Emily

Well, that was awkward. The morning after and all that. I got the feeling Naoms and I had been a bit loud last night in the front cabin. Especially with Cook and Harry away, we sort of went for it a bit...

I suppose there are a few positions we left out, but not many. I now know how it feels to have a newly recovered Naomi Campbell fuck me senseless against most of the horizontal, and quite a few vertical surfaces of the boat. I don't think there is a single piece of furniture we didn't christen. The bed was the last to get the Fitch Campbell seal of approval and I think I can safely say, I now know why the number 69 has special significance. I never really got mutual oral sex before. I used to get put off my stride by what was going on...below... I mean, why can't people just do it straight, huh? But Naomi showed me in spades, that in the right hands...or should I say hands and lips, it can be a hell of a ride. I guess all the theme parks in the world are now extinct, but nothing Thorpe Park can offer will give me as much pleasure as a half hour sitting on Naomi's face, that's for sure.

But judging by the looks we have been getting this morning, our 6 hour sexathon wasn't that popular with our shipmates. Katie huffed and puffed as usual, complaining about the 'totally inappropriate lezzer soundtrack' she had been forced to listen to, which to me is normally blah blah Katie wallpaper and worthy of nothing more than a shrug, but Effy too sounded a bit pissed off, which isn't like her. Naomi's comment about Effy needing to 'get some herself' went down like a bucket of sick, so maybe it was a bit too close to the truth. I caught a look between Eff and Katie which puzzled me. I know we were teasing Katie last night when we were pissed, but no one seriously meant to suggest... Oh fuck. Now I see. Effy does want to shag my sister! How could I be so blind? I think a sisterly chat is well in order later today. But first to more important matters (after breakfast of course. That's always the most important item on the agenda)

Well that little item was ticked off in quick order. The atmosphere at the breakfast table made sure of that. Katie avoided Effy's eyes at all times, and Eff just sloped off for a fag straight after coffee, so Naoms and I tidied up and got ready for what we hoped was an early return of our happy wanderers.

XXX

It was Effy who heard them first. She whistled urgently down the galley steps at us, and we all climbed up on deck. It was raining slightly, just drizzle, but suddenly you could feel autumn in the air, even if it was still really late summer. I grabbed two thin shower jackets off a peg in the wheelhouse, which although far too big, were OK for me and Naomi. Katie bitched briefly about the fact that she was the only one without anything waterproof to wear, but when Effy arched one eyebrow and said "That's a pity Katiekins, we don't want you getting wet hun, do we?" in that annoying know it all tone we knew and loved, Katie blushed furiously. An event which is so rare, it ranks alongside Jimmy Saville tribute programmes and honest politicians for uniqueness. She muttered something unintelligible under her breath, but then wrapped her arms round herself and kept quiet after that.

I could just hear what sounded like a motorbike in the distance, and then the unmistakeable roar of Cook's Jeep. The diesel throb was as individual as he was. Despite the fact that I retained a generous amount of bitter jealousy towards him for shagging my new girlfriend, I was happy to know he was back. As our only fully fit soldier, we certainly couldn't do without him.

Soon enough Katie squealed, spotting the roof of the Jeep speeding down between the small terraced houses on the opposite side of the river, then it came fully into view as it growled along the harbour wall. Just behind it was a big red Honda XR off road bike with one rider aboard. Inside two minutes the two pulled up abruptly by the jetty and Cook emerged from the Jeep with Harry slightly behind him. I suppose screaming "ahoy there, love boat" was a bit cheesy, but when did that ever stop Cook? He grinned happily at us and waved a lot. Effy jumped down to the tied up skiff beside the boat and soon it was put-putting across the harbour. I couldn't see who was on the motorbike, but judging by the hugs Harry was giving him, it was obviously Jake.

Five minutes later, when they were aboard, we all got a massive bear hug from Cook each, followed by a breathless blow by blow account from Harry of the discovery of Jake in Falmouth. It had apparently taken a while, with quite a few false starts, but it looked like the two siblings were almost telepathically connected, and she had finally found him in a deserted warehouse on the quayside by a process of elimination. He was quite a bit taller than our youngest companion. Dark haired like her, slim and a bit skater boi to look at, actually. He had a ready, open smile, again, like his sister, who by this time was gambolling about around us like an unruly puppy, giving out random hugs to everyone for fuck all.

