‘If they knew what facts?’
‘If they knew that all the children apart from Zoë and Holly had been safe.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Don’t you see — it’s the colour of their skins.’ Fergus clearly didn’t see, so Mark continued. ‘We all suffered from the illness, but only those with some Maori or Aboriginal blood died.’
‘You’re not making sense,’ said Jessica. ‘Disease doesn’t discriminate on the basis of a person’s skin colour.’
‘Maybe naturally occurring diseases don’t, but what about biological weapons?’
Fergus shook his head, confused. ‘What are you on about?’
‘What’s the problem with biological weapons?’ Mark challenged him and Jessica. The look on their faces told him they were not following his line of reasoning. He answered the question for them. ‘If you release a disease as a biological weapon, you run the risk of infecting your own people.’
‘So?’
‘So the answer was to develop the perfect biological weapon — one that was race dependent.’
‘That’s not possible.’
‘You’d be surprised what’s possible. How do you know what’s been going on in biological warfare research over the years? Even what has been published about scientific discoveries is frightening enough — chickens without feathers, rabbits that glow in the dark.’
Jessica looked at him as if he was mad. ‘Rabbits that glow in the dark?’
‘Yes,’ Mark insisted. ‘They inserted jellyfish genes into rabbits to make them luminous.’
‘Why would they do that?’ demanded Fergus. The tone of his voice betrayed the fact he shared Jessica’s concerns about their uncle’s mental stability.
Mark was frustrated. ‘That doesn’t matter. The point is that the Human Genome Project opened up a whole new raft of medical research opportunities.’
‘What are you saying precisely?’
‘I’m saying that skin colour is probably controlled by a specific gene, and that scientists somewhere seem to have modified the typhoid bacteria to produce a strain that is deadly to those with that particular gene.’
‘Who would do such a thing?’
‘What about the white South Africans?’
Jessica shook her head. ‘Never.’
‘Remember that newspaper in Cape Town — the one with the headline claiming South African pilots had bombed Cape Town?’ She nodded. ‘The same report suggested that the black South Africans were suffering different symptoms of super-SARS to the whites.’ He threw his hands in the air. ‘That’s my point. They weren’t suffering different symptoms — they were suffering from a different disease.’
‘Are you suggesting that white South Africans deliberately infected the black population with a modified form of typhoid?’ Fergus said slowly.
‘I’m not saying that they necessarily released the disease deliberately. For all we know, the bacteria could have escaped from a biological weapons facility when infrastructure began to fail. It may even have been developed before apartheid ended — a bacteria hidden away somewhere that everyone had forgotten about.’
‘You mean they were experimenting with exterminating the black population? That’s sick. The human race deserves to be wiped out.’
‘It may have been a few fanatics only — we can’t blame everyone.’
‘And you’re saying we carried the illness to Australia and then on to New Zealand?’
‘Exactly. We — and everyone we came into contact with — fell ill. Everyone except Corky — the only one with white skin — died. Only Sophia, Lily, and Zoë in our party developed the critical symptoms — peritonitis and septicaemia — and they were the only members of our party with darker skins.’
‘So you’re suggesting that while Lee posed a threat to the other Gulf Harbour children, it wasn’t a fatal threat to the non-Maori children, only Zoë and now Holly.’
‘Exactly,’ said Mark, stroking Holly’s hair. The little girl moaned and shifted slightly. ‘And if Steven, Penny and Allison had known that they wouldn’t be heading back to England now.’
‘I wouldn’t bet on that,’ said Fergus. ‘It would just have assured Penny that Lee posed no threat to the families at Haver — none of them have any dark-skinned genes.’
Steven, Luke and Penny settled on a watch system, two hours on and four hours off, doubling up in heavy weather. The self-steering gear would be on duty twenty-four hours a day. With ten berths and only five crew, including two children, Archangel seemed luxuriously spacious after the cramped conditions of the voyage from England. Luke and Lee each had their own cabin.
