Hostage to Fortune

'It is ard to tell such things mam'selle. Dealing with the physical problems may change him. He has had to confront is own mortality, that often changes a man's outlook. I keep him ere another two maybe three days, so I can be sure there are no complications, then you take him home for your doctors to get him back on his feet.'

Will was somewhat subdued when we went back into the room. I couldn't remember a time when he looked so down.

'Looks like you've got your wish Steph, you're going to have to deal with Sir George on your own. I'm not going to be doing much for a while. Looks like my days of making the business world tremble are over for a while.'

'That's not fair and you know it. My only wish was for you to be unharmed. I've already told you I don't want to run your business.'

'Now lad, if it weren't for this lass you wouldn't even be here. So just lay off. You've had a couple of big shocks, so we'll cut you some slack, but I have to say your mum would be appalled if she heard you taking it out on this girl.'

Tom turned to me. 'You get off lass. Go and get some lunch and take a break. I'll deal with misery guts.'

I got back that evening to find The Rolling Stones on the iPod and Father and son arguing.

'They're all playing different things, there's no structure to it.' Will said.

'Aye lad it's like life, sometimes you just let people do their own thing and it just works.'

'It's a noise. Tell him Steph.'

'I quite like it. I grew up with The Stones My dad's favourite was The Midnight Rambler.'

'Now you're talking lass, your father had good taste.'

Will sat in the bed with his hands over his ears, pretending to cringe. He had the look of a little boy willing his parents not to punish him. If his adversaries in The City and Wall Street saw him now they'd wonder why they ever feared him. I pulled out my phone and pointed it towards him.

'I'm going to photograph that look and put it on the internet. Will Wainwright looking for attention.'

'Don't you dare. Come on Fletcher give me the phone.'

Tom interrupted our little game by telling us he was going out to dinner. Dr Montand had put him in touch with a member of the memorial association.

After Tom left things went quiet for a while. Will seemed to look at me in a strange way, almost as if he was seeing me for the first time. It made me feel a bit nervous so I broke the silence.

'You two seem to be getting on better.'

'What? Oh! You mean dad and me. Yeah, I've been enjoying winding him up a bit.'

'Well whatever it is has put you in a better mood'

'Yes! I realised that until I can walk again, I can still work just as well from a wheelchair. I am going to you know. Walk that is.'

'I never doubted it for a minute.' I smiled at him.

He started giving me that look again. 'How old are you Steph? 26? 27?'

'I'm 29, not that it is any of your business.'

'No potential suitors on the horizon? I mean a woman of 29 has got to have thought about marriage at some time.'

'I've thought about it but I don't seem to have the time for relationships.'

'I thought they'd be queueing around the block. A girl like you should be beating them off with a stick.'

'Perhaps I already have, and they've got tired of being beaten.'

'More fool them. --So there's no one likely to sweep you off your feet and take you away from me?'

'No I don't think so.'

'Good, good. Now tell me about your plan for Sir George'

I outlined the plan to him and told him that having seen the news, Sir George had been on the phone asking what was happening.

'Did you tell him I was OK?'

'I told him he had nothing to worry about. He seemed to accept that.'

'Good girl. Now you've got Sir George onside, do you think you can handle acquiring the company?'

'Are you serious?'

'Of course, I am you've already got Sir George eating out of your hand. I bet he trusts you more than he trusts me. I can always help if you need it, but I'm sure you won't.'

'Well since you have such faith in me, you'll have no problems with the plans I've made for your recovery.'

We talked about physiotherapy and what needed to be done to ensure that he could cope in his flat. We talked about what to do about Sam and Ryan without any real decision. As evening came upon us, Will advised me to go back to the hotel.

'I don't need anyone to sit with me. You and dad should get a good night's sleep.'

I fought against an overwhelming urge to kiss him. I just said goodnight and left.

Ryan felt a level of relief as he cuddled up Samantha's back. Having filed the man overboard report he was over one more hurdle. If he could just get Samantha to hold her nerve, it would still work. Once more he cursed the change of plan. If Sam had flown to Gibraltar she wouldn't have seen it happen. He was convinced that it was seeing it happen that had caused her adverse reaction. Maybe he should have left it until the homeward journey at the end of the Holiday.

