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Two of the women in the cell with Aggie were drunk. One had vomited and now slept in the stench of it. The other, reeking of gin, snored happily. In the bottom bunk a prostitute with dirty hair sneered at Aggie, who stood huddled against the iron bars in the gray, cold dawn.
"He ain't comin' for you," the prostitute taunted. "You're gonna be stuck in here like us working girls."
Aggie tried to ignore her. She felt soiled and frightened. Two other girls caught in the raid had been in the cell, but had been bailed out by their families before the night was half over. She'd thought Felix might send someone for her, but he hadn't.
At half-past five she'd told the jailer she wanted to make the telephone call she'd been promised. She'd called Pierce, Theo's chauffeur, who lived above the garage and had his own phone. If he didn't rouse Theo, she wasn't sure what she would do. Kate had sailed for Saint John this morning. If she tried to reach Rosalie she might get Mama instead.
"I know one hoity-toity girl like you got tossed out by her family when she got arrested," the prostitute said. "Works the street now, like me."
Aggie's head ached and she was shivering in her yellow silk dress. She couldn't bring herself to wrap up in the thin blanket from her cot. She was too afraid of the things it might harbor. Gripping the bars of the cell she stared at the distant door through which deliverance might come and felt hot tears slide down her cheeks. She had never felt so alone in her life.
The door at the end of the hall clattered open.
"Whirly... Whirly-something-or-other?" snapped a jailer checking a list in his hand. He came toward the cell. Eyed her. "That's you, I bet. Have a good time with us, did you, Little Miss Flapper?"
Keys clanked against metal. He swung the door open.
"Ain't it great what money does?" sniffed the prostitute.
Theo stood in an anteroom in front of a wooden counter. His fine hair lay smoothly against his head and he was impeccably dressed in spite of the hour. Worry loosened its hold on his features as he caught sight of her.
"You have the most extraordinary adventures." He kept his words nonchalant as her arms flew around him. He felt solid and safe in his gray overcoat. "Are you all right, Agatha Ann?"
"Of course." Aggie made the effort of tossing her hair back and giving a bright smile. She didn't want lectures, nor did she want to admit how frightened she'd been. "Parts of it were rather a lark, actually. But I'm ever so glad to be out. Thanks awfully. And I am sorry I got you up so early."
The arm not required for his cane gave a welcome hug. "That's what cousins are for. I'm afraid Pierce had a devil of a time waking me. Oh, well. All's well that ends without broken bones."
They both chuckled at the swaggering motto he'd coined in their youth.
"Come on," he said guiding her toward the door. "Let's get out of this place. There's a little cafe around the corner. Let's get something to eat."
"I'm not hungry."
"Coffee then. You look terrible."
"You're not supposed to say things like that to ladies."
"Ladies don't get arrested."
Aggie gave him a quick look, but Theo was smiling. He stopped at the car and took out one of the heavy white dusters used for protecting passengers' clothes.
"Put this over your dress. You look a bit gaudy for daytime. You're shivering, too."
Aggie nodded miserably and buttoned the duster. Now that she was safe she felt humiliated and stupid and unable to face her family yet; unable to face anyone, even Theo. His non-judgmental goodness was like a warm fire. They walked half a block through air that overnight held the threat of winter.
The cafe they turned into was deeper than it was wide, with booths along one wall and a long counter down the center. Grills sizzled with bacon and eggs and huge containers dispensed steaming coffee. Few of the customers wore suits. They slid into a just vacated booth and waited while a waitress cleared dishes.
"Order pancakes," Theo urged. "They always made you feel better when you scraped your knee. This isn't much different."
Aggie fought the moisture blurring at the corner of her eyes. Theo slid her a paper napkin.
"Oh, Theo. I feel such an idiot. I know it's my own fault. I do run around a lot."
"It's hard to live up to Kate."
His words startled her. She eyed him uncertainly.
Theo's smile twisted. "She's a paragon. Smart. Capable. Certain of what she wants out of life. I feel nothing short of inferior next to her. I shouldn't like to be her sister."
Aggie busied herself stirring sugar and cream into her coffee, wondering in amazement how Theo could know exactly how she felt. She heard him order two plates of pancakes.
"Kate accomplishes things," she said at last.
"And you, you gather life up in your arms. I envy that too."
His gentleness was almost more than Aggie could bear. She gulped some coffee, knowing she couldn't swallow and cry at the same time.
"You've got a crush on her, haven't you? Kate."
He smiled tolerantly. "Doesn't matter."
But Aggie could see from his face that it did. What was wrong with Kate, anyway? Theo was decent, trustworthy, undemanding — fun in his quiet way. Kate wasn't likely to do much better. She'd probably never flirted in her life.
"Will they put my name in the paper, do you suppose?"
"I gave them money not to."
"I gave a phony name anyway."
"Better than Sally Jones, I'll bet."
"Nan Whirlyderly.”
