OVER THE NEXT FEW WEEKS, ALEC DID HIS BEST TO please his father. He stayed close to Aga, helping in the kitchen and running errands to the market. He thought often of Georgie—especially when he had to fetch guests from the train at Dover Priory and escort them to the inn. Georgie had always loved going to the trains, watching the people scuttle about, wondering where they'd come from, what led them to Dover.
Although June had been cold and dreary, July and August brought sunshine and warmth. Alec had turned fourteen and had spent his last day in school. He thought often about the future and his plan to leave. In spite of the warmer weather, the cloud of despair that had settled over the inn after Georgie's drowning brought a coldness he couldn't avoid. He never mentioned Georgie, nor did his father, but he knew the memory was always lurking, threatening to erupt and put more distance between them. And other fears troubled his parents. When Germany had invaded Czechoslovakia months earlier, in March, the trouble seemed far away. Now the guests at the hotel were full of stories of Germany and the evil Hitler, who had vowed to conquer all of Europe—and then England.
The first blackouts came near the end of August. Every business, ship, home, and auto was required to cover its windows or seal off any spot where light might penetrate the darkness and betray a city's location to enemy planes flying at night. Those who smoked cigarettes were forced inside. Air-raid drills worried people who had been through the Great War, and rumors circulated about the rationing of food.
Alec was not concerned. He rather liked the tension of the conversations around the table. But he had not seen a war. Those who had—like his father and Aga—were troubled by the news from the continent.
Gas masks were issued to every Dover resident, and at first, people toted them everywhere. Then days passed, and residents began leaving them behind when they went to the market or church. Some, like Alec, even found them a bit amusing.
"I think they're dandy," Alec said to Aga one day.
"That's because you've had no need to use them, Alec," Aga argued. "Things like gas masks, they stir memories that haunt you. Believe me, anything connected with war is sad."
A few days later, Alec got his first twinge of what Aga was feeling. People at the market that morning had been buzzing about Germany and its relentless chanting: "Today Germany is ours, and tomorrow the whole world!" In the evening, Aga, Alec, and his parents turned on the radio just in time to hear the report from the British Broadcasting Corporation: "On this day, the first of September, 1939, German forces have invaded Poland and its planes have bombed Polish cities, including the capital, Warsaw."
Two days after that, England and France declared war on Germany. Still, Dover seemed safe. After all, the war was across the Channel. Then Alec saw groups of soldiers arriving by train at the Dover Priory station. Soon after, a military encampment began to take shape up on the hill. Slowly, more and more troops arrived and set up their bases on the white cliffs above Dover. The encampment was off limits to civilians, but that didn't stop Alec from being curious about the military plans. The activity brought more business to Dover and to the docks, so he was sure to learn some news as he rambled about the city.
"Hitler says he will not stop until he's taken England," one traveler announced at supper. Alec smirked at Hitler's threat. Dover had felt such threats before in its history, but no one had ever succeeded in marching through her port and on to all of England. Alec was sure that Hider was no different from the others.
But even if he had been allowed to go up to the cliffs, Alec didn't want to go without his mate. Every day, he helped out at the inn, fetching guests from the Dover Priory or running to Shannon's Grocery for Aga. Then, with his chores finished, he would head for the dockyard.
His path would always be the same. He'd scoot out the back door, jump down the steps, and run down the High Street, past the little shops. Mr. Walter's Fresh Bread sign would be hanging above the biscuits in the window, tempting seamen on their way home from the docks. Dr. Henchley would be reaching into his auto to arrange his kit of medicines. And Mrs. Tanner would be pretending to sweep her stoop while really trying not to miss the latest gossip. Alec was careful to walk on the other side of the street.
At the docks, Alec found his place. He wandered along the pier, waiting for someone to toss him a line. Looping the rope under and over the mooring hook, he would wave and call out.
"Any luck today, mates? Will there be fare for supper?"
One day, Captain Cairns smiled at him. "Aye, Alec. The fishing is good."
"I'm sorry, Captain. But I think you're blowin' wind," a young sailor argued. "The fish across the Channel are all off to a party, if you ask me. Nothing's nippin'."
"Well, here's the proof," the captain answered, tossing a hefty flounder into Alec's hands. "Tell your mum you've brought fare for supper, lad. It's fish and chips you'll be having."
Later, sharing the story with Aga, Alec dropped the fish into the scullery basket and sat down. His father surprised them both as he charged into the room.
"Father, look—" Alec stood up.
"We've no time to be gazing at fish. Supper's due, and you've been mucking about on those docks all afternoon. We've got business to do and a name to protect. Help Aga with supper." He pushed his way through the swinging door.
