“How are you going to move all that to your new apartment?” I ask, as she drags the third suitcase down to the pick-up. “It’s massive.”
“Well Billy, they have these new inventions in the city called cabs.” She tips her head onto one side and looks at me. “Didn’t you know?”
There’s a bit of an awkward moment when we actually have to say goodbye to Amber’s Mom. She hugs Amber, and then comes and hugs me as well, but I don’t mind, because Amber’s mom is OK really. She gives Dad a hug too. Then I get back in the truck and Amber jumps in behind me. Dad tries to protest and tell her to sit in the passenger seat, but she’s already in, and leaning forward between the two front seats.
“Don’t hit the gatepost this time Billy,” she says, as Dad gets in.
“I won’t,” I reply, and give it a wider berth to make sure I don’t.
It’s normally only about twenty minutes from Lornea Island’s capital, Newlea, which is more or less right in the middle, to the main port of Goldhaven, which is about three quarters of the way up on the west side. But even though it’s nearly September, the island is still busy with tourists, so I try to drive as fast as I can, but we keep getting stuck behind people who are obviously looking at the views as they go.
“It’s gonna be tight,” Amber says, and I glance at the clock on the dash of the truck, a bit surprised. What with us leaving home late, and then stopping for so long to pick up Amber, and maybe just a little bit my driving, we might actually miss the ferry after all. In response I push my foot down onto the floor and then, when a straight bit comes up, I signal left and move out to overtake the car that’s holding us back. It’s not the longest straight in the world, and before we’re half way past the car, another car rounds the bend in front heading towards us. Probably I should back off, and drop back, but I don’t. Instead I push my foot further down into the floor. Dad’s truck might be new to him, but that doesn’t mean it’s new, and it doesn’t have quite as much power as I need, so we don’t exactly leap forward. For about a second I don’t think we’re going to make it and almost start to panic, but then I see I’ve misjudged, and actually we’ve got plenty of room. Well sort of. As the car comes by it flashes its light and its horn blares. The sound gets all distorted as it shoots past my window.
“Doppler effect.” I say, not to anyone in particular.
“Thanks for the explanation Billy,” Amber replies tightly. “Good to know when I’m dead.”
Dad just raises his eyebrows a little.
Goldhaven is pretty small. You can see the ferry as you come into town. I guess the fact it’s still there is a good thing, but even so I drive right up to the front of the parking lot where you can drop off foot passengers. But then Dad tells me to go further, up to the booth where you have to check in if you’re taking your car across. Dad’s truck isn’t going of course, but it’s the only way we’re going to make it in time with Amber’s bags. When I wind down my window to speak to the woman in the booth, he leans across and explains, and after a moment’s hesitation she waves us through. There’s loads of space on the dockside, because all the cars and cargo that are going on the boat are already onboard, so I can stop right beside the foot passenger entrance. As soon as I stop, Dad jumps out and he’s already got all of Amber’s bags out of the truck, and waved to the ferry operative who’s waiting by the gangway, a steel walkway that connects to a door in the side of the ferry. The guy comes down to check our tickets, and looks a bit shocked by all Amber’s bags, and mine. And my bike.
“You’ve got about a minute to get that all onboard,” he says. And we don’t argue. We have to do two trips each, but we’re able to load them all inside the ferry. And then we come back outside onto the dockside. Amber gives Dad a hug, and then she goes inside with the last of her bags. So then it’s just me and Dad there.
“Well Billy, I guess this is it.” He says, and his voice sounds constricted, like he’s choked up. I don’t want to look at him, but I don’t want to not look at him either.
“Hurry it up now please, we need to stow the gangway.”
I turn to see the ferry operative with his high-visibility yellow vest and his radio, crackling away. I turn back to Dad.
“You’re sure you’ll be alright?”
Dad nods his head, and then he grabs me in a bear hug. “Come here Billy.” I feel how strong his is, squeezing me towards him. But just as much, these days I feel how I’ve grown stronger too. I hug him back, blinking away the prickling of tears in my eyes.
“Now please. If you’re going,” the ferry operative says. There’s actually two of them now, and I realize with a jolt that they’re not coming with us. They’re waiting for me to get on board so they can pull the walkway and leave it on the dock side. I nod and after a second I let Dad go.
“Be good Billy. And don’t get into any trouble,” Dad says, and I sort of half