Theo burst out laughing. `Going to see Nanny Whirlyderly' had been their childhood euphemism for taking a pee. Her cousin had just managed to control himself when their pancakes arrived.
"Whoever your date was last night, I don't think he's much of a man to run out and leave you alone," Theo said carefully.
"We got separated." Aggie concentrated on the taste of the pancakes instead of the lie. "Anyway, he had other things to consider. He works for the man who owns the place. Please don't lecture me, Theo."
When they left the restaurant it was snowing, great fluffy flakes. Aggie turned the collar of the duster up, draped the yellow silk scarf at her neck around it and struck a pose. "Do I look madly fashionable? Perhaps I could start a trend."
Her spirits were higher. Theo was a peach of a cousin. Pierce tucked lap robes around them and on the way home Aggie told about having a job. Theo, who had never worked at all, asked questions and make her feel terribly clever.
"Let me do the talking," he said as they turned into her driveway. "Just bring me a seltzer as soon as we get inside."
Aggie glanced at him in concern, but there was mischief in his eyes and he looked almost robust. Not faded like he had since the war.
Outside the kitchen door he pulled his tie askew. Aggie opened the door and he stepped in after her, swaying on his cane.
"'Morning, Aunt Ginny. 'Morning, Peg." Theo produced a sheepish grin as two gazes suddenly fixed on them. He cleared his throat. "I'm in a bit of a jam, Aunt Ginny. I've come to fling myself on your mercy."
Aggie made a beeline toward the sink and got down seltzer. Mama had already absorbed the sight of her in Theo's overcoat and was opening her mouth in anger. Now manners forced her to wait.
"Why, Theo, what's the matter?"
Theo drank the fizzing seltzer with a grimace.
"I'm afraid I've made quite a fool of myself," he said tentatively. At the sink Peg crossed her arms and gave a cluck that might be sympathy or might be disapproval. "I, ah, had a bit too much to drink last night and I passed out."
Theo cleared his throat again. The kitchen was unbelievably quiet. Looking scandalized, Mama sat down across from him.
"The friends I was with went off and left me. Aggie saw me and got me to a back room and wouldn't leave until I sobered up enough to call Pierce—"
"Sobered up! I was afraid you'd never even wake up!" Aggie improvised.
"Then when Pierce finally got there she took me to a café and made me drink gallons of coffee." He made a face. "So if my mother should happen to ask, could you just say I'd come over here early and was walking down on the beach? They're used to me being rather erratic of late, I'm afraid."
"I'll do what you're asking, but only because it would spare your mother a great deal of worry, Theo. I'm shocked that you'd do such a thing. I want your promise — your solemn promise — that you'll not be so foolish again."
Theo bowed his golden head.
"I promise, Aunt Ginny."
Aggie helped him into his coat, appreciating for the first time how that small task had grown awkward for him. She walked with him to the front door.
"Thanks, Theo." She gave him a warm kiss. His thumb wiped a tear from her cheek.
"No broken bones," he teased, and Aggie felt an odd regret when he left.
***
Half an hour out of Salem it had started to snow. For most of the morning fine white needles had stung Kate's face. It had stopped now, and the knitted wool cap she wore no longer dripped. The air blew crisp and cold. She felt absurdly happy in her warm new boots and heavy jacket, experiencing the ocean in a time of year and disposition new to her. She leaned on the narrow brass rail of the stern pulpit watching glassy gray water rush past to rendezvous with sky the color of ice.
"You've sure seen more of the sea than most women who sail." Joe joined her. Billy had taken the wheel.
"I know. I was just thinking that I've never had so much fun in my life."
"Fun?" He gave a short laugh, wind whipping his curls. "Freezing. Blisters. Getting shot. You sure have strange ideas of fun. You'll have an interesting scar to explain to a husband someday, that's for certain."
She laughed, embarrassed at the thought of a man examining her nakedness. Such things had been only an abstraction to her until now, next to Joe who was unmistakably flesh and blood. In his good clothes he looked not so different from Theo and other young men she knew, yet standing this close she knew he wasn't like them at all. His presence reached beyond the boundaries of his body. Working together, she wasn't aware of it. Standing here with his sleeve touching hers, she was.
He had grown as silent as she was. Kate could feel him looking at her.
"I'm reading a book you might know." A strange note had lodged in his voice. "Babbit?"
"Lewis. Yes. What do you think of it?"
"I can't say I like the poor bastard, but now and then I guess I do pity him. So blinded by wanting things that he's living a life — well, he might as well be in a cage."
"You don't think we're all like that to a degree? That Babbit's character is just an exaggeration?"
He considered a moment. "We're supposed to rise above the base things in our nature."
They argued the point, enjoying it, while the sky closed in and whitecaps appeared in the water. Kate had never sailed this late in the year, or in a storm, and the prospect produced a leaden weight in her stomach. The engine Joe had installed, and which she had resented, reassured her now with its familiar rumble. It moved them north at a steady pace and made them less vulnerable in rough seas than they'd be under sail.