"He's ... he's..." Aga tried to explain his father's harshness. "He's worried about business, Alec. The BBC is reporting more and more of the trouble in Europe. He's afraid we won't have guests if the news gets any worse."
"He's always worried about business," Alec said. "About the Curtis name. Well, I can't change him. And I can't keep away from the docks. My future's there."
"Alec, I know your heart's there. But can your mind be here? Can you help set the dining room for supper?"
"Aye, Aga. I want to do what helps you. But he makes me batty. Always telling me to 'do the Curtis name honor.' I'm not like him." But in one way, Alec was just like his father: they both knew what they wanted, and neither would give in.
In the dining room, Alec's mum helped him with the table. "He wasn't always like this," she said. "I know your father. You can't see it, but he's proud of us—of you. In the war, when he fought—in the Dardanelles—something happened. Something horrible. He won't speak of it. But it changed him, took away his spirit, and made him hard. I wish you could have known him before then."
Alec wanted to understand. For his mum's sake, he wanted to get along with his father. But each day brought arguments and pushed him more often to the docks.
One afternoon, Captain Cairns called him over to his ship. "Alec. Would it suit you to spend some time with me on the old boat—scrubbing the deck, brewing the tea, loading and hauling cargo to Folkestone or Ramsgate? And when we don't have any cargo, well, then, we'll cast off for the other side to do some fishing. The pay wouldn't be much, but I'd offer a fair wage. How about it, sonny? You think your mum and dad would go for such an arrangement?"
Trying to tie the Britannia's rope to the dock stake, Alec struggled to control his trembling hands. Was he imagining Cairns's words, or had the captain really asked him to work on his ship? Could there be a better day than this? A better moment than now—his first chance to be a true seaman? He wanted to jump on the boat right then and be carried away. He didn't care if he had to scrub decks or clean fish—he just wanted a chance. But would his father allow it? Alec had his daily chores at the Shaftbury. But he could get up early and set the table for breakfast. And most days, he wouldn't be out past supper, so he would have time to help Aga in the evening.
"Speak up, sonny. You know I'm an old bloke; I don't hear so well anymore. What do you say?" the captain asked.
"Yes. I say yes. I'll ship out on the Britannia," Alec said.
"And your folks?"
"They'll be glad I've got something to do during the day. Sometimes the inn doesn't keep me all that busy," Alec fibbed. Actually, Aga could find plenty of jobs for him, but he was a sea lover; someday, he would be a real seaman. How could he let this chance slip by? He would beg for his father's approval. "Tomorrow's Wednesday, Captain. I promised Aga I'd go to market in the morning. But I'll come by in the afternoon when you've docked. You can tell me then what I need to do."
On his way back to the inn, Alec realized that, maybe for the first time since Georgie's death, he could get beyond the past. Being a hand on the Britannia would help him prove himself. He could not live forever under the dark cloud that hovered over the inn. He had to do something to break from his father. He also had to convince his father that this job was right for him. He was determined not to lose his courage.
Fog was moving in over the city, and the streets were growing dark. It wouldn't go well with his father if Alec came home late and then asked about Captain Cairns. So to save time, he cut through the pub section and raced across Market Street. Turning the corner, he glanced back a moment; then he thought he heard someone call out. Before he could turn back around, Alec collided with a bloke just leaving the White Horse Pub. The man was scruffy-looking, big, with a strong smell of ale and tobacco lingering about him.
"My fault, mate," Alec volunteered. "Sorry to have rammed you like that."
But the man was not interested in apologies; his anger erupted. "Why don't ye watch where ye be goin'? What do ye think yer doin? If ye were my lad, aah'd smack ye for being so careless. Where's yer 'ome, boy? What's yer father's name?"
Alec fumbled for the lie that would get him on his way. "I'm just a mate on one of the ship's crews, sir. Don't have a home here. Sorry for the trouble. I'll be more careful."
"Those words don't help much, laddie. Ye nearly broke me leg, and yer captain needs to know about such foolishness. Come now. Show me which ship ye tend."
Terrified, Alec looked around for help. Then he did the only thing he could think of. He ran. He heard the slapping of feet on the brick street as the man chased him. Alec darted between two nearby pubs and slid through a lattice opening into an alley. Turning left, he raced along the base of the hill that held the military encampment. He stopped and listened for the man. Nothing. Circling around Mr. Woodhams's dairy, Alec hurried down York Street toward the back gate of the inn. Taking the steps two at a time, he flung open the door to find Aga standing in the scullery looking quite muddled.
"Alec. Your father's been pacing in and out of here asking what's become of you. What's happened? You're dripping sweat."
"Shh, Aga," Alec whispered. "Tell Father ... tell him I was out on an errand for you," he pleaded.
