Free Make Room for the Jester by Stead Jones

about a light going back.
    ‘Gladstone had better hurry up,’ Maxie grumbled. ‘It’ll be the police station for us…’
    ‘Lew,’ Gladstone called above me, ‘take the torch.Shine it this way. We’re coming down.’
    He jumped into our boat and began shouting instructions to Ashton who stood above us, holding on to the rigging.
    ‘Sit down, Mr Vaughan. Legs over.’
    Ashton crouched down and pushed one leg over the side of the yacht, and there he stuck. ‘Boys bach,’ he howled, ‘can’t find the other bloody leg! It’s dropped off!’
    ‘You’re sitting on it,’ Gladstone cried. ‘Try to get up, Mr Vaughan.’
    Ashton just sat there tapping the deck, searching for his missing leg and rocking with laughter. ‘By God, what a dirty night to lose your leg and all…’
    ‘Hold tight,’ Gladstone said, ‘I’ll come up and help you.’
    He heaved himself aboard the yacht again, and after what looked like a wrestling match managed to get Ashton to put his legs over the side. But that was as far as Ashton would go. ‘Don’t wanna ger in the bloody boat,’ he was saying. ‘I’m all ri’ here. Leave me alone. This is my yacht…’ His head was lolling about on his shoulders. He was making strange noises which sounded like singing. ‘Just leave me alone, lads bach. Leave me be…’
    Gladstone tried to lift him, but he was a big man, and dead weight. ‘Bring the boat closer,’ he ordered. ‘Closer still. Hold it there now. I’ll shove him in. Ready, Mr Vaughan? I’ll push him in – you break his fall down there…’
    ‘What with?’ Dewi said. ‘He’ll have the bloody lot over…’
    Ashton Vaughan’s head was sagging on his chest. If he didn’t stop rolling about like that he’d be falling into theboat of his own accord. Gladstone crouched behind him, arms under his armpits. He heaved, and we all let go of the Cambrian Cloud as Ashton was promptly sick. I dropped the torch into the bottom of the boat and it went out straight away. We were rocking and stamping and cursing there in the streaming dark. Especially Dewi: he was using every word he knew.
    ‘Who’s that swearing out there?’ the voice behind us barked out – a foghorn of a voice, and we turned to face it at the same time as they switched on the searchlight. We heard the soft, powerful throb of the lifeboat’s motor now. The light pinned us there, blinded us, came out of the night straight for us and we were locked there between the lifeboat and the Cambrian Cloud.
    ‘Get them aboard,’ a voice ordered. ‘Mind that boat of mine, now. Young b—. Get them aboard. Oh – by God – will you look at that lot on the Cloud ?’
    We were hauled aboard the lifeboat as the men roared laughing. The dinghy was pulled clear and the lifeboat edged closer to the Cambrian Cloud.
    ‘What’s going on, then?’ the Coxswain asked Gladstone. ‘What are you mucking about at?’
    ‘We came out after Mr Vaughan,’ Gladstone replied.
    ‘Silly young b—,’ the Coxswain said. ‘You must be stupid daft. Daft as the bloody visitors.’ The Cox’s name was Solomon Davies, and he was all right: even now he didn’t talk really rough.
    ‘Get aboard, Gladstone Williams,’ he said. ‘We’ll have to rig up a winch for your friend there.’
    ‘Bloody Vaughan,’ someone said near me in the darkness. ‘Let’s leave him till he drops in.’
    ‘You’d have the breweries after you, man. Think of the profit they’d lose.’
    ‘Remember the bastard coming home in his officer’s kit…
    ‘Remember the bastard telling me I was to salute him. Said he’d report me to my commanding officer, he did…’
    ‘What did you tell him, Will?’
    ‘Told him I’d put him in the harbour, sharp, uniform and all. Jesus bach! There was me just back from the Somme.’
    ‘All right, boys,’ the Cox ordered, ‘get him in.’
    ‘I’m not touching the drunken bastard,’ the man at my elbow said. ‘Leave the b—. Might have got these lads