The Tripps have been taken out for a test sail and their pesky neighbour Ted Gunn has managed to tag along...
Vivian looked up at the sail, the seagulls, the sunlight playing on the waves and nodded at her husband. It was all just perfect. The three drank in the moment when there was a loud band and crash heard from below and Ted bolted up the steps and made a bee line for the rail. He leaned over and heaved. Avery, Colin and Viv politely looked the other way as Ted squandered their cut lunch, feeding the fish. The noises he made would try the hardiest of constitutions and it was with more than a modicum of self control that the three kept their stomachs in check. When Ted as finished he stood up,
"I feel better now." Colin swallowed hard and tried to keep his mind on Avery's words, but it didn't look good as the mal de mare tightened it's grip on his stomach.
"Col?" Viv looked at her husband as his face resembled an open mouthed clown at the showgrounds and then his lips pursed so tight an Egyptian would have had a hard time putting a cigarette paper between them.
"Col?" Vivian took his arm. Colin shook his head and pleaded with his eyes not to answer. He swallowed once more then puffed out his cheeks and sucked them back in again. It was a spectacular show as he scrunched his face, squeezed his eyes tight then let out an enormous burp. As he gradually turned white, then a pale green those present knew the inevitable was about to happen.
"I'll just go and check those fenders," Vivian scooted up the bow of the boat.
"I think I need to check the engine." Avery left the wheel on lock and jumped two at a time down the steps to the cabin. Colin stole a glance at Ted and if looks could kill the police might have been looking for a double murder with only one victim.
"Nothing to it," Ted said as he poked his straw in a fruit drink and smiled. Colin, now in the grip, lunged for the stern rail and opened his mouth. He waited, dribble the only outcome. He closed his eyes and wished he were dead. He toyed with the idea of suicide, a noose, blunt force trauma, anything to get going.
He listened as Ted sucked the last of the juice and wished he could shove that box right down his neighbour's neck. He thought it a grand idea and was just about to return to the cockpit when his breakfast once again saw the light of day.