by Paul Henke
‘No, Cariad’- Meg lapsed into Welsh, ‘I wasn’t brave. I was terrified. But kiss me anyway.’ She felt him stir against her thigh. ‘I love you,’ she whispered. ‘Make me warm.’
He did. More poignantly, tenderly and at the climax with more urgency than either of them could remember.
They slept late and when they finally awoke were stiff and aching from having nowhere to turn, no room to stretch.
‘We’re getting too old for this,’ Meg giggled to Evan who groaned when he moved his leg.
He smiled. ‘I think you’re right. Still, I’ve no complaints.’
Meg was about to reply when there was a knock on the door. Evan fell out of the bunk in his haste, wrapped a towel around himself and called: ‘Come in.’
A steward stood in the doorway, a tray in his hands. ‘Captain’s compliments. I’ve been ordered to serve you breakfast.’ He smiled at their surprise. ‘I er, took the liberty of asking your children what you’d like and they suggested this.’ He raised the cover a few inches. ‘If it’s not to your satisfaction then I can change it.’ He placed the tray on the table. There were fried eggs, bacon and kidneys, freshly squeezed orange juice, toast a pot of tea and one of coffee. ‘Also the captain would be pleased if you could join him at twelve noon for a drink. Will that be satisfactory?’
‘Eh? Yes, thank you,’ Evan found his tongue. ‘Tell the captain we’ll be eh . . . most happy em, to . . . .yes, thank you.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ the steward nodded his head and left.
Meg and Evan were too stunned to speak and before either could say anything the door burst open and Dai and Sion ran in. Uncle James stood in the doorway, a helpless expression on his face.
‘Sorry, I couldn’t keep them out,’ he said.
‘Calm down, boys,’ Evan said, as both of them spoke at once. When they took no notice he said loudly: ‘Quiet.’ There was a sudden silence. ‘Good, now I know you both want to know what’s happened and you’ll be told all in good time . . .’
‘A sailor said Mam saved the captain’s life,’ interrupted Sion.
‘Yes and all the passengers keep looking at us and pointing,’ added Dai.
‘Both of you . . .’ said Evan in a warning voice.
‘Sorry,’ they chorused.
‘First of all what have I told you about barging into our room like that?’
‘Sorry Da,’ said Dai, eyes cast to the deck.
‘Sorry Da,’ mumbled Sion, doing likewise.
‘All right, now if you’ll both leave for a few minutes and give us time to dress then come back later – and this time knock.’ They went meekly out the door, Evan winking at Uncle James over their heads.
Meg and Evan were half way through breakfast when there was a gentle knock at the door. ‘Come in,’ called Evan, grinning at the demure look the boys had adopted, when he saw them.
Within seconds the look was gone and they talked nineteen to the dozen, finding out what happened. Around the ship the story made no mention of the fact Meg herself had been rescued just in time. The story being told was Meg had single handedly pulled the captain from the edge of death back to the saloon. There were a few variations on the same theme, all adding to the confusion.
‘Is it true we’re going to the captain’s cabin?’ Sion asked excitedly.
‘Eh, no,’ replied Evan. ‘Sorry but it’s just for me, Mam and Uncle James.’
‘Awww, that’s not fair. We never get to do things like grownups do,’ Sion wailed. ‘Why can’t we come too?’
‘Because the invitation was for drinks,’ said Meg. ‘But I’ll tell you what. I’ll ask if you can see the top of the ship. The . . . eh . . . what’s it called?’
‘Bridge,’ her sons answered together.
With that they had to be content. When they had left, Evan noticed how much calmer the sea was now than it had been during the night. ‘The storm must have passed us,’ he said.
Meg frowned at him; she had not heard what he had said. She was holding her two best dresses. ‘Which shall I wear?’
Evan shrugged and sat heavily on the arm of a chair. ‘I don’t want to go, Meg,’ he said quietly.
Meg threw her dresses onto one of the bunks and knelt beside him. ‘I know how you feel.’ She took his hand and gently stroked the back of it. ‘Are you thinking about all those people we’ve seen? . . . The way they dress? . . . And . . .’ she trailed off.
