18

For two days and nights she tossed, sick and wretched in the captain’s bunk. Brandy and water and a dry biscuit were the only sustenance which passed her lips for she refused all other food which the cabin boy brought to her. Of Matt Linton she saw nothing, but she cursed him each time she retched or staggered to look out of the small square window and saw the surging water and the far horizon and not a sight of land.

Then the following morning the boy knocked and calling for him to enter, he came in carrying a jug of hot water and clean towels and then returned a few minutes later with a bowl of hot soup.

‘Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am. Captain Linton’s compliments and he says will you prepare yourself.’

‘Prepare myself?’ She stared at him dully.

‘Aye, ma’am. Today’s the day for Master Toby’s burial. Sails are already scandalized.’

‘Scandalized?’

‘Aye, ma’am. It’s tradition. Sails are hanging loose in the buntlines. It’s the way we honour the dead. If you take a look yonder, you’ll see that ships nearby are flying flags at half-mast out of respect.’

‘But they don’t know Master Toby,’ she whispered as she looked out and saw several ships, schooners and brigantines, with their ensigns at half-mast.

‘No ma’am, but they know Captain Linton and he’s well respected.’

‘Is he?’ she said curtly. ‘Thank you. Tell Captain Linton I’ll be up shortly.’

When she came up on deck the air was sharp and cold and she took several deep breaths. The cabin had been hot and stuffy and she realized that she might well have felt better if she had dared to come up earlier.

The crew were all assembled. Matt looked pale and haggard she thought, and she wondered where he had slept as she had taken his bunk. She took her place at his side and he nodded to her. ‘I trust you are feeling better.’

That cabin boy, she fumed. He must have told him how sick I was.

‘It takes a little time to earn your sea legs.’ His voice was low as if it was an effort to talk to her. ‘Another day and you’d even enjoy a sea voyage.’

She shook her head. ‘It’s been very rough. I thought several times that we were about to capsize.’

He permitted himself a slight smile. ‘Smooth as a millpond, a cat’s paw only.’ His smile vanished. ‘A perfect day for a burial.’

She lifted her eyes and it was then that she saw the platform attached to the bulwarks and strapped to it was a white shroud, wrapped in heavy sailcloth. She started to shake and Matt took her by the arm.

‘Nearly all over,’ he murmured. ‘Bear up if you can.’ He called to a seaman. ‘Bosun. Is all ready?’

‘Aye, aye, sir.’

‘Parson White. Be so good as to start the service.’

A more unlikely parson Annie had never seen. He was a rough looking fellow with a pock-marked face and a patch over one eye, and wearing a ragged, striped shirt beneath a fancy embroidered waistcoat. On his head he wore a soft woolly cap which he pulled off as he stood forward; but when he opened his mouth he had a deep stentorian voice, well suited for a pulpit.

‘Dear Lord. Bless this thine servant, Tobias Linton. He was a fine man as we well know, and though he was but a landlubber, he was a good one.’ He raised his voice, getting into full swing. ‘And now his great storm has passed and he is coming in to shelter in thine harbour.’

Matt raised his head and stared at him in his good eye. Parson White coughed and cleared his throat and started to sing a hymn, his voice deep and rich, the crew joining in lustily.

When they’d finished, Matt let go of her arm and stepped forward, his head bowed. He waited for a moment as if composing himself, then lifting his head spoke clearly with only a trace of huskiness to betray him. ‘We brought nothing into this world and it is certain we can carry nothing out of it. The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away. Blessed be the Name of the Lord.’

‘Amen.’

‘Commit the body to the deep.’

The inboard end of the platform was raised and Annie closed her eyes. The white shroud sliding into the water was nothing to do with Toby. Toby was back at the cottage, laughing, joking, his dark eyes merry and waiting for her.

* * *

‘May I join you for supper?’ She had left the door open to let in some air and Matt stood in the doorway.

‘It’s your cabin, Captain. Your ship.’

He cleared the table of charts and instruments which had been left littered there since she had first joined the ship, and called the boy to bring supper. A white cloth was laid with silver cutlery, two engraved glasses with the initial L carved on them and a matching decanter filled with red wine.

