A Liverpool Legacy Read Free Page A

off, but suddenly it shifted direction, the boat shuddered and the boom thundered across with its heavy sail. The bangs, cracks and creaks from the mast sounded even more sinister.
    ‘Mum, don’t leave me,’ Sylvie screamed, lifting her head from the bunk.
    ‘No, love, I won’t,’ she said as calmly as she could. ‘There’s nothing wrong.’ Her daughter’s face was paper-white. ‘Are you feeling seasick?’
    ‘No,’ Sylvie said and staggered to join her at the cabin door. She was shaking.
    ‘We’ll be all right, love,’ Millie told her, giving her a hug. ‘Try to relax.’
    ‘What’s making that noise? It sounds as though the boat’s breaking up.’
    That was exactly what it did sound like but it wouldn’t help Sylvie if she admitted it. ‘No, the Sprite is solidly built. You know it is.’
    She saw then that Pete was beckoning to her. ‘I’m going to see what Dad wants. You stay here where it’s safe.’ She ducked low and moved to sit on the seat that ran along the side of the boat, slithering along towards him. As soon as she left the shelter of the cabin the wind buffeted her and tore at her hair.
    Pete put a hand on her arm but his eyes didn’t lift from the sea. The next wave, a beautiful deep green cliff, was rearing up in front of them. Millie held on until they were over it and it was breaking up all around them in huge torrents of white foam.
    He put his head down close to hers so she could hear him. ‘It wasn’t as big as the last,’ he said. ‘I’m worried about the mast, it’s never made noises like this before. There it goes again, almost like a gunshot. This wind could break it off.’ Millie felt a stab of sheer terror as he went on. ‘I want the mainsail down, it’s wet now and the weight is making things worse. We don’t need it anyway and the boat would be easier to control if we weren’t going so fast.’
    ‘You want me to put it down?’ Millie closed her eyes and shuddered. She’d acted as crew for Pete on other holiday trips and knew what had to be done, but today the Sprite was tossing about so much she could hardly stand up against the force of the gale.
    Pete said, ‘I’ll do it if you like. This wind is gusting. Every so often it gives an extra powerful blast from a different quarter and that puts more pressure on the mast.’
    Millie was watching the mast in awful fascination. ‘It’s doing it again,’ she screeched, grabbing for his arm. The sail slackened for a moment as the wind turned and when the powerful blast hit it, the boom flew across as though propelled by an engine. All the time, the mast was protesting with creaks as loud as pistol shots and the yacht heeled over in an additional burst of speed.
    ‘Oh my God!’ Millie breathed as she hung on for dear life.
    Pete’s voice was in her ear. ‘If I collapse the sail you’ll have to hold the tiller.’
    She felt another stab of fear. She’d steered the boat many times but never in conditions like these.
    ‘Keep it on this course unless you see a big wave coming at you from a different quarter. If you do, aim the bow straight into it. That’s the important thing. If the wind gusts and changes again, you could find it pulls you broadside on but you must keep the bow heading straight into the waves.’
    ‘Yes, I know.’
    ‘It’s better now we’re away from the island.’
    ‘Right,’ she said, and moved to take his position in the stern. ‘Be careful.’
    Sylvie was still watching them from the cabin door. He grinned and said, ‘Aren’t I always?’
    The tiller felt like a wild thing, it wasn’t easy to keep the boat on course. Millie only dared take quick glances to see what Pete was doing. He looked quite stiff, poor dear.
    Then she realised the wind was gusting again. It took all her strength to hang on to the tiller and keep the boat straight. She heard the mast protest ominously yet again and felt the slight lull followed immediately by the boom beginning to swing. ‘Going