Under the Sky

* * * * *

Before midday they tied up alongside the visitor's pontoon, with everyone on deck

making lines fast and adjusting fenders to keep the boat from being scratched. Steve cast a final eye around, then turned off the engine which they'd used to make their final approach.

"Well done Hannah -- good work. Right then, team, we need to be away at one-thirty. Not two o'clock and not running up the pontoon at one twenty-five, ok? If I may suggest, lets walk up to the Chain Locker -- they do a good pub meal. If you girls want a quick wander, there's a few crappy tourist shops on the main street." He grinned at them, but they didn't bite.

"Yes, food!" exclaimed Hannah, "I could murder a bag of chips right now. All I had for breakfast was that apple."

"Well, we can't have you fainting, and I fancy a pint too," Paul replied, rubbing his hands enthusiastically.

The crew followed behind Steve's flip-flopped heels, the girls feeling conspicuous in their red sailing jackets, but they were needed because in the shadows it was chilly. The narrow lane from the harbour was less than picturesque, with restaurant bins and back doors, but then a harbour is a working space.

The pub was only a minute's walk and soon they found a table with a view over the water towards the old fortress of St Mawes Castle, that had guarded the approaches from the Spanish or anyone else who didn't like Henry VIII.

The girls took the more comfortable bench seats while the guys craned their necks from their seats opposite, to see what beers were on offer at the bar. There was a quick agreement on food and Paul got up from the table to place their order. Steve watched him go, toying with the cutlery in front of him pensively.

The interior was a mix of chic dining, in a steel and glass extension, with a traditional low-beamed ale house, its walls crammed with sailing pictures. Old photos of elegant yachts competing in regattas contrasted with images of men with beards and pipes posing by carts loaded with fish-crates from the black and white sea. Trophy oars and unknown heraldic crests lined the beams over the bar.

It was not yet busy, so Paul soon returned with the drinks, his big hands comfortably grasping all the glasses.

"Are you not drinking, Hannah?" asked Kay, who had a large glass of red wine in front of her. Hannah had asked for spritzer in which long lines of bubbles streamed to its lemon topped surface.

"No, Kay. If I touch any alcohol, I'll be a wreck by three o'clock. Catch me after six and I'll fight you for a pint, but lunchtimes -- nah! " Hannah replied as they all toasted 'fair winds'.

Steve had his arm laid casually over the back of Paul's chair as he turned to confide in his new mate. The two men soon had their heads together in a conspiratorial fashion. At each punchline they howled with laughter, but it was clear that the jokes were blue and they didn't want to share them with the girls, who instead chatted quietly together about Kay's home town and her family. Hannah was pleased to see Paul enjoying himself, and Steve was making an effort to ensure that he did. Kay noticed the affection between the men, but dismissed the idea from her head and turned back to Hannah.

The food arrived, brought by a cheery waitress with a good memory for the selections. Hannah had been ambitious with her hunger, but immediately tucked into her old fashioned cod and chips. Steve and Paul had mussels and shared a large bowl between them, while Kay had a hot brie salad.

Steve checked his watch a couple of times as they ate, keeping Hannah on edge over their schedule. There was no time for puddings, and, following tradition, the crew paid for the skipper's meal while Paul attended the bar. Kay made a fuss to tell Paul that she would repay him, but he amicably waved her suggestion away.

"We'll see you back on board then, ladies. Watch the time!" Steve called back as the girls paused at a shop window.

They were happy to have some minutes in each other's company, and window-shopped their way past pastries and pasties, and chintzy clothes. They compared properties for sale in the window of an estate agent, and joked about retirement and millionaires.

Soon it was time to return and Kay asked if she thought the men would like the pastries she'd bought. Hannah peeked inside the bag Kay offered up and smiled in reply.

"Cake, jam, cream? You can't go wrong with those, Kay. Come on, we'd better hurry."

* * * * *

Back at sea, they were a merry bunch. All of them had been reinvigorated by the excellent meal, and they soon relaxed back into the routine of the boat. They motored a mile or two to clear the headland then turned west once more with the sails close hauled and the boat heeled at a sharp angle.

"Dolphins!" Paul called, pointing ahead to a patch of black water.

Sleek curves sliced the waves, dark shapes flecked by sunlight in a darker ocean. They were quick like dogs chasing a car, performing effortless turns and slipping from one side of the bow to the other. Kay worried they might hit them.