The first week was uneventful. They made good way, clocking up runs of over one hundred and fifty nautical miles a day. It was a time of regaining their sea legs and acclimatising their bodies to a routine which never allowed them more than four hours sleep at a stretch, a time for their brains to learn to ignore the creaks and groans that continually changed with the direction and speed of the wind and the state of the sea.
They welcomed the steady thirty-knot blow on the quarter then cursed when it blew for so long that the sea built up and the self-steering gear proved unable to hold the boat steady as Archangel surfed down the waves. The watch system evaporated into a fog of half-hour stints at the wheel, fighting to hold the yacht on a straight course. As they became tired, they became grumpy. Steven accused Luke of eating the sandwiches and cake he had left in the galley for his end-of-watch snack. Luke insisted he hadn’t touched the food and Steven yelled at him. Then he realised the boy was probably so tired he couldn’t remember what he’d eaten, and apologised.
As the crew became more exhausted, Steven reduced sail. Still the wind blew and the following seas pushed them along. They made almost two hundred miles on the tenth day.
Keen to preserve what he considered to be the yacht’s best jib, Steven decided to replace it with one of the heavy-duty sails he had found at Manly Marina. ‘Could you go to the sail locker and get the dark blue sail bag?’ he asked Luke when he poked his head through the companionway, ready to commence his watch. Luke disappeared, only to reappear about a minute later.
‘Couldn’t you find it?’ Steven asked.
‘Yes, and I found something else down there as well.’ The dim outline of a figure appeared in the companionway behind him.
‘Allison!’ exploded Steven as she climbed on deck.
Steven was furious. Because of Allison’s actions, he was going to have to face a long and uncomfortable sail back to New Zealand, followed by another round of tearful farewells. He was also furious with himself — he had failed to realise the significance of the rifle shots and the plume of smoke. He couldn’t hide his anger.
‘We’re going to have to turn round and take you back. That’ll cost us three weeks’ sailing,’ he yelled above the screaming wind. ‘And three weeks’ provisions.’
‘I’m not going back,’ she shouted in return.
‘Yes, you are. Apart from anything else, my father will be worried sick. He’ll think you’ve fallen over a cliff or something.’
‘He won’t. I left him a letter.’
‘You what!’
‘I left him a letter.’
‘And you think that makes everything all right? He loves you. He worships the ground you walk on. How could you do this to him?’
Allison stared down at the cockpit floor. ‘I love him too. I just have to get back to Haver. I need to see my mother. I need to know she’s all right.’
‘And what about my father?’
Allison said nothing.
Steven turned to Luke. ‘Right, let’s get that jib changed. As soon as that’s done, we’re turning around and heading back.’
He handed the helm over to Penny, stomped below and heaved the heavy-weather jib up into the cockpit. With the violent motion of the boat it took over half an hour to complete the sail change. All the while Penny and Allison sat in the cockpit, talking intently. ‘Allison does
n’t want to go back,’ Penny announced when Steven returned to the cockpit, still fuming. ‘And I agree with her. I’m not going to help sail the boat if you turn around.’
‘What!’
‘You heard me. I understand how Allison feels. It’s no good you forcing her to go back. There’s no future for her and your father and her. And there’s another thing you need to know.’ She looked at Allison. ‘Are you going to tell him or am I?’
‘I’m pregnant,’ Allison said suddenly.
‘What!’
‘I’m pregnant.’
‘Does my father know?’
‘He does by now.’
‘You told him in a letter?’ Allison’s silence confirmed the fact. ‘Then we’ve definitely got to go back.’
‘That’s precisely why we shouldn’t go back,’ interrupted Penny.
Steven was incredulous. ‘How come?’
‘What’s the most important thing on this planet according to your father?’ It was Steven’s turn to be silent. ‘Genes! Genes! He’s always telling us it’s all about the genes! Gulf Harbour’s got plenty of your father’s genes with Zach and Nicole. Allison’s carrying your father’s precious genes back to England for use by the English community.’ Steven looked at her in amazement, his mouth open. Was there no limit to the mental gymnastics and guile of the female species?
