The mood in the lounge was exuberant. The Cape Adare was rapidly drawing away from the storm. The ocean outside was far from smooth, but compared to the previous twenty-four hours, it was a millpond. No one had fallen over or dropped a glass for at least half an hour. But better than all that was the news that the rescued sailor was doing well. A short time ago, the captain had announced that their new guest was recovering from his ordeal. He’d be in the sick bay for a day or two under the doctor’s care, but would soon be up and about. The captain had thanked everyone for their understanding and patience.
Jenny glanced around the room, noting the animated faces and lively conversation. It wasn’t just that the pre-dinner cocktails were flowing. It was as if everyone felt a little pride at what their ship had done. As if they had played some small part in the rescue. And why not, she thought. That was a totally understandable and human reaction. There was, of course, one person who wasn’t joining in. The mysterious passenger from cabin 642 was nowhere to be seen, as usual. Jenny wondered if he even knew about the rescue. He must. The whole ship knew. Not even someone who sought solitude could have ignored the event.
Perhaps tonight, now that the seas had dropped, she would go to the upper deck. While most of the passengers were celebrating after dinner, he might just …
‘Hello, dear,’ Vera’s voice interrupted her thoughts. ‘It’s good news about that poor man.’
‘It certainly is Vera,’ Jenny replied.
‘I wonder when he’d feel up to talking to me,’ Vera said thoughtfully. ‘There are so many questions I want to ask him. About what happened. What it was like out there.’
Jenny felt a flash of something approaching annoyance. While she found Vera refreshingly quirky, she doubted the rescued yachtsman would feel the same. ‘I imagine he probably doesn’t want to talk about it …’ she started to say.
‘Nonsense,’ Vera said firmly. ‘People who set out on adventures like that always want to talk about it.’
Jenny wasn’t so sure, but she was prevented from commenting by the dinner bell.
‘Are you coming to dinner?’ Vera asked.
‘Soon.’ Jenny said.
‘If William is there, he may have some news about that poor man’s condition,’ Vera remarked as she set off in the direction of the restaurant.
Jenny watched her go, shaking her head. She wished she could remember what it was that made Vera seem somehow familiar. Whatever it was, thinking about it wasn’t going to bring it back. Nodding hello to a few other passengers who were also heading towards the restaurant, Jenny made her way to the internet café. Now would be a good time to send that e-mail to her family. To admit she wasn’t coming to Christmas dinner. She also had to confess about her job. But she’d do that in person when she got back.
She took a seat and logged in. She opened a new e-mail and stared at it for a few seconds before putting her fingers on the keyboard to begin typing.
It took her several attempts, but at last she hit the send key. That done, she decided she needed a bit of fresh air and headed upstairs to the open deck.
As she stepped through the door, the chilly wind grabbed her jacket and tore at it, threatening to pull it from her body. It was cold, and the storm wasn’t giving up easily. Jenny considered going back to her cabin for some warmer clothing, then decided against it. After what that poor sailor had been through, the least she could do was handle a bit of a cold wind. A freezing wind, she corrected herself a few seconds later as she pulled her light jacket closer around her. She looked towards the stern. There should be some shelter behind the ship’s funnel.
There was, and Jenny found herself enjoying both the solitude and the fresh air. The white tipped waves swirled in the ship’s wake. Above her, the storm clouds were beginning to scatter, creating a kaleidoscope of black and blue and violet and green as they raced before the wind. Every few seconds, a shaft of sunlight would break through, only to be swallowed up again as the clouds swept on. Jenny took several deep breaths of air, colder and cleaner than any she had ever tasted before. Perhaps the spectre of death that had hovered so close just a short time ago had heightened her perceptions – but she could feel and taste and touch the beauty all around her.
The clouds directly above her suddenly parted, allowing a broad band of golden light to stream in from the sun above. In the midst of that beam of light, two shining silver shapes soared above the restless surface of the water.
‘Wandering albatross,’ Jenny whispered.
The birds rode the wind with ease and grace, their great wings stretched wide to guide their flight. Jenny held her breath, waiting, but the albatross had no need to flap their wings as lesser birds do. In perfect synchronisation, they rose and fell with the wind, perfectly at home riding the invisible waves of air.
Jenny felt tears prick her eyes as she watched them.
‘At length did cross an Albatross, through the fog it came; as if it had been a Christian soul, we hailed it in God’s name.’ The deep voice quoted Coleridge softly beside her.
Jenny didn’t need to turn around to see who it was. She was as aware of his presence as the birds soaring above her were aware of each other. She didn’t speak, nor did her companion.
The birds drew closer to the ship. Jenny could almost imagine her own reflection in the dark soft circles of their eyes. And behind her, another shape. A tall dark figure complementing her, as the two great birds did each other. Wingtips almost touching, hearts beating together, the two albatross lifted effortlessly back into the sky.
‘The wandering albatross can fly for years without returning to land,’ Jenny said. ‘They mate for life. Imagine that, just the two of them, alone on the ocean. Needing and wanting nothing else.’
‘How lonely it must be when one is left behind.’
He spoke so softly that she barely heard the words, but the pain, the immense sadness and loss in the sound of his voice made her breath catch in her throat. Jenny dragged her eyes away from the birds to look at him. He was staring out over the ocean, his face a mask of pain. She wanted to reach out and touch him. Her hand had barely begun to move, when he spoke again.
‘I wonder if any of them ever get a second chance.’
‘I’m sure they do,’ Jenny replied softly.
‘It would seem to be a betrayal of the first …’ She knew he wasn’t talking about the birds any more.
‘No one who truly loved would want to see their loved one alone.’
The passenger from cabin 642 turned away from the birds, his eyes shining with unshed tears as he looked down at Jenny. She felt his grief wash over her. She took his unresisting hand in hers.
He started at her touch. Jenny didn’t let go. She held his hand until he nodded slowly. In the sky above them, the two albatross wheeled and turned away from the ship and the two people holding hands as they watched them go.
The clouds closed out the shaft of sunlight, and Jenny shivered.
‘You should go back inside,’ she was told. ‘You’re not dressed for this.’
‘Are you coming?’
‘No. I’ll stay a few more minutes.’ He was better protected against the cold in a heavy woollen jumper.
Jenny nodded and reluctantly turned away. She had taken only a single step, when a voice halted her.
‘By the way, my name is Christopher Walker. People call me Kit.’
Jenny glanced back. He was smiling, but it was the saddest smile she had ever seen.
‘It’s nice to meet you, Kit.’ She turned away and left him standing in the shelter of the tall grey funnel.
Kit felt the silence and solitude close in around him once again. Was she right? Could there be a second chance for him? And if so …
He allowed himself to feel a small flare of hope. Soon they’d be through the worst of the weather. As they approached the great southern continent, the sea would turn glassy, and he’d be able to unpack the rest of the boxes in his cabin. For the first time, he felt a twinge of impatience. His fingers itched to feel the smooth wood again. Each time he closed his eyes, colours and shapes swirled in the darkness.
It was time. He could feel that it was time. The sea was still too rough for him to work properly. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t make a start. He turned away from the ocean and began to almost run across the deck towards the stairs that led to his cabin, and those packages that held the best of him.