"Come on then, research people! What kind of dolphins are they?" Steve challenged with a loud call from the wheel.

Hannah and Kay exchanged glances then looked back at Steve. Kay shrugged, so Hannah pulled her into a huddle to confer. After a bit of head nodding, they stood to face Steve, who was now grinning broadly, leaning on one leg to feign puzzlement.

"We think," said Kay, turning to Hannah for her reassuring nod. "We think you are talking sheet and already you know that these creatures are porpoises. Harbour porpoises, I think - we think."

Steve and Paul roared with laughter at Kay's cheeky rebuttal.

"She made me say the sheet word, which she tell me is correct," Kay turned and pointed to Hannah, who also joined in the laughter.

"Oh Karolina! I love you to bits," said Hannah, giving her a hug.

For the rest of the afternoon, the running joke became sheet this and sheet that. "Shall we have a cup of sheet tea? Can someone grab a sheety winch handle?"

For a time, Paul took the helm, while Steve offered him instructions as he stood at his shoulder. Occasionally he got it wrong and the sails flogged and cracked in the wind, but he had a good feel for the elements and soon found the rhythm. Hannah realised she felt put out that she was not the person instructing Paul, but Steve was both the skipper and the boss.

Hannah positioned herself so that she could watch the sails and see how they bent to make such graceful shapes. She mused that perhaps the wind was her element and remembered how as a child, she imagined her hand was a plane through the open car window, feeling the air fight her hand one way then lift it another.

It was approaching five o'clock as they began to turn north past Lands End and the famous lighthouse of Longships. As they rounded the famous landmark the wind at first strengthened, demanding quick action to reduce their sails. Then, as evening began to fall, the wind vanished altogether.

To groans of disappointment all round, they were forced to start the engine. On deck its noise rose and vibrated their feet, but below in their cabins, it became all encompassing. Not so much deafening, but unrelenting. Lying in her sleeping bag, its roar became a comfort to Hannah -- never changing its note or vibration, it left no space for thoughts or dreams, but sleep, after so much fresh sea air, was never far away.

Kay and Hannah had been given the 'graveyard watch' from midnight till four. Hannah woke first. She pulled on all the warm clothes she had brought, then studied the charts to check on their progress. On deck, above the noise of the engine, she could hear Paul and Steve chattering away like a couple of fish wives. Paul would be hoarse by the morning, she smiled to herself.

Hannah tapped on Kay's door and opened it. She found Kay sitting on the edge of her bunk, her feet not quite touching the floor, rubbing her eyes. She responded to Hannah's 'hello' with a weary nod and reached for her jacket. Hannah felt a pang of guilt to be waking her.

After changing watches, Paul had given her a quick peck on the lips then disappeared below. Hannah made her usual checks before settling down next to Kay, but found her not very talkative this evening. This time it was Hannah who looked up into her face to force a smile.

Sometime after their second mug of tea, Kay excused herself to go below. A few minutes later she returned and sat on the bench opposite Hannah.

She was sitting upright and had her hands tucked under her legs. She glanced up at Hannah a couple of times, until finally Hannah wondered why.

"What's up, Kay. Are you feeling ok? Not seasick or anything?" Hannah enquired, because she could tell something was amiss.

Kay made to say something, then stopped, until finally she spoke, but directed her face to her knees.

"Hannah. Just now, when I am going below I notice, well I hear the noise of your cabin door banging. I go to close the door, but also I look inside and I cannot see Paul. It was dark, so I put on the light and no, he is not there. So I think maybe he is in the toilet but he is not there neither..."

Before she could finish, Hannah was on her feet and jumping the companionway steps in one leap. She flung open the cabin door and checked both toilets but there was no sign of Paul. She switched the saloon lights on full to see if he was asleep on a bench, but he was nowhere to be found.

Her heart began to thump in her chest as the panic set in. Without a thought she threw open the door to Steve's cabin.

"Steve, Steve, I think Paul is missing, I think he might be overboard!" she shouted in desperation.

Steve was naked, kneeling upright on his bunk. His lower half was obscured by Paul's naked back, his head lost in a drift of pillows and bags. Steve's chubby hands rested on Paul's ass.

Hannah looked at the scene uncomprehendingly. She was unable to move, her mouth hanging from where a word had stopped, with her brain at a complete halt, grid-locked with too many neurones firing at once.