"I've already told him half a dozen times that I didn't know what had become of you. How can I suddenly remember an errand?"
"Please, Aga. Father knows you to be forgetful sometimes. Please tell him you forgot that you needed some bacon for breakfast, and you sent me for it. He won't question your word."
Just then, his father pushed open the swinging door to find Alec standing there.
"We've been searching the whole street for you, Alec."
"It's my fault, Mr. Frank," Aga said. "I forgot—I sent Alec on a run to the butcher's for bacon for tomorrow's breakfast. It isn't an English breakfast without bacon. I told Alec this morning I needed it, and he stopped to get it on his way home from the docks. Don't blame him, sir. I asked him to go."
His father hesitated, but Aga and Alec stood together, and Alec's father seemed too tired to press the matter. He left the kitchen, calling over his shoulder, "Supper needs to be ready by half past, Aga. See to it that the guests are fed on time."
"Of course, Mr. Frank, we'll be ready," Aga answered as she shot a threatening look at him.
"Thanks, Aga." Alec relaxed. "I can't be found out or Father will be angry, and I've an important question to ask him. He won't say yes if he thinks I was careless again."
"It had best be a life-or-death question, Alec boy, for me to lie so to your father. I've never felt so ashamed as I do now. You'd better have a good reason for asking me to do such a sinful thing."
"It's the beginning of my new life, Aga. Is that important enough?" Alec grinned.
Aga cocked her head and looked at him. "Lad, sometimes I don't know whether to smack you or hug you. Now wash your hands and then put this Yorkshire pudding in the cooker before you go to the dining room."
After supper, Alec took his time doing his chores. He didn't want to give his father any reason to say no to Captain Cairns's offer. So as soon as the guests had retired, Alec set about clearing the dishes and sweeping the dining room floor. Carefully moving every chair, Alec pushed the broom under the table, cleaning out any dust or crumbs that might have settled in the cracks. Then, even after Aga had dismissed him, he set out the plates and cups for the next morning's breakfast.
He nagged Aga for more jobs, but she grew weary of his pestering and finally pushed him into the dining room. His father was not there.
Alec heard voices coming from somewhere in the inn. He stepped across the dining room and through the lobby and peeked into the drawing room. "German forces now control all of Poland," the radio announced. His father was sitting alone at his desk, his ledger resting before him.
Alec quickly lost his nerve. His father hated interruptions when he was working on the ledger. The chore always agitated him, and combined with the news from the BBC, the ledger work would be even more dreadful. Alec tried to back away from the door, but his father heard him.
"What is it, Alec?"
At first, Alec's mouth wouldn't form the words. He feared that the moment he spoke, his father would hush him and send him away. Yet he also knew he had to ask now. He had given the captain his word. He stepped into the room.
"Father," Alec began. "There is something I need to ask."
His father didn't look up.
Alec tried again. "Father ... it's ... it's very important to me."
"No, no, it can't. Captain Cairns has asked me to hire on as a galley boy for the Britannia, and I told him I would." Alec hurried on. "Please, Father, please let me work with Captain Cairns. I love the sea, and I won't let it interfere with my chores for Aga. I can do both; I know I can. And it's time for me to make my own way."
"Alec, Aga needs you here. Besides, how could you even consider that you're ready for such work? Does Cairns know what happened to Georgie?"
"He was there, Father. The day we came back. He saw it all. He wants me anyway. He'll teach me what I need to know. And I'll do anything he asks. It's not as if we're going out for weeks at a time. He's a local skipper; we'll be back before supper most days. Please, Father, let me do this!"
Alec watched as his father made a note and then closed the ledger. He could only guess what his father was thinking. But he had gotten this far; he was not going to back down now. "Father," Alec pleaded, "don't keep me from this. Please."
His father turned to speak. Then he slumped in his chair, resting his head in his hands. "It's not my wish, Alec, but you've shown already that you're going to do what you're going to do. You ignore the rules. Georgie's accident is proof of that. Would you really stay away from the docks if I told you to? No, your head is set. I am not pleased with Cairns's offer, but I can't hold you here."
Alec stood for a minute, hoping his father would soften and give him some bit of encouragement. None came. Instead, his father picked up his pencil and turned back to his ledger. Alec backed out the door to the lobby and walked down the hallway to his own room.
I don't care if he doesn't like the idea. I'm going with Captain Cairns first chance I get. How many times do I have to be reminded about Georgie? Doesn't Father know that I think about Georgie every day? Doesn't he know that the less I'm around, the better everyone else will be? My world is not going to be ledgers and cleaning and catering to the needs of every guest who passes through the Shaftbury. My world is the sea. I will move on with or without Father's blessing.
