Chapter 7

My watch woke me, as usual. Warm under the covers in the dark cabin, I was wrapped up in warm, naked woman. I didn't really want to leave, but as gently as possible I disentangled myself. It was a little like I imagine wrestling an octopus to be, made worse by small whimpering sounds. In the end I resorted to using a pillow to replace my body in her arms. Clearly not satisfactory, but better than nothing as I hastily pulled on cold clothes. I was unable to resist kissing the top of her head – all I could get at easily – before leaving, and her scent filled my nostrils once more before I tore myself away.

Simone had made coffee – bless the woman! - and she gripped my elbow before going to her bed. "It will be well," she assured me.

I didn't need the anemometer reading to tell me the weather was moderating. Indeed, the measurable difference was tiny, but there was a feeling ... something ... a sixth sense a sailor develops ... and I was content as I booted up the computer and sipped my coffee. Yeah, content ... with the boat, about the weather. What about the woman I ... loved?

I wrote a dispatch for the magazine and emailed it. Surfed in a desultory way finding out more than I really wanted to know about various celebrities' love lives – if that's really the correct term? Decided I was hungry, made coffee and ate bread and cheese. Called up the Kindle app on the computer and tried to concentrate on Marion Zimmer Bradley's "Darkover".

What little attention I had focussed on the story disappeared when I heard a noise from the passageway. I looked and Kelly stood there, head down.

"Hello, Love. Why aren't you asleep?" She didn't answer. In fact, I couldn't detect any response at all. I'm not the most patient person in the world when I allow myself to feel... "Kelly, come here, please." When she didn't respond to that, I resisted the urge to shout, but put as much emphasis as I could into my voice; "Kelly ... get yourself here, now."

Slowly ... very slowly ... she moved toward me and I slid from behind the table so it was not in the way, and she stopped, standing in front of me, between my knees, head still down and her soft, thick, dark hair covering her face. Farsight pitched harder just then and she almost lost her balance, but I steadied her with a hand each side of her waist. She reached out to put a hand on each of my shoulders and I reached up to brush her hair away from her face, which was blotchy and tear-stained.

"I'm not good enough for you," she said.

"I think you are more than good enough for me. I think I don't deserve someone as lovely as you. I don't care if you can't have babies. I just ... want ... you ... in my life."

"You don't know me ... what I've done..."

"Seven months in a small sailing cruiser? Learning to sail, manage the boat, from scratch? Standing watches on your own? Cooking in a tiny galley at sea in a constantly moving boat ... I'd say I knew all I needed to know."

"I ... went with men ... before Rosa took me in ... for money. There. I didn't tell you that before."

"I don't care."

"I thought I would get to UK and leave you. I was just going to use you."

"But? You could have said you'd marry me and still left."

"No, I couldn't, because ... sometime along the way I saw what a good person you are ... and I fell in love with you. I couldn't ... I couldn't do that to you."

"Sit on my lap, Kelly." When she didn't move, I added some emphasis again. "Sit on my lap, Kelly."

Reluctantly she settled stiffly on my lap and I wrapped my arms round her. I whispered in her ear, aware again of her scent – womanly, intoxicating to me. "I love you. I want you. I need you. We don't have to settle this now. Let's get home, okay?"

She relaxed then and I held her, stroking her back and breathing her scent; we sat like that for quite a while before I asked, "Want to help get us under way?" She nodded silently. "Better get something to eat, then."

While Kelly made toast and tea, I donned weather-proofs and went on deck. I took the lashings off the foresail and the cover and ties off the mainsail. The wind was down to a good force six – about twenty-six knots – and now had some north in it, but we were sheltered by the Isle of Thanet and the waves were only a metre or so. I got the kedge in, secured it to its place on the coach-roof, coiled and put away the warp, then lowered the riding light and ball. I had the mainsail up before Kelly appeared on deck; she got the foresail hoisted – I stopped her from raising the jib, and I started on the anchor. We had a lot of chain out and it took quite a while to get it to the point the anchor was about to break ground. I sent Kelly back to take the wheel. As the anchor broke ground and Farsight began to drift backwards, I smiled to myself as Kelly turned the wheel to port at first, bringing the bows to starboard, then turned it back as she gathered way. I secured the anchor and made my way to the cockpit.