The temperature dropped. By dinnertime she could feel the cold through the sweater and heavy jacket she'd bought at a men's supply store.
"Kate, I want you to take the first watch tonight," Joe announced as he reappeared from checking the engine. Grease streaked one cheek. "I expect we're in for some weather."
***
Three hours into manning the wheel she felt the sea roughen. She hoped Joe was asleep below and wouldn't waken. She hoped he wouldn't come rushing to take over even if the weather began to turn bad. It was true her heart was beating closer to her throat than it usually did, but they still were at least fifteen hours from Saint John. One person couldn't possibly take the wheel for the rest of the way. And Joe seldom let her face the Fundy tides; he'd never let her spell him there.
With conscious effort she made herself relax. The rhythm of the waves began to reach her and she moved with them. Exhilaration crept in. There was a wild wonder to the night and the cold and the dip and swell of the waves; to feeling infinitely small as the Folly danced through the universe guided by light houses.
Clovis strolled back to check on her and she smiled. "Some adventure, isn't it?"
He blinked, as puzzled by her as he'd ever been, and scratched his head. Kate felt her nose drip from the cold.
Her cheeks grew numb. The wind picked up until a few yards off the boat she could see small whitecaps. She spread her feet for better balance and checked the compass constantly, anxious for the light on the southern end of Grand Manan.
"Are you frozen?"
She hadn't realized how desperately she longed to be relieved until she heard Joe's voice. He wore a watch cap pulled low on his head, and the collar of his jacket was turned up. It was just after midnight.
"No need to answer," he said. "I can feel how it's dropped. Get below. Where are we?"
"Nearing Grand Manan, I think, but I haven't seen their light."
Below, the small stateroom with its mahogany paneling was a haven of warmth. Billy still slept as though dead on the upper bunk. Joe hadn't roused him. Removing only her boots Kate slid into the bunk below, covering herself with two woolen blankets and doubling the bottom of one to warm her feet.
It was the cold which finally woke her. It penetrated blankets and coat. She tried to ignore it, not quite cold enough to shiver, yet too aware of it to sleep again. She got up and stamped her feet. Eerie silence met her ears. There were tales of ghost ships that drifted for years with crew all dead, and she wondered uneasily whether any of those crews had frozen to death. The sight that met her when she went above made her gasp.
Snow lay as thick as dust on Joe's head and coat, crusting his lashes as it slanted into them. Spray came over the side of the boat leaving cobwebs of ice on shrouds and ratlines. The rocky shore she saw in the distance was shrouded in white.
"It looks worse than it is," Joe encouraged, eyes pinched from the rawness. "Visibility's fair. The fuel line froze, but it looks like Clovis has gotten it thawed."
He returned the other man's wave and pulled on a cord that went below to engage the starter. On the second pull the engine sputtered and caught. Kate watched his shoulders sag with relief, and she realized, slowly, that he had switched shifts with her to spare her the bitterest cold of the night.
"Let me relieve you," she offered with more conscience than confidence. She could tell by the rocking swells that they had hit the Fundy tides.
He eyed her wearily. "If you're willing, I could do to warm up. I know Billy can't handle her, and you've got a surer touch than Clovis. Wake me in an hour."
She waited two. The storm was slowing them. For the first time ever, she heard Joe, at the wheel again, swearing steadily as he tried to make headway against waves that occasionally broke over their bow. In the afternoon, when they should have been safely in Saint John, the waves abated only to have snow descend like a curtain, cutting off vision. They caught the flash of the light at Wallace Cove, a faint yellow smudge in the whiteness, but missed the one at Beaver Harbor — or were disoriented.
Billy's pale face was strained. Kate knew he was frightened. So was she. Joe kidded them that the weather was nothing you didn't see on a fishing boat, where the pay was worse, but he didn't let anyone else take the wheel for more than five minutes.
By three in the afternoon it was as dark as dusk. Then, through the diffusion of snow and diminishing light, came a glow, the lamp known as the Three Sisters. It marked the entrance to Saint John Harbor. Kate felt quivering muscles relax as the Folly's crew found themselves in the company of other vessels. A few intrepid freighters were heading out, but most craft were making for safety as they were.
"Wait here," Joe ordered tersely when they had docked. "I'll see to the warehouse."
She nodded, grateful to retreat to the cabin, which if not really warm was dry and protected. Shaking herself clear of snow she sat down on the end of the bunk, meaning only to rest. She jerked awake as a hand pressed her shoulder. Joe was back, droplets of moisture glittering on his watch cap.
"Get your travel bag," he said urging her to her feet.
"Why? Where?" The fragrance of hot chowder flooded in from the galley.
"We'd be crazy to start back out in this. They'll load us first thing tomorrow. You and I pull the lion's share of time at the helm. We both need a decent night's sleep. Clovis and Billy can watch things here. We'll get a room at a hotel the warehouse clerk recommends over on St. James. You can have the bed and I'll sleep on the floor to make sure you're not bothered."