‘See, that wasn’t so bad now, was it?’ Marvin helped me onto the jetty or whatever it was called which was absolutely no help at all as the damn thing was moving about just as much as the blasted boat had been. As soon as one wave of nausea subsided, another, even stronger one started to build up. It felt like my feet and knees had been stolen and replaced with big blobs of jelly and if I didn’t stop wobbling about on them soon, we were going to be seeing my toast and marmalade and coffee again very soon. Oh God, I needed to stop making food analogies. They really weren’t helping. ‘Just sit on that bollard for a moment and you’ll be as right as rain,’ my torturer advised. If I’d been in any fit state, I’d have liked to rip the bollard out and bash him over the head with it and see how long it took him to feel ‘right as rain’. That seemed like a fitting level of justice for the eighteen minutes of hell this man had just put me through.
Ten minutes, he’d told me. Ten minutes at fifteen knots – the liar. Smooth as silk the Solent was, he’d told me. We’d glide along like a knife through butter he’d told me, too – liar, liar, pants on fire. It had been more like surfing on an Eccles Cake at speed through lumpy rice pudding. How I hadn’t ended up tossed into the sea, I didn’t know. If he thought he was getting me back on that contraption for the return part of the trip he was very much mistaken. No, there was only one thing I could do. I’d just have to stay on the island and live here for ever. There was sure to be a pub, café, or restaurant who could use a cheap and cheerful pair of hands in the run up to Christmas. I could make myself indispensable during opening hours and then stay behind to help clear up and … well … it wouldn’t be the stupidest thing I’d ever done. I seemed to be saying that to myself a lot lately.
‘Now, I’ve just got to go and see someone,’ Marvin told me in a voice most people saved for small children or those who were a bit slow. ‘I won’t be long. You stay here a few minutes and get your land legs back and then we’ll go and have some lunch, eh? What do you fancy? I know a place that does the best crab sandwiches on the island. It’s not far.’ And with that he marched off and left me, wondering if this was his way of punishing me for borrowing his brother’s house. Crab sandwiches indeed. The thought brought on another wave of nausea – as if I was about to put anything sea related anywhere near my mouth. If it was, then I thought it cruel and unusual and quite honestly, at that moment I’d rather have ended up explaining my behaviour to the boys in blue. At least there’d be no threat of crustaceans down at the station. And a prison cell wouldn’t keep moving around.
‘Blimey, mate, she looks a bit green around the gills,’ said a voice that wasn’t Marvin’s but sounded vaguely familiar from somewhere. I realised Marvin had come back with a friend, and tried to smile politely. After all, he was probably of the opinion – even though he couldn’t have been more wrong – that he’d brought me on a nice day out. ‘Oh, it’s you!’ the voice said again. ‘One of the Doberman girls, from the park!’
I groaned inside as I simultaneously recognised both the smell and the ruddy face of the man who’d been sitting by the lake when I took Wendell for a walk in Natalia’s place. The man with the stinky cigarettes who thought I didn’t know how to handle a dog. This was all I needed. If he started patronising me again I’d have to shove him into the water, even if the movement did finally bring my breakfast back up.
‘Do you two know each other?’ Marvin looked from one to the other of us, making me feel dizzy again. I let his friend tell him about our one brief meeting, even though his version didn’t tally with the one in my head. I was too busy swallowing air and saving my energy in case that shove became necessary.
The restaurant with the amazing crab sandwiches was decked out in blue, green, and silver – whoever had done it had probably had some kind of Christmas at sea idea in mind. It just looked cold to me. And it wasn’t tinsel, although something not far off it and a bit more expensive-looking. Their tree looked very jolly though, although I’d never seen a mermaid on top of a Christmas tree before. To take my mind off the unfortunately seafood-orientated menu that had been placed in front of me, I wondered if there was an angels’ union and if there was, what they would make of a mermaid taking one of their jobs.
All I really wanted was a cup of tea and some dry crackers or a piece of plain bread. I did manage a few of the chips from Marvin’s plate, with just a bit of salt on them – no vinegar – so he ordered me a soft bread roll – no butter – and I had an impromptu chip butty, which did actually help me feel a bit better.
‘So, now you’ve got some colour back in your cheeks, Beth, what shall we do next?’ Marvin asked me. I wondered if it would seem rude if I asked if we could find somewhere to book me a ferry ticket so I didn’t have to go back on that torture device with him. ‘How about Yarmouth Castle? That’s not far.’
‘Closed at the beginning of the month for winter,’ Mr Ruddy Face, who’s name I’d forgotten Natalia had said was Stinky Steve until then, reminded him.
‘Actually, I’d be happy to just go for a walk and have a look around here,’ I told them, mentally drilling myself not to call him Stinky Steve. Or Gnome Man, as Daisy had christened him yesterday morning. Don’t call him Stinky Steve – don’t call him Gnome Man – don’t call him Stinky Steve – don’t call him Gnome Man, I chanted inside my head. I was on the boundary of being in enough trouble without insulting Marvin’s friend. Even if both nicknames were true.