She watched as Paul lifted his shoulders and his eyes were suddenly piercing hers -- empty, dark eyes.

She saw Steve's hands raise in a shrug but at that moment Kay appeared at Hannah's side, then glancing inside the cabin she pulled hard at her arm, dragging her forcefully away from the doorway. She put herself between Hannah and the cabin and pulled the door shut with a bang.

"Hannah, Hannah, come with me, come up away from them. Please Hannah, take my hands." Kay took Hannah by the lapels of her jacket and shook her as she spoke, then led her by dragging her arm, up the companionway steps. They stumbled out on deck.

Kay had seen this coming. She had suspected Steve had designs on Paul, but knew nothing of Paul's background. She felt angry with herself for not phrasing her words the right way, for sending Hannah into a panic, for letting her discover the two men together.

She pushed Hannah back onto the cockpit bench, resorting to words muttered in her natural Polish tongue. Hannah did not speak, but her eyes were full of tears that refused to fall.

Kay reached to Hannah's jacket, to button and zip her more tightly into its warmth. What could she say? There was nothing that could ease the pain she could see in Hannah's face -- her numb expression of disbelief. Instead she squeezed in behind Hannah and put her arms around her chest, pulling her into the little comfort she felt she could offer.

Hannah sat motionless as Kay held her head close to hers to kiss and gently stroke her hair as a mother might do. For some minutes there was silence. Kay was full of tension and her own mind raced as she struggled with words, struggled with her own emotions and tried to gauge the feelings of the woman she held, but barely knew, in her arms.

She liked Hannah. Hannah was an easy person to like -- always cheerful, serious but then funny, a feminist like herself, both strong and tender.

'Why?' Kay thought to herself. 'Do shitty things happen to good people?'

When Hannah moved it was to pull away from her embrace. Hannah lent forward, her head resting on her folded arms on her knees. Kay placed a hand on her back so she would not be alone.

From below Kay heard a door slam and she saw the saloon lights go off. Then silence. Darkness. Only the note of the engine stayed unmoved and unchanged: the only constant between the deception of the past to the bleak reality of now.

After a few minutes Hannah rose to her feet and waved Kay's concern away with her hand. She stooped to clip her lifeline into the jackstay line that ran the length of the boat and walked away into the dark.

Kay rose to her feet to watch anxiously, for she feared what Hannah's mood had become. In the darkness, she saw the other girl make her way up to the bow, to lean against the forestay cable.

The sea was the oily black of a nightmare in which Venus and Jupiter now twinkled in a glittering ribbon to the boat. Kay waited a few minutes then made her way forward to Hannah, who had not moved.

Kay reached out and put her arms round Hannah's waist, for she was also nervous of being in this precarious spot. She could not bear to see her friend suffer alone, but felt helpless and unable to do more than be with her. At the same time she worried that they were leaving the wheel unattended.

"Hannah? Is it safe for us to be here? There is no one in the cockpit."

Hannah was looking dead ahead and simply nodded, then turned her face toward Kay. She could see the fearful worry in Kay's eyes and suddenly felt a rush of affection for her. She turned and put her arms around the girl. They stood in silence, feeling each other's body close, the movement of the boat lurching gently through the blackness, and always, the dull drone of the engine.

"I'm sorry you were involved in this, Kay," Hannah finally spoke, leaning back to look into the other girl's eyes. "This isn't a very nice trip for you now, is it? What a horrible memory this will be for you. I'm sorry this happened."

"But Hannah, you must not worry for me," Kay replied, rubbing her hands over Hannah's arms. "Argh, I have not the right words. You are a good person, Hannah, and he -- he is a fool. I do not know you so well and him not at all, so I am lost to say what is in my heart for you. It breaks me to see you like this."

"Me neither," Hannah replied. "I have no words either. I feel empty here." She put her hand to her heart. "I was thinking as I stood here, that I have no right to be upset. Paul is his own man and when I count how many days we have known each other -- actually been together, it is not so long. Just a summer. One summer long ago that was a dream. How well do we really know what is in another person's heart? What secrets they carry? No, it's me who's been the fool -- giving my heart away too easily."

"You give your heart because you have so much heart to share. You are a kind person, Hannah, but you are so much more. You are strong and honest and funny and have life in you that make other people feel good. I feel good when I with you. I... I am sorry, I say too much this time. Please come back to the wheel. I feel safer when you are there."

