by John Boyne
‘Mrs Drake, I think you should sit down. I’m really at a loss to know what you’re so upset about.’
She sat down heavily in a chair and Mr Robinson sat opposite her, although still maintaining some distance.
‘Now perhaps you’d like to start at the beginning,’ he said.
‘It has become clear to me over the last few years,’ she began, ‘as my daughter Victoria has blossomed towards womanhood, that she has become the object of many a young man’s affections. True, she is a beautiful girl—but then she comes from a fine lineage that has produced many beautiful girls. Why, when I was her age I was quite the débutante and had to fight off a wealth of suitors, so I am fully aware of the difficulties she faces.’
‘Quite,’ Mr Robinson said, trying to imagine this heavy-set, pushy woman as a flower-like virgin, nobly retaining her virtue in the face of the lust-fuelled young men of London. He found the image difficult to visualize.
‘In London and in Paris, Victoria has enjoyed a number of suitors, but she has of course behaved with impeccable dignity at all times, never compromising herself for a moment, despite the fact that any number of beaux have attempted to take liberties with her. But she is a decent, respectable girl, Mr Robinson. Make no mistake about that.’
‘Of course. I have no doubt of it. But what, may I ask, has this to do with me?’
‘Last night, Mr Robinson, Victoria returned to our cabin quite late. I must confess that I was asleep at the time, having taken a medicinal brandy earlier in the evening to counteract the effects of a slight chill I’ve developed on board. I told Mr Drake to book us the Presidential Suite, you know, but did he listen? No. He insisted that the suite had already been taken, which I am now unsure about.’
‘Mrs Drake, this is about an illness you’re suffering? Would you like me to summon a doctor?’
‘I would not!’ she cried. ‘And it is not about an illness, as you must be well aware. Victoria returned to our cabin and woke me up with her crying because of an event which appears to have taken place on the deck of this boat last night.’
‘Ah,’ he replied, recalling the incident. He had awoken that morning with the hope that it would all have been forgotten by the afternoon. It seemed necessary that he would have to speak to Mr Zéla at some point during the day, but he hoped that that hideous nephew of his would be confined to his quarters during the conversation. He himself had left the cabin quite late the previous night, having expected Edmund to return half an hour earlier, and had gone in search of him. When he came on deck and his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he noticed what at first he took to be an embrace between two young people but which he slowly realized was the exact opposite of that. Recognizing Edmund’s voice, he saw the glint of the knife in the air and had reacted without any thought, grabbing Tom DuMarqué’s hand and pulling him away from his intended victim. Holding him over the side of the boat had not been a premeditated act; he was simply so consumed with anger at what he had seen that he could not help himself. He felt sure that had Mr Zéla not appeared when he did, then Tom DuMarqué would now be lying at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean and he himself would have committed an unconscionable crime. Still, the incident had ended without any injury, and it had been his fervent desire since then that the matter would be dropped.
‘You may well say “ah,”’ Mrs Drake said, anger forcing flecks of spittle to form at the sides of her mouth. ‘But I would like to know exactly what you are going to do about it.’
‘Victoria has told you then?’ he asked.
‘She has told me very little. She was too upset. She remains too upset. But I have a good idea what it is. From the moment we boarded this vessel, Mr Robinson, your son has been making inappropriate advances towards my daughter. He has followed her around, chased her like a little puppy-dog, and from what I do know of last night he has taken an unforgivable liberty.’
Mr Robinson could not help but smile at the very idea of it and he wondered what story Victoria had concocted to save herself.
‘You are smiling, Mr Robinson,’ she said angrily. ‘You find this amusing?’
‘No, Mrs Drake, of course not,’ he replied. ‘It’s an unfortunate situation. But I believe you might, as they say, have got your wires crossed.’
‘Might have what?’ she asked, ignorant of the idiom.
‘I think you have got hold of the wrong end of the stick,’ he explained. ‘Edmund has certainly not had any interest in Victoria other than as a friend. I can assure you of that.’
