He spent most of the afternoon pushing a trolley up and down the aisles of the local supermarket, stocking up with enough provisions to ensure he could survive for ninety days. Once he was back in his hotel room, he sat on the end of the bed and checked his list once again. He still required one essential item; in fact, he couldn’t leave Wick without it.
Although Percy had failed to find what he wanted in any of the shops in town, he had spotted a perfect second-hand example on the roof of the hotel. He approached the proprietor, who was surprised by the guest’s request but, noticing his desperation, drove a hard bargain, insisting on seventy pounds for the family heirloom.
‘But it’s old, battered and torn,’ said Percy.
‘If it’s nae guid enough fur ye, sur,’ said the owner loftily, ‘ah feel sure y’ll bi able tae find a superior wan in Inverness.’ Percy gave in, having discovered the true meaning of the word canny, and handed over seven ten-pound notes. The proprietor promised that he would have it taken down from the roof before Percy left the following morning.
After such an exhausting day, Percy felt he had earned a rest, but he still had one more task to fulfil before he could retire to bed.
At supper in the three-table dining room, the head waiter (the only waiter) told Percy the name of the man who could solve his final problem, and exactly where he would be located at that time of night. After cleaning his teeth (he always cleaned his teeth after a meal), Percy made his way down to the harbour in search of the Fisherman’s Arms. He tapped his jacket pocket to check he hadn’t forgotten his wallet and the all-important map.
When Percy entered the pub he received some curious stares from the locals, who didn’t approve of stray Englishmen invading their territory. He spotted the man he was looking for seated in a far corner, playing dominoes with three younger men, and made his way slowly across the room, every eye following him, until he came to a halt in front of a squat, bearded man dressed in a thick blue sweater and salt-encrusted jeans.
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.’