Run Before the Wind (5 page)

"He is Derek Thrasher," Mark echoed, "and he thinks he might like to sponsor a large effort in the Singlehanded Transatlantic Race."

Annie's face was lit by the broadest of smiles.

"Oh, Mark, that's wonderful! Mr. Thrasher, I can't tell you how delighted I am .. ."

Thrasher held up a perfectly manicured finger.

"It's Derek, please."

"Of course." She began rummaging in the galley icebox and produced a bottle of champagne.

"I've had this on hand just in case."

Mark opened the bottle, and we settled ourselves about the cabin settees. I had obviously stumbled into the middle of a very happy event for all these people. Thrasher and Annie immediately launched into a discussion about boats. I leaned toward Mark and said, "Excuse me, I didn't get your last name."

He flashed a wide smile at me.

"Pemberton-Robinson," he said.

"Robinson will do, Willie, if that's a bit of a mouthful for a Yank."

My anxiety at the news of his name was so keen that I didn't bother to correct him on either my name or regional loyalties.

"Ah . you and Annie are .. . ?" Brother and sister, I said directly to God. Please let them be brother and sister.

"Man and wife, old chap." He grinned. There was sympathy in his voice.

"Sorry."

"YOU MISSED ALL THE excitement," Mark said to Annie.

"Derek's boat lost her anchor and bloody nearly went into the Royal Yacht."

I turned to Thrasher.

"Was that your boat?"

He nodded ruefully.

"I'm afraid so."

I felt a rush of anger.

"Well, for Christ's sake .. ."

"And this.. .." Annie interrupted, pointing to me, "is the fellow who rescued it."

"Really?" Thrasher exclaimed, "I certainly want to----" "What sort of ground tackle did you have out, anyway?" I persisted, hotly. Now I had the bastard at hand whose negligence had caused all this bother, and I fairly flew at him.

"Do you have any idea of the damage that could have caused?"

"Of course," he said placatingly.

"It certainly could have been much worse, I know. We had out a forty-five-pound Danforth anchor, four fathoms of half-inch chain, and thirty fathoms of two-inch warp in seven fathoms of water."

"That should have held in anything but a hurricane," Mark chimed in, "but you should have seen the anchor line; sawn right through."

"You mean somebody cut it deliberately?" I asked.

"Oh, I think it's more likely that we anchored over some sort of underwater obstruction that chafed through the line," Thrasher said.

"Some old piece of iron, I should think." He didn't sound very convincing.

"Looked cut to me," Mark said firmly.

"Shitty thing to do to somebody."

"If there'd been a second anchor aboard I could have got that out right away," I persisted, still annoyed.

"The second anchor was in the forepeak, ready for use," Thrasher said reasonably.

"But of course, the boat was locked, and you couldn't get to it. I really do apologize for your having to deal with it all, and I really am most grateful to you for what you did.

I saw the whole thing from the upper deck at the Royal London.

It was a very brave thing to do, jumping like that."

"Well," I said, cooling off a bit with the praise, "there didn't seem to be anything else to do."

"I would have thanked you immediately, but I didn't recognize you. You were some distance out and seemed to be dressed differently."

Annie broke in again.

"I'm afraid, Derek, that you owe Willie a bit more than your thanks in this case. While he was out rescuing your yacht, all his belongings were stolen."

"Dear God!" Thrasher came back.

"I hope there was nothing I can't replace."

"Oh, no," I said, waving a hand, "just clothes and stuff; I had my money and passport in my pocket."

"Both of which are a bit damp," Annie laughed.

"Willie took a spill into the river. That's why he's wearing your clothes. Mark."

"And welcome to them," Mark laughed, clapping me on the back.

We drank the first bottle of champagne, then another, and talked into the early afternoon. Mark and Derek Thrasher talked, at least, while Annie mostly listened and occasionally made a remark. She was very polite to Thrasher but somehow cool. I sat and watched and listened and gazed at Annie Robinson.

Thrasher looked at his watch.

"Why don't you all join me for some lunch ashore, and then we'll see about getting Will some clothes of his own."

I began to beg off, not wanting to intrude, but Annie pressed me into the company. As we left the marina and started up the High Street I noticed a man who seemed to be keeping pace with us, stopping when we stopped, watching us closely. I noticed him because he seemed so out of place in Cowes. He was big, built like a linebacker on an American football team, and encased in a tight-fitting, three-piece, blue suit. He was wearing the only necktie in sight. He seemed quite tense.

We found a little restaurant in the High Street, ordered, and Mark and Thrasher were soon into a discussion about boats.

"What's this race you're doing?" I asked Mark.

"It's a singlehanded race across the Atlantic. Held every four years. I did it last time on the boat you were just on."

"And you're sponsoring a new effort?" I asked Thrasher.

"I am indeed, but not out of philanthropy, I assure you. I want the boat when Mark's done with it."

"What would you like to name her, Derek?" Mark asked.

"Oh, name her anything you like. I'll change it when I take her over."

Mark looked surprised.

"Don't you want a company name on her? Something you can advertise? Surely, that's a major benefit of sponsorship."

Thrasher shook his head.

"As I said, it's the boat I want. The last thing I want is publicity, believe me. That's why I'll change the name when you're through with her." He leaned forward and spoke earnestly.