‘I’m afraid my eyes have led me to a very different conclusion, sir,’ she said haughtily. ‘Surely you cannot have failed to notice the time they spend together, the cosy chats, the strolls around the deck?’
‘Yes, but I believe they have been mainly at Victoria’s suggestion.’
‘What an insulting remark!’
‘I don’t mean to suggest anything inappropriate, you understand. Only that your daughter is the one who has taken a shine to my . . . to Edmund. And if she believes he returns those romantic affections, I’m afraid she is very much mistaken. In fact she could not be more wrong.’
Mrs Drake’s mouth opened and closed several times in amazement. She truly believed she had never been so insulted. The suggestion that her daughter was the person making all the running was an outrageous one, but the idea that, having done so, she might be rejected by the object of her affections? Well that just beggared belief.
‘Mr Robinson,’ she said finally, trying to control the emotion in her voice. ‘I am forced now to tell you something unpleasant which I must ask you to keep between these four walls.’
‘Of course,’ he said, intrigued.
‘My daughter has told me very little of the events that took place last night, but there is one thing I do know for sure. And that is that the two young people . . .’ She searched for the right words, horrified that she had to find them at all. ‘ . . . the two young people shared a moment,’ she said finally, closing her eyes in shame.
‘A moment? I don’t understand. I know they were talking, but—’
‘They grew closer, Mr Robinson.’
‘Well, I expect they have some things in common. It’s not unusual for two young people to—’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake,’ she cried, throwing her hands in the air. ‘They kissed, Mr Robinson. Your son Edmund kissed Victoria.’
He stared at her in disbelief, not knowing what to say under the circumstances. ‘They kissed,’ he repeated in a flat tone.
‘Yes. It dishonours us both, of course, but there is no reason why this needs to go any further. However, it must be made clear to Edmund that he cannot take liberties like that again. It’s simply unacceptable.’
‘You think Edmund kissed her?’ he asked, trying to imagine how such a thing could possibly have taken place.
‘Yes,’ she shouted. ‘Oh, do wake up, Mr Robinson. You’re acting as if you’ve been asleep for the last few hours. Surely it is not such an alien concept to you? You did father the boy, you must have some idea of the lusts that drive men. From what I can gather, he kissed her quite passionately and she was forced to break free of his licentious advances, which is when she returned to our cabin in tears.’
‘I see,’ he said, standing up and forcing her to do the same. ‘If Edmund has done what you say, Mrs Drake, let me apologize on his behalf and assure you that it will not happen again. However, I happen to believe that this is not necessarily the way the events of last night developed.’
‘Are you calling Victoria a liar, Mr Robinson?’
‘No, because, as you so clearly pointed out, she has not actually told you what happened. Therefore, how could she lie? However, you are also not in full possession of the facts. Indeed, you are merely piecing them together from your own rather vivid imagination.’
‘Well, it hardly takes a great imagination to work it out, does it? We are both people of the world. We know what goes on in the minds of the young.’
‘Of whom your
daughter is one, just as much as Edmund.’
‘My daughter is a lady!’
‘And so is Edmund!’ he roared in anger, unwilling to have the character of his beloved besmirched any more.
Mrs Drake took a step back and raised an eyebrow in surprise.
‘A gentleman, I mean,’ he corrected himself. ‘Edmund is as much a gentleman as Victoria is a lady, and there is no reason why you should assume his guilt over hers.’
‘I can see you are not willing to be reasonable about this,’ she said, grunting like a hungry pig as she opened the door and pushed past him. ‘But let me say now that if there is another incident of this type, I will not be coming to see you about it but will visit Captain Kendall instead. And I shall insist upon that so-called gentleman being put off this boat.’
‘In the middle of the ocean?’ he asked with a smile.
‘Don’t toy with me, Mr Robinson,’ she snarled. ‘Just tell Edmund to stay away from Victoria. Or I promise you there will be hell to pay.’ And with that she stormed off down the corridor and returned to her cabin, slamming the door behind her in anger.