Evan nodded. ‘Aye, love. It’s no good kidding ourselves is it? We come from a mining village up the valleys. In a few days we’ll be in America, trying very hard to make a living. All this has been the sort of holiday we never dreamed we could have. We’ve had a nice cabin to ourselves instead of being down below where we belong. Hell,’ he hated admitting what he believed . . . ‘I’m a rough miner. What manners I’ve got are thanks to you. And I’m supposed to go up there and drink with the captain? I like a pint of beer. What’ll he say to that eh? Look at my hands. They’re hard, rough and ingrained with coal. It’ll take a lifetime to remove the black. For the first time in my life I’m ashamed of what I am and where I come from. Do you understand Meg? Aye, and frightened too, now we’ve left the village.’ He reached out and caressed her hair. ‘Don’t cry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you . . . I’m sorry.’
Meg fought back her tears, her heart going out to him. ‘I understand, Evan,’ she took his hand and lifted it to her lips. ‘But you shouldn’t even think it. You’re as good as any man on this ship and one day you’ll be sitting down to dine with the best of them. You’ll see. And in the meantime tell me what’s more important. The boys and I and our lives together or what those people think? How many of them, for all their money, have our happiness? Our love?’ She leaned forward and kissed his lips. ‘I wouldn’t change places with any of them for all the wealth in the world. Please believe that.’
He smiled. ‘Really Meg? Hearing you say it makes me realise I wouldn’t change with any of them either.’ He pulled her tightly into his arms and held her until his mood changed.
‘Wear the black and white one,’ he said unexpectedly.
It took Meg a few seconds to realise he was talking about her dress. ‘Fine and you wear your grey suit, the new one.’ She did not need to specify because it was the only one Evan owned.
The ship’s bell was sounding twelve o’clock when they were shown into the captain’s day cabin by a smartly dressed, white-uniformed steward. ‘Mr and Mrs Griffiths and Mr Price,’ he announced and stepped to one side to allow them to pass.
Much to their surprise the captain was alone in the cabin. As he came forward to shake Meg’s hand she thought how distinguished he looked, with his brown wavy hair going grey at the temples and the cut and fit of his reefer jacket with the gold stripes on the sleeves. His smile was broad and friendly.
‘I hope you don’t mind me asking you here like this but it seemed the easiest way to say thank you.’ He had a pleasant voice with no trace of an accent. Buchanan turned to Evan and shook his hand, his grip firm and dry.
‘Mr Price, I’m pleased to meet you, too. My name’s John Buchanan. Please call me John. I can’t stand it when people call me captain, especially over drinks. Now what can I get you? I’m going to have a beer. I drink enough of that other rubbish when I have to make conversation with the first class passengers.’ He poured the drinks himself, guessing that the presence of a steward would probably have made them ill at ease; he was nothing if not considerate. Evan and Uncle James also took beers, Meg a sherry.
Buchanan raised his glass. ‘I don’t know how to say thank you to someone for saving my life, especially a lovely lady . . . eh . . . Damn me if I can’t remember the speech I’d planned.’
‘Just thank you is fine, if you must say something,’ said Meg with a smile, ‘and please forget it. I didn’t really do that much. In fact if it hadn’t been for your crew . . .’
‘Oh, I know. The first mate told me. It still doesn’t detract one iota from what you did. You saw me
fall, I understand? And came directly out for me? Which means as close as we can tell you were out there over ten minutes holding on to me. That was quite something.’ He emptied his pot in one long draught. ‘Ahh, that’s better. That was for my thirst, the next is for me to enjoy. Drink up, there’s plenty more where that came from.’
‘How do you know how long it was?’ asked Meg. ‘It didn’t seem that long to me.’
‘Well, we know what time I left the bridge and went forward. I was there only a few minutes. The lookout in the bows used the voice pipe to tell the aft lookout that I was on the prowl. The officer of the watch had something to tell me and when I didn’t return to my cabin he tried to find out where I was. He quickly established I had been forward but not aft and started a search. Luckily for us it was the second mate on watch who knew what to do. Someone junior might have been too nervous.’
Much to John Buchanan’s surprise he enjoyed himself. When he had first learned where they were from he had expected a painful half hour trying to say thank you. Meg he found to be intelligent and well educated, Evan as intelligent and down to earth, and Uncle James very witty.