The boy brought in a tureen of soup, followed by a large platter which held a boiled fowl surrounded by dumplings.

She ate a little soup, but then looked warily at the cutlery. ‘I’m not very hungry,’ she said to hide her confusion. There seemed to be an uncommon amount of knives and forks.

He carved the bird and with a quick glance at her picked up a chicken leg with his fingers and started to eat. ‘You must excuse me, Mrs Hope, with my common seaman’s manners, but I don’t stand on ceremony whilst I am at sea.’

She too picked up a leg. ‘Then why bother with all of this.’ She waved the leg at the table.

‘I like to at least observe standards even if I don’t necessarily follow them, and besides its good for the lad. He might one day better himself and he would at least know which knife and fork went where.’

He’s laughing at me again. She tore into the meat with her teeth. It was good. She hadn’t realized just how hungry she was.

‘I have a proposition to put to you, Mrs Hope. I know that we have had our differences, but those I think stem from our similarities.’

‘Similarities!’ She took a long draught of wine from the glass. ‘I think that we have none!’

‘We both have a quick temper and can be rude. There. I can admit it, why can’t you?’ There was a sparkle in his eyes, a challenge.

‘I don’t admit that I’m rude – but if I ever am, I’m only ever rude to you. Never anyone else. You’re the only one that has ever deserved it.’ I’m lying, she thought. I was never rude to Alan or Francis. I never dared. I was too scared. Scared of getting a beating. So why do I behave this way with him? Why does he rile me so much?

He raised his eyebrows and shrugged. ‘Very well. Do you want to hear what I have to say or not?’

She gulped some more wine. ‘Why not? There’s nothing to lose by it.’

Nothing to lose. That’s what she and Toby had said. Tears came into her eyes and she blinked them away. And now Toby was gone. They had both lost.

‘Are you all right?’ His voice had become more gentle. ‘I’m sure all of this has been a strain for you.’

She swallowed and brushed away the tears. ‘Aye. It has. And now I must think again about my life, which way it’ll turn. Sometimes – sometimes—,’

‘Yes?’

‘Nothing. It’s nothing.’ I was so happy, she thought, and now I’m so full of misery again, just like before. Sometimes I wonder what life is about.

‘I need someone else to organise the running on shore now that Toby – now that Toby has gone. Will you do it?’ He was matter-of-fact, emotionless, and kept his eyes on her glass as he poured her more wine.

She stared at him. ‘Me? But I don’t know how. I don’t know the team or where they go.’

‘Josh can tell you all of that.’

‘Then why can’t Josh do the running. Why do you need me. I might have other arrangements to make.’

‘Josh can’t keep accounts or read, and though names are not written down, numbers are, each team member has a number and he or she is allocated a certain amount of goods. It needs someone with a sharp mind to keep a tally.’

‘I suppose I should be flattered.’ He doesn’t know that I’ve only just learnt to read and write, she thought smugly.

‘Flattery is the last thing I would think of Mrs Hope, especially where you are concerned.’ He got up from the table and she did also. ‘You have a few days to think about it. We’re homeward bound. You can give me your answer when we reach port.’

He gave her a small bow. Well you can tell he was born a gentleman, she thought scathingly, his manners can’t be faulted, but I know that it’s an act, he doesn’t mean any of it.

‘By the way.’ He turned towards her. The cabin was small and he was very close, almost brushing her skirt. ‘What were your intentions now that Toby isn’t around to – er, take care of you.’

Her eyes flashed. What was he implying. ‘You thought I stayed around for what I could get out of Toby. You thought I was his mistress! His doxy! Someone like you just wouldn’t understand what there was between us.’

He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her towards him, his face flushed and close to hers. ‘Make no mistake, Mrs Hope. I understand perfectly about my brother. But I don’t for one moment expect ever to understand you.’