`Holiday he'd called it, but everyone knew Will Wainwright never took Holidays. Even on this one, he'd planned to fly back to London to do some business. How could a woman love a man like that, who always put business first? Sam deserved better than that. She deserved the attention that only he could give her.'

He moulded himself to Sam's body and was soon asleep. Samantha was pretending to be asleep but a close observer would have seen the tears running from her eyes. Now Ryan had filed the report she was forcing herself to confront the fact that Will was dead, and it was all her fault. How could she have been so stupid? Ryan was just a boy, how could he possibly be expected to handle the situation she'd put him in. Now he'd put her in a position where she was going to have to lie to the authorities in Gibraltar and make them believe the lie. The alternative was that she'd be charged with Murder. It wasn't fair, she hadn't wanted any of this. She felt Ryan pull in close behind her. It took all her willpower not to pull away from him. The realisation that for the foreseeable future, her life would be inextricably linked to Ryan's, did nothing to improve her mood.

She woke up alone. There was a whirring noise coming from somewhere above her head. She got out of bed and went to the bathroom for a shower. When she got out on deck she found Ryan in a bouyant mood. He was in the process of raising more sail and Sam realised that the noise that had woken her was actually a power winch raising the sail. The sea had calmed and Bee Jay was moving quickly through the water.

'We're making good time again. We'll probably make Gib by tomorrow night. I'll anchor offshore and take her in on the engine the following day.'

Samantha just nodded and kept her eyes firmly fixed on the deck.

'Hey come on Sam, it's nearly over. The Gibraltar police will probably want a word, but a week from now we could be cruising The Med with a full crew, having a whale of a time.'

'I just want to go home.'

Ryan stopped for a minute to think about it. 'Yeah, yeah that might be best, more normal. We can both fly home and leave the boat in Gibraltar. We can always come back in a month or two. --Hey don't look so down I saw something this morning that will cheer you up. Take a look off the port bow.'

Sam moved to the left side of the boat leaned out and looked forward. For a moment she saw nothing. She looked back at Ryan then back out to sea. It didn't take long before she saw them leaping out of the water just ahead of the boat.

'Dolphins? Are they dolphins?'

'They certainly are. They've been with us for about an hour now. If you go for'ard you might see them bow riding.'

Samantha made her way to the bow of the yacht and leaned over the rail. Just below the surface, she could see them, two on one side, three on the other, riding in the wake of Bee Jay's bow wave. Initially, she was excited, they seemed so close. Then she remembered that Will had told her that sailors had always thought of dolphins as being lucky. Looking down she started to talk to the creatures.

'You're too late. It was Will who needed your luck and now he's gone. I'm not the one who deserves your luck. Where were you when he needed you?'

She realised, of course, that the creatures could neither hear nor understand her but she had to talk to someone, and saying what she wanted to say to Ryan was out of the question.

'Will says you are the smartest creatures in the ocean. I bet you don't go killing each other, in fits of jealousy, do you? He told me you defend each other. All for one and one for all just like the Musketeers. Why can't we be more like you?'

She knelt on the edge of the deck and reached down to touch the animals beneath her. Despite being on the low side of the boat, her fingers didn't even reach the sea. She leaned further. She started to fall forward, but before she could scream, she felt a hand grasping the waist of her jeans.

'You silly bitch, are you trying to get yourself killed.' Ryan asked as he pulled her back on board. 'I knew you'd want to see them but I didn't expect you to try and get in with them.'

'I didn't, I mean I wasn't. I just...' She stopped as she looked up at Ryan and saw he was smiling.

'Don't you see what this means. This is good luck, everything is going to be fine.'

'I hope so.' Sam responded, thinking to herself that the only thing that would make everything fine would be for Will to be alive and well when they reached Gibraltar. She clung to that thought long after the dolphins had left them. She was noticeably brighter and didn't even resist when Ryan tried to make love to her that night.

Both Sam and Ryan were upbeat, the following day, and Samantha got quite excited when the Spanish coast came into view. It was late in the afternoon and she hoped they would get into Gibraltar before dark. However, Ryan was adamant that they should anchor in Spanish waters and go into port the next morning. With all the sails down, he went about stowing the canvas. By nightfall, he was ready. As Sam prepared a meal, he set about fashioning a sling. After supper, he called her out on deck and handed her a winch handle.

