Майкл Ридпат - The Predator

‘I’m at graduate school at Georgetown. Studying medieval European history. And before you say it, I know that’s not going to save the Third World, either.’

‘You like it, though?’

‘It’s fascinating. It truly is. But it’s one of those infuriating situations: the more I read about it, the less I feel I understand it. We can try to know the world as it was a thousand years ago, but we’ll never quite manage to understand it completely.’

Megan told Chris all about Charlemagne and his court of scholars and sycophants, and he listened. He had studied history himself, but had avoided the Middle Ages as too alien to the world he understood. Megan made it sound real. And Chris just liked to talk to her.

As they approached the mouth of the bay, Eric came up again to take over. He warned everyone that it would get a bit choppy once they were out in the exposed water of the Sound, and it did. The aftermath of the previous night’s storm still disturbed the sea. Eric opened the throttles and the boat speeded up, heading for the lights of Connecticut on the other side of the Sound, lurching up and down in response to the power of the engines and the movement of the waves.

It was now dark, but there were lights in all directions: white, red, green, flashing, constant, moving, still, solitary and in groups. Eric could obviously make sense of them all. The moon was up, three-quarters full, transforming the dull grey of the sea to silver and leaving the shoreline in black silhouette. The odd cloud drifted across, causing a cloak of a deeper darkness to descend fleetingly over the water.

Chris climbed down the steps to the cockpit, where the others were all quite drunk. While he had only got through a single beer since they had set off, Lenka, Duncan, Ian and Alex had downed several margaritas. Although there was plenty of laughter in the air, Chris could feel the tension. It was too loud, the insults that were traded were too direct, there was an hysterical edge to it.

It didn’t take long before it all boiled over.

Inevitably, it was a squabble between Lenka and Duncan that did it. Duncan was looking around him into the darkness. ‘This reminds me a little of Cape Cod, don’t you think, Lenka?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she said, her voice slurred. ‘It’s nothing like Cape Cod.’

‘Yes, it is,’ said Duncan. ‘It’s just like it.’

‘But it’s dark, Duncan. You can’t see anything. And there aren’t really any beaches. And there are all these giant mansions everywhere. Even the sea looks different.’

‘No, no it doesn’t. Remember that place in Chatham we stayed in? That B&B where we lay in bed all Sunday morning just looking out of the window at the sea? You can’t pretend you don’t remember that. You were there, Lenka.’

Lenka exploded. ‘Will you shut up!’ she shouted. ‘It’s over. Don’t you get it, Duncan? It’s over. You can’t keep talking about it as though we’re still together.’

‘But we had a great time that weekend. You can’t wipe that from your memory.’

‘I can and I will!’ said Lenka, a touch of cruelty in her voice.

Duncan just looked at her. Then he grabbed a bottle of beer and crept round the bridge to the foredeck.

‘Careful, Duncan!’ shouted Eric from above. The boat was bucketing around in the waves, and it would have been easy for Duncan to lose his footing.

Ian, Chris, Alex and Lenka all sat in awkward silence in the cockpit. Lenka had gone too far. She probably knew that, but she was defying any of them to say so.

After a minute or so, Chris grabbed a couple of bottles. ‘I’ll take these up for Eric and Megan,’ he said.

‘I’ll come up with you,’ said Ian.

They all crowded on to the bridge. Duncan was sitting on the foredeck in front of them, drinking his beer, staring at the lights of Connecticut, which were getting closer.

‘Duncan and Lenka have a fight?’ asked Eric.

‘Yes,’ said Chris.

‘I could see it coming.’

‘You shouldn’t have invited him,’ said Ian. ‘He was bound to cause trouble.’

‘We had to,’ said Eric. ‘We couldn’t leave him out.’

‘Besides,’ Chris added. ‘It was Lenka who was out of order there. She’s pissed.’

‘So is Alex,’ said Ian. ‘What’s up with him, anyway? He’s been moody ever since the exam.’

‘I don’t know,’ said Eric. ‘His mom, maybe.’

‘Or his job,’ said Chris. ‘Does he know why he wasn’t assigned anything? He did well enough in the exam and I thought the mortgage guys were looking out for him. Do you know why, Eric? Have they just forgotten about him?’

Eric shrugged. ‘He doesn’t know what’s going on. His mother’s not doing very well. I guess it’s all finally gotten to him.’

‘Look,’ said Ian, in an urgent whisper. He was pointing down into the cockpit behind them. Lenka and Alex were locked in a deep alcoholic embrace.

‘Oh, shit,’ said Chris.

They all turned towards Duncan. He had stood up, and was making his way unsteadily aft. He paused, and tossed the empty beer bottle into the sea. He couldn’t yet see what was happening in the cockpit; the bridge was in the way.

‘Lenka!’ shouted Chris.

Lenka didn’t look up, but just raised a single finger.

Chris turned to Duncan. ‘Duncan! Wait!’

Duncan looked up and wobbled as a wave hit the boat, almost falling in. ‘I need another beer!’ he growled, and continued on his way. Then he saw Lenka and Alex. ‘Hey!’ he shouted and scrambled down into the cockpit. ‘Hey!’

He grabbed Lenka’s shoulder and pulled her back, away from Alex.

‘Don’t touch me!’ she cried, pushing him in the chest.

‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’ Duncan shouted, pushing her back.

‘Leave her alone,’ said Alex straightening up. He shoved Duncan away from Lenka.

Duncan took a step back and swung. Alex was too drunk and too slow to react. The blow caught him cleanly on the chin. Alex staggered. Duncan hit him again. This time Alex went crashing back against the railing, just as the boat pitched on a wave. He tipped backwards and disappeared over the side.

Chris found it difficult to piece together exactly what happened next. He could remember Lenka screaming, Duncan staring open-mouthed at the point where Alex had been standing, Eric bounding down from the bridge and diving over the side of the boat.

Then Ian tumbled down after him and threw his own shoes off. ‘Don’t!’ cried Megan as he, too, jumped into the water. The boat was still speeding forward through the waves. Megan, who had been at the wheel, was slow to react, but now cut the throttle. A cloud passed over the moon. Chris could just make out Ian splashing in the water, but there was no sign of the other two.

‘Oh, Jesus,’ said Duncan, as he struggled to take his own shoes off.

‘Stop him!’ shouted Megan. ‘For God’s sake Chris, keep him in the boat!’

Lenka was screaming at Duncan in a mixture of Czech and English. Chris jumped down into the cockpit to try to catch him, but he was too late. ‘I’ve got to get him. I’ve got to get him out,’ mumbled Duncan, as he went over the side.

Lenka threw herself into Chris’s arms, sobbing hysterically. He tried to push her to one side, but she wouldn’t let go of him. So he slapped her hard across the face. She looked at him in shock, and he pushed her down on to a seat in the cockpit.

Megan was turning the boat around. ‘Chris! Come up here!’

Chris scrambled up to the bridge, but even there, several feet higher up, he couldn’t see any of them. Both he and Megan scanned the dark churning water in front of them. Out here, in the middle of the Sound, the wind was stronger. Tufts of spume flashed off the crests of waves, as though a hundred tiny swimmers surrounded the boat. With the moon behind a cloud, it was suddenly very dark. They seemed to be about half way between Long Island and Connecticut, and although they were surrounded by the lights of boats, none was close enough to help.