Doctor Who_ Rip Tide - Louise Cooper [4]
'You're a fine one to talk about breaking rules,' she retorted. 'Anyway, he's harmless. And he told me how to get to the next bay.' Her expression changed. 'We'd have to go over the rocks, though. And the water will come back after a while.'
'Ah.' The young man glanced speculatively towards the sea, hunching his shoulders a little as the onshore wind flung unfamiliar smells of brine and gorse into his face. Unlike the gentler south, this north Cornish coast was a place of thundering surf, with no land between here and Canada to temper the raw power of the Atlantic. Even on a day like this, with the sky an unbroken blue and the sun feeling hot, the sea looked —and was — dangerous. 'Then we'd better not risk it.' He rubbed his upper arms. 'I don't really like it here. Let's go back to our place. We can explore
later, properly, when all these people have gone.'
The girl seemed about to argue, but changed her mind. She too looked at the sea again and she too seemed to suppress a shiver. They walked back towards the road. At the lifeboat house, Steve had been joined by two more members of the crew; he had his head in the boat's radio compartment and was swearing cheerfully while one of the others said, 'How the hell should I know where you put the screwdriver? You had it in your hand three seconds ago!'
None of them saw the pair go past and away from the beach. But beyond the café, from a vantage point among the rocks where she was sitting alone, Nina gazed after them with resentful grey eyes.
There was no moon that night, which was ideal, for what people couldn't see wouldn't hurt them. He had called her several times with a running commentary on the fun he was having; describing the stark night beauty of the coast, the sheer energy of the waves, dimly visible in starlight, as they pounded against the cliffs. He had taken one or two risks, but nothing serious; they had giggled over it like children on an escapade, and she was starting to wish that she had gone with him after all. Still, she was tired (all the holidaymakers got tired, from what she had overheard; they seemed to think it was something to do with the air), and could do with some rest. She hoped he wouldn't stay out for much longer.
When he called again, she said so, and he gave in. 'All right, I'll come back. I suppose I should, in case anyone sees me. I'll be there in about ...' His voice tailed off. There was a pause. Then he uttered an explosive oath.
'What? What is it?' But she could not hear his reply; the signal had suddenly begun to break up, as if something were blocking it. She shouted his name, fear rising, and his voice came back in staccato bursts.
' ... malfunctioning ... I can't get it to ...'
'What?' she yelled at him. 'What's happening? What's wrong?'
'It won't ... Can't pull back; it's gone too far! I'm heading —'
Static swelled and rose to a shriek, then the shriek merged into a colossal roar that seemed to slam through her eardrums. In the instant before she jerked away from the handset in shock, she heard him
scream. After that, there was only silence.
SUNDAY
The village pundits had predicted that the weather wouldn't last, and the local
radio forecasters had been inclined to agree. So Sunday morning found Steve and the crew preparing the lifeboat for practice in a rising wind with ominous clouds building to the southwest.
As it was a holiday week, more visitors had arrived in the village, but this morning most of them had taken one look at the sky and headed for the indoor attractions of the larger towns. The sea, ever moody and unpredictable, had turned overnight from blue to a cold, restless grey; a few die-hards were on the beach, hunched in coats against the wind gusting spitefully across the bay, but there was no one in the sea, and the lifeguards, dressed in tracksuits, were drinking coffee in the shelter of their hut beside the boathouse. Even the gulls weren't much in evidence. As one of Steve's colleagues said, it looked like they were in for a bit of a blow.