His Horizon - Con Riley Page 0,100

about the way you were treated.” She looked Jude’s way for a long second before saying, “No one should have to hide something so important.”

Trevor’s smile was small but honest. “I take a lot of comfort from knowing that they must have been ecstatic when they eventually got to have both of you kids as well as this place. I wish…” His voice shook. “I wish they hadn’t struggled, but they probably appreciated everything a great deal more for having waited. I know that I did.” He blinked fast a few times. “Now, let me run these numbers again. It’s going to take me a while. I’m sorry, but I want to get this right if I can.”

Somehow, the time passed, Rob steering them all to seats by the window, Jude oblivious to the scenery outside as his whole worldview was shaken. Rob watched him closely, placing one hand over Jude’s and his other over Louise’s. “I don’t know why I ever thought you were quiet,” he admitted. “Your face is so expressive it does all your talking for you.” He pulled a silly face at Louise and added, “Ugly as sin, of course, but still expressive.”

“You love his ugly mug,” Louise said, her smile smug as Rob nodded. “I knew it—” She broke off when Trevor stood straight.

“Okay. This is the best I can do.”

There might have only been a few feet between them but it seemed like nautical miles to Jude, wading instead of easily walking through hope and dread that felt hip-high. Trevor pointed to a much smaller quadrant than Jude had expected, this final chart denoting rocky outcrops, spits of land, and a spatter of small islands he hadn’t come anywhere close to searching.

Jude made his way to the office much, much faster than he’d crossed those few feet in the bar. He ran, catching his hip on the door to the hallway, clipping his shoulder on the office doorframe until he got to the phone, which rang and rang against his ear until his old skipper answered. “Of course,” Tom said without hesitation as soon as Jude blurted his request. “Of course I will. I told you I’d change course for you anytime, didn’t I, Jude? I’ll do it right now, and I’ll spread the word.”

“What’s happening?” Louise asked from the office doorway. “Jude, what are you doing?”

He couldn’t answer right then, too busy typing coordinates into the marine traffic app Trevor had last used to show him the Aphrodite’s position. Now a view of the globe turned on the screen of Louise’s laptop, oh-so-slowly rotating before zooming in on the spot where one old photo, a packet of postcards, and Trevor’s skill had led them.

He checked the names of nearby vessels, searching in vain for the yacht Tom skippered, frustrated that he couldn’t spot her. “Shit.”

“What?” Now Lou sounded upset. “What is it? What’s the matter?”

“The Aphrodite. She’s still miles away. Days away. Fuck.”

On the screen, other ships blinked. The Mykonos, the Amethyst IV, and the Corona Sol were steered by strangers, sailing for pleasure or business, not one of them obligated to him, but when Tom did as he’d promised and sent out one last SOS for Jude’s parents, every single crew responded.

Jude watched, his last hopes rising, as one by one and in almost real time, each vessel changed direction.

34

The next three days were a whole new form of torture.

Jude went through the motions of being competent in the kitchen even though all his knives betrayed him, slicing his knuckles as if he was an amateur rather than a contender for the best new chef in Britain. Rob alternated between making nice with their first paying guests and coming back to the kitchen to dispense first aid. Each time Jude turned the air blue in the kitchen, Rob wrapped each new cut with plasters the same colour, kissing him better for longer than was strictly necessary before getting back to what he did best, making everyone who crossed the New Anchor’s threshold feel welcome and special.

Louise also did her best to maintain a brave face while serving tourists she’d worked so hard to lure back. But like the village missing its sandy star attraction, she too missed something vital.

Trevor, who drove from St Ives early each morning, put his finger on it on the third day. Jude overheard him as Trevor restocked the bar for them without asking. “It’s okay not to know how to feel, sweetheart,” he said to Louise over