High and Dry: Love the Captain : Book 3

By Amanda Sandton

Fate deals Meredith a blow.

Fate turns fickle and deserts our lovers. At the end of "Perilous Seas", the Captain and Meredith have overcome Merry’s shame at running away from the Captain, and they are getting on well together. The Captain is now taking his time with Merry, coaching her in the art of love-making in the hope of freeing her from her psychological imprisonment. All is going well until the jealousy of a female passenger lets the cat out of the bag. Will our lovers be able to surmount the fall-out?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Karibu Publishers SAS
• Release date: Jan 25, 2022
• ISBN: 9782901556503

Book preview

1

Aftermath

Icatch hold of Kate’s hand and we pull ourselves to our feet. We’re coughing and spluttering, breathing in dust and trying to catch our breath. The dust is everywhere, blotting out our view of the street. A fearsome shrieking and wailing starts up.

Oh, my God, says Kate, putting her hands to her ears. Tony—

So the nightmare begins. A terrorist bomb in a third world country. We have to find Tony. We scramble across the veranda, stumbling over chunks of concrete, fragments of metal and the shredded remains of rubber tires. The hotel itself is untouched. The mess has been blown in by the explosion out in the street.

I pull Kate’s hands down from her ears. Get a grip, Kate. Tony needs us.

Pray God, he wasn’t caught up in that.

We make it out into the street. There’s a fifty-yard gap in the line of curio stalls. Palm trees lie across the road. Wooden boards and palm roofing are scattered about. Scraps of brightly colored material waft here and there, and settle on the bodies and severed limbs strewn on the tarmac.

Kate and I split up to search for Tony, our calls competing with the keening ululations of the African women, shocked bystanders, who huddle together with their cotton shawls over their heads, rocking from side to side.

Ten minutes go by and still no Tony. The police have arrived. They organize the removal of the trees so the ambulances can reach the wounded. But it’s chaotic. Of course, this is a country where corruption eats up the money needed for infrastructure and services.

Surely Tony would have made his way to us by now if he were unhurt? We have to find him. A policeman comes up to me and asks me to leave. I tell him I’m an American citizen and I’m looking for my friend. He shrugs and moves off. He has more pressing matters to attend to. I reach the end of the devastation and look back to find Kate. She’s running towards me along the grass verge at the edge of the scene.

I’ve found him, Merry. Come quickly. He’s alive, but he’s badly hurt.

I hurry after her. Tony is unconscious, spread-eagled across a pile of rough sacking. It’s cushioned his fall, saving him from a serious head injury, but his right leg is a bloody, pulpy mess. Kate has applied an emergency tourniquet, but we can’t leave it tightened for long. We have to get him help.

I’ll see if I can get hold of one of the doctors, I say to Kate.

She grabs my arm to stop me. No, I don’t rate the medical treatment here… and, anyway, look how busy they are.

What then?

We have to get him back to the ship. It’s fully equipped. Dave can give him first aid in hygienic conditions.

How? We don’t have our purses. No phones, no money.

Go find a taxi and promise the driver a big tip if he gets us back to the ship in fifteen minutes. Go, Meredith, go!

I run down the road to the taxi rank, but it’s deserted, all the drivers helping or rubber-necking. I jump into the first cab. The keys are in the ignition. I switch on and the car jerks forward almost hitting a scruffy dog foraging in the gutter. Hell, it was in gear. Fortunately, I’m used to a gear shift. I put my foot on the clutch and disengage the gear. Praying that the horn works, I lean on it, stop and lean again. Wait. No one comes. So I improvise. Time to use my initiative. Putting the car in gear I drive the taxi up the road as close as I can get to where Tony is lying. I take the key out of the ignition to forestall others from following my example. Going up to a couple of strong looking locals, I pull on their shirts to attract their attention. I lift my gold chain up from my T-shirt and offer it to them if they will help us by carrying Tony to the taxi.

They give me broad smiles and follow me across to Kate and Tony. They make light work of carrying him to the car and put him down with unexpected gentleness on the back seat.

Don’t tell me you’ve stolen a taxi, Kate whispers to me.

