Winter Storms by Lucy Oliver Page A

have rent to pay, as well as lifeboats to raise money for, though since a large amount of my stock is here I doubt Linda will sell much!”
    Grabbing her stick, she gave a last wave and strode over to the hot chestnut stand, run by Phil and Tony, also of the lifeboat station. Certainly all the crew were doing their best to bring in funds; she couldn’t have organised this day without the assistance they’d given her.
    “How are you doing?” she said, heading around the front of the queue.
    Tony turned around from the chestnuts, his muscles swelling the arms of his thin top, and grinned. “Hello Carls, here to check we’re not slacking?”
    “Aren’t you cold?” she said.
    “Not at all, warm as toast here by the cooker. Want some chestnuts?”
    “I’ll have a bag.” She watched him scoop them up and taking them, hugged them tight to her chest. The freezing weather seeped even through her coat and glancing toward the harbour, she frowned.
    “It’s going to get a bit blowy later,” Tony said, following her gaze. “Are you going to be able to get the sailing races over before those clouds settle in?”
    She nodded, not wanting to depress them with the news that there might not be a sailing race. Damn Duncan, she was sure he was involved in all this. She knew her fellow sailors, they’d all been enthusiastic when she made the arrangements. Someone had been working on them and there was only one person she knew who was so set against the lifeboat station that he would bother to do this. Duncan wasn’t even from Haven Bay and certainly had no connections with either the sailors or fishermen, whose lives depended on the station. Shivering, she hugged the chestnut bag closer. What else was Duncan planning? Exactly how far would he go to ensure the Bay lost its lifeboat station?
    “We’ve moved the times of the races forward,” she said.
    “That’s good, we don’t want to start the day with a demonstration of how the lifeboats really work. Although.” He grinned. “It might help raise a bit more money; will we have enough after today?”
    “Sadly not, we’ll have about half, so it’ll be a while longer before we get the boat, another year of fundraising I expect. We can use the Summer Gala too to bring some money in.”
    His smile faded and he looked at the high ocean waves crashing beyond the harbour. She knew what he was thinking, what all the lifeboat crew were thinking. Would their current boat last that long? If it got damaged in a rescue, or the old engine simply gave up, then the town could be left without a lifeboat during the vicious storms of winter. She never would have survived if a keen eyed walker on the cliff top hadn’t spotted her in the water, held up by Daniel, and summoned the coast guard to save her. The least she could do in return was to ensure the brave crew who set out to perform such daring rescues had the safest and most up to date craft.
    Looking back at Tony and Phil, she smiled. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you that lifeboat, if only so I don’t have to face Mrs. Bainbridge, if we don’t manage it.”
    “She’s got it rough, both her men out there; my wife hates me doing it,” Tony said. “But she knows I have to volunteer, it’s only fair, after all. Mick saved me when my boat went down.”
    “See you later.” Carly walked away, wondering how many charities were kept running due to a sense of obligation by the volunteers to help others in the way they themselves had been assisted. It was almost certainly why Daniel joined the Padstow crew, it was a shame she couldn’t do something similar, but with an injured leg and a fear of water, she’d be no good on a life craft, more hindrance than help. No, she’d continue her work on the shore, raising money for those brave souls who ventured out on nights when the waves reached fifteen feet.
    Rubbing her eyes, she bought a coffee from the hot drinks stall to keep herself awake and strode over to her brother. He smiled