"Mark, you must understand that I do not want my name attached to this project in any way. I prefer doing things quietly, and as far as your boatyard or anyone else is concerned, you are building your own boat, not mine. Can we agree on that?"

"Of course," Mark replied.

"If it's just a boat you want, why not just buy one or build a custom design?" I asked.

He shook his head again.

"I want a very special son of boat," he said emphatically.

"I want something that I can take two or three couples on in comfort, but something that can be easily handled by one man, or a couple, and that's just not available in a stock boat. Take the boat you so kindly rescued today: she's only forty-two feet long, but it takes three people to sail her properly with no self-steering and a conventional deck layout. I want a boat of sixty feet, and that would ordinarily mean having a professional crew, which I most definitely do not want. Mark, here, already has a design of that size developed, with every possible innovation for singlehanded sailing included, and with a bit more luxury built in than he'd planned, she's just what I want." He took a sip of his wine.

"Oh, I could have something designed and built, of course, but, what with the demands of business, I just don't have the time to work with a designer and supervise a boatyard and keep an eye on costs. Mark, on the other hand, will do nothing else, and when he finishes I believe I'll have the finest cruising yacht of her size afloat."

Mark and Thrasher began a discussion of equipment, and Annie turned her attention to me.

"Who are you, Willie Lee," she asked.

"What brings you to Cowes?"

I told my story, probably with too much detail. She had a faculty of total concentration in a conversation, causing me to feel that what I had to say was not only relevant and important, but fascinating.

I glanced at Mark. He seemed capable of doing anything. His hard hands looked out of place on the white tablecloth.

"Mark's been looking for a sponsor for two years," she said.

"It's been difficult, but now he has what he needs to build the best possible boat for the race." She looked at him and smiled.

"He's very happy. I'm happy for him." Her face brightened.

"Oh, we'll be neighbors of your grandfather in Ireland," she said.

"The boat is being built there. You must come and see us."

"I'd planned to buy a car in Prance and see the continent for a few months."

Thrasher left the table for a moment, and Mark turned to me.

"Do you sail?"

"Yes."

"How much experience have you had?"

"Well, there's a sailing camp on the North Carolina coast; I went there every summer as a kid, then, when I was in college, I went back as an instructor."

"What sons of boats?"

"Everything from dinghies to cruising boats of about thirty-five feet. The camp has quite a fleet. The last couple of years I took the older kids cruising, taught them a little coastal navigation, sail handling, anchoring, seamanship, the usual stuff."

"You must come and sail with us on Toscana," Annie said, "and on the new boat, when it's finished."

"You say you're going to France?"

"Yes, tomorrow, on a ferry from Southampton."

"I've got a better idea. We're sailing for Ireland tomorrow, why don't you come and sail down the Channel as far as Plymouth with us? There's a ferry from there to Prance. Annie's always a bit under the weather the first day out, and we could use an extra hand.

You'd get a good look at the English Channel, with a night passage thrown in, and you'll only be a day or two. late getting to France."

I did not hesitate even for a moment.

"I'd love it," I said.

"It's settled then," said Annie.

"We're sailing just before dawn tomorrow, to catch the tide in the Solent."

Thrasher returned to the table.

"I'm afraid I must be off. Perry to catch, and we still have to get Will some new gear."

As we left the restaurant and strolled down Cowes High Street we seemed to be watched from across the street by yet another man,

this one tall, skinny, with greasy black hair and bottle-thick glasses.

The earlier heavy was nowhere in sight. I would have thought myself imagining it all, except when Thrasher came out of the restaurant, last, the man quickly turned away and pretended to look in a shop window. Thrasher didn't seem to notice; he fell in beside me.

"You're from Georgia, you say."

"Yes." I was surprised he'd picked up on that while talking so intently with Mark.

"Would you be related to the Lee who was governor a while back?"

"He's my father. I'm surprised you know about him."

"I try to keep up. There were those murders, too. That got considerable attention in the British press. They're fond of that sort of thing."

At the time my father was running for governor it had been discovered that an old man in Delano had murdered more than forty teenaged boys over as many years. It had made nationwide headlines at the time and had even helped my father's political career, since he had been instrumental in hiring the chief of police who had discovered and solved the crime.

"Folks in Delano are still trying to forget about that."

He nodded.

"Do you have any career plans, now?"

"No, I just want to travel for a while. I might go back to law school, I just don't know yet."

"There's a lot of opportunity on this side of the water, you know. My business has reached a size where we're always looking for bright young fellows to join us and be trained for a career."

"What son of career? What business are you in?" I knew it had to be pretty big if he were giving Mark Robinson the money to build a sixty-foot, state-of-the-art boat.

"Oh, a bit of this and that; property, construction, investments of various sorts. We've just bought a chain of fancy hairdressers, for instance."

"Hairdressers? Beauty parlors? I wouldn't have thought there'd be much money in that."

"You'd be surprised. All the shops are in top hotels and department stores, and they produce a lot of cash flow which we're investing all over Europe in property, holiday condominiums, all sorts of things. We're even dabbling in films." He stopped in front of a shop bearing' the legend, "Morgan & Sons--Yachting Tailors."

"I'll leave you here," he said.

"They'll have pretty much anything you need, and I've already instructed them to charge everything to my account." He held up a hand at my protest.

"Please, it's the very least I can do after what you've done for me today. I'm glad you're getting a sail with Mark and Annie. When you're next in London come and have some lunch. We'll talk more."