"That was well done, Love."

She glanced at me and smiled at the compliment. "I love this, you know."

"That's good. I hope you'll continue to do it." I set a course east of north to sail outside the Kentish Knock, but west of the traffic separation areas, and stood by Kelly as she steered.

Simone appeared shortly after we got under way, bearing coffee. As I accepted mine, she said quietly, "I hope you don't mind me leaving you to get under way. It seemed you and Kelly ... well, it seemed a good idea to let you two work together."

I resisted a strong temptation to kiss her cheek, thinking it possible Kelly might misconstrue it or use it as an excuse, and smiled. "You did right, Simone, thank you."

We were four hours to the Kentish Knock east cardinal buoy – very good time in view of the sea state which was still rough. We turned a few degrees west of north there, which meant we were close-reaching, which slowed us, so it was a further two hours to the Long Sand Head north cardinal. A direct course from there to Harwich Haven would have meant a direct beat to windward. It was very tempting to start the engine and head straight in, but I consulted the ladies. Kelly was forthright. "Let's sail as long as we can." Simone caught my eye and smiled.

"Looks like a consensus, then. We hold course to the north and turn at the Mid Bawdsey."

It was two and a half hours to the turn (where I reported in and requested customs and immigration) and another two hours to the turn by Landguard. From there, just half an hour to dropping the hook on the Shelf. We were home at last. In the gloom of the winter evening, emphasised by the floodlights of Felixstowe container terminal, a harbour launch brought harbour officers out to inspect us.

"Where are you from, Captain?"

"Last port of call, Halifax. We rode out the gale in the Downs."

He looked at me. "Oh ... you're the chap who set off from here to sail round the world. I've been following your journey in 'Cruising Sailor'. You were alone and picked up a crew in Manila?" He didn't wait for me to answer, but looked at Simone, "Seems you've picked up another since."

Simone held out her passport. "Simone Lefebre. The skipper was kind enough to take me aboard to sail back from Canada so I avoided the flight. I'll do almost anything to avoid flying." He inspected the document quickly and handed it back. "But your other crew?"

Kelly tucked herself under my left arm as I extended her documents in my right hand. "Lupeta Santos," I said, "longer term general visitor ... until I can persuade her to marry me."

He took them and glanced through. "Very good, Captain. You can confirm no sickness on board since your last port of call?"

"Only sea-sickness," I smiled.

He didn't smile in return, just handed the documents back. "Very good, Captain. You're free to proceed. Welcome to the United Kingdom, Miss Santos."

"Thank you, sir," she responded, quietly.

After they'd gone, the three of us looked at each other, the unspoken question, 'What now?' The two ladies looked at me, clearly expecting my lead. I shrugged.

"I hadn't really made plans beyond completing the voyage," I said. "We're probably too late to get a marina berth and most of the businesses will be closed. We could probably find a pub or restaurant for a meal..."

"If I may?" Simone asked before turning to Kelly with whom she had a low-voiced conversation I couldn't follow, but which had Kelly nodding. "Well, Skipper," Simone continued, "this will be our last night together as a crew ... for this voyage, anyway ... and we'd like to spend it here. Kelly has something in mind to eat, and I have a contribution to make too. Why don't you see if you can sort out where we'll be berthing tomorrow? I'd like it to be Ipswich wet dock, but I know it's a bit expensive..."

I thought about it, then nodded. "Sounds good to me. Funny, isn't it, how reluctant one is for the journey to be over?"

I couldn't help watching Kelly as she busied herself in the galley, even as I logged on to the internet. I had email – someone from 'Cruising Sailor' would meet me at Ipswich wet dock at midday. High water was to be just after one, so that presented no problem; I and my crew were invited to a meal at one of the up-market dock-side restaurants. I sighed. At least they'd be picking up the bill. I hoped.