'I need you to hit me on the arm with this. I told the coast guard that I was injured, so I need to have something to show people.'

'I can't. I don't go around hurting people.'

'Don't be daft. I'm not asking for anything nasty, just a bit of serious bruising. Now come on I'll hold my arm out and you hit it with that.'

'You'll have to look away, I can't do it if you look at me.'

Ryan held his arm out and turned his head. Sam raised the winch handle above her head and brought it down with all the force she could muster. Ryan couldn't believe the pain as the handle struck him.

He let out a scream and grabbed his arm. 'Bloody hell Sam you only had to hit it, not break it off.'

He winced as he eased his arm into the sling.

'I'm sorry, I didn't know how hard to hit it.'

Sam went to the medicine cabinet and came back with Ibuprofen and Paracetamol. By the time they turned in Ryan became convinced that his arm was broken. He crept into bed and lay on his back. He managed intermittent sleep between doses of painkillers. Around eight in the morning, he fell into a deep sleep. Samantha let him sleep until midday then woke him with a cup of coffee.

'Are you OK? Can you manage to take us in?'

'I can probably manage, but I'll need help.'

'Does it hurt much?'

'Quite a bit yes, but it's better than last night.'

'Sorry, I didn't know how hard to hit you. What do we do now?'

'Well, we take her into harbour, file a full report and wait. The police will want to talk to us. --Don't forget the squall hit us and Will got out of bed saying we were carrying too much sail and he had to go aloft and bring it in. You heard him call me up to help. When I got up on deck there was no sign of him. I started taking the sails in and called to you to come up and look for him. I'd got most of the sails in when a gust caught the rear sail and the boom swung around I put my arm up to protect myself and that's how I got injured. I called the coastguard but was too badly injured to handle the boat on my own so we had to let the computer sail her, which brought us here. Perhaps it was a good thing you hit me so hard, it makes it more believable.'

'Can you really take us in with only one hand?'

'I'll get the harbour master on the radio, get someone to help us tie up.'

They had breakfast and Ryan called up the harbour master. He started the engine weighed anchor, and set off for Gibraltar Harbour.

Once inside the harbour Ryan steered the boat to the berth, the Harbour Master had instructed him to use and sure enough, a dock worker was there waiting to help them tie up. Samantha helped by handling the throttle while Ryan had the helm. When they came alongside the birth, Ryan threw the rope and the dockworker tied them up. Ryan made his way to the Harbour Master's office, made his report, then called for a taxi to take him to the hospital.

Chapter 7

After the talk with Dr Montand, I started work on getting Will back to Britain. Chartering a private plane to fly him home was the easy part. In order to get him back into the country, he needed his passport, which at that moment was sitting in the safe on board Bee Jay II. In an ideal world, a few phone calls would have done the job but that doesn't allow for the machinations of the British Home Office. For them, nothing less than a declaration that the old passport had been lost or stolen would do. This had to be accompanied by an application for a new passport, two photographs and, of course, the fee. It took twenty minutes to charter the plane and two days to get the passport. Sometime during that two days word got out that Will was alive

Will made good progress in those two days. He still could not control his left leg but he was managing to get around on crutches. When we left the hospital with Will in a wheelchair, a hoard of reporters and cameramen confronted us, all shouting questions at Will. I stepped forward and gave them a statement which I hoped would satisfy them.

'Mr Wainwright was involved in a serious sailing accident and sustained a severe head injury. He was lucky enough to be rescued and brought here. He would like to thank the doctors and all the staff of the hospital for the excellent work they've done for him. For now, he is just concentrating on getting home and starting his physiotherapy.'

If I thought that would calm things down, I was wrong. They still crowded us making it difficult to get to the taxi. Tom was trying to force a way through them. When he found a TV reporter and his cameraman standing between the taxi and us, he had a quiet word with him.

'Look arsehole, perhaps you didn't hear, but my boy has had a serious injury and he doesn't need you pushing microphones and cameras in his face. Now one of two things is going to happen here. Either you gentlemen are going to step aside or your friends are going to get some excellent footage of me shoving his camera up your arse.'

