The ocean was becoming very rough. Jenny clutched the hand rail tightly as she headed up the outside stairs towards the observation area on deck eight. She was supposed to remind anyone up there that there was a lecture in the lounge. Not that she expected to find anyone. With the stormy seas and falling temperatures, night time strolls on the open deck were not what they had once been. Karl’s lecture on the early exploration of Antarctica inside the warm observation lounge, with bar service, was a much more inviting prospect. The lecture focused on the lives and gruesome deaths of the explorers, and Jenny expected Vera would be in the front row, pen in hand. There was something niggling the back of her mind about Vera, and she couldn’t figure out just what it was. She liked the older woman a lot, but there was something …
The ship lurched again and Jenny’s feet slipped from under her. She reached out a hand to grab the railing, but another sudden change in the ship’s motion broke her grip. With a yell of pain as her wrist twisted, she fell down the last few stairs, crashing into the metal deck below.
Her bum hurt. One leg was twisted in a most uncomfortable fashion and her wrist hurt like crazy. Oh yes, the deck was wet with sea spray that was seeping slowly through her clothes.
Jenny didn’t swear often. Only in moments of extreme stress. For the third time since she boarded the Cape Adare – she let out a loud exclamation.
‘Shit!’
‘Are you all right?’
The voice came from somewhere above the expensive looking hiking shoes that had suddenly appeared on the deck just a few inches in front of her. She looked up.
‘Oh.’
‘Let me help you.’
A strong hand reached down to her. Nursing her injured wrist, Jenny placed her good hand in his, and allowed him to pull her to her feet.
‘Are you hurt?’
‘I don’t think so.’
He was still holding her hand, his strong fingers clasped around hers to steady her. His touch wasn’t having quite the effect he was probably hoping for. In fact, quite the opposite.
‘I guess I still have to work on my sea legs,’ Jenny said.
‘I guess so,’ the brow above those disconcertingly blue eyes creased in concern as he looked her up and down. ‘Are you sure you’re all right, that was a nasty fall.’
‘I’m sure, thanks.’ As she spoke, the ship lurched again. Jenny was thrown against the ship’s railing. Instinctively she grabbed for it with both hands, then yelled as searing pain shot from her injured wrist all the way up her arm.
‘It’s all right, I’ve got you.’
He did. His arm was around her, steadying her as she cradled her injured arm against her stomach.
‘I think I must have hurt my wrist in the fall,’ her voice sounded a bit like the whimper of an injured animal.
‘You think? Come on, let’s get you to the sick bay.’
‘I can manage on my own …’ Jenny started to protest.
‘You probably can, but why should you, when I’m here to help?’
Keeping one arm firmly around her, he pushed open the heavy door as if it weighed nothing, and led her inside. The lobby area outside the observation lounge wasn’t really any more stable than the deck outside. The thick blue carpet just offered better grip. A few hardy souls were heading for the lounge and Karl’s lecture. They stopped in surprise as Jenny was helped though the door.
‘Can someone please find a crew member? Ask them to find the doctor. We’ll meet him in the sick bay.’
He brushed aside the sudden wave of questions.
‘It’s nothing serious. Jenny’s hurt her wrist. We just need the doctor to check it as a precaution.’
He remembered her name!
As if by magic, a few seconds later they were in the lift and descending slowly and silently towards deck two and the sick bay. The lift, like the rest of the ship, was rocking in a most disconcerting manner, but Jenny braced herself in the corner.
‘I don’t know your name,’ she said.
Before he could answer, the lift stopped and the doors slid open. The ship’s doctor was standing there, waiting for them.
‘What happened?’ he asked as between the two of them they guided Jenny from the lift into the nearby sick bay.
‘She fell on the outer stairs.’
The sick bay was bright and roomy. To Jenny’s left as they entered, were two small alcoves which would serve as rooms for patients. They had curtains, rather than doors. The curtains were pulled back to reveal empty beds. To the right was another curtained alcove. This was the treatment room. As the door closed behind Jenny, a familiar figure emerged from the doctor’s office.
‘Jenny! Are you all right?’ Vera’s face was creased with concern.
‘I’m fine. It’s just my wrist.’ Jenny allowed herself to be settled on to a bed. ‘Honestly, it’s no big deal.’
‘You let William be the judge of that,’ Vera said.
‘William?’
‘That’s me,’ the doctor gently took her wrist and turned it over to examine it. ‘Can you move your fingers?’
She could but it hurt.
‘Just a sprain,’ the doctor pronounced. ‘I’ll strap it for you. And we probably should put something on that scratch.’
