Devil's Rock - Chris Speyer [18]
‘It seems Stapleton and Maunder fought for a bit, but then they joins forces and it’s hard to say which of ’em was more evil. Seafarers have a natural loyalty to other seafarers, but Maunder’s lot took to killin’ any poor soul, seaman or passenger, who survived a wreck and the bodies was buried in Stapleton’s fields. That’s why nobody will farm the land by the Orme. They’re afraid of turning up bodies when they’re ploughin’.’
‘What about the cave?’
‘Well, villains’ll always fall out, won’t they? And Maunder and Stapleton were no exception. They say Maunder dug a secret hidey-hole somewhere thereabouts so he’d get most of the plunder hidden before Stapleton could arrive at the wreck.’
‘Does anyone know where it is?’
‘Not as far I know. Maunder disappeared – killed by Stapleton most likely. Then Stapleton handed the rest o’ the gang over to the authorities. The men were hanged and the women an’ children were transported.
‘What happened to Stapleton?’
‘Lost the family estate gambling. Maybe he found Maunder’s hidey-hole, maybe ’e didn’t.’
‘So you never saw this cave when you were on the fishing boats?’
‘No, none of us ever saw it. Maunder and the others, they all lived a long time ago remember, and it’s probably all just an old yarn.’
‘Do you think it’s just a story?’
‘Maybe yes, maybe no.’
‘Did you ever look for the cave?’
‘No I did not. And neither should you.’
‘Why not?’
‘What’s buried is best left buried, boy, that’s why not.’
‘But what if someone . . . Ow!’ Zaki was going to say ‘found it by mistake’, but just at that moment the cat on his lap dug her claws into his leg.
His grandfather was looking at him hard and he realised that, if he continued, the old man would guess, perhaps had already guessed, that he’d found the cave.
‘Would there be treasure, do you think?’ asked Zaki, trying to make it sound like idle curiosity.
‘Shouldn’t think so. The cargoes those days was mostly food, wool, some wine and spirits p’rhaps – nothing of much value by today’s standards. Maunder would have sold it as quick as he could.’
Zaki was certain there was more to the story than his grandfather was telling, but he couldn’t press it any further without admitting that he’d found the cave and, in doing so, breaking his promise to the mysterious girl who’d pulled him to safety. It was a problem. Zaki decided to change the subject. He’d get his grandfather talking about the wreckers another time.
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‘Has anyone bought Queen of the Dart yet?’ The Queen of the Dart was a motor yacht that Grandad had restored and for which he was hoping to find a buyer, but no one had shown any interest. It was becoming a family joke.
‘Not yet. Why? You thinkin’ of buying her?’
‘Me?!’ exclaimed Zaki in mock horror. ‘You know I only like boats with sails.’
‘Sensible lad. Wish I’d never taken that boat on. Looks like I’m stuck with her.’
Grandad eased himself out of his chair and took the mugs to rinse in the paint-spattered sink.
‘Well, best be getting on. Can’t spend the whole afternoon chatting. You goin’ to be any use to me with that shoulder?’
‘What do you need to do?’
‘I was hopin’ to get some planks on the bottom of that rowing boat.’
Zaki spent the rest of the afternoon helping his grandfather as best he could. They said little to each other, concentrating on what needed to be done, but Grandad would pause occasionally to straighten his back and praise the virtues of wooden craft. ‘Did you know the Vikings built their longboats this way?’ he asked when the first plank was in place, and then, half an hour later, ‘Light and strong, light and strong, that’s the advantage of a boat like this.’
Watching the easy skill with which the old man handled the tools and materials, Zaki wondered how long it took to learn to be a boatbuilder. Could he join his grandad when he was old enough to leave school and one day take over the boat shed? After all, he shared his grandad’s name, Isaac Luxton, even if everyone did call him Zaki. Maybe one day he would be Isaac Luxton, boatbuilder.
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At a quarter to six, Grandad