Before The Wolfound (novel)

Part 1 - Chapter 1

I’d bought the 28ft yacht into a quay the night before. It had been nautical twilight, just enough to
see the outlines in the near dark. The full moon and light cloud cover had helped to avoid hitting anything. The old inboard diesel was anything but reliable and had cut out as I knocked the power off. I’d been slow enough to push her away from the quay by hand and hold her there.

Now it was morning, I stood on the deck and looked at the village whose quay I was occupying. It was a
low lying place of stone fishermen huts with the odd fancy house between. Beside the quay the inlet had rough boggy heather on the other side. From last night I knew that the inlet went out to a large bay that had access to the North Sea.

Eyeing the village, I wondered it it was large enough to boast a police station, and if they’d decide to come and arrest me.

Of course, the yacht wasn’t mine. I’d borrowed it in France. I didn’t expect anyone would miss this
old heap. At least the sails worked, just about. The halyards had been missing but I’d rigged something with a few bits of old rope.She’d got across the pond just fine. Enough wind for six knots, little enough for reasonable waves.

I wondered if there was anywhere to find some sort of breakfast in this village. As I eyed it, I expected it was all in vain, as a bobby made his appearance walking down the quayside.

The tide was in, so the yacht was near the top of the quay. Therefore the policeman was at the same height as me. I wondered if I should just set sail and avoid him. He might not be coming to see me.

However, as he plodded up, he did stop across from me.

“Morning sir.”

“Good morning officer.”

“Where would you be coming from?”

“Having a little pleasure cruise up the coast.”

“Oh yes, registered in Calais I see?”

“Indeed, I bought her off a Frenchman. I expect he didn’t want to sail the pond.” The bobby stood there for a moment. “Any place to get breakfast here?”

“Just old Gert, way back in the village,” he said, pointing.

“Thank you, I’ll go and get some.” I made to disembark. The bobby, apparently pleased that I was not scarpering on the boat and he’d know where to find me for a bit, seemed content to leave it at that for now.

“Have a good breakfast.”

“Thank you officer.”

I walked away in the direction he’d indicated.

The village was bigger than I’d expected but I found “old Gerts” easily. It was a small place with an open fire up one end and rough wooden tables and chairs. Gert, who was very old indeed, served me with bacon, eggs and coffee. All very good. Gert knew her stuff. I assumed this was a place the fishermen frequented as the cost wasn’t bad at all. A good thing as my pockets were nearly empty.

I thought about my recent journey as I sat and ate. Once I had got to Paris it was simple to jump a
goods train to Calais. Then walking to the leisure craft I saw the old girl looking quite neglected and I hoped she’d not be missed. I thought about the events before that briefly, but tried not to think about it in order to enjoy my coffee.

Once I finished and paid, I took my leave.

As I stepped out of the establishment I found myself starring down the barrel of a gun.

***

Though I wasn't, it was completely in my head, I just expected it at any time. The recent past had made me jumpy and ready for anything, even if it wasn’t there at all.

I did certainly feel better after the breakfast. The journey across the pond had been tiring and I couldn’t remember when I’d last had a good uninterrupted sleep. I considered another kip in the boat but it wasn’t exactly comfortable in there.

Outside old Gerts little had changed but for guns in my head. A light drizzle was falling and the cloud cover was dense. There was no one about. I followed the cobbled road back down to the quay.

When I got there I peeped around the corner, to make sure nothing had changed. However, something had
changed. Moored right in front of my yacht was a gunboat. I didn’t reveal myself on the quay and hung back. I carefully looked around the corner again. It was mostly painted grey, there were few markings on it. I had no idea what it was doing there but I was very paranoid and couldn’t think it had nothing to do with me. The lack of personnel was confusing. Perhaps they were having breakfast below deck. She looked to be 60ft or so. Good looking hull. I guessed it had a good turn of speed. Despite clearly being an old gunboat, there was no gun on the forward deck, where you’d expect one. In-fact, this gunboat had no war paraphernalia at all. The items on the deck included a couple of wooden dingies. I couldn’t imagine why it was
there.

Right then the bobby stepped around the corner in front of me.

“Had a good breakfast did you?”

“Indeed I did, Gert knows her stuff.”

“She does. Any reason you are loitering now, sir?”

“I was admiring that old gunboat.”

“Regular here now, recently acquired by the coast guard, yet to receive a new paint job. The gun was removed a few weeks ago for its new role.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Thinking of leaving us are you?”

“Oh no, I need a rest after sailing along the coast.”

As we were talking a man appeared on deck of the ex-gunboat. He appeared to be anything but a coastguard to me.

“Have a good rest then.”

The policeman took his leave. I stood and gazed at the ship, or pretended to, I was actually looking at the man on deck.

I decided to return to my yacht and hoped the man didn’t look my way as I did. I reached my boat with no alarms. I’d not looked at much on board her before and decided to see what I had taken with this old yacht. Pretty soon I realised, not much. It was obvious that it had been abandoned for a long time, somehow I expected the former owner was long dead.

She was quite wide for a 28ft long yacht, I guessed a 10ft beam. The main saloon had a sea toilet room ahead and in the bow was a double bed, very narrow at the end. Pretty spacious in general though. In the middle of the saloon was a lifting keel. I expected she’d be able to navigate shallow waters. Other than that there was a lot of junk that needed to be thrown out. I had the overwhelming feeling of the ghost of the former owner in his
things.

Then I heard someone walking on the quay nearby and expected it wouldn’t be long until I was dead too.

(Download the complete novel for free here)