Colin Cotterill - Grandad, Thereэ's head on the beach

"What is it?" he said. His voice sounded like rust deep in the back of the phone.

"Where are you?" I shouted.

"Nam Jeud," he said.

"It's started. I know it's short notice, but did you get in touch with anyone?"

"Ha! Started, has it? I haven't got through to everyone yet. I focused on boats around Sawee, like we agreed. My brother's up there."

"Are there any boats out at the moment?"

"This time of day? Not many. Only the squid trapmen checking their traps."

"Are they on walkie-talkie?"

"Normally they wouldn't need to be. They only use the wireless at night to tell each other where the shoals are. The trappers have permanent spots, but the transient boats have to follow the squid."

"But?"

"But, well, there's the karaoke."

"The karaoke?"

"The nights can be a bit long and boring, waiting for squid. And a lot of fisherfolk like to sing. So about a year back we started entertaining each other by crooning over the short wave. And someone came up with the idea of bringing along tape players and singing along with the music. So they-"

"Kow! We've got seventeen people about to be beheaded. Is there a short version of this?"

"Sorry. Almost done. So, every night you'd take your turn to sing. And the M-150 energy-drink people heard about it, and they launched a CB transceiver karaoke competition with cash prizes. The competition's next week and everyone's rehearsing. Night or day we have our channels open. Sing a bit. Get feedback from your mates."

"So what you're telling me is that the trap setters are on air."

"You could say. Them and the night boats."

"Can you contact them?"

"My brother Daengmo can."

Daengmo? Now, why did that name ring a bell?

"All right," I said. "Ask them if anyone saw a small boat leave Sawee before midday. It might be called Amor. At least that's what's written in English…or French. There were seventeen Burmese on board. You can't hide seventeen people in a small boat, so someone must have noticed it. We need to know what direction it was headed. And someone has to get after it."

"I'm on my way," he said.

"Where to?"

"If I can get the headings from Daengmo and the karaoke crowd, I can set a heading to intersect with it. It's all in the angles."

"Are you alone?"

"Yes."

"You have to be careful with these people. How far out before you lose this cell-phone signal?"

"About thirty kilometers unless I'm heading toward the islands."

"Then how do we keep in touch?"

"I'll give you Daengmo's number. I'll use the wireless transmitter. You'll be able to get the bearings from him."

"Kow?"

"Yeah?"

"I'll never forget this."

"I really can't tell you how much of a pleasure it is."

"We'll have reinforcements out there soon. Don't do anything stupid."

"Aye aye."

They really said "aye aye"?

When I went to join Mair in the shop, Captain Waew was just pulling out, with the Noys lying down in the bed of the truck. The co-op ladies were up front. Elain was on a rope on the flatbed. Mair was alone, waving to the monkey.

"Where are all the other ladies?" I asked.

"I sent them home," she said. "I sense danger. Your policeman said he'd call you later. I phoned Arny and told him to come home."

"Arny? Great! Who else would you phone in times of danger?"

"Don't make fun of your brother. He'll be there for you when you need him."

"And where's Grandad?"

"Last time I saw him he was rearranging the flotsam on the beach."

"Why…?"

An engine was gunned; I imagined wheels spinning. We ran down and looked along the beach. The tide was low but still only six meters from the cabins. Grandad Jah had laid out a long bridge of bamboo down the sand to the water's edge. It seemed rather pointless, considering the incoming tide would wash it all away before…

A roaring Honda City leaped from the carport, gained traction from the bamboo, and sped off over the bridge and into the water. I saw the grinning flash of Grandad's face as it vanished behind the splash. It had traveled fifteen meters at speed before the wheels began to spin in the sand and the Honda came to a standstill. Only the roof was visible above the waves. I raced into the surf, dismissing my water phobia as trivial compared to the love of my grandfather. But as the water began to crash against my waist, the fear waxed and the love waned. By the time I reached the Honda and the current was forcing me back it, occurred to me that I'd never really been that fond of him. Even so, some insanity saw me pinching my nose with my fingers and ducking my head beneath the surface. I opened my eyes and a stinging wash of salt filled them with pain. Everything was blurry. I pushed my head in through the open window. The cab was empty.

I burst, spluttering, into the atmosphere and looked around me for the floating corpse of my beloved relative. He was standing beside Mair on the beach, the bastard. I was furious. I wanted to stomp back to him, but the water was buffeting me around like laundry. By the time I washed up on the beach, I was out of breath and out of ire.

"What," I huffed, "was that all about?"

He came over to my supine body and crouched down in one of those impossible country squats.

"I've had an idea," he said.

"Please share it."

"Well, in an hour or so the tide will be fully up and the car will be invisible from the beach. We have the phone number of the Special Branch fellow. So, we give him a call and tell him the car's gone. We hint that the Noys came back and drove it off. And they'll spend the rest of the day, perhaps even the rest of the week, scouring the country for this car. We'll be out of the loop."

"And what happens if they come back at low tide when the car's visible?"

"We can drape it with weed and make it look like something being washed up."

"And what about you-an ex-mechanic-telling them the pistons are seized up?"

"A miracle. The floodwater from the river rinsed out all the salt and the thing started working."

It didn't sound at all plausible, but Grandad Jah had that senile look so they'd probably put it down to dementia. And it was good to get one emergency off the front burner for a while.

"OK," I said. "Crazy but acceptable."

While I was telling them about the Burmese in Sawee, Arny and Gaew pulled up on her Harley, so I had to start all over again. When Ex-Police Captain Waew returned from concealing the Noys, I had to tell him too. After three times of telling it didn't sound any more hopeful.

"So what are we supposed to do?" asked Grandad.

"I have a plan," I said, and told him about Captain Kow and the small-boat squid men.

"That good-for-nothing wastrel couldn't organize fluff in a belly button," said Grandad. "I'm not putting my life in his hands."

"All right, stop it. Stop it now," said Mair. "I've just about had enough of you insulting Kow. Either you button your lip or I'll punch it."

She looked furious, and I'd never seen my grandfather back down to her like he did at that moment, but I could sense some friction between father and daughter. There was too much going on around us to follow up on it, but I put a mental yellow Post-it sticker against that moment.

Gaew it was who brought us all back to practicalities.

"We need a boat," she said.

"That's right," said Mair, still glaring at Grandad. "We do."

A boat. Right. It was the one aspect of this mission that I'd tried to drown in my subconscious. As the leader, I could hardly send them all out into the deep ocean and wave my handkerchief from the quay. But I was petrified by the very thought of having nothing but a wooden plank between me and Davy Jones.

"We've got to get out there as soon as we can and help those poor people," said Arny, pushing his big chest ahead of him.