I looked down to see Will smiling as his sixty-year-old father threatened two men who were twenty years his junior. When the two men stepped aside and the cameraman opened the taxi door, neither of us could believe it. Tom and I, got Will into the taxi. As we all sat down Tom looked out of the window.

'Bloody Vultures. ' He said referring to the pressmen.

Will put his hand on his father's arm. 'I'm beginning to see you in a new light. I often wondered how you managed to build up that business. You're a hardnosed old bastard aren't you?'

'I just did what had to be done, lad.'

I looked at the two of them and laughed. 'Seems to me, that the apple didn't fall far from the tree.'

I expected Will to dispute what I'd said but he didn't he just laughed.

Ryan had only been gone for twenty minutes when Samantha heard someone calling. She went out on deck to find Inspector Garcia of the Gibraltar constabulary asking to come aboard.

'I'd like to talk to you about your husband's disappearance, Mrs Wainwright.'

Sam welcomed him aboard and started to tell the story Ryan had given her. She found it difficult and frequently burst into tears. Inspector Garcia was a patient man and let her tell the story at her own speed. She'd expected the inspector to listen to her story and leave, she surprised when he started to ask her questions.

'Did Mr Wainwright have any money worries at all?'

'No, not that I know of. I mean look around you inspector. Does this look like the boat of a man with money worries?'

'You never can tell Mrs Wainwright, things change very rapidly in the business world, but thank you for the invitation I would like to look around. Helps me get to know the man.--Now how about the two of you? You getting on alright are you.'

'Yes, of course. What are you implying? It was an accident.'

'I'm sure it was, but no one saw it happen. I have to investigate all possibilities. When an experienced sailor, like Mr Wainwright, goes overboard and disappears without a trace, we have to ask questions. --Now if I could just have a look around?'

Samantha showed him around the boat. The inspector told her he was not a nautical man himself but still seemed very interested. He asked to see where Ryan slept and she showed him the crew's cabin.

'How many crew do you normally need for a boat this size?

'It's possible to sail her single handed. Everything is computer controlled. Will doesn't think that is safe so he likes at least two. He loves to sail her, which is why we didn't hire a crew in Britain. I was supposed to fly on ahead and he'd sail Bee Jay here then hand her over to the crew so we could just relax and enjoy each other's company.'

'Why the change of plan?'

'Will had been away for a long time, I just wanted to be with him as much as possible.'

'What about Mr Betts, Ryan? Did he and Mr Wainwright get on?'

'Yes, I think so. They had something in common, they both hated their father's'

'And why is that Mrs Wainwright?'

'I don't know about Will inspector, he would never talk about it. I know Ryan was a bit wild, hung around with the wrong crowd. His father more or less disowned him. His father runs the boatyard that looks after Bee Jay. Will offered him a job as the only permanent crewmember, on the condition that he kept his nose clean.'

'Mrs Wainwright, several times you've talked about your husband in the present tense, do you think he is still alive?'

Samantha burst into tears again, through the sobs, she tried to answer the question.

'I have to hope inspector. I know the odds are against it. No one has found him and the sea is so cold, but I have to hope.'

The inspector took her hand in his. 'Of course, you do my dear. I'm sorry to have upset you.'

He got up to leave, then turned back to Samantha. 'We are going to have to get Scene of Crime officers down here to go over the boat, just for the inquest you understand.'

'What do you mean Scene of Crime? It was an accident.'

'It is just what we call them Mrs Wainwright. Before your husband can be declared legally dead, there has to be an inquest. The coroner will expect me to have investigated every possibility. The SOC team may be able to shed light on what happened. It probably was an accident, as you say, but it could be suicide, or your husband may have deliberately staged his own disappearance. Stranger things have happened'

The inspector had been careful to avoid mentioning the other possibility that had been going through his head, murder.

'When can I expect this team inspector?'

'Very soon. Certainly within the next hour.'

'They will need to take your fingerprints and DNA, for elimination purposes, and I'm afraid you'll have to leave the boat while they are working. --Maybe you'd like to see how Mr Betts is doing at the hospital.'