I dived and grabbed it, just before it reached the edge. I heard the clatter of shoes on the ladder at the end of the passage, so I jumped to my feet, tucked the bottle under my arm, and swung over the railing to the level below. I sprinted for the hold and made it into the darkness before I dared to breathe again. Sinking to the deck, panting, I swore I'd stay hidden until everyone was asleep. At least I now had water.
Four
My stomach was roaring like some sort of sea monster by the time I felt it was late enough to venture out. This time, I headed straight for the galley. I wanted more than milk and cake, and I wanted a tin opener, too.
In the refrigerator room, I found a door that led to a larder full of tins, boxes and sacks. Seizing a near-empty flour sack, I started stuffing tins into it, grateful that the flour dregs muffled the clanking. When the sack's stitching started to look strained, I grabbed a dented, metal bucket and started filling that, too.
I set my bucket and bag of supplies down next to a mop and advanced on the refrigerators. The canned supplies were for later, but I wanted something I could wolf down now. Smearing butter and some sort of jam on a hastily carved slab of bread, I sank my teeth through the crust. Crunchy and starting to go stale, the bread was the best I'd ever tasted. Silently, I apologised to Merry and all the fine bakers in Fremantle, but I'd never been so hungry before. On a ship this fast, I couldn't even catch fish to sustain me. Mermaids were never made to sail in steamships, I decided as I resolved not to travel in them in future. When my business with William was over, then I would swim home. Sooner, rather than later, I hoped.
Most of the food in the refrigerators was raw and waiting to be cooked, but I didn't dare take the time to cook myself a meal. A more than proficient cook, thanks to Merry's painstaking lessons in the kitchen, I still didn't enjoy the activity much. Maybe if I had a man I loved to cook for...Sal's words in the fruit shop came back to me and I felt my face grow hot. I had more enthusiasm for heating things up in the bedroom than the kitchen. Or a ship's cabin, I thought, remembering the one blissful night William and I had spent together in his cabin on the Trevessa. I could revisit the cabin on the sea floor as many times as I wished, but to get that time back was impossible. I might never spend another night with him – but I was determined to find out for sure.
But not before we reached his island.
Holding the remaining bread between my teeth, I carried my bucket, sack and mop back to the hold. I stacked the supplies in my hidey-hole and headed to the washroom to fill the bucket with water to deal with the melon mess.
I was already angry by the time I returned to the hold. In the process of climbing up and down ladders with a bucket, I'd managed to soak my skirt in soapy water. I dunked the mop in the bucket and was just about to pull it out when I heard chittering.
A rat sat in my bedding, nibbling on the remains of my bread while another relieved itself on the blanket before sniffing at my food.
I seized the mop and cracked the handle across the crate. Two dead rats lay on either side of a slice of bread with a mop-handle-shaped dent across it. I wiped the jam off the handle with my fingers and rinsed them in the bucket. Swearing, I quickly sloshed the water across the floor, then grabbed the rats, soiled blanket and bread and stuffed them into the empty bucket. Trying to keep the anger out of my tone, I sat down and sang, summoning any creature within earshot to me. I might have to sleep in the hold, but I didn't have to share it with vermin.
Rats appeared from everywhere. Five...a dozen, then thirty or more. All assembled in the puddle on my freshly-mopped floor. I stood up and told them to follow me, swinging my bucket as I approached the rail on the aft deck. I tipped my bucket over the railing and told the rats to follow it. In the darkness, a furry waterfall cascaded into the waves.
I set off to return the mop and bucket to the kitchen – and to replace my stolen slice of bread. The mulberry jam reminded me of Merry and I needed a little sweetness tonight to replace the bitterness that had settled in my heart.
I hadn't bargained on fighting the rats for food on this ship. What else would go wrong on this voyage? Or was my whole mission a mistake?
Five
I crammed the slice of bread into my mouth and strode toward the foredeck. I needed air and I needed to see the sky and feel the wind. I'd been cooped up in the hold for too long.
