Derek is on the PA system commentating. I’m not too sure what’s going on, but I hear Ryan’s name mentioned a couple of times. We watch for a while, but I still can’t make out who’s who.
‘Ryan’s out in front!’ Sonny cries.
‘Go, Ryan!’ Tia yells, her confident cry ringing out across the water.
The crowd along the shoreline are cheering and waving, even though there’s no way any of the competitors would be able to hear from so far away. They’re getting closer though, and as they do, their speed takes my breath away. I wonder why I’ve never got involved in sailing. It’s such a big part of Ashridge life and it looks like something I would enjoy – a real adrenalin rush. Nathan would probably laugh if I suggested it though. He’d tell me I wasn’t suited to it. That I’d end up hurting myself or making a fool of myself. He’s probably right.
‘Oh no!’ Sonny’s cry draws our attention. ‘I think… I think Ryan’s in trouble.’
‘What do you mean?’ Kelly takes the binoculars from her son and swears under her breath as she attempts to refocus them and get the boats in her sight. ‘Which one is he?’ Kelly cries.
‘Number seventeen,’ Sonny replies, his eyes full of fear. ‘He’ll be okay, won’t he?’
‘He’ll be fine,’ I say, taking Sonny’s hand and giving it a rub. Although I have no idea what’s actually happening out there. I glance over at Kelly’s white features and pray that Ryan’s okay. She can’t have another tragedy in her life. Not after losing Michael.
Twenty-Three
FIONA
I strain my eyes to try and work out what’s happening out on the lake. But all I can see are a mass of white sails and churned-up water.
‘It looks like Ryan turned too sharply!’ Kelly’s body is rigid as she follows the progress of her son through the binoculars.
A few spectators on the shore are pointing. Even without binoculars I can see that one of the boats is in difficulty; it’s keeling over. The other boats have all overtaken it and a couple of race stewards in a speedboat are heading out across the lake towards number seventeen.
‘I should never have let him enter,’ Kelly cries. ‘He’s hasn’t sailed in over a year. He’s out of practice, and it’s so windy out there. What was I thinking?’
‘Kels…’ Tia puts an arm around her before I can get to her. ‘Don’t worry. Dinghies capsize all the time. He knows what to do. He’ll be fine.’
‘But he’ll be so scared. What if he’s hurt?’
Lucinda and her cronies are openly staring at us now and I really want to tell them to get lost – not that I would do that, because that would mean losing control and making a scene and I don’t feel strong enough for that. Not today anyway. Their sideways glances are making my cheeks heat up and my chest constrict. I feel like a child again. Their whole pathetic behaviour is all too reminiscent of a time I’d rather forget. I force myself to look away. To ignore them. To not let all those old feelings well up and paralyse me. I have more important things to worry about right now. Like whether Ryan’s okay.
Derek’s tinny voice on the PA cuts through our growing panic. ‘… and I’m being told that Ryan Taylor is safe and well. If a little wet!’
A cheer goes up, and Kelly starts to cry. ‘Oh, thank goodness.’
Tia and I wrap our arms around our friend. I put Lucinda out of my head. She’s not important.
Derek’s commentary continues. ‘What a shame! If he hadn’t tacked quite so sharply he might have been picking up a gold medal. Better luck next time, Ryan!’
‘I better go down to the jetty and see if he’s okay,’ Kelly says, extricating herself. ‘Sonny, you stay here with Tia and Fiona.’
‘But, Mum, I want to—’
‘Sonny, can you help me find a good spot to set up the picnic?’ I interrupt, trying to distract him. ‘Ryan will be hungry when he gets here.’
Kelly throws me a grateful glance and rushes off.
Forty minutes later, we’re all set up on the grassy bank with picnic rugs, chairs, hampers and cold boxes laid out in an enticing spread. Ryan’s changed into dry clothes and is being treated like royalty by everyone who passes – offering him their commiserations, asking if he’s okay, and telling him what a hero he is for capsizing so spectacularly – but the scowl hasn’t left his features. The