DAVID J CHRISTOPHER - WHAT GOES AROUND

"So Sherlock, what's the plan?" asks Lucy. "How are we going to find this Winston Churchill? By the way, I googled him last night. He's dead."

"Yes, I heard something to that effect on the wireless." I say.

"On the what? Why don't you speak English?"

"I had sort of worked out that it was more than a little unlikely that Helen planned to meet up with the war time Prime Minister of Great Britain."

They say that sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, I'm not so sure.

"By the way, what's google?" I do my best to keep a straight face but fail.

Lucy punches my arm gently in rebuke.

"So, if it's not THE Winston Churchill that Helen was due to meet, then it must be a name sake or a nickname." Lucy makes a fair point.

"I thought it might make sense to go onto the town quay at Preveza. We can go to a few cafes and ask whether anyone knows anything about this Churchill. Perhaps it's not a person at all, but a club or a bar or something."

"I've got a photograph of Helen on my phone, so we could show that to people as well," suggests Lucy.

She taps a couple of times on her phone before holding it out to me to inspect. I back away trying to focus my eyes on the image. When they do, I see that it's a snapshot of Helen, probably taken by Lucy at one of their lunches. I had always thought of Helen as a pretty normal sort of person. Nice enough without being friendly. Attractive enough without being pretty. Now I'm reminded that she is always very smartly turned out. As I study the photo, I realise something I've never noticed before. She's dripping with jewellery as the saying goes. Even though it's only a lunch time date with Lucy, Helen is wearing diamond earrings. On many of her fingers she has chunky rings some with stones, some could be pure gold. Around her neck she's wearing a thin gold necklace, possibly encrusted with precious stones too. I'm looking at something significant here. I just can't work out what it is.

"I'd never noticed quite how bejewelled our Helen is," I say.

"Oh yeah. She loves her jewellery alright. Told me once it's better than having cash in the bank. What if someone's holding her until she hands over the contents of her safe," suggests Lucy.

"What safe?" I enquire. There's so much about Helen that I don't know. I can keep all my valuables in hardback book with cut out pages. The thought that someone might need a safe around these parts blows my mind.

"She mentioned to me once that she had one in the house. She never told me where. Not only that but a panic room too."

"Panic room? You mean like a room you can hide in?"

"Yep that's it, pretty cool. One day, when I build my house, I'm going to have one too."

"Why?"

"In case of panic of course."

"Show me that photo again will you?" I ask. Lucy passes her phone to me.

"Can you make the picture bigger?"

"No, but I can zoom in."

I focus on the necklace around her neck and peer closely at it. "Now that," I say without taking my eyes off the necklace, "is very strange."

"Right, I'm off for a nap, I'm still feeling a bit under par, you're in charge," I tell Lucy. I hand her back her phone.

"You are joking, right? I've never sailed a boat before in my life," she says.

"Not much chance of sailing with this light wind," I reply, looking skyward, "we'll be motoring most of the way, at least until the other side of Lefkas. Nothing to it, anyway it will be good practice for that new RIB I hear you're getting. Just keep the boat pointing in that direction and we'll be fine." I point to the front of the boat which is facing Lefkas canal about ten miles to our north. "You see where the channel starts to narrow? Well give me a shout when we get there or if we start sinking. We are hurtling along at about four knots, so it won't be anytime soon."

"OK, your boat, your risk," she replies. "I just need to powder my nose though. Then you can catch up on your much-needed beauty sleep." She goes down below. After a couple of minutes she calls out. "So how do I flush this thing?" I tell her how to pump out the toilet and a few moments later she's back.

"Everything OK?"

"All good," she says. "By the way I've left an air freshener down there. It should help."

I'm a little stung by her critique of my earlier cleaning but don't give her the satisfaction of seeing that.

"Lovely," I say. "All yours." I gesture towards the wheel.

Downstairs is a little foggy. There is a slight breeze coming through the open hatch but not enough to blow away the perfume of a few weeks living in confined quarters. I close my close my eyes and allow the gentle rocking to lull me off to sleep.

When I wake, I feel considerably better than I had earlier. I even feel a little hungry. Definitely, I'm in need of a coffee. I check my Rolex. A couple of hours have passed since I left Lucy on deck. I light the burner in the galley and heat up some water for coffee.

"No mishaps?" I ask Lucy, as I rejoin her in the brilliant sunshine. "I've brought coffee. Sorry it's only Nescafe."

"Aha, it lives," she says by way of reply. "Thank goodness. I'm starving. I was beginning to think you'd died."

"I'm a little peckish too," I admit. "We have a choice. Either we can raid the shopping bag and see what we can knock up, or we can stop in Lefkas town and grab a gyro." I check my watch again. "The next bridge opening is in about twenty minutes. We'll never make that one so we've got over two hours to kill until we can get through."

I know that Lucy is not big on cooking, I'm certainly no Jamie Whatsisname. Anyway, I'm guessing that the provisions she bought are more in the line of biscuits than ingredients for anything substantial. I think gyros is a safer option.

"Sounds like a plan," she says. "Fancy a biscuit in the meantime?"

Half an hour later, the channel between the mainland and Lefkas has narrowed right down and we are in the canal. The seabed sits deep enough in the middle but very shallow either side. I take the helm from Lucy. She's been spooked by a couple of very large Italian registered superyachts that squeeze through here to save fuel and avoid the longer trip around the outside of the island. One overtook us so close that we could have shared the spaghetti with the boisterous oversized family dining on the poop deck. The other didn't seem to spot us at all as it steamed towards us, Lucy took evasive action just in time, but Achilles was left rolling violently from side to side by the wash.

"Arseholes," shouted Lucy as the motor charged away to the south. Two tanned dark-haired males waved back at her from the flybridge. "Handsome though and speaking of handsome, I met Henri earlier this morning. He was out jogging."

"Henri?"

"You know, the new barman at Antoinette's place," she reminds me. "He's got muscles just where you want them if you know what I mean."

I don't, but I say nothing.

"He's says he's going to be here all summer. Mind you that's if he can stand Antoinette for that long. He invited me to go running with him. I think it could be the start of a beautiful relationship. Our children would be stunning."

"As long as you're not rushing things then." I say. "Where's he from?"

"No idea. France, I guess from his lush accent. I think he's got it all, the looks, the physique, the voice. I may be in love."

"Again?," I say, "what happened to the last one. Andreas. The policeman. I thought he was the answer to your prayers, your dream guy."

"In the end we just weren't compatible," she says dropping the subject.

As we've been chatting, we've passed the seagull covered rubbish dump, and the massive Lefkas Marina. I turn the boat in towards the town quay, a popular spot.

"Shout if you see a space," I say.

We are lucky. We find somewhere and reverse in between a couple of ugly catamarans, on charter judging by the number of inflatables and people in matching white t-shirts. I throw the ropes to a friendly woman walking along the quayside and fetch the piece of wood that passes as my gangplank from the side of the boat.