Page 3 of Lawless (Dauntless Island #2)

NATTY

M y cousin Button John had got a four pack of pink donuts from Woolworths when he’d done the Wednesday run to the mainland yesterday with Young Harry Barnes.

We ate the last two while we sat on the rocks at Mayfair Bay and the sun dried us off after our swim.

Mayfair Bay wasn’t the best for sunbathing, given it was more rocks than sand, but it was our beach.

Me and Button John had been coming here since we were old enough to walk, let alone swim.

We knew every inch of these rocks, all the way down to Young Harry’s sprawling shack and back again.

Young Harry Barnes was our great-uncle. His son, Sea John, worked on my brother Nipper Will’s boat, so me and Button John helped Young Harry out around the place.

It was the Dauntless Island way. So were family trees that looked more like knotted wreaths; everyone on the island was related to everyone else, and everyone was a cousin of some variety, but me and Button John were first cousins—his dad Big Johnny Barnes was my mum Susan’s brother.

Mum had been a Barnes before she’d married my dad and become a Harper.

Button John finished his donut and stretched, the sunlight glinting off his long, lean body.

His dark hair was drying in ways that made it stick out more than normal—and it normally looked like a cross between a rat’s nest and a halo, or like he was a cartoon character that’d stuck his finger in a power point.

My hair was longer, and reached below my shoulders when it was wet, but when it dried it’d be just as messy as his.

“I’m going to get a phone next week,” Button John said, licking pink icing off his fingers.

“What for?”

His dark eyes sparkled in the sunlight. “Because Mavis Coldwell heard off Yellow Sarah who heard off Red Joe that we’re getting a phone tower. Well, we’re getting an aerial on the lighthouse, so it won’t be all satellites and shit now—we’re getting 4G.”

“Doesn’t everywhere else have 5G already?”

“I don’t even know what a G is,” Button John said. He wiggled four fingers in my direction. “But at least we’re getting some of them at last.”

I thought of the mobile phone that was stashed away in my bottom drawer.

It had been Nipper Will’s before it had been mine.

The last time it had worked was when I was at boarding school on the mainland, but I hadn’t even used it much then, because it wasn’t like I could call anyone from home.

Wasn’t like I’d had anyone to call, since Button John had been at boarding school with me.

Up until my last year, at least, since he was a year older than me.

I’d hated my last year of school.

I’d thought everything would be better when I was back home on Dauntless, but it wasn’t.

I was stuck doing odd jobs wherever I could because Nipper Will wouldn’t take me on his boat, and he’d put out the word that nobody else was to take me as well.

He wouldn’t even let me go to the mainland once a week with Young Harry to pick up groceries and the occasional tourists who didn’t come by the barge.

I was getting sick of hearing “Because I said so, Natty!” every time he opened his mouth.

And, whenever I tried to argue: “Because Mum needs help at home.”

That much was true, at least. Days on the boats were long, from dawn until dusk, and Mum couldn’t be left alone for all that time. But if I got a job on a boat, we could pay for someone to keep an eye on her. But Will wouldn’t have a bar of that either. Just, “Because I said so, Natty!”

“You look cranky,” Button John said. “Are you too cranky to eat the rest of your donut?”

I shoved it in my mouth before he could grab it.

Button John picked up a sea-smoothed rock and turned it over and over in his palm. He squinted at me in the sunlight. “Is Will still being a dickhead?”

I snorted. “Yeah. Story of my life.”

“Lucky he doesn’t know about this then,” Button John said, and he wasn’t talking about the donuts.

He was talking about the bag of plastic-wrapped packages behind us, that we’d got this morning from Young Harry Barnes, and we’d be hiding in the cave just as soon as the tide turned.

The cave at Mayfair Bay was long and dark and narrow, with an entrance that was submerged by the waves.

The entrance was the scariest part—you had to hold your breath and swim under the rocky overhang before you came up again inside.

Once you were inside, it was fine. There were enough cracks of light to see by, and plenty of fresh air.

It was protected by the tide—there was only a narrow window of time when the tide was right on the turn that you could get in and out quickly.