The night breeze caressed me as I stepped down the ladder, making me smile. I might not be able to fish from a ship moving this fast, but the ever-present wind from our passage was a refreshing compensation.
A high-pitched chitter stopped me in my tracks. Not more rats! I hurried toward the source of the sound, only to realise what I heard came from the water and it was too musical to be rats. Dolphins. Lots of them, by the sound of it.
I leaned over the side and caught sight of moonlight glinting on the slick bodies leaping in the ship's bow wave. I smiled and called a greeting, which they returned. I relaxed against the rail, happy to watch the dolphins play as I wished I could join them. Soon, perhaps.
"Storm and good fishing!" one of the dolphins remarked and a rill of agreement trickled through the pod.
Storm? Oh no – not this ship, too. I peered into the distance and saw where the stars ended. All along the horizon, clouds were massing for what looked like one hell of a tropical storm.
A scraping sound caught my attention and I realised there was another shadow silhouetted against the railing. William's broad shoulders were unmistakeable as he leaned over to look at the dolphins, just as I had. "Dolphins, not fish. She thought they were fish," I heard him murmur, before he laughed softly.
He was talking about me. I'd tried to tell him that the dolphins surfing the Trevessa's bow wave were hunting flying fish, but I hadn't known the words to explain. Now he thought I was some sort of idiot, mistaking dolphins for fish as if I couldn't speak to them at will.
I opened my mouth to speak, but I deliberately stuffed the last of my mulberry-flavoured bread into it instead. William would report a stowaway just as surely as any other man on the ship, especially if he were as angry as he was I'd met on the day we left port. There was no sign of recognition or tenderness left in that man – Grumpy McGregor, the bane of the captain's existence, or so it seemed.
What had happened to the wonderful William who'd pulled me out of the ocean, helped me at every turn and fought for me with word and blow until the ship sank? The same man who'd lifted me tenderly into Captain Foster's lifeboat, telling me not to be afraid, for he'd keep me safe.
"What I'd give to have her here again. If I could have kept her safe," he whispered, as if he was reading my thoughts.
I stepped closer, desperate to touch him, to let him know I was here, watching the dolphins beside him.
William gave a huge sniff, wiping the salt spray from his face, before he turned and walked right past me as if he never saw me. Perhaps he didn't – for the salt seemed to have gotten into his eyes, irritating them to the point of tears.
Six
The waves crashing against the hull reminded me of being trapped in the cargo hold of the Trevessa, knowing that my only way out would sink the ship. But if this ship sank, I'd carry William to safety in my arms, if I had to, I swore to myself in the dark. Yet as the ship rolled in the mountainous seas, I couldn't rest. How could I sleep, knowing I might have to leap into action at any time and shift into my true form? Giuseppe's death had taught me that lesson and I'd never forget it. Nor would I let William drown while I drew breath.
I forced myself to stay in the hold as the storm's intensity increased. Open a tin and eat something, I urged myself. I crunched the tin opener through the nearest lid and almost gagged at the smell of old fish. I had to get this out of here before the smell permeated the hold, or it would stay with me for days. I bolted for the side, throwing the open can into the waves as they greedily licked up the side of the ship. Reason told me to go back to the hold, but I was too restless for that.
I needed to feel th
e storm, I decided. Nothing calmed me like the feeling of a power greater than myself, pushing and pulling on my body as if I had no control over it any more. The ocean...or the storm.
A gust of wind caught me as I reached the foredeck and I opened my arms to it, letting my concealing blanket fall to the deck. The air was so full of spray I could taste the salt on my lips. Home. The taste of home. I rushed to the bow, leaning out over the rail. A wave splashed high and I gasped as the water soaked me to the skin. I ached to dive in and swim with the storm. And once it was calm? I'd never catch up to the boat and William – perhaps I'd swim back to Fremantle. William didn't want me here. I stared down at the tempting water. Oh, so tempting...
"Don't!" a hoarse voice said. "I can't bear to watch it again. You leaping to your death away from me. As if being at sea in a storm wasn't already enough to give me nightmares."
I whirled around. William sat in the shadow of the bulkhead and I'd walked right past him.