Kay moved to turn away, but Hannah took her arm to stop her. She nodded up at the sky.

"The planets are lying, Kay. Look how pretty they are up there -- they could be holding hands, they are so close. Do you think Jupiter and Venus know each other's hearts?"

"Argh -- we are not gods like them. What they know of hearts? Stupid planets!" Kay turned to Hannah, with a smile.

"Thanks Kay. Thank you for coming to find me," Hannah replied quietly.

"So beautiful," Kay replied and leaned forward to kiss Hannah on her lips. "Now come, I make Polish cocoa and maybe add vodka. You have vodka?"

"God no!" Hannah laughed back.

"No, nor me," Kay pouted angrily. "But we have pianka just the same. Come, Hannah, I will look after you."

The two women carefully made their way back over the slippery deck and Kay settled Hannah in the cockpit. She then went to the galley and made the cocoa. They drank it quietly together, then Kay took Hannah's hand, kissed it and held it in hers.

As the end of their watch approached, Kay turned to Hannah and spoke in a serious direct tone that surprised her.

"So, Hannah. You must go to my cabin and close the door. I speak to Steve and he will not argue with me. Let him try. I will be there soon. You go now."

Hannah glanced at Kay, then at her feet as she thought over the suggestion. Finally she gave Kay's hand a squeeze.

"Thanks Kay. You're a brick."

In normal circumstances she would never do this, but this was not normal. 'Fuck Steve' she thought, as she padded across the saloon and let herself into Kay's cabin.

* * * * *

Hannah kicked off her boots and sat on the edge of Kay's bunk, straining her ears for any words she might catch through the closed door.

She could hear Kay's raised voice, sharp and agitated but couldn't make out what she was saying. The next thing she knew, the door opened just enough for Kay to slip through. She looked back into the saloon, but said nothing. She pushed the door closed with her bottom. Hannah could see tears in Kay's eyes, and for a change it was Hannah who comforted the other woman, pulling her down to sit on her lap.

Hannah kissed her hair and rocked Kay in her arms until finally she spoke in a gentle tone. "Come on, Kay. We're both tired and this last hour has been horrible. We should try to sleep."

They both stood to remove their heavy sailing clothes but there was no room. They laughed awkwardly at their predicament. Kay sat back to give Hannah space.

"You first."

As Hannah balanced to kick off her salopettes from her base layer underneath, Kay remarked in surprise. "Ty nie masz kutas! Sorry, Hans, but you have no... no willy Johnson?"

Hannah was caught off guard by Kay's innocent observation and chuckled in response. Hannah pulled out the waistband of her leggings and peered down.

"No. No willy Johnson here, Kay. You're quite safe." Hannah smiled.

"I did not think it, that you be like me," Kay replied.

Once they had both stripped down to their leggings and snug fitting tops, they pulled the single sleeping bag over them.

"No, no , this is not good, Hannah," Kay fussed. "One will have bottom in, then bottom out and it is too cold. Here, put your feet next to mine."

The two began to giggle at the ridiculousness of their situation, but managed to put both pairs of feet into the bottom of the bag.

"Now we must be like fingers to pray -- yes, with our legs like this." Kay spoke as if to a child and Hannah was happy to comply. Kay pushed her thigh between Hannah's so they were able to pull their bodies close and tuck the hem of the bag around them.

"When I was a little girl in Poland, I shared my bed with my sister like this. So this is quite OK to me," Kay said. "Shall I make the prayer to God we used to say? I was Catholic then, but not anymore. God does not like woman like me."

"I'd like that," Hannah spoke softly with closed eyes, her face almost touching Kay's. "A little prayer."

Kay recited the prayer and though Hannah didn't understand the words, she recognised the sing-song tones that children use in every language. At the end of the prayer, Kay kissed Hannah's smiling lips.

Hannah opened her eyes in surprise, but Kay's eyes were closed. She moved her arm to slide it to a more comfortable place at Kay's waist.

Kay opened her eyes, but Hannah's were now closed. Kay continued to look for a long time and watched her breathe, saw the tiny blue lines at the corners of her eyelids, the tiny dark quills of her eyebrows and a little scar on her forehead.

She hoped day, she could ask why Hannah had the scar and to share more of this woman's life, but right now the last thing Hannah needed from her was more complication. She wondered if Hannah knew of her feeling towards her but doubted she'd noticed, given how busy and now traumatised she was.