Free Sea Change by Francis Rowan Page B

lived in the village since there were dinosaurs
roaming the lanes, remembers everything and everyone who ever lived
here, likes to tell stories about each and every last one of them.
Makes most of it up, I reckon."
    John saw Sal
reluctantly move to the side in the cabin, but she still hovered
close to Davey, while he bent himself over the controls of the
boat. The sound of the engine rose, the water behind them frothed
white and choppy, and then they were moving out through the
harbour, the sun shining bright on the water, the wind ruffling
John's hair. The gap in the breakwater looked impossibly narrow to
John. They slipped through it, close to one of the towering wet
walls of stone. As they passed, the boat rose, and then fell again,
and rose further still, and then the walls were behind them and
they were into the open sea, the swell much heavier than it had
been in the harbour. John wondered with a sudden panic whether he
would be seasick, the potential humiliation in front of the others
unfolding in his mind like a horror film. He sent his thoughts down
gingerly towards his stomach. It seemed to be all right for now.
How long did seasickness take to start?
    "Do you want to
go see the controls and that?" Simon said.
    John would have
been quite happy just to stay in the back of the boat, feeling wild
and alive as the salt spray from the endless sea broke over his
face, and the wind tugged at him, and he thought I'm not going to
be seasick, and he knew beyond doubt that he was right.
    The air was
calmer inside the cabin, the noise of the engine and the wind and
the water dropping down as Simon closed the door behind them. John
felt as if he had lost something that he had only just discovered.
Davey was standing squinting out of the window as Sal stood
directly in front of the wheel, feet planted firmly apart on the
deck, fingers wrapped tight around the wheel.
    "That'll do,"
Davey said. "Now shift yourself, girl."
    "Uncle Davey,
come on, a little longer?" Sal sounded cross, John thought.
    "Because of the
first rule," Davey said. "You remember the first rule, don't you
Sally?"
    She reluctantly
stepped back from the wheel, letting Davey take over. "Yes, Uncle
Davey, I know it." She sounded as if she had answered that question
a hundred times before. John saw Simon grinning.
    "And what is
it, my love?"
    John got the
feeling that this was a game that they had all played out many
times before.
    Sal pursed her
lips and then muttered something.
    "What was that,
sis, couldn't hear you back here?" Simon said. Sal swivelled her
head and glared at him in a way that made John think of a bird of
prey. Simon just shrugged. "Must be the engine noise and all that.
What did you say?"
    Davey made a
noise that could have started off as a laugh but ended up as a
cough when Sal's hawk gaze swivelled in his direction.
    "The first
rule," she said, through gritted teeth. "The first rule of going
out on the boat is that after a minute you always want to throw
your idiot brother overboard. The second rule, is that it's Uncle
Davey's boat and he's the captain and we're the crew and the crew
always do what the captain says, when he says it, and without
question."
    "Aye, that's
pretty much it," Davey said. "Good to see you can remember it. It's
the first rule though, always the first rule. Throwing your brother
overboard can be the second rule if you like though, seems sensible
enough for me. Anyway, north or south, John? You're the guest, it's
your decision.”
    "Let's go
south," Sal said. "We went north up the coast last time we were
out."
    "That was ages
ago," Simon said. "North's cool."
    "Hey, hey the
pair of you, enough," Davey said wearily. "Every time I take the
pair of you out, it adds years to my life, bloody years. Let John
decide. I'm past caring. Although if he has any sense, what he'll
be deciding is that coming out on this boat with the pair of you
was the biggest mistake he's ever made in his life."
    "South, then,"
John said.
    "There's