He stared after her for a moment, before shaking his head and stepping back inside. As he made to close the door, however, Ethel appeared and entered the cabin, looking at him in surprise.
‘I came down to find you,’ she said. ‘I thought we were having lunch. What’s the matter? You look upset.’
‘I have just had a visit from Mrs Drake,’ he replied. ‘About last night.’
‘Oh no. Is she after Tom DuMarqué’s blood, then? I wouldn’t much want to be in his shoes this morning.’
‘On the contrary, my dear,’ he replied in a calm voice. ‘She’s after yours. She seems to think it would be a good idea if you were thrown overboard and fed to the sharks.’
Ethel blinked and thought about this for a moment. ‘Me?’ she said eventually, removing the boy’s wig she wore. ‘Why me? What have I done?’
‘Apparently, you kissed Victoria.’
Ethel’s mouth fell open in surprise. That incident was one she had blocked from her mind all morning. The memory of it, the length of the kiss, the fact that she had rather enjoyed it. ‘Hawley . . .’ she said, shaking her head.
‘It’s outrageous, of course,’ he said. ‘I mean, the idea is beyond preposterous.’
‘You know she’s been after me since the day we left Antwerp,’ Ethel protested.
‘Yes, I know that.’
‘The truth is that she cornered me last night. Gave me a little champagne and made one final move. She tried to kiss me, but naturally I rejected her. That’s why she ran off so upset.’
‘Ethel, it’s not as if I believe her,’ Hawley said. ‘You don’t have to defend yourself.’
‘As long as you know the truth,’ she replied, lying through her teeth. In the few moments she had had to think about it, she considered being honest about the events of the previous night, but she realized that there was nothing to be gained by doing so. It was all for the best to stick to this simple lie.
‘Anyway, she wants you to stay away from Victoria for the rest of the voyage,’ he continued. ‘And I think that’s the sensible thing to do, all things considered. As far away as possible.’
‘Of course. But did you tell her about Tom? Did you tell her how he attacked me?’
He shook his head. ‘There’s no point in going into all that with her,’ he explained. ‘She’s going to believe whatever she wants to believe anyway. I see little reason for her to know every detail. But here’s the thing: when we came on board, we agreed that we would keep as low a profile as possible. And instead, we seem to have become embroiled in a series of unpleasant incidents on this ship, with far too many people claiming association with us, and I for one have had enough of it. Now we’ve only got a few days to go; can’t we just keep ourselves to ourselves in the meantime?’
‘Of course,’ Ethel replied, taking him by the hand and sitting with him on the corner of the bed. ‘Of course we can. We’ll stay here if you like. We can eat here, sleep here. Make love here. No one else matters, you see. Just you and I.’
Hawley nodded, but he felt saddened. ‘I want to understand you,’ he said quietly. ‘And I want to be a good husband to you. Truly I do. But there can be no more of this unpleasantness.’
‘I know you do. And of course you’re right.’
‘I don’t want there to be any secrets between us. Sometimes I think that if I had tried to understand Cora a little better from the beginning, then we might have been able to be happy together.’
Ethel frowned; she didn’t like to think about the previous Mrs Crippen. ‘She was a horrible woman,’ she said. ‘You know that. You have nothing to reproach yourself for when it comes to her.’
‘Perhaps I made her the way she was,’ he said. ‘Perhaps I drove her away. If I did, then I am at fault. And I don’t want to do that to you. I couldn’t bear to lose you.’
‘Hawley, you never could,’ she said, taking his face in her hands. ‘You could never drive me away. I’m nothing like Cora.’
‘Oh, I know that. But at first she swore she loved me too.’
‘But I mean it. And I won’t change.’
‘In the end she hated me. That’s why she left me. And even though I could hardly bear being around her either, it still hurts to think that she left me for another man. Does that sound ridiculous?’
Ethel swallowed and glanced away, unable to look him in the eye. ‘It’s perfectly reasonable,’ she said. ‘But you have to stop thinking about her. What she did was unforgivable.’