‘Scratch?’ Jenny had no idea what he was talking about.
‘Your cheek, dear.’ Vera offered helpfully.
Now she thought about it, Jenny became aware that her cheek was smarting. She touched it gently and saw a small stain of blood on her fingers as she took them away. ‘How did that happen?’
‘I think you scraped your face against the edge of the steps,’ her rescuer offered. His lips had curved into a slight smile that made his face even more handsome. The sight of her blood had not caused him to suddenly sprout fangs, which further disproved Lian’s vampire theory.
Silence settled on the small group in the sick bay as the doctor tended to Jenny’s cheek.
‘Well, I think you’re in safe hands now.’ Her rescuer was leaving!
‘Thank you for helping me …’ Jenny paused, giving him a chance to tell her his name.
‘You are very welcome,’ he said as he vanished.
Jenny stared after him.
‘Why won’t you tell me your name?’ she asked the closing door.
The owner’s suite was by far the most luxurious place on board the Cape Adare, designed and outfitted for people with money, who appreciated the very best of everything.
It was U-shaped and spanned the full width of the ship, as did the balcony on the other side of the huge picture windows. The bathroom which sat in one arm of the U was small, but the towels were thick and soft. The bed was the largest on the ship, much bigger than even the captain’s bunk, and it was liberally dotted with thick feather pillows. The carpet in the cabin was a similar blue to that in the public areas, but it was deeper and richer. There was a sofa, a comfortable arm chair and a dining table with four chairs. A closer look at the furniture would reveal the subtle but sturdy fixtures that held the pieces to the floor, to keep it stable in even the roughest seas.
As well as the standard tea and coffee making facilities, there was a bar fridge, well stocked, and some fine crystal glasses. Once again, all were suitably fixed in place with soft leather straps. Except for one fine crystal glass, which was in the hand of the man who stood on the balcony.
He hadn’t really noticed the quality of the crystal. Such things meant little to him. He had, however, noticed the quality of the dark amber liquid inside the glass, and he sipped it slowly, savouring the taste. The movement of the ship caused the dark amber liquid inside the glass to slosh about, but not a drop was spilled. The passenger had good balance – but he also had one hand on the railing that lined not only this balcony, but every part of the ship. One hand for you, one hand for the ship. It was a seafaring maxim, and this passenger had taken good note of it. He wasn’t about to fall down any stairs.
‘Why didn’t I tell her my name?’ he asked the empty night.
The answer was simple – habit. The desire to preserve his privacy had become a need for anonymity so strong that giving out his name was almost like breaking a sacred taboo.
He could simply have told her his name was Christopher, which it was. He might even have said Christopher Walker. She would never have recognised it. But no one called him Christopher. He had been Kit since he was a boy. Would she know who Kit Walker was? Possibly. It was better that he kept his secret.
He took another sip of scotch, feeling the spirit gently warm his throat. They were a long way south now, it was getting colder. The wind on his face was so cold it was almost painful. He welcomed it, just as he welcomed the images flashing inside his head and the desire that was making his fingers twitch.
He turned back inside the cabin. Closing out the cold and the wind and the night. On the starboard side of his cabin, a selection of boxes and packages had been stowed, securely fixed against the sort of weather they were now beginning to encounter. Only one of those packages had been opened. He’d done that during the quiet hours at the island. He’d run his hands over the dark polished wood that was so familiar to him it was like a part of his body – but had of late been a stranger. He’d even gone so far as to take it onto the balcony, ready for him. But when they’d departed the island, he’d packed it away safely again. He still couldn’t take that step.
In another couple of days, after they had crossed the wild southern ocean, the seas would become almost glassy. At that point, should he wish, he could open all those boxes. Although he’d gone to great pains to bring everything he might need, he hadn’t really thought he would unwrap those packages. It had been two years since …
He swallowed the last of the scotch. Two years was a long time. He put the glass down and stared at his hands, turning them slowly over to study the lines on his palms. They were such ordinary hands. What if he couldn’t do it anymore? What if his hands had lost their magic when his heart broke?
No. He wouldn’t believe that. He couldn’t believe that. This trip was supposed to free him from that terrible prison of his own making. He closed his eyes dreading the darkness that had haunted him for so long. But this time, the darkness didn’t come. For the first time in so many agonising months, there was light waiting for him. A soft golden light. Warm and welcoming. And in the light, he saw a girl who talked to dolphins. His fingers began to tingle. Without pausing to ask why or how … he welcomed the gift and ripped open one of the packages.
