CAPTAIN OF THE TIGRESS DROWNS IN FASTNET STORM
My heart missed a beat – I knew my sister, Ally, was currently sailing in the Fastnet Race and the name of the boat was horribly familiar. The photograph below the headline was of a man, but it didn’t lessen my anxiety. I bought the newspaper and scanned the article nervously as I walked back to the apartment. And, having done so, breathed a sigh of relief that so far, at least, there was no news of any further fatalities. The weather, however, was apparently appalling and three-quarters of the boats had been forced to retire.
Immediately I sent a text message to CeCe and reread the article when I returned to the apartment. Even though my elder sister had been a professional sailor for years, the thought of her dying in a race was one I’d never even contemplated. Everything about Ally was so . . . vital. She lived her life with a fearlessness that I could only admire and envy.
I wrote her a short text saying I’d read about the disaster, and asked her to contact me urgently. My mobile rang as I pressed send, and I saw it was CeCe.
‘I’ve just spoken to Ma, Sia. She called me. Ally was in the Fastnet Race and—’
‘I know, I’ve just been reading about it in the newspaper. Oh God, Cee, I hope she’s okay.’
‘Ma said she’d had a call from someone to say she was. Obviously the boat’s pulled out of the race.’
‘Thank goodness! Poor, poor Ally, losing a crewmate like that.’
‘Terrible. Anyway. I’ll be on my way home in a bit. The new kitchen’s looking fantastic. You’re going to love it.’
‘I’m sure I will.’
‘Oh, and our beds and the double for the spare room have arrived too. We’re finally getting there. I can’t wait until we move in. See you later. ’
CeCe ended the call, and I marvelled at her ability to switch to the practical so quickly after bad news, even though I knew it was just her way of coping. I mulled over whether I should be brave and tell CeCe that, at the grand old age of twenty-seven, perhaps it would be more appropriate to have our own bedrooms rather than share one. If we ever had guests to stay, it would be easy for me to move back into her room for a few days. It seemed ridiculous to be sharing when there was a spare room.
One day, Star, you’ll have to deal with it . . .
But, as always, it was not this day.
As I was packing up my few possessions for the move a couple of days later, I got a call from Ma.
‘Star?’
‘Yes? Is everything all right? Is Ally okay? She hasn’t answered my texts,’ I said anxiously. ‘Have you spoken to her?’
‘I haven’t, no, but I know she’s unhurt. I have spoken to the victim’s mother. You probably read he was the skipper of Ally’s boat. What a lovely woman . . .’ I heard a sigh escape Ma’s lips. ‘Apparently her son left her my number for her to call in case anything happened to him. She thinks he may have had some form of premonition.’
‘You mean, of his own death?’
‘Yes . . . You see, Ally was secretly engaged to him. His name was Theo.’
I was silent as I took in the news.
‘I think Theo knew that Ally might be in shock and unable to contact us herself,’ Ma continued. ‘Especially as she had not yet told any of you that she was in a serious relationship with him.’
‘Did you know, Ma?’
‘Yes, I did, and she was so in love. It’s only been a few days since she left here. She told me that he was “the one”. I . . .’
‘Ma, I’m so very sorry.’
‘Forgive me, chérie, even though I know how life gives and takes away, coming so soon after your father’s death, for Ally, this situation is particularly tragic.’
‘Where is she?’ I asked.
‘In London, staying with Theo’s mother.’
‘Should I go and see her?’
‘I think it would be wonderful if you could attend the funeral. Celia, Theo’s mother, told me it is next Wednesday at two o’clock, at Holy Trinity Church in Chelsea.’
‘We’ll be there, Ma. I promise. Have you contacted the other sisters?’
‘Yes, but none of them can make it.’
‘What about you? Could you come?’
‘I . . . Star, I cannot. But I’m sure that you and CeCe can represent us all. Tell Ally that we send our love.’
‘Of course we will.’
‘I will leave you to tell CeCe. And how are you, Star?’
‘I’m okay. I just . . . can’t bear it for Ally.’
‘Chérie, neither can I. Don’t expect a reply to any message you send her – she isn’t responding to anybody just now.’
‘I won’t. Thank you for telling me. Bye, Ma.’
When CeCe arrived home, I told her as calmly as I could what had happened. And the date of the funeral.
‘Presumably you told Ma that we couldn’t make it? We’ll still be knee-deep in boxes so soon after the move.’
‘CeCe, we have to make it. We have to be there for Ally.’
‘What about our other sisters? Where are they? Why do we have to disrupt our plans? For God’s sake, we didn’t even know the guy.’
‘How can you say that?’ I stood up, feeling all the latent anger I’d been harbouring about to explode. ‘This isn’t about her fiancé, it’s about Ally, our sister! She’s been there for us both all of our lives and now she needs us to be there for her next Wednesday! And we will be!’ Then I left and headed towards the bathroom, which at least had a lock on the door.
Not wishing to see her as I was shaking with rage, I decided I might as well stay here and have a bath. In the claustrophobic concrete jungle that surrounded me, the yellowing tub had often provided a sanctuary I could escape to.
Submerging myself, I then thought of Theo and the fact that he hadn’t ever escaped from the water. I sat up immediately, sending small waves splashing all over the cheap linoleum floor, my breathing ragged with panic.
There was a knock on the door.
‘Sia? Are you okay?’
I swallowed hard, trying to take some deep breaths of air – air that Theo had not found and would never be able to breathe again.
‘Yes.’
‘You’re right.’ There was a long pause. ‘I’m really sorry. Of course we must be there for Ally.’
‘Yes.’ I pulled out the plug and reached over the edge of the bath for my towel. ‘We must.’
The next morning, the removal van and driver CeCe had organised pulled up in front of our apartment. After loading up our few possessions – which mainly encompassed all CeCe’s junk for her new art project – we set off to collect the pieces of furniture she had bought from various shops around south London.
Three hours later, we arrived in Battersea. And, after CeCe had signed whatever she’d needed to sign at the sales office downstairs, the keys to our new home were in her possession. She unlocked the door and let us in, then walked around the echoing room.
‘I just can’t believe that this is all mine. And yours, of course,’ she added generously. ‘We’re safe now, Sia, forever. We have a home of our own. Isn’t it amazing?’