"It was bad enough in the lifeboat, seeing you die every day and knowing it wasn't real. The other men told me I was mad, trying to jump into the ocean after a girl who wasn't there. They didn't understand I wasn't trying to save you – I just wanted to join you."
Tears welled up and I couldn't seem to close my mouth, so great was my horror. William had tried to kill himself – more than once.
"If I see you jump one more time, I swear I'll follow you, Maria. To the bottom of the bloody ocean or into the belly of a shark. I don't care any more. I should have known I wouldn't be the only one who couldn't sleep through a storm at sea. You'd be restless, too, and it was only a matter of time before you showed yourself."
He knew I was aboard the ship? After how carefully I'd hidden from everyone? "William, please, I..."
William waved me into silence. "Go back to wherever you hide when you're not tormenting me. Before one of the men on watch hears me talking to you and thinks I'm crazy. I know this ship's built to withstand tropical cyclones, but every storm we encounter takes away any hope I had of sleeping, just like on the Trevessa's lifeboat. Maybe I am crazy, after all. Just not quite crazy enough to jump over the side yet."
I hesitated. This William was one I didn't know. The bitterness, the anger and the heart-wrenching despair weren't a part of the man I'd known and loved. Had he summoned all of these demons in his time in the lifeboat? I wanted to reach out to comfort him, as he'd done so many times for me, but I didn't dare. I was terrified he'd push me away.
"Good night," I whispered, feeling tears spill down my cheeks again as I trotted back to the darkness of the hold.
Seven
I finished up the last tin of peaches as I felt the engines change their tune. We were slowing, presumably to make port. It wasn't completely dark outside yet, so I forced myself to stay hidden, hoping I'd find a chance to slip off the ship and into the water before I was discovered in the hold. If I was really lucky, they wouldn't unload 'til morning, but I couldn't count on that.
For the first time since we'd left Fremantle, the engines' hum sputtered and died. The silence was unnerving, or it would have been, if I couldn't still hear the swish of waves against the hull. Yet I didn't hear the impact of the hull against a jetty or pier, nor the sound of mooring ropes clinking against the ship. Not even the grind of the anchor being let down. I itched to see where we were and why we'd stopped.
The seconds ticked away like hours until I finally felt it was late enough to venture out without being seen. To my surprise, we weren't in port at all. The island rose out of the darkness as a hulking shadow to the north, off the port bow. The waves had died down somewhat, whispering against the hull as they glided past us, but I could hear the echoing boom as they pounded somewhere else. The other side of the island, perhaps, or the fringing reef. It was too dark to tell from the surface – I'd have to slip into the sea to investigate fully.
I heard voices and slipped into the shadows instead.
"Bloody Christmas Island. We get here a day early and the swell's running wrong. So we're off Waterfall, freezing our balls off, instead of balls-deep in one of the ladies at the White House in Flying Fish Cove."
"You don't have any balls to freeze off. Cap'n said the nor'westerly's slackening and the cove will be calm as a millpond in the morning. Maybe the ladies'll wake up early so you can dip your wick."
"Maybe I'll find your naked melon-girl hiding in my bunk and do her instead while I'm waiting."
"You'll need to get it up first..."
I shook my head at their frustrated banter. What woman would tolerate a man like that? They thought about nothing but sex, even when they weren't having any. In between the innuendo and insults, though, they'd told me that we were drifting in the lee of our destination, Christmas Island, and the port faced north-west. What I didn't know was how long a swim it would be to get there, but my clothes would only be a hindrance. Particularly after my enforced laziness of the last few weeks, as I couldn't swim and stay with the ship. I'd need to shake the stiffness out of my tail and what better way than a search for the port?
I crept back to the hold and stripped naked, folding my clothes into my trunk. I dragged it over beside William's, which I knew were his from reading their tags. I hoped mine would be landed alongside his and hopefully even taken to his house – though I didn't hold high hopes for this last. He'd surely know it wasn't his luggage, but if someone else delivered his things, I had a chance. As an afterthought, I pulled one of the tags from his case and fastened it around the handle of mine. There. That would ensure my belongings made it ashore.
