of hungry birds. There were holes here and there; small ones. Patches of rust pecked at and worked on by the birds. Nothing so big that one of them could escape through, though. Not yet, anyway.
He returned his mind to the task of cataloguing the things he was going to need to acquire from shore. Trips he could try and combine with shore runs for fresh water and the periodical ‘shopping trip’ in order to conserve the marina’s dwindling store of diesel.
We really can’t stay on these platforms for ever.
As if in answer to his thoughts, another few flakes of dark rust and some more feathers fluttered down.
He heard one of the people above talking; recognised her voice. It was Alice Harton. She had the kind of voice that always seemed to carry. Before the crash she was a manager in a retirement home, which seemed to fit. Walter could imagine the hard-faced cow doing the rounds through a crowded day room, queen of all she surveyed, speaking deliberately loudly, patronisingly slowly, as if talking to a room full of children.
A loud, piercing voice.
Someone else answered, much quieter, murmuring something he couldn’t quite make out.
‘That’s what she said,’ replied Alice. ‘And when I think about it . . . he was quite creepy with them all. Always hanging around them. Not just Jenny, but Leona . . . and Hannah.’
The mousy voice had something to say, again too soft to discern. Walter found himself stepping lightly across the floor, careful not to kick any of the snaking cables. He looked up through a narrow triangular crack, framed by the serrated edges of the rusting floor. Light flickered as someone stepped over him and a feather fluttered down onto his forehead.
‘Well he did, though, didn’t he? Do you remember? He told everyone not to go and look down there for her, didn’t he? Said he’d go look for her himself.’
The softer voice replied with something.
‘Oh, I dunno. I always thought he was a creepy old bastard myself. Hangin’ round the Sutherlands like a fly on a dog turd. Knocking on their quarters at all times. I bet you he was just trying to catch a glimpse of them. Of Hannah.’
Walter’s jaw sagged open with disbelief.
The other woman said something.
‘Oh, yeah, dirty kiddy-fiddler. But he was always all over her, wasn’t he? Holding her hand, hugging her and stuff. It’s not like he was her dad. I’m sorry, but that’s just creepy.’
The quieter woman spoke again.
‘Well that’s what we all thought, wasn’t it? That he was just soppy over Jenny. But now I think about it, I reckon he was just using her and Leona to get closer to the poor little girl, wasn’t he? It all makes sense when you think about it.’
Walter felt his blood run cold. He was half tempted to shout up through the crack that he’d heard what Alice had just said. That she was a dirty-minded bitch and he was coming up there to tell her as much to her face.
‘Oh, yeah,’ said Alice in response to the other woman. ‘Oh, yeah, more I think about it, yeah. It’s possible, isn’t it? He took her down there and maybe this time he did something to her she didn’t like. He went too far. So he panicked and killed her. So, then when the search party came down to the generator room and Jenny found her, he just flipped, didn’t he? Made the generator blow up to cover his tracks.’
The other woman spoke.
‘Or that, yes. Maybe he did pull it off and was waiting for it to blow. All I know is that he was acting very odd about the whole thing.’
Walter felt his heart pounding in his chest. He felt light-headed with panic.
Oh, Christ, is that what people are thinking?
The light through the crack flickered and reappeared as the two women above moved slowly across the floor amidst the chickens.
‘Oooh, that’s a really big egg, look,’ said Alice. ‘Anyway,’ she continued a moment later. ‘If I had kids, I certainly wouldn’t let the dirty bastard near my little ones. No way.’
The other woman said something about Jenny.
‘Well that’s right. Someone should. But she’s such a stubborn bitch. She probably give you a bollocking and throw you off the rigs for spreading rumours. Bloody Jenny’s Law,’ said Alice sarcastically. ‘Bloody Jenny’s Law. Who does she think she is, anyway?’
The other woman stepped across the deck as she spoke quietly.
‘True,’ Alice replied. ‘Maybe he will. He should be