We shook hands with Jake and introduced ourselves one at a time. Katie did her normal eyelash batting at the sight of a potential stiff prick, and I stole a glance at Effy, who was as usual putting on her 'couldn't give a fuck face' but I did see a flash of what passed for annoyance when Katie held onto Jakes hand a bit too long. I could read the whole situation in a second, unlike Naomi, who gave me a puzzled look of her own when she noticed Effys frown. She nudged me, but I shook my head at her unspoken question. "Later" I mouthed, and she nodded back. I needed a Fitch family conference over this, and now wasn't the time.

After feeding our intrepid travellers and making sure Cook got his three sugar tea, we settled in the big central cabin to discuss our next move. Thank fuck for Jake, because it turned out we would have been in a world of hurt if we had tried to motor to the Scillies without an experienced sailor on board. He told us that the tides and currents were treacherous round the Cornish peninsula, and that landing on the Scilly Islands was one of the most challenging things we could have attempted. There was an easy landfall on one island, but doing it blind, with no seamen on board would have seen us wrecked at best. We looked at each other with raised eyebrows, and thanked Harry yet again for being the most sensible of us all.

Jake said the best time to set off was just after dawn tomorrow. Of course, we had no way of checking weather or sea forecasts, with no radio or coastguard, but his experienced eyes told him that, barring surprises, tomorrow morning looked like being calm.

Calm... yeah right. Have you ever been seasick? When we left the safety of the harbour at first light, below a steel grey overcast sky, it looked simple. The sea looked fine, just a ripple of movement on the surface. Gradually, as we headed out in a straight Westerly direction the boat began to wallow. Not a lot. First a bit of side to side motion, which whilst only a bit unsettling, started to make me regret the muffin I had wolfed for breakfast. Then the boat began to pitch up and down, front to back as we headed into bigger waves. To make things worse, Naomi was absolutely fine. She stood at the bow, like fucking Kate Winslet. I was expecting at least one 'King of the World' but she spared us that. Cook stood beside her, doing his Jack Sparrow impression, 'aharing' and generally fucking about. All he was short of was a parrot and peg leg. . Katie was in the wheelhouse, presumably priming our new recruit for an inevitable trouser unzipping to come, and Effy was scowling at the wheelhouse, like it contained all kinds of unseen horrors. So that left me and Harry, who, true to form was scampering about the boat, tidying up and generally being useful. So just me then, I thought miserably,as the muffin joined the coffee overboard.

You know when you're pissed, and you know you're gonna throw up whatever you do? Well. If that had been it, I would have suffered it gladly. The trouble with seasickness is that doesn't happen once. You feel nauseous, you upchuck, and then...you feel nauseous all over again. Over and fucking over. By the time we were five miles off the coast, all I wanted was for someone to give me a bottle of brandy and throw me overboard. Seriously.

Naomi finally realised that I wasn't the happiest crew member of the fucking 'Black Pearl' and half carried me below. Of course we had no seasickness pills. We had left the three vehicles and all the stuff we couldn't stash on board in an abandoned warehouse about half a mile from the harbour. We had no idea if this journey to the Scillies would be permanent, so Cook had insisted that we keep our options open. We still had no clue why all the local population of every place we passed was mysteriously missing, but it stood to reason something sinister was going on...apart from the ending of the known world of course.

She mopped my brow, held out a bucket when I tried unsuccessfully to throw up the lining of my stomach yet again, and spoke soothing words of sympathy, which were not received well, to my shame. I had no idea at that time whether there would ever be a future for any of us in this fucked up country, but if that was how I felt when I was seasick, I could only imagine how I would behave in labour...I felt sorry for her if she ever wanted to be with me in childbirth...

Finally...and I mean finally, because it felt like at least a year and a half since we left the small fishing village which had been our recent home, Jake spun the boat almost on it's axis, (which produced another batch of heaves from yours truly), and slipped in beside the landing pier of a place called New Grimsby on the island of Tresco, which I found out later was the second biggest island in the Scillies. The boat mercifully stopped rolling, and I stopped heaving. Bliss...We were here.

Two hours later, we had done some exploring...again no people. Which considering this place was about as far from the mainland as you could get without hitting New York, was doubly surprising. There was a small grocers, intact and with its door open as if the inhabitants had popped out for a paper, a couple of tourist hotels and a pub, but not much else. Jake told us that the island was only a mile or so wide and a couple long, so it was ideal for what we wanted. A base, a refuge and a relatively safe haven for our motley crew to shelter in.

Turned out it was anything but. But I'll leave those horrors for another time. For the time being anyway, we were happy...Poor fools.

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