‘We don’t have any secrets, do we?’ he asked.
‘Of course not, Hawley.’
‘Because you know you can tell me anything,’ he insisted. ‘Anything, and I would be able to forgive you. No matter how dreadful it was.’
Ethel swallowed and looked away. ‘I have no secrets from you,’ she said in a flat tone.
Hawley nodded and looked a little disappointed. ‘She’ll probably make that other poor devil’s life a misery now, too,’ he said eventually, laughing a little but wiping a tear from his eye at the thought of it. ‘Serves him right. Still,’ he said, standing up, ‘I wish her happiness. I really do. I’ve found it with you. So why shouldn’t she find it elsewhere?’
Ethel shook her head, amazed at her beloved’s ability to forgive. He really was the world’s kindest man. Was it any wonder she loved him so? He could forgive anything, he had said. Ethel counted on that.
‘Where are you going?’ she asked as he made for the door.
‘There’s something I have to do,’ he said, looking at his face in the mirror to make sure that his eyes weren’t too tear-stained; they weren’t, but his cheeks had turned pink from the sunburn.
‘But I thought you wanted to stay here?’ she asked.
‘We will, we will. But I have just one last thing to do. I’ll be back in an hour or so. I’ll see you then.’
Ethel nodded and watched as he left the cabin. Her heart was filled with a mixture of love and fear, but now she knew that there was one task left that she had to perform too. This was the moment that she had been putting off since they had first stepped on to the Montrose, and it had finally come. Now they were nearly in Canada and, by the sound of things, they were planning on spending most of the rest of this voyage in their cabin together, which would leave no time for this. She stood up and walked across to the wardrobe, pulling a chair with her, and then stood on top of it, reaching above for the hat box she had put there a week before. She held it gingerly but without any sense of horror. This was simply the last act which needed to be completed before safety and happiness could accompany them for ever.
Ethel made sure that the box was properly sealed and then she put the wig of Edmund Robinson back on her head, opened the door, checking that the corridor was empty, and stepped outside, holding the box tightly against her body.
‘Mr Robinson,’ Matthieu Zéla said, opening the door to his visitor. �
�I’ve been expecting you.’
He stepped inside without waiting for an invitation and was immediately taken by the splendour of the Presidential Suite. The first-class cabin that he occupied with Edmund was extremely pleasant, but Matthieu Zéla’s suite of rooms was something else: a long couch, several armchairs and plenty of space to walk around. He could hear the shower running in the bathroom which stood in the corner of the living room; at the opposite end were two doors leading to the small bedrooms, one for each of them.
‘Mr Zéla,’ he said politely, trying not to sound envious of these lavish surroundings. ‘I hope you don’t mind my visit.’
‘Matthieu, please,’ he said. ‘And no, not at all. Sooner or later the entire ship seems to turn up here. I think they want to see what they’re missing. Please. Sit down.’
‘Is your nephew around?’ Mr Robinson asked, and Matthieu nodded in the direction of the bathroom.
‘He’s taking a shower,’ he said. ‘A rare enough thing in itself, so let’s not spoil it for him. He slept late this morning and I thought it best not to wake him. After all, when he’s unconscious he can’t be causing any trouble, can he?’
Mr Robinson allowed himself a brief smile as they sat down, before rubbing his face in exhaustion. ‘Actually it’s him I wanted to talk to you about,’ he admitted.
‘I guessed as much. None of us remember last night with any pleasure. For what it’s worth, John, I don’t blame you for trying to push him over the side. If he had attempted to assault my . . .’ He searched for the right word but decided to stick with convention for the moment. ‘ . . . my son, I probably would have done the same thing. Only I wouldn’t have let anyone stop me.’
‘I didn’t want to injure him,’ Mr Robinson explained. ‘I’m not a violent man by nature, although we do all have our breaking points. But I need to make something clear: there can be no repeat of last night’s misadventure.’
‘Of course.’
‘You see, Mrs Drake just visited me—’
‘You have my sympathies.’