Devil's Rock - Chris Speyer [28]
Perhaps his assumption about the clothing was wrong, perhaps it wasn’t all hers. Then why one set of oilskins? Maybe the other person had worn his or her set ashore.
Zaki put away the logbooks and turned his attention to the drawers. Hurriedly opening and closing them, he quickly surveyed their contents without disturbing anything. Personal belongings, toiletries – he felt he was prying where he shouldn’t, like a burglar in somebody’s bedroom. In the third drawer, a locket on a golden chain lay open, but the two little pictures it contained were so faded that Zaki could only make out the vague outlines of the faces. He opened the fourth drawer and froze, staring at what he had revealed. Two bracelets, identical in size and design, except that one was tarnished and the other polished. He lifted the tarnished bracelet from where the girl had nestled it among her scarves and woollen gloves. There was the design of engraved symbols or runes that he had seen when he held it in the cave. He ran a finger over its convex outer surface and around the flat inner surface, and then slipped it over his hand and on to his wrist. So she hadn’t returned it to the cave, she had kept it, and what’s more it was one of a pair. The other, judging by the way it was polished, she wore herself from time to time. Lying in the drawer, it glowed like pale gold even in the dim light in the cabin. What were they made out of? Not gold, since they tarnished, but they were too pale for copper or brass. The bracelet on his wrist felt warm against his skin, as though it had been lying in the sun before he put it on. It was a comforting warmth that seemed to flow up through his arm to his injured shoulder. He pushed it further up his arm, under his sweatshirt sleeve, past the sling.
The warmth now flooded through the rest of his body, and as it spread it brought a delicious drowsiness, forcing him to sink down among the sailbags. He heard music and singing, chatter and laughter – faces crowded around him and he retreated deep into himself, where he hid for a long time, until he heard one voice, more persistent that the rest, saying, ‘Zaki! Zaki!’
Anusha was there! She was in the cabin! She was shutting the drawers, closing the cupboard.
‘Zaki, get up! She’s coming back! Get up! Get up!’
Zaki struggled back to consciousness. It was like climbing up from the bottom of a deep well.
‘I lost her. She just disappeared, so I ran back here. Then I saw her coming down the road. If we go out now, she’ll see us. What are we going to do?’
Zaki scrambled to his feet. He felt dizzy but there was no time to lose. Quickly, he went to the main hatch, retrieved the washboards and, from the inside, slotted them into place, then slid the hatch cover shut.
‘You’ve trapped us! She’s sure to come in here!’
‘Quick, into the forward cabin and shut the door. Perhaps we can get out of the forehatch while she stows things in the saloon.’
It was a desperate plan but Zaki could think of no alternative except trying to explain to the girl why he had been searching her boat, and he didn’t fancy doing that.
No sooner had they shut themselves in the forward cabin than they heard the girl jump lightly down on to the deck. They waited, huddled among the sailbags, listening, trying to guess what she was doing. They heard the main hatch slide open and then her footsteps on the stairs. There was the thump of the now full rucksack being dropped on the cabin floor and then she went back up on deck. There was no time to get the forehatch open and make their escape. Zaki and Anusha exchanged anxious glances and Anusha pulled a face. They could hear the girl’s bare feet padding about above them and the creak of rigging.
‘What’s she doing?’ whispered Anusha.
‘She’s putting the main up.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘It means she’s getting ready to leave.