For their part they too were pleasantly surprised. Captain John Buchanan was an expert raconteur with a fund of personal experiences to relate and the one or two indelicate stories Meg chose not to understand, which fooled nobody.
Since he was enjoying the occasion, Buchanan had food sent in and when the planned emergency – to let him escape his guests if they proved as dull as he had feared – requiring his presence on the bridge came he told the mate to take care of it.
Meg asked if the children could be shown the bridge and Buchanan arranged for a midshipman to show them the whole ship, including the engine room and the steering compartment.
Sensing that the adults too would like to see around he said: ‘Could you come up to the bridge at ten hundred tomorrow and if I’m not able to show you the ship then one of my other officers will?’ They accepted with delight.
Just before they left Buchanan said unexpectedly, ‘Can I ask a favour?’
They nodded.
‘Please, I beg you not to take offence.’ He hoped he was not about to hurt their feelings. ‘In the first class dining room where I have to make an appearance, though by God if there’s any excuse possible I try to stay away, we have to wear a black tie for dinner. Now, I know you proud Welshmen . . . but . . . well . . . I’d be honoured if you’d have dinner with me tonight.’ They looked at him in surprise. ‘The trouble is, even though I’m the captain, I can’t change that rule. Of course, we could eat early, like those who don’t wish to change for dinner do, but that would defeat the object of my invitation. Now, please bear with me – I know I’m making a mess of this and for God’s sake don’t storm out. . . But if I borrow suitable clothes for you to wear will you consider it?’ He waited, unsure what their reaction would be. There was silence for a few moments. ‘I’m sorry, I guess that was impertinent of me. I’d hoped I could’ve done something practical by way of saying thank you. I listened to your plans with interest and there’s a man on board I would have liked you to meet. An American. I thought he could have done you some good.’
The three of them had seen the finery worn by the passengers in the first class dining room and it overawed them.
‘I’m not offended,’ Evan said, ‘and furthermore I’d be delighted. So would the others, wouldn’t you?’ His smile froze when he saw Meg’s face. ‘What’s wrong Meg?’
She shook her head. ‘You two go,’ then she shrugged her shoulders. ‘Captain Buchanan, I’m not ashamed to say I’ve nothing suitable to wear. And if you borrowed a dress for me from one of the lady passengers I guarantee the whole saloon will know before I’ve eaten the first course.’
John Buchanan laughed. ‘I couldn’t agree with you more. If I promise you on all that I hold sacred, like my wallet and my ship that it won’t happen, will you agree to come?’
Meg hesitated, about to say no, but then she changed her mind. ‘If you can guarantee nobody will talk about me, then I’ll come.’
‘My dear Meg the whole blasted ship’s talking about you. And by the end of the evening it’ll be talking more. Evan, could you refill the glasses, please? I won’t be a moment.’ Buchanan went into his sleeping quarters.
‘What do you think?’ asked Evan. ‘This could be the sort of opportunity . . .’ he trailed off. ‘On the other hand it may all be for nothing.’
‘Let’s do it,’ said Meg. ‘Just think of it. Eating with the captain. And writing home to tell everyone . . . Why, they’ll never believe it.’
‘That’s not like you, Meg,’ said Uncle James.
‘I know, but then I’ve never eaten with posh people before either. It’ll be something to tell our grandchildren.’
The captain returned, carrying a large box. ‘Evan, with your permission I’d like to give this wee gift to Meg in . . . eh . . . appreciation for saving my life. Furthermore, provided Evan agrees, there’s no returning it. It isn’t a loan. All right, Evan?’
Evan nodded, as intrigued as the other two. With a slight bow Buchanan placed the box on Meg’s knees.
She undid the large bow and lifted the lid, pushed the tissue paper aside and gasped. She saw the dress, held it by the top of the bodice and stood up, the box falling to the deck and the dress extending to its full length.
The dress was pale green, low cut, tight at the waist and trimmed at the neck with a deep green velvet ribbon which matched the sash at the waist. It was full from the waist down, sweeping to the ground.