If you didn’t, you’d be stuck inside for hours, waiting it out.

Right at the top of the cave, up a narrow, rocky path, it opened into a chamber that was big enough to fit ten men and nobody would have to elbow anyone else for room.

Not too many people knew about the cave—even me and Button John hadn’t until Young Harry, who couldn’t get up there anymore because of his knees and his cough, had told us about it.

It was another thing that Nipper Will wouldn’t approve of—so I was never going to tell him.

We gathered up the packages and wandered along the beach to the entrance to the caves.

It meant following a spur of rock out as it curved into the water, then swimming down into the rockpool on the leeside where the entrance to the cave opened.

I went first—even with the tide on our side now, it was hard work to push through those first few metres before the cave opened up and I could surface, especially dragging a bag with me.

Button John surfaced behind me, spitting saltwater in my direction.

I splashed him with my free hand and scrambled out of the water onto the sandy floor of the cave.

We headed up what we called the stairs—the narrow, rocky path that led to the uppermost cavern.

It was slippery, but we were surefooted, and we’d done this what felt like a million times. We could do it in our sleep, probably.

Twenty minutes later we were back on the beach, gathering up our shirts and shoes before we began the trek home across the island.

* * *

I didn’t get home until late, because me and Button John had got caught up talking shit while we cleared out his back shed—Big Johnny and Aunt Jane had been at him to do it for months, but not without help, since Button John had a habit of steering into disaster if there wasn’t anyone there to stop him—and we’d lost track of the time.

It was almost dark by the time I left. Button John lived at the top end of the village, which was only a ten-minute walk from the bottom end at the harbour wall.

About half that if you ran, and I ran once I realised that I was late, hoping to beat Nipper Will home.

Our place was a street back from the harbour wall, beside the old church.

The house was the same as all the others in the village—a two-storey sandstone cottage that felt as old as the island itself.

Ours had a rickety front fence that was in danger of falling down because of the weight of the vines tangled on it, and a back fence that already had.

I didn’t go into the house when I got there.

Instead, I headed around it into the back yard, so I could wash away some of the dirt I’d got covered in helping Button John.

Our house didn’t have a laundry—just a tin lean-to that had been tacked on to the outside wall beside the back door, with a tub and an old hand-cranked mangle in it.

We had a washing machine and a dryer inside the kitchen, and only used the tub outside if the power ever went out for long enough that we got desperate.

Will used the tub to clean his gear. Fuck if we’d ever bothered with the mangle though.

I groaned as I rounded the corner and spotted the tub, because yeah, Will’s clothes were in it, bundled up just under the surface of the soapy water. He’d beaten me home.

I dipped my hands in the still-warm water and rubbed them together to get the worst of the grime off. I didn’t look up when the back door opened.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

I caught one of his buttons between my thumb and forefinger under the water. Squeezed it until it hurt, and only then turned my head to look at him.

Nipper Will leaned in the doorway, wearing a scowl that made him look like he was closing in on forty instead of thirty.

His hair was damp and messy, hanging in wet strands over his furrowed forehead, like he’d just got out of the shower.

The light from the kitchen spilled out behind him, framing the angles of his face.

We didn’t look much alike, at least I didn’t think we did, but then I couldn’t grow a beard for shit, and I also didn’t have ten years of lugging full nets behind me.

Will had wide shoulders, and a strong neck, and actual muscle definition, whereas Button John once said I was built like a Chupa Chup.

“I was helping Button John clean out their shed,” I said, pulling my hands out of the water and wiping them on my shorts.

“Yeah, well there’s no fucking dinner on, so it looks like we’re having toast.”

His glower left no doubt whose fault that was, so I didn’t bother arguing. “Okay.”

I followed him inside. He thumped around in the kitchen, and I left him to it.

Mum was in the front room. She usually was, except on the days she didn’t leave her bedroom.

She was sitting on the floor in front of the empty fireplace, working on another blanket.

This one was made up of knitted blue and green squares, all different shades.

A whole ocean. The squares were spread out all over the floor, and she was moving them around and then sitting back to inspect them, like they made a picture only she could see.

“No,” she said softly to herself, and switched two squares around.