As Alec wrote in his journal, he considered every detail. He would not abandon his post at the inn; Aga depended on him. He would get up early, do what he needed to do, and each day be at the Britannia before it shipped out.
Later, he got dressed to go out. He slipped a note into his pocket and pulled his cap over his eyes. Tiptoeing across the floor, he turned the doorknob and surveyed the hallway. Then, forcing his legs to move, he made his way to the kitchen and down the back steps, into the alley.
He crept through the darkness toward the docks and the Britannia, feeling guilty for his stubborn ways. But if he did not follow through that night, he would lose his nerve and forfeit his best chance to get on with his life. He hurried to the docks before he changed his mind.
Moving quietly among the ships moored near the Britannia, he took a deep breath and smelled the salt of the sea. Alec knew the port well. Two lengthy docks pushed out into the Channel. Surrounding the dock to the south were dinghies, rowboats, fishing smacks, and drifters tied up for fishing near the shore. Along the other dock, the larger vessels like the Britannia—tugboats and trawlers, barges, and even some paddle steamers—bobbed up and down on the rolling tide. Another port farther along harbored the ferries that shuttled people and autos across the Channel to France.
Before the blackout, Alec used to see small lanterns glowing from within the wheelhouses on some ships. Now, lights were doused and windows were covered. He was relieved that he knew the docks so well. He could find the Britannia in the dark.
He stepped over the gunwale and onto the deck, looking for the right spot to post his message. He settled on the wheelhouse, walked over and opened the door, and slipped inside. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the note. He didn't need the light to see; he'd rewritten the words so many times, he had them memorized:
Dear Captain Cairns,
My father has granted me permission to work on the Britannia. As promised, I will stop by in the afternoon to get more details about my duties and our first trip. Until then, I am respectfully yours,
Alec Curtis
The captain's clipboard hung from a nail above the wheel, so he took it down and snapped the note under the catch. He can't miss it, Alec thought.
He strode back across the deck, jumped to the docks, and ran up the ramp toward York Street and his bed. More confident with each step, he told himself over and over that he was doing the right thing, that he was on his own path.
By the time he was in front of the Shaftbury, he was nearly skipping, happy that he had left the note. Then something caught his attention. A man wearing a white cap was walking in front of him. Alec passed the Shaftbury, keeping his eyes on what was ahead. Darkness hid the man's face, but Alec followed the white cap as the man zigzagged back and forth along the walk. He wondered where the bloke was headed at that time of night. Then the man turned onto Castle Hill Road, and Alec lost sight of him.
Alec shrugged and told himself the man was not his business. And in a few minutes, he was climbing the steps to home. He'd taken care of his own business that night, and he wouldn't turn back. The next day, he would be a seaman.
In his room, he changed his clothes and stirred the fire. The thick drapes covering his window held in the light that rose from the burning embers. Too excited to sleep, he sat on his bed and thought about the next day. His mind couldn't settle on one image. He thought about the Shaftbury and all the years he'd helped Aga with her work. He thought about his days in school. From his bed, he could see the short pants and jackets still hanging in his closet—the uniforms he'd worn until, at age thirteen, he was allowed to wear trousers like the other boys his age. It seemed so long ago. He had grown up since then, since Georgie.
Georgie. The thought of the boy's name caused Alec to reach for the small airplane on his dresser. The plane had come unassembled in a kit. He and Georgie had spent hours looking through Alec's plane spotter cards, trying to decide which kit to buy. They finally settled on the Spitfire, after the real thing launched in 1936. A single-seater fighter plane, the Spitfire could zip through the clouds with cracking speed. Georgie had later gotten his own kit—a Hawker Hurricane. They would battle each other in the skies above Alec's bed. But one day, the Spitfire's propeller had snapped off when Georgie's Hurricane came soaring toward it. Alec told Georgie it was okay, that they could fix the plane, but Georgie still cried.
Other things in the room made him realize how much he had changed. The Beano comics with Lord Snooty, who lived with his guardian, Aunt Matilda, in Bunkerton Castle. The Magnet, a weekly paper carrying stories of schoolboy Billy Bunter. All of these things had once been so important to him. What had happened? When had he stopped wanting them?
He imagined Margaret Woodhams shaking her head and smiling her crooked smile. "Well, Alec, lad, you gave them up as most lads do when they move on to bigger dreams. If you don't give them up, you can never get beyond those boyhood fancies. Most boys want to be men, to discover new things and new paths. You've gone and done it, too. You've discovered the sea. Now walk your path."
He smiled. That was what he would do. Travel that path to the sea.
He lay down and tried to sleep. But too many memories kept rolling back to him: Captain Cairns and his offer, his father's hardness about his new job,...and the odd man in the white cap.