Fern Britton - A Good Catch

On one particular warm August night, Edward and Jesse were in their usual seats in the galley, having had a supper of poached cod and bacon with new potatoes coated in bacon fat. Edward was drinking a large mug of powerfully strong tea.

‘I’m reckoning we aim for Tring Fallows. Word is they’m the best fishing grounds just now.’ He tapped the chart, then leant back to stretch tension out of his lower back.

Jesse remained hunched over the charts, studying the distance between where they were now and where they were going. ‘How long will it take to get there?’

‘Should be there in about four hours.’

Jesse glanced at the time. ‘I’m on watch at midnight.’

‘I recommend you get some shuteye now then,’ his father said.

Jesse heaved himself a little off the leatherette bench seat and craned his head to see out of the starboard porthole. ‘ Our Mermaid is still with us. She coming to Tring Fallows too?’

‘Aye. We’ll need both of us to haul the buggers in. This’ll be a good catch if we get it right.’

The ship’s radio came to life and the familiar voice of Alfie Chandler, Mickey’s dad, spoke.

‘ Lobster Pot , Lobster Pot , Lobster Pot . This is Mermaid . Over.’

Edward unhooked the small receiver/mouthpiece from the radio set and put his thumb on the talk button.

‘ Mermaid . This is Lobster Pot . Wass on? Over.’

‘ Mermaid, Lobster Pot . We still headin’ for Tring Fallows? Over.’

‘ Lobster Pot, Mermaid . Can you switch to channel nine? Over.’

Edward waited a minute for Alfie to swap to a channel that they could use just between themselves.

‘ Lobster Pot, Mermaid . Over.’

‘Yeah, Alfie. Tring Fallows it is.’

Jesse, desperate to talk to his mate Mickey, held his hand out to his father, opening and closing his fingers in the universal code for ‘hand it over.’ Edward kept talking. ‘Is your Mickey there, Alf? Only ’is mate wants to ’ave a word.’

‘I’ll get ’im.’ They heard Alfie shout for his son as Edward passed the mouthpiece to Jesse.

Mickey’s voice came over the airwaves. ‘’Ello?’

‘Mickey, ’tis Jesse. You sleepin’ before we get to the fishin’ ground, or no?’

‘Gonna have a snout up top then I’m going to grab some zeds. You?’

‘Same. Give us a minute and I’ll be out too.’

Edward reached forward and snatched the radio from Jesse. ‘That’s enough. It ain’t for you two to make your social engagements on.’ He pressed the talk button. ‘Mickey, you still there, you great long streak of piss?’

‘Yes, Mr Behenna,’ came Mickey’s nervous voice.

‘Well fuck off and ’and me back to your dad.’

On deck the moon, although not full, was bright; its face looked down at the two trawlers as they slipped through the benign waves. Jesse, now standing in the stern of the boat, put his face to the cool wind and closed his eyes. He felt secure and peaceful. He was increasingly realising that the sea was his home; as long as he had it in his life, he knew all would be well.

Looking to starboard, and travelling at the same speed, was Our Mermaid . Jesse listened to the thrum of the engines together with the swish of the wash that they churned behind them. He could make out the tall, thin silhouette of Mickey appearing from a hatch and sparking up a cigarette.

‘Hey, Mickey,’ Jesse called over to him.

‘Hey, Jess,’ called back Mickey.

‘Can you think of anywhere else you’d rather be?’ Jesse asked his friend.

‘Inside Loveday’s knickers?’ answered Mickey truthfully.

Jesse frowned at Mickey, knowing that – at this distance and in the dark – Mickey wouldn’t be able to read his face. He didn’t like Mickey talking about Loveday like that.

Loveday was under Jesse’s skin. He’d known her since … well, forever. And he hated to hear Mickey discuss her in such crude terms. He felt protective towards Loveday. He wanted to look after her and treat her well. He felt something that he couldn’t describe; something, maybe, close to love? He pulled himself up. Love? No, not love. Not for Loveday. Loveday was Mickey’s and he’d never hurt Mickey. He was like a brother to her. He just liked her. A lot. That was all. God, no, he didn’t love her. He was going to see the world. Not settle down with the first girl he’d ever known, right here on his doorstep. Bugger that.

‘Where would you rather be then, Jesse?’ asked Mickey, sucking on his cigarette and exhaling a long plume of smoke to trail behind him.

‘I told you. Nowhere other than here.’ There was a splash behind him. He turned and shouted, ‘Look, Mick. Dolphins!’ And, sure enough, in the wake between the boats, two dolphins slipped out of the water in perfect arcs, the moonlight glistening on their skins.

‘There’s two more!’ shouted Mickey. He bent down to the open hatch on the deck and shouted, ‘Dad. Come up. Dolphins.’

Any crew member on both boats who wasn’t already sleeping, or didn’t have a drop of romance in his soul, came on deck to watch the display that the dolphins put on for them. They counted up to fifteen, although it was hard to tell if some had been counted twice. Both Alfie and Edward cut their engines and, for maybe five or ten minutes, fisherman and dolphin enjoyed each other’s company. Finally the creatures slid beneath the waves and disappeared.

A thought dawned on Edward.

‘The little fuckers’ll have our catch if we don’t get a move on.’ He moved quickly towards the wheelhouse. ‘Full steam ahead, lads.’

Jesse was nudged awake at just before midnight. He’d been dreaming of swimming with the dolphins. One of them was swimming alongside him and he reached out to stroke its side. The dolphin turned to look at him and smiled. The smile grew wider and more familiar and Jesse became aware that this was not a dolphin but Loveday. Her red hair was streaming behind her as she swam above and below him, twisting and looping in the simple joy of being with him. Streams of air bubbles danced from her as she swam, always just a little bit faster and a little bit further out of reach. ‘Come on, Jesse. Come on,’ she spoke from beneath the waves, smiling up at him. ‘Come on. Before you lose me.’

‘Wake up, mate. It’s your watch. Come on. Get up.’ Jesse opened his eyes and slowly became aware of the familiar heat and smell of the The Lobster Pot ’s cramped cabin. The tired face of Aaron, who’d just finished the first watch, loomed over Jesse’s bunk. ‘Wake up, you bugger. I need some kip before we start the trawl. Get out and let me in.’ Jesse flipped back the blankets, lifted his head from the pillow and swung his legs onto the floor. Apart from taking off his boots, he hadn’t bothered to get undressed before he slept so, apart from a quick rub of his eyes, there was no time wasted. Aaron was already crawling into the warm bunk and gave Jesse a shove as he reached for the blankets. ‘Get out and let me ’ave me beauty sleep.’

‘And what time would Sir like his wake-up call?’ a yawning Jesse asked sarcastically.

‘Bugger off.’

‘As Sir wishes.’ Jesse bent down and whispered in Aaron’s ear, ‘Would Sir like a goodnight kiss?’ Aaron produced a two-fingered salute and turned over. He was already asleep by the time Jesse closed the door.

Jesse reported to his father in the wheelhouse. ‘Any news?’ he asked him.

‘Aaron spotted some boats off to starboard about half a kilometre away. Spanish, by looks of it.’

‘Shit.’

‘Aye. Seeing more and more of ’em out here. Bastards are depleting our stocks and using up the quotas. Go and make us a brew, will you?’