‘I’m tired, and so is Allison,’ said Penny with an air of finality. ‘She’s been cooped up in that grubby little sail locker for the last ten days.’
‘Whose fault’s that?’ Steven said coldly.
‘We’re going below for a cup of tea and a rest. And don’t you dare turn Archangel round. I’ve done enough sailing to know when a boat’s hard on the wind.’ With the edict delivered, the two women went below.
‘Well, at least now we know who ate your sandwiches and cake,’ said Luke.
By the time he had handed over his watch to Luke, Steven had calmed down a little. He was still angry with Allison but he couldn’t stay angry with Penny. He felt terribly upset for his father and still couldn’t understand Allison’s wish to return to England. But it was time to stop yelling and be rational. Telling Luke to call him if he had any problems, he hurried down the companionway.
He found the two women still drinking tea. He helped himself to a cup and sat down opposite them. He still wanted to turn around and head back as soon as possible. ‘You do realise the risk you run with Nigel and his sons? Nigel will never forgive you,’ he said, looking Allison squarely in the eyes.
‘With any luck he’ll no longer be in charge.’
‘And if he is?’
‘Then I’ll be in the same boat as you. I’ll make contact with the gardeners or the farm workers. As long as I know my mother’s all right I’ll be happy. And anyway, I’m sure if I’m careful I’ll be able to meet up with her somehow. Even a few minutes every few weeks will be enough.’
Steven realised he was being defeated by his own logic.
‘She’s not going back to Gulf Harbour,’ Penny said firmly. ‘Neither am I.’
37
The voyage to England took almost four and a half months. Short-handed, Steven sailed conservatively, reducing sail whenever the wind rose. The lack of crew was accentuated by Allison’s pregnancy, which was proving difficult. She confided to Penny that she had been seventeen weeks pregnant before they left. Had it not been for her strained relationship with Mark and their lack of intimacy immediately prior to Archangel’s departure, he would surely have noticed. Apart from morning sickness, she began to put on weight rapidly and soon found it uncomfortable to move about the yacht.
The need to keep the vessel as steady as possible for Allison and the lack of fuel to punch them through the Doldrums further slowed their journey. Apart from the inevitable fronts as they neared Cape Horn, the winds were mostly light. As the weeks dragged by, Steven became increasingly concerned. He realised that if they were unable to enter Haver, he would be hard pressed to establish a base before winter set in.
Excitement grew as Archangel neared the coast of England in early October. Steven had decided not to make for Gillingham on the Medway — Archangel’s anchorage on her previous voyage to England. He didn’t expect to need to escape from England again, but was playing safe. Nigel and his sons knew where Archangel had been anchored before, so he elected instead to sail up the Thames and anchor off Greenwich just below the remains of the Thames Barrier. They were all in a hurry to get to Sevenoaks. They packed up the boat quickly, they rowed ashore and with a final glance back at Archangel began the twenty-five mile trek to Sevenoaks. Allison was finding it difficult to walk so Steven found her a wheelchair. The tyres were perished and she frequently grimaced as the rusty contraption bounced along. They also found a buggy for baby David. The roads were covered in weeds and the concrete was cracked and uneven in many places, so the going was often difficult. But with Luke relieving Steven pushing on the wheelchair and Penny on the buggy their progress was steady, although they looked like World War Two refugees.
Two days after leaving Greenwich they reached the town of Sevenoaks. It was late in the evening and getting dark, and they were exhausted. Despite their excitement, they knew they would have to wait until the next day to approach Haver. They still didn’t know what to expect. They stumbled into The Red House at the top of Sevenoaks High Street, slumped fully clothed onto the musty-smelling beds and quickly fell asleep.