‘I . . . I don’t know what to say,’ she stammered, looking at Evan, worried how he would react. His face showed no emotion. Meg was sure he disliked the thought of a virtual stranger giving her such a gift.
‘You’ll look beautiful, my dear,’ said Uncle James. ‘Won’t she, Evan?’
Evan suddenly smiled. ‘The prettiest there.’
‘Something else Meg, but this is only a loan,’ said Buchanan. ‘It belonged to my Grandmother. She left it to me to give to the woman I would someday marry.’ He held up a pearl droplet on the end of a fine gold chain.
Meg gasped.
‘It’ll set the dress off beautifully,’ said Buchanan, ‘and with your black hair you’ll look stunning.’
‘I couldn’t possibly . . .’
‘Tch, tch of course you can. There’s no point in going half dressed, and you will be without some suitable jewellery. By the way, don’t think I always have a dress available to give to the first woman who saves my life. It was a gift for a woman in New York but it doesn’t matter. She can wait until the next voyage.’
‘Are you really going to eat with the captain?’ Sion asked, watching Uncle James pull on a pair of black trousers. The boys had spent all afternoon being shown around the ship and had returned in time to go for supper, alone. After the meal when they returned to the cabin they had found Uncle James putting on a funny black suit, one they had not seen before.
There was a knock on the door.
‘Excuse me, sir,’ said the steward, ‘Captain’s compliments but I’ve come to help you dress.’ He took the bow tie Uncle James was fumbling with and deftly knotted it.
‘Thank you,’ said Uncle James with dignity, ‘and thank the captain for me as well . . . Sion, where do you think you’re going?’
‘I was just going to see Mam and Da, that’s all,’ the little boy frowned.
‘I’ve told you to wait here. They’ll be along in a minute, look you.’ He turned to the steward. ‘I’ll manage now. Could you go and help Mr Griffiths, please?’
‘He didn’t need me sir. Mrs Griffiths looked after him. If that will be all, sir?’ he left with a wink at the boys.
Uncle James was admiring himself in the mirror when the door opened and Meg and Evan stepped in.
The boys looked at them with their mouths open. Meg was beautiful, the dress complementing her black hair and full figure as though it had been made for her. Evan was very d
ashing in his dinner jacket, borrowed from the first mate.
‘Gosh, Mam,’ said Sion, jumping up from the bunk and hugging her. ‘You look . . . you look . . . gosh . . . Mam . . .’
They laughed. ‘I know exactly what you mean son,’ said Evan, ‘I couldn’t have put it better myself. Although perhaps beautiful would have been a suitable word.’
‘You’ll be the most beautiful lady there,’ said Dai. ‘Gosh, I wish I was going too.’
‘You will one day, Dai,’ said Evan, tousling his hair. ‘When you’re a bit older. ‘Ready, Uncle James?’
‘As ready as I’ll ever be. I hope I don’t disgrace you,’ he said nervously.
‘You won’t,’ replied Meg with an assurance she did not feel. It wasn’t that she thought Uncle James would disgrace them any more than she or Evan; no, certainly not.
They met the captain in his cabin and after he had complimented them on their appearance, he poured whiskies for the men, a sherry for Meg.
John Buchanan was a master at putting people at their ease. In his lavish quarters he soon had them laughing and joking, banishing their nervousness for the moment. He drained his glass: ‘Shall we go? It’s time to eat.’ Nervously the three of them nodded.
The captain led the way into the saloon. It was brilliantly lit with a low slung chandelier, more appropriate in a ball room than on a ship. Inside the talk was muted, the chink of cutlery and glasses a pleasant sound against the background throb of the ship. The sea was calm and the ship’s movement barely perceptible. The saloon was richly carpeted and the scattered round tables were covered by starched white cloths. Everyone wore evening dress and every diner cast more than one glance in their direction. The passengers realised who they were but none had expected to see such an attractive couple as Meg and Evan.
‘Meg,’ said John Buchanan as they arrived at his table, ‘this is Senator George Hughes, a Welshman from way back.’
The Senator shook Meg’s hand. ‘Pleased to meet you ma’am. I’ve been visiting the old country for a couple of weeks. My grandpa was born near Cardiff there somewheres, though I never did rightly place where exactly.’