Free A Yacht Called Erewhon by Stuart Vaughan Page B

happy to see her move.’
    Dad began to squirm in his seat. This was too much for him. He got up and started to stack up the dishes. Mic quietly joined him at the camp bench and put her arm around him. ‘Don’t try to work it all out tonight, Jim, just believe.’
    ‘That’s easy for you to say, young lady, but I guess the most important thing to work out right now is where you’re going to sleep tonight.’
    ‘Don’t worry, Jim, I’ll take the hammock. It’ll be a whole lot more comfortable than the hay bales I’ve been sleeping on for the past twelve months.’
    ‘I might just hit the hay myself,’ he said, with a chuckle, and then, in a more serious tone, looking her straight in the eye: ‘Whoever you are, you’ve been a big help today and I’m pleased to have you here.’
    Mic smiled. ‘Jim, I love the thought that you’re going to restore Erewhon. Please don’t stress yourself about me.’
    Jim leaned forward, put his arm around her shoulder, and gave her a fatherly peck on the cheek. ‘Goodnight, my dear,’ he whispered.
    I woke to a gentle hand shaking my shoulder. ‘Do you have sugar in your tea, Ben?’ a voice whispered close to my ear. I tried to focus, but my brain wasn’t in gear yet. After a few seconds, I realised Mic was hovering over me with a hot mug of tea in her hand.
    ‘No sugar, just milk,’ I replied. I hadn’t had a morning cup of tea brought to me since I was about twelve and very ill.
    ‘Come on, you lot, we’ve got a yacht to move, and your breakfast is ready.’
    I stumbled out of my lounger and half-toppled over Matt as I made my way towards the table. Breakfast was bacon, eggs, tomatoes, and fried potato. The smell was divine and soon had the others’ nostrils twitching.
    Dad arrived, scratching his head and his bare stomach at the same time. ‘Don’t usually get beaten to the punch at this time of the day. Morning, Mic!’
    I was still having trouble getting my eyes to focus, but when I did I glanced at my watch. ‘Jeez, Mic, it’s only just gone five.’
    ‘Oh, is it too early?’
    ‘Glad to have you around, Mic,’ laughed Dad. ‘I can never get these useless buggers moving before nine!’
    Matt plonked himself in front of one of the huge plates of food.
    ‘Good morning, Matt,’ chirped Mic. ‘Did you sleep well?’
    ‘Don’t know. I only closed my eyes a few minutes ago.’
    Dad had finished eating and was filling his mug with coffeefrom the pot. ‘Nothing like an early start.’
    ‘I’m sorry, boys, but there’s so much to do today, I thought you’d want to be up,’ said Mic.
    ‘Just what we need—another bloody slave driver,’ groaned Matt.
    Dad roared with laughter. He had a new ally. ‘Seeing how we’re all up now, let’s see if we can get the old lady down to the water today.’
    Matt and I grunted, finishing our breakfast without another word.
    Mum finally woke up. ‘What time is it?’ she asked.
    ‘Don’t know,’ replied Matt. ‘Haven’t ever seen these numbers on my watch before!’
    I downed the last mouthful from my mug, grabbed the grease gun, and headed off towards Aggie. Mic looked at Mum, who laughed. ‘Go on, love. I’ll finish cleaning up.’
    I was about to swing into Aggie’s morning ritual with the grease gun when Mic appeared. ‘Can I help?’
    I handed her the gun, ‘Now don’t miss any of the nipples, or she won’t start,’ I warned. She delicately placed the gun on the first nipple and gently squeezed the handle. ‘Give it heaps, or the sun will be down before we get her going.’
    ‘Good job I got you up early then,’ she replied, with a cheeky grin. She soon had the job done and handed the gun back to me, looking disdainfully at her now blackened hands.
    ‘Good. Get into the driver’s seat and crank the engine.’
    Mic obliged and pressed the start button. Aggie roared into life, and she threw her into gear. Spinning on the spot, she didn’t wait for us to climb on, and was soon off down the track