At six in the morning, while Penny, Allison and the children slept on, Steven and Luke crept out of the house and made their way towards Haver Park. They jogged through the narrow street at the top of the town and down the hill opposite St Nicholas’s Church. After stepping carefully over the cattle grid protecting the open gates of Haver Park, they ran excitedly across the valley and up the wooded hill on the other side. As they reached the summit, the impressive outline of Haver House loomed into view through the mist.
Allison, Penny and Lee heard the clatter of footsteps on the stairs.
‘The Union Jack and the Cross of St George are flying above The West Tower!’ blurted an excited Steven.
‘How’s my mother?’ Allison asked.
‘We didn’t go in. As soon as we saw the flags flying we raced back here to get you.’
‘Anyway, your mother won’t be up yet,’ Luke said. ‘There were no lights in the house.’
‘I wish I could take Lee in,’ said Penny.
‘You can,’ said Allison softly.
Steven looked at her, confused. ‘Is he a carrier of typhoid or isn’t he?’
‘He is a carrier. Some or all of them may fall ill if we are not very careful, but the illness won’t kill them.’
Penny was confused too. ‘How do you know?’
‘I don’t think he’s carrying the standard strain of typhoid. I think it’s a new disease — a disease that’s only fatal to people with darker skins, like the Aboriginal women and those with Maori blood, like Zoë. Don’t ask me how such a disease works, I don’t know.’
‘How long have you suspected this?’ Steven demanded.
She didn’t answer.
‘Did you know before we left New Zealand?’
Again she did not reply.
‘You should have told my father!’ Steven shouted, unable to contain his anger.
‘And do you know what he would have done? He would have sacrificed Holly for Lee, just to keep you there.’
‘You mean exposed her to the virus and let her die?’ Steven could barely contain his anger. ‘He wouldn’t have done that!’
‘Are you sure? Anyway, my decision not to tell him made sense. As long as Lee never came into contact with Holly she was safe, and the New Zealand community stood to gain the benefit of her Maori genes.’
Lee opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Luke.
‘Come on, let’s get going. What does it matter now? The flags are flying. We’re here, and it’s safe to go in. That’s all that matters.’
They helped Allison down t
he stairs and into the wheelchair, put baby David in the buggy and hurried along the high street, retracing the route Steven and Luke had taken earlier. The mist was beginning to disperse. As they passed through the pedestrian gate beside the cattle grid, they could discern the outline of deer and cattle further along the valley. They dragged the wheelchair and buggy up the overgrown, narrow tarmac path that wound its way through the trees to the top of the hill.
‘See,’ Luke said, pointing at the flags fluttering in the breeze above the West Tower. His face was beaming.
Steven was more subdued; he was wrestling with the facts Allison had presented, trying to come to terms with her deception.
‘There’s a man on top of the tower,’ Lee said excitedly. All eyes focused on the parapet and saw a large crow fluttering down towards the gardens below.
‘Funny-looking man,’ laughed Luke.
‘I did see a man,’ insisted Lee.
‘No one will be awake yet. You can help me take my grandmother a cup of tea in bed. Do you remember your Great-Great-Aunt Margaret?’ Luke said.
‘That’s my job,’ Allison said firmly, her voice resonating with happiness.
‘He can take his own grandmother a cup of tea,’ said Penny firmly. Steven relaxed a little. He remembered the look on Diana’s face when Penny announced that she was leaving for New Zealand with Lee. He hoped his aunt would forgive him now he had brought them both safely home.
They hurried across the parkland towards Haver House, relieved to find the gardens outside the West Gate well tended. The gates beneath the West Tower were open and Lawn Court was deserted. There were no lights in the windows of the buildings surrounding the courtyard, but they could see lights ahead beyond the archway of Cromwell’s Tower.
As they walked across Lawn Court, Penny burst into song. ‘There’ll always be an England…’
Her voice reverberated off the stone walls of the buildings surrounding the courtyard. Luke, Allison and Steven joined in, singing at the top of their voices. Lee, who didn’t know the words, accompanied them as best he could.
Blood Bond Page 28