Джеффри Арчер - And Thereby Hangs a Tale

The man looked up and gave the stranger who had dared to interrupt his game an unwelcoming gaze.

‘Are you Captain Campbell?’ Percy enquired.

‘Who wants tae ken?’ asked the bearded man suspiciously.

‘My name is Forsdyke,’ said Percy, and then, to the astonishment of everyone in the pub, delivered a short, well-rehearsed speech at the top of his voice.

When Percy came to the end, the bearded man placed his double four reluctantly back on the table and, in a brogue that Percy could just about decipher, asked, ‘An wur exactly dae ye expect mi tae tak’ ye?’

Percy opened his map and spread it out on the table, propelling dominoes in every direction. He then placed a finger in the middle of the North Sea. Four pairs of eyes looked down in disbelief. The captain shook his head, repeating the words ‘Nae possible’ several times, until Percy mentioned the figure of five hundred pounds. All four of the men seated around the table suddenly took a far greater interest in the Englishman’s preposterous proposal. Captain Campbell then began a conversation with his colleagues that no one south of Inverness would have been able to follow without a translator. He finally looked up and said, ‘Ah want a hundred pound up front, noo, an’ the ether four hundred afore ah let ye oan ma boat.’

Percy extracted five twenty-pound notes from his wallet and handed them across to the captain, who smiled for the first time since they’d met. ‘Bi stannin’ on the dockside ae Bonnie Belle at five tamorra moarnin’,’ said Campbell as he distributed the cash among his mates. ‘Once I have the ether four hundred, I’ll tak’ ye to your island.’

Percy was standing on the quayside long before five the following morning, an overnight bag, his battered old school trunk and a ten-foot pole at his feet. He was dressed in a three-piece suit, white shirt, his old school tie, and was carrying a rolled umbrella. Standard FCO kit when one is posted to some foreign field. He braced himself against the biting wind as he waited for the captain to appear. He felt both exhilarated and terrified at the same time.

He turned his attention to the little fishing vessel he’d chartered for this expedition, and wondered if it had ever ventured outside territorial waters, let alone into the middle of the North Sea. For a moment he considered returning to his hotel and abandoning the whole exercise, but the vision of his father and grandfather standing on the dock beside him strengthened his resolve.

The captain and his three mates appeared out of the early morning mist at one minute to five. All four of them were dressed in exactly the same clothes they had been wearing the night before, making Percy wonder if they’d come straight from the Fisherman’s Arms. Was it a seafarer’s gait they displayed as they strolled towards him, or had they spent his hundred pounds on what the Scots are most celebrated for?

The captain gave Percy a mock salute, and thrust out his hand. Percy was about to shake it, when he realized that it was being held palm upwards. He handed over four hundred pounds, and Captain Campbell ordered his crew to carry Percy’s luggage on board. Two of the young men were clearly surprised by how heavy the trunk was. Percy followed them up the gangway, clinging on to the pole which never left his side, even when he joined the captain on the bridge.

The captain studied several oceanographic charts before confirming the exact location at which Percy had asked to be abandoned and then gave the order to cast off. ‘Ah think it’ll tak’ us at least a day an’ a night afore wi reach oor destination,’ said the captain, ‘so perhaps, laddie, it might bi wise fur ye tae lay doon. The waves cin bi a wee bit choppy wance wi leave the shelter ae the harbour.’

They had only just passed Wick lighthouse when Percy began to appreciate the true meaning of Captain Campbell’s words, and to regret having had a second helping of porridge that morning. He spent most of the day leaning over the railing, depositing what he’d eaten the previous day into the waves. It wasn’t much different during the night, except that it was dark and the crew couldn’t see him. He declined the captain’s offer to join them for a supper of fish stew.

After thirty hours of Percy wishing the ship would sink, or someone would throw him overboard, the first mate pointed through the mist and hollered, ‘Land ahoy!’ But it was some time before the blurred dot on the horizon finally turned into a piece of land that might just have been described by an assiduous cartographer as an island.

Percy wanted to cheer, but his voice became muffled as the little vessel continued to circle the island in a valiant attempt to find a landing place. All they could see ahead of them were treacherous rocks and unassailable cliffs that didn’t require a ‘no entry’ sign to warn them off. Percy sank down on to the deck, feeling that the whole exercise simply mirrored his career and would end in failure. He bowed his head in despair, so didn’t see the captain pointing to a cove that boasted a small beach.

The crew were experienced at landing far more slippery objects than Percy, and an hour later they left him on the beach along with all his worldly goods. His parting words to the skipper as he climbed back into his small dinghy were, ‘If you return in ninety-one days and take me back to the mainland, I’ll pay you a further thousand pounds.’

He had anticipated the captain’s response, and without waiting to be asked handed over two hundred pounds in cash; but not before he had confirmed the exact date on which the Bonnie Belle was to return.

‘If you turn up even one hour before the ninety-first day,’ he said without explanation, ‘you will not be paid another penny.’

Captain Campbell shrugged his shoulders, as he was past trying to understand the eccentric Englishman, but he did manage another salute once he’d pocketed the cash. The crew then rowed him back to his little fishing vessel so they could go about their normal business on the high seas, though not until they were back within the 150-mile legal limit.

Percy placed his feet wide apart and tried to steady himself, but after thirty hours on the Bonnie Belle it felt as if the whole island was swaying from side to side. He didn’t move until his former companions were out of sight.

He then dragged his belongings up the beach on to higher ground before he went in search of a suitable piece of land on which to pitch his tent. The relentless wind and squalls of rain did not assist his progress.

The flattest piece of land Percy came across during his initial recce turned out to be the highest point on the island, while the most sheltered spot was a large cave nestled in a cliff on the west side. It took him the rest of the day to move all his belongings from the beach to his new home.

After devouring a can of baked beans and a carton of long-life milk, he climbed into his sleeping bag and spent his first night on Forsdyke Island. He missed Horatio.

Most people would find trying to survive for three months on a small, uninhabited island in the North Sea somewhat daunting, but having spent thirty years in the basement of the Foreign and Commonwealth Office, Percy Forsdyke was equal to the task. Moreover, he knew that his father and grandfather would regard it as nothing more than character building.

Percy spent his first full day on the island unpacking his trunk and making his new home as comfortable as possible. He stacked all the food at the coldest end of the cave and placed his equipment neatly along the sides.

For some weeks Percy had been planning the routine he’d follow on the island. He would begin the day with a bowl of cornflakes, a boiled egg (until he could bear them no more) and a mug of tea while listening to the Today Programme on Radio Four. This would be followed by a session of digging on the highest point of the island, weather permitting. Lunch, usually spam and baked beans, would be followed by a siesta. Not that Percy was avoiding the heat of the sun, you understand; he was just tired. When he woke, Percy would spend the rest of the afternoon exploring the island until he was familiar with every nook and cranny of his kingdom. Once the sun had set, which was very late at that time of year, he would prepare his dinner: more spam and baked beans. It didn’t take long for Percy to regret his lack of culinary imagination.