Not stolen, borrowed. They’ll get it back. Can’t have you being the only action woman around here.

Kate gives me a faint smile. I turn back to our helpers and hold out my chain, but they shake their heads and refuse it, saying they helped me in the spirit of Harambee. We shake hands all round, and Kate sits in the back to hold Tony steady. We make off as fast as possible in the midst of all the confusion.

Everything goes well until we reach the dock gates, which are closed against us. An officious security guard bustles out of a sentry hut and holds up his hand. He asks for our papers. We explain that we have none, and why. He refuses to listen. Kate begins to lose her temper. The raised voices bring across a customs officer who joins in the argument. Now there are two of them shouting their refusal at us. We cannot prove our identity. We have no money for the customary bribes, not to mention no papers for the car. Even the sight of Tony lying covered in blood on the back seat fails to move them.

I am about to try my luck running them down when the radio in their shack broadcasts the news of the bomb attack. The sentry hurries over to listen, leaving the customs officer on guard. The sentry cocks his head our way and stares at us. He flinches as he absorbs what is being said and tightens his hold on his gun. He gives us another look, but nods at the officer.

Now, they believe us and let us through. I zoom along the quay as if I am taking part in a Nascar event and bring the taxi up short at the bottom of the gangplank. Leaving Kate to care for Tony who is groaning as he comes round, I race up the gangplank and skid across the atrium to the purser’s desk.

The purser takes one look at my disheveled and bloody appearance. He comes round the side of his desk asking, You’re hurt? You were caught up in the bomb? He takes me by the arm and tries to lead me to a chair, but I brush him off.

No, not me. It’s our friend. He’s injured. He’s in a taxi at the bottom of the gangplank. Quick. He needs help.

Can we carry him, or do we need a stretcher?

A stretcher. His leg’s badly damaged. But hurry, please.

The purser phones through. Two medical orderlies appear with a stretcher and hurry down the gangplank to the taxi. I follow on behind to lend Kate my support.

Within minutes they have Tony on the way to the operating room. Dave is waiting outside, scrubbed up and ready for action. He casts his eye over Tony as he’s carried through the door. He nods his satisfaction. Good work with the tourniquet, girls. Now go and sit down while I see what I can do.

With that Tony passes through into the operating room and the double doors swing closed behind him with a soft thunk.

I hadn’t realized how deeply Kate felt about Tony, fun-loving girl that she is. I thought Tony was merely a shipboard romance, but Kate is sickly pale beneath her tan. She’s trembling. I coax her to a seat and put my arms around her.

We sit there for what seems like hours, waiting anxiously to hear if Tony is going to survive and, if so, will they be able to save his leg?

Kate is still pale. I fetch her some water from the cooler.

She bats my hand away. Leave off. Leave me alone.

As I turn to do as she asks, the outside door opens, and the Captain comes in. In two strides he has me in his arms. Dirty and blood-stained as I am, he holds me tight against his starched white tropical uniform.

My God, sweetheart. I’ve only just heard the news. Thank heaven you and Kate are all right. But what about Tony?

Kate lifts up her woebegone face at the sound of the Captain’s voice. Captain, we’re waiting… and waiting, she says, her voice quavering and falling away at the end.

The Captain closes the gap to her seat, towing me with him. He pulls Kate up and into a three-way hug.

I’m sure they’re doing everything they can for him, he assures her.

We stay like that, locked together in our shared horror of what’s happened, and taking comfort from the closeness of friends.

Even so, we can’t stay like that for ever, and the Captain lowers us each into a seat. He rings for service and orders a tray of tea and a bottle of cognac.

Best thing for shock, he says. Hot sweet tea shot through with cognac. It’ll help you get through this vigil.

We’re sipping our reinforced tea when Dave comes out. Kate grabs my hand and squeezes it so hard I think she may crush my fingers. Dave lowers his surgical mask and gives us a sweeping smile. Kate relaxes the pressure of her grasp on my arm. It’s going to be good news, surely? We stare at Dave, our eyes wide, our posture tense, as we wait for his announcement.

"We’ve stabilized him, but he’s not out of the woods yet. It’s going to be touch