Nash worked the oars and I steered for the light on the beach. My back was to the flying boat, his view of it blocked by me as he moved us in unruffled transmission over the water. Out of a half dream came a yell and a splash which brought me back into consciousness. The responding shout from Appleyard caused me to wonder what had gone wrong, but I blocked speculation so as to make the run-in to shore. ‘Something’s happened. Do we turn?’
‘Keep on. We’ve got work to do.’ His pace didn’t alter, but he was out of breath. ‘We’ll know soon enough.’ Distance muffled the noise of shouting as I leapt onto the beach with the rope in my hand.
The pile of boxes diminished. I set the last of our load in the boat, my feet swollen from wading. ‘We’ll take some getting dry.’
‘Sea water’s good, unless you swallow the stuff.’ He went ashore for his customary piss, and when the boxes lay like dominoes on the bottom of the dinghy I placed myself at the oars.
‘Push off.’ And felt the gentle lift as we were waterborne. ‘You’ll make a sailor yet.’
‘Does Davy Jones want me that badly?’
‘You’re lucky if somebody does. My wife left me when I went to jail, and none of my family would talk to me anymore. They loved me during the war. I’m best out of it.’ I rowed more quickly. ‘That’s the way of the world,’ he said. ‘But take it easy. You’ll get there, soon enough.’
‘They may need help.’
‘You’ll be no good if you knacker yourself.’
It was easier to hurry when exhausted. But our passage took longer than usual. We neared the float. ‘What’s wrong?’
Wilcox had gone overboard.
‘He slipped, and let go of the rope,’ Armatage shouted. ‘But the box was all right.’
‘You’d better give him a cup of the hot stuff,’ Nash called. ‘This water’s too cold for a midnight dip.’
‘And where’s Appleyard?’
‘In the drink, looking for Wilcox.’
My clothes felt like tissue paper in the wind. Rose’s dinghy came round by the nose. ‘We tried to get him out.’ There was an explosion of water from which a hand and head surfaced between the side and Rose’s boat. Nash leapt on board and stretched his arms out of the hatch, while I nudged the dinghy so as to push Appleyard close. While the rest looked on, silence during the actual lift was more awesome than any activity. The body seemed waterlogged, a dead weight. But he was alive, a hand moving across his marbled face as Nash rolled him like a carpet till there was no danger of him tipping back into the drink.
Bennett came out of his room. ‘Why have we stopped work?’
‘One man missing, believed drowned.’ Nash didn’t look up. ‘Wilcox, the flight engineer. Another man half dead searching for him. Appleyard, the gunner.’
Bennett looked as if such an event wasn’t worth his attention, the lines of his gaunt face set hard by the fact that, whatever it cost, nothing was going to stop him being rich. But in the dim light of the door his mouth was twisted by uncertainty – which a further touch of callousness put right. ‘I rely on you to keep everybody working.’
Neither the sea nor the basaltic lava of the mountainside would give up their dead. I stood in the dinghy, balancing to stay upright. Above were the birds, and below voracious fish. In between were castaways. ‘The wireless operator and Mr Rose will get the next lot in, sir.’ There was a wheedling in Nash’s tone, but from diplomacy rather than nature. ‘I’ll look after Appleyard. Armatage can unload the boat when it comes back.’
I waited for an order from one or the other.
‘Both boats are needed to finish the job.’
Nash’s tone, from being respectful, turned comradely. ‘Can’t do it, Skipper. We can’t afford to lose Appleyard. But I promise to get everything in before daylight.’
Rose and I would have to ferry another five loads, instead of three. It was easier said than done. ‘I’ll take care of him,’ Bennett said, ‘and stow the boxes when they come aboard.’
The raw wind blasted us. Even the cry of the birds would have been company. Nash looked up from his patient. ‘Oh yes, I know you will.’
His sarcasm made a clear picture of Bennett pushing the half-conscious man back into the water. I couldn’t believe it, but knew that Nash thought it more than likely.
In the lighted hatchway I saw Bennett’s revolver touching Nash’s temple. ‘Get back to your boat, or this will be the one trip you won’t come back from.’
The face that turned to him was green with a sickness that had nothing to do with fear of death. Confidence had been broken. The fight between sense and power was back, but Nash could not give in easily to either, though when he spoke his lips had become thinner. He tried to camouflage the revelation with a smile. ‘The sound of the shot will travel for miles, Skipper, and may be heard by those who are looking for us. If I go for a Burton, so may Appleyard. That’ll make four off the ration strength. You’ll be short-handed when trouble starts. I can’t believe you want that.’
I lacked the comforting hump of the Smith and Wesson under my jacket. If Nash was killed, the rest of the gold would stay ashore, buried by seaweed and birdshit till God Almighty claimed it for his own. I pulled the dinghy close, ready to leap aboard.
The gun was aimed at my face, and the chances were small that in the next few seconds I would continue to feel miserable and exhausted. I did not care whether I lived or died when Nash missed his chance to knock Bennett down.
‘I’ll tell you what’ – his voice was as friendly and familiar as during a discussion at the Driftwood Hotel – ‘I’ll get Appleyard on his feet, and when the boat comes back make up two crews again. We’ll finish stowing those boxes before you can turn round.’
Bennett nodded curtly, and walked to his room. Rose and I each took an oar so as to get away quickly. Beyond the float he moved to the tiller. ‘What did you make of that?’
I was pulling too hard to talk.
‘We’ll have to lock him up,’ he said.
‘Nash knows how to deal with him. If we go for Bennett, he’ll be on his side, believe you me.’
We landed, and began loading. ‘I’ll have cramp in my fingers forever,’ he said. ‘I might not be able to work my slide rule or sextant with sufficient dexterity to find our way.’
The oars seemed bigger with every trip. ‘I don’t suppose I’ll be able to tap my morse key, either.’
‘Wilcox just slipped into the drink. Came up twice, and none of us could get him, though it looked easy enough. When he went down for the third time Appleyard dived in. The whole thing happened in slow motion. He was our copilot.’
I asked Rose if he could fly the plane.
‘Me? No more than you can. And I know you can’t.’
‘You’d better not think of doing anything to Bennett, then.’
‘That’s all very well, as far as it goes. But it might be our turn next.’
‘How is he going to get the kite back on his own?’
‘He’ll have Nash. Nash got his wings. He went right through to OTU, then was grounded for something or other. He remustered as a gunner.’
‘He never said anything to me about it.’
‘Why should he?’
Armatage was at the flying boat. ‘He’s as right as rain. Wants to get back on the job already, but Nash won’t let him.’
I lifted the first box. ‘And the skipper?’
He winked. ‘All jolly and bright.’