They glared at each other, their eyes wide, and she caught her breath as she saw his lips so close to hers. She felt the powerful strength as his arms came around her and enfolded her in a crushing embrace. His mouth was demanding and passionate as he sought hers, his hand on her head clasping her hair. She closed her eyes and responded, for a moment only. Then reason took over, some judgement of mind which she had never before experienced – before she had only a devious instinct for survival. She pushed him away, hitting him on the chest with her fists.

‘Don’t treat me like some street woman that you’ve picked up,’ she snarled.

‘How should I treat you?’ His smile was scornful as he pulled away from her and headed for the cabin door. ‘Like a lady that you’re trying to be and not the alley cat that you are?’

In anger at his words she picked up a knife from the table and held it aloft as if to strike, and he lifted his arm to parry, but as the blade glittered, another memory came to mind and with a small sob she lowered it.

‘I meant you no harm, Captain,’ she whispered. ‘I’m sorry.’

He looked at her and opened his mouth as if about to speak, then with his hand on the door latch stopped for a moment. ‘Forgive me, Mrs Hope. I can’t think what came over me. It’s been a wretched day, emotions are running high. Shall we forget this little scene ever happened?’

She lifted her head. ‘It’s forgotten, Captain. It was nothing.’

* * *

But she couldn’t forget it. Not the look in his eyes nor the touch of his mouth on hers nor the salty smell of the sea in his beard. She could taste it as she licked her lips and as she lay in the bunk at night she felt again his arms around her.

As she thought of him, other images came into her mind. The sight of Toby sitting with her, reading with her, his long brown hair falling over his eyes, and his mouth moving, telling her something.

‘What is it? What must I do?’ She paced the floor of the cabin as the ship cleaved its way through the seas back to port.

She left the cabin, wanting to clear her head, and climbed the companion-way to the upper deck and felt the wind on her face and heard the rush of it as it swept and filled the sails. The sky was dark with a million stars and as she stood, her head lifted up gazing into space, Matt Linton appeared beside her.

‘I couldn’t sleep.’ She explained her presence. ‘I came up for air.’

‘You should have called for someone. It isn’t safe for you on deck alone. The winds could freshen, you could so easily be swept overboard.’

‘And then I’d join Toby,’ she whispered.

‘No. We’re near enough to land, your body would be swept to shore, Toby’s won’t. He’s weighted down and I did soundings for the deepest water, that’s why we’ve been so long at sea. This is a shallow sea, but Toby won’t come to shore.’ His eyes looked sad. ‘I made sure of that. Not ever.’

‘I’m so afraid,’ she said. ‘He’s in the dark.’

He looked up at the stars, then he turned to her. ‘No,’ he said quietly. ‘He’s in the light.’

They stood silently, their animosity forgotten as their sorrow united them. Then softly he spoke. ‘I shall tell my father he died of a fever whilst he was taking a trip with me. He need never know what really happened.’ He swallowed hard. ‘I’ll tell him that we couldn’t bring his body back. He’ll understand – or think he does, the reason why.’

‘Your father? You’ll go to him?’ She didn’t know why she had picked up the idea that Matt and his father never met.

‘Yes. He’s a hard, unreasonable man and there’s no love lost between us, but he still deserves to be told of his son’s death. Also there’s a housekeeper and man who’ll want to know, they became fond of him. They came later, after Mrs Trott. We shall dock the day after tomorrow. I’ll hire a horse and go straight away. I can take you as far as Hessle,’ he added.

‘No,’ she said quickly. ‘I won’t go back just yet.’ She had finally made up her mind and she’d remembered what it was that Toby had said to her. ‘I have some business to attend to in Hull,’ she said. ‘When I’ve dealt with that, then I’ll come and I’ll tell you what I’ve decided. I’ll tell you if I’m in with you or if I’m moving on.’

He looked annoyed as if his plans had been dashed, as if someone else had had the bad manners to make a decision without consulting him.

‘As you wish,’ he said coldly. ‘I’ll meet you at Toby’s cottage in four days time.’

They said goodnight and she returned to the cabin and lay down on the bunk. She wouldn’t sleep again, not now that she had to think of the day after tomorrow. The day after tomorrow was the day she would brave the streets of Hull and risk the danger of being recognized. The day she would go and search for her children.