5
The sailor lunged forward and made a grab for us, but we were too nimble for him. We dodged backwards out of his reach, darted behind the stack of dragon’s blood and sprinted along a narrow alleyway between two rows of luggage crates.
“Come here, you little tykes!” roared the sailor. “I should throw you overboard!”
The alleyway led out into an open space. Raised up on wooden blocks, was a Renault towncar, the finest motor car I had ever seen. Even in the dim light of the cargo hold, its burgundy body and brass fittings gleamed.
We hid behind the Renault, not daring to take a breath. Peering through its windows, we could see the sailor prowling around the hold, listening for the slightest sound.
“That door behind him,” Omar whispered in my ear. “I don’t think it’s shut properly. I’ll create a diversion and then we’ll make a run for it.”
I nodded.
Omar took a marble from his pocket and threw it gently behind a stack of crates. It clattered and rolled.
The sailor ran towards the noise, and we rushed for the door.
On the other side of the door was a spiral staircase. We sprinted up it, taking the steps three at a time. The sailor stormed up the steps behind us in furious pursuit.
“I’ve never been here,” I gasped. “Where are we?”
“Crew’s staircase at the front of the ship.”
“Bow, not front,” I corrected him.
“Front, bow, either way we’re not allowed here.”
Up and up we ran. At the top of the fourth flight of steps, a sudden smell of smoked herring hit us.
“Crew’s kitchen!” shouted Omar. “This way!”
“Galley,” I panted, running along the corridor behind him. “On a ship you say galley, not kitchen.”
“Shut up,” puffed Omar.
We sprinted past the sailors’ cabins and galley, then burst through an unmarked door into the fresh, salty air. This well deck was a third-class area and it was crowded with third-class passengers playing different kinds of games: ring toss, marbles, Dutch skipping and arm-wrestling. Shouting and laughter mingled with the thrum of the ship’s engines and the roar of the sea against its prow.
Omar and I split up. He joined a group of boys playing marbles, whilst I leaned over a railing and pretended to gaze out to sea. Out of the corner of my eye I saw our pursuer emerge blinking into the light. He scanned the deck for a minute or two, but soon gave up and went back inside.
I sat down on a hatch cover and promised myself never to enter a cargo hold again.