Cold by Jim Pearce

Author:Jim Pearce
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Thriller
Publisher: Troubador Publishing Ltd
Published: 2022-11-16T00:00:00+00:00

Eight

A new kind of sailing holiday

Jane got onto the sofa beside her to share body heat while offering her tea. I rubbed her arms. They were stiff, cold and thin. Too thin. Eva was now back below decks and was speaking to her.

She also brushed her cheeks and nose where the icicle had been. I saw a tear in Eva’s eye. After five attempts Jane managed to pry her lips apart and get a few drops of the hot, sugary tea down her throat. Ten minutes later I saw her chest move more vigorously as she breathed more normally. I saw a tiny bit of colour in her cheek, and I turned away also, a tear in my eye.

We were done for the day. It was dusk. We were alone, could only make out the icy white surface of the sea in every direction; we were all bitterly cold. But we were alive, we had escaped the gang, and we were on our way. Even Kisi seemed excited to be on our cross-Channel adventure.

Dinner that night was a mixed affair. It should have been a massive celebration. It had been one hell of a long day. Against that, Mary was in a bad way and we had the betrayal of Richard by one of our own group.

First the mechanics of dinner. We kept Mary wrapped up in all the bedding we had and Jane volunteered to stay lying with her to share body heat. Having lowered the sails and stowed them, the wind still whistled past the mast and rigging but we didn’t move. We seemed safe and alone in the desolate darkness on the ice. There was not much cloud cover but you couldn’t see any stars at night since the freeze, such was the ash ceiling above our planet. In the cold we rushed from one hull to the other; it was only the hulls that were slightly warmer. Billy took on the job of doing dinner in our small galley. First major job was to get some more water. I walked out across the ice with Eva and we scraped up what snow we could find into two large pots. The Calor gas stove in the galley was a two-burner stove. It wasn’t powerful and seemed to take an eternity to melt the snow and boil the water.

Finally dinner was ready and we all sat around the crowded galley table in the one hull.

‘Should we say grace?’ offered Mary, finally able to utter a word.

‘Sure,’ Richard responded gladly.

I knew that Mary was religious, but praying out loud was new for us.

‘Let us thank God for our deliverance and our new friend, Richard, and pray for the souls of our lost friends, Bob, Paul and Lina.’ She spoke quietly but clearly with her hands clasped and head down.

We shuffled awkwardly and there were a couple of muttered ‘amens’. Richard smiled at Mary to thank her. Matt was silent.

We had used the two hobs to good effect, powdered soup

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