‘He’s right above us, you know,’ Vera said in a conspiratorial tone.
‘Who is?’ Jenny asked, although she knew very well who Vera was talking about. He was on her mind too.
‘Your mysterious friend and rescuer,’ Vera said. ‘Now, how do you have your tea?’
Jenny sank back into the sofa with a sigh. Her wrist was firmly strapped, and the scratch on her face has been bathed and pronounced not life-threatening. Vera had insisted that Jenny accompany her to her suite, for a restorative cup of tea. On the way, they had bumped into Lian, sitting quietly in a corner and looking a little sad. Vera had gathered the girl up as they passed, declaring that the three of them would all enjoy a nice girlie chat and a good cup of tea. There had also been mention of biscuits.
‘How nice, to be rescued like that,’ Lian sighed. ‘Although it is a shame he’s not a vampire.’
‘Never mind,’ Jenny said, grinning. ‘Maybe next time.’
‘You know, he still could be a criminal,’ Vera said, clattering mugs around as she made their drinks. ‘Otherwise, why didn’t he tell you his name?’
‘There could be a perfectly good reason,’ Jenny leaped to his defence.
‘Such as?’ Lian challenged.
‘Maybe …’ Jenny mentally groped for an answer. ‘Maybe he’s famous. A famous actor …’
‘But we’d recognise him!’ Lian protested.
‘An author then. Someone we might have heard of, but wouldn’t recognise.’
Behind Jenny, Vera suddenly dropped a cup.
‘Let me help you,’ Lian got to her feet, staggering just a little with the movement of the ship as she went to help.
Vera’s suite was about three times the size of the tiny crew cabins, and far more luxurious. Jenny sank back into the seat, enjoying the chance to just relax, and let someone else do the organising.
‘By the way,’ she said. ‘Why were you down with the doctor when I arrived, Vera? You weren’t feeling seasick were you?’
‘Good heavens, Jenny. Do I look like the sort who gets seasick?’
Jenny had to admit she didn’t.
‘I was having a lovely chat to him about the effect of extreme cold on the libido.’
Jenny raised an eyebrow as Lian stifled a giggle. Was Vera worried that the cold was going to turn the men on board into sex-crazed monsters … or maybe it was herself she was worried about.
‘And what did he say?’ Jenny had to ask as she accepted a steaming cup from Lian.
‘He didn’t seem to have much information,’ Vera shook her head in puzzlement. ‘I shall have to google it.’
‘Well, hopefully, it won’t deter Jenny’s rescuer,’ Lian said grinning.
‘Stop it!’ Jenny protested, but she couldn’t stop her eyes from glancing upward towards the deck above and the owner’s cabin, where right now, the mysterious passenger might be …
It was a good thing her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. She didn’t altogether like where the conversation was going.
Vera opened the door.
‘Come in Anna,’ she stepped aside to let the expedition leader’s wife enter the room.
‘Hi, Jenny,’ Anna said. ‘How are you? The doctor said I’d find you here. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help earlier. I was off nursing some of the seasick passengers.’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Jenny said. ‘I imagine you and the doctor have got more than enough on your plate, without worrying about me.’
‘We soon will, I think,’ Anna said.
‘What do you mean?’ Vera asked.
‘Well, I guess it’s all right to tell you,’ Anna said. ‘It will be all over the ship soon.’
‘What will?’
‘We’re changing our heading,’ Anna said. ‘Because of the storm.’
Jenny nodded; there had been a lot of discussion earlier that day about a huge storm tearing through the ocean south east of their position.
‘We’re going around it?’ It seemed the sensible thing to do.
‘Not exactly,’ Anna hesitated, then shrugged. ‘You may as well know now … we’re heading into it.’
‘What!’ Vera and Lian asked in unison.
‘Why?’ Jenny added.
‘There’s a yacht. A lone sailor on some round the world quest. He’s in trouble. The yacht is sinking and we’re the only ship close enough to attempt a rescue.’
‘Isn’t that dangerous?’ Lian asked in a shaky voice. ‘Surely the captain wouldn’t risk this ship and everyone on board for just one man?’
‘The Cape Adare is big enough to handle the storm,’ Anna assured her. ‘There’s no real risk. There’s also no real choice. The International Law of the Sea requires us to go to his rescue.’
‘And it’s the right thing to do,’ Vera said.
‘Yes. It is,’ Anna agreed. ‘We have to at least try to reach him.’
‘And he’s …’ Jenny had a feeling she already knew the answer.
‘Right in the heart of the storm.’