As for me...I padded quietly to the foredeck and peered over the bow. My body tingled in anticipation at finally swimming again. Carefully, I climbed over the railing so there was nothing between me and the waves. I took a deep breath and dived.
Shouts came from the deck. "I saw her! I swear I saw the naked girl with the huge tits! She was right here!"
Laughing, I ducked under the surface and shivered at the thrill of shifting back to my true form. Tail, fins, flukes, gills...I gulped seawater and flooded my gills for the first time in weeks. Now all I wanted was some fresh fish and I'd feel like myself again. But first I had to find the port, I reminded myself.
I rippled my body, from top to tail, trying to work the kinks out of it after being cooped up in the hold for so long. Even my shoulders felt stiff. I rounded the north-east point and saw lights up on the cliff, so I swam faster toward them. I was met with an even higher cliff, so I kept going, skirting the rocks until they widened out into a sheltered cove. And it was sheltered, despite facing north-west – the swell had already died down. A narrow beach stretched across a section of the cove, which was ringed by precipitous cliffs everywhere else. Behind the beach and the houses terracing the slope above it, another cliff rose in the middle of the island, easily a hundred feet high again. A road wound its way up from the beach – heading toward the cliffs nearest the Islander's sheltered bay.
I sang up a school of small fish – perhaps the length of my hand, perfect for swallowing whole – and selected several to satisfy my hunger. I snapped their necks quickly, but I didn't stop to eat yet.
Some houses still had lights on and I swam closer to investigate. The nearest stood on the cliffs by the pier – a white bungalow with few windows. On the veranda, I could see a woman and several men clustered around a table. They appeared to be playing some sort of game. It looked similar to what the Chinese grocers in Fremantle played late into the night, when their shops were shut. Unlike the grocers, though, these men were betting with tokens instead of money. The game finished and one man seemed to have won a large haul of tokens, but instead of seizing the pot, he grabbed the woman instead. None of the others seemed to find this strange. Instead, they sloped off into the building.
The couple stood alone on the veranda for a moment and the man said something I couldn't catch. Then the woman sank to her knees in front of him, so I could only see her head. The man dropped his pants to his ankles so hi
s bits flopped out. To my surprise, the woman grabbed his dick and stuffed it into her mouth.
Intrigued, I lifted a fish and swallowed it, followed by a second. The woman seemed to be able to relax her throat, much as I did – she managed to get him down her throat, so that her chin rested against his balls. I wondered if the man tasted as good as my fish. Privately, I doubted it, though the woman didn't recoil in distaste. I watched her pull him in and out of her mouth a few times, as if he was trolling for fish in her throat, until the man lost control of himself and ejaculated fluid all over her face and front. She smiled and giggled as if this was perfectly acceptable, right up until the man left, when she angrily wiped herself with the hem of her tunic and hurried inside. I waited for some time before she reappeared in a dry tunic with another group of men in tow. The men sat down and started another game, gambling for the prize of this woman's time and attentions.
As I finished up my fish, I wondered at this oral sex act. The man had certainly seemed to enjoy it, but surely it didn't have to be so messy. If he'd managed to keep himself in her mouth or aimed for the floor instead of spraying her, or if she'd held onto him and perhaps swallowed his fluid...or wrapping him in a towel when he started spurting stuff everywhere...
It didn't seem difficult, I decided. Maybe I should try it on a man some day, if only to find out what he tasted like. I could always bite his bits off if I didn't like the experience.
The sound of an engine caught my attention – it was the Islander, slowly motoring into the cove as night faded into dawn. I slipped beneath the surface, still thinking about this strange form of sex.
Eight
The coral surrounding this island was remarkable – the whole island was a drop-off, I found. I hid beneath the triangular jetty and watched William and the crew disembark. Just like the Trevean, they starting unloading the cargo as quickly as they could from the Islander. People onshore assisted with transport and distribution, before disappearing into the houses dotting the shoreline and the cliffs above.
Ocean's Triumph Page 2