Changing Yesterday

by Sean McMullen

  Daniel was soon joined by several girls. He was invited to play a few ragtime pieces from the sheet music, and Lewis complimented him on his sight reading. Seeing him on familiar terms with the musicians did dampen the enthusiasm of several mothers and daughters, but other girls merely thought him more clever and desirable. He stayed on with the musicians after the ball was over to avoid unwanted approaches and invitations on the way to his cabin, and ended the night learning new tunes until after 2 am.

  The following morning Daniel decided that he had to take drastic action if he wanted some peace and quiet in order to be heartbroken and to wallow in misery. While at breakfast he asked one of the stew-ard-musicians to introduce him to the chief engineer.

  ‘So you want to look at the engine hall?’ said the engineer. ‘Aye, I suppose I can have Alderson give you a tour later today.’

  ‘Please sir, you misunderstand,’ said Daniel. ‘I want to stay down in the engine hall.’

  ‘Stay there? Why?’

  ‘Just to – to get a feel for it. I always liked looking at the steam trains in Melbourne, and I thought the engines of a ship would be a lot more impressive.’

  ‘That they are. Very well then, come along with me now. Mind though, stay with me and don’t touch anything unless you have my say so.’

  The ship was new, so the engine hall was freshly painted and clean. Massive machinery gleamed as it moved, pumped and rotated, and the shadowy stokers at the furnaces seemed like demons stoking the infernal fires of the underworld.

  ‘You do seem to like this place, laddie,’ said the engineer after Daniel had stood quietly watching the routine of the engine hall for a full hour.

  ‘I like engines, sir,’ said Daniel, who had actually been thinking about a picnic with Muriel. ‘Without the engines, those ladies and gentlemen up above would be going nowhere. Engines are what make the world work.’

  ‘Spoken like a true Scot.’

  ‘I’m afraid I’m English.’

  ‘Nothing wrong with that, they led the Industrial Revolution once we showed them what to do.’ The engineer pointed to one of the engines. ‘So, what do you know about this fine lady?’

  ‘This is one of two triple expansion steam engines driving twin screw propellers.’

  ‘Ah, but do you know what that means? Lots of brainless goats up above have memorised words from the brochures, just to impress the ladies.’

  ‘The hottest steam is used in the smallest cylinder, but is still warm enough to be useful as it is expelled. It gets piped to a bigger cylinder, one that works at a lower pressure. After that it goes to the biggest cylinder, and is used one last time. All that saves fuel, because it makes the most efficient use of the steam.’

  The engineer was impressed. ‘That’s splendid, young man. Where did you learn that?’

  ‘My best friend’s father worked in the railways, so I’ve spent years having steam engines explained to me.’

  ‘Are you planning a career in engineering?’

  ‘Not unless I can run away to sea, sir. My father wants me to study at Oxford, then go into law.’

  ‘Does he now? What say I make you something of an apprentice while we steam to Colombo? That way you can get a real taste for engine-hall life before you decide to run away to sea.’

  ‘Sir, do you really mean it?’ asked Daniel eagerly.

  ‘That I do. I have some books in my cabin that you can borrow as well.’

  For the next two days Daniel spent all his waking hours in the engine hall. On the first morning he followed the greasers as they lubricated the enormous joints and pistons of the twin engines, but all the while he fantasised about doing nude sketches of Muriel. In the afternoon he watched the stokers shovelling coal, making air channels in the furnaces and breaking up slag, yet he was pretending that Fox was a stoker and was too stupid to do anything else. The following day he even ate in the engine hall, avoiding the saloon altogether. He made notes on what the readings on the gauges should be, the roles of all the people, and the meanings of the signals from the bridge, all interspersed with love poetry dedicated to Muriel. By the end of the second day he was feeling like a brokenhearted engineer instead of a lovesick schoolboy, and for some reason Daniel was rather proud of this.

  On the third day Barry was released into Daniel’s supervision. Daniel found himself acting as Barry’s chaperone because he spent all his time in the engine hall. This was a place where Barry could not offend anyone important, and in the words of the master-at-arms, ‘With luck he might even get himself killed.’

  ‘Dunno why ya wanna look after these friggin’ engines all day,’ muttered Barry as Daniel went about with him, explaining what the greasers had to lubricate, and why.

  ‘Engines are like Liore,’ Daniel replied.

  ‘Eh? Wotcha mean?’

  ‘They are powerful and reliable, as long as you serve them faithfully.’

  The subject was clearly one that unsettled Barry, and he failed to come up with an amusing or even annoying reply.

  ‘Ya sound like ya keen on that daft bat,’ was all that he could manage.

  ‘She is not a daft bat, and she is above mere human emotions,’ said Daniel firmly.

  ‘Wot’s that mean?’

  Daniel decided that this was the time to unsettle Barry very seriously. Liore would run him to earth eventually, and when that happened Barry needed to know that Daniel would neither help him nor even offer sympathy.

  ‘Liore is my queen, beautiful and terrible. I am barely worthy to serve her or die for her. I love her like I love the British Empire. Both are much greater than I am.’

  Knowing what was in his bag, in his cabin, chained to his bed, Barry was suddenly anxious to change the subject.

  ‘Thought ya loved Muriel,’ he said, delicately steering Daniel onto another topic.

  ‘I did love Muriel, and I still do.’

  ‘Ya can’t mean it!’ exclaimed Barry, genuinely shocked. ‘I mean ya was holdin’ hands and kissin’ her for three weeks, but all the while she was posing nude for Foxy – and probably doin’ things like in them piccies on page thirty-seven of that educational book of mine.’

  Daniel sighed. ‘Probably.’

  ‘Yeah, no wonder he kept it for a week. Hope ya don’t mind me lendin’ it to him, like.’

  ‘Mind? No. I just hate myself for not . . . for not living up to Muriel’s expectations. I failed Muriel by being such a prude.’

  ‘Yeah. If she’d whipped her dress off for me I’d have tried to draw something, even though I can’t draw.’

  ‘I also failed Liore, and she is my queen. I shall die with her despising me. She thinks I am a foul betrayer, a traitor and a cad.’

  ‘Wot happened? Did she strip off for ya, too?’

  ‘Barry! How dare you?’

  ‘But I only –’

  ‘No she did not, and she never would.’

  ‘Then wot?’

  ‘I deserted her.’

  ‘Wot? By goin’ to school in England?’

  ‘You could not understand. She hates me, and that’s an end to it. All I can wish for is that her hand is the one that ends my life.’

  ‘Danny boy, get a grip!’ cried Barry in alarm. ‘Listen to what yer saying. That sorta talk gets ya locked in the looney bin an’ tied up in one o’ those white jackets.’

  Daniel looked at Barry very intently for a moment, then gazed up at the engine beside them.

  ‘You are right, Barry. For now I must distract myself by caring for these engines.’

  ‘Yeah, but what about me?’

  ‘The chief engineer thinks you should be a goonya man, clearing slag out of the furnaces.’

  ‘Ya mean one of those poor bastards wot wears wet sacks over their heads ’cause it’s so hot where they gotta work?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘But I’m a first-class passenger.’

  ‘You are a first-class passenger who stole first-class crockery and cutlery, got drunk in the smoking ro
om, vomited into the captain’s cigar box, then squirted milk through his tear ducts onto Lady Matindale, Lady Scott-Bugden and Baroness Featherington. You must behave and work hard if you want to sail on to London.’

  ‘And if I don’t?’

  ‘You will be thrown off the ship at Colombo.’

  The prospect of being alone in a country where they did not speak English was for Barry much the same as solitary confinement. Wearing a goonya sack over his head, and under instruction from the other firemen and stokers, Barry learned to prod at the glowing slag in the furnaces with an iron rake until it broke up, then progressed to building channels for the air amid the glowing coals.

  Daniel continued to work alongside the chief engineer. To his surprise, he found himself thinking about Muriel less often, because he actually liked to operate and maintain engines that were bigger than the average house. Games on the promenade deck and social events for the amusement of bored and jaded rich passengers were of no interest to him, but he could not entirely avoid all that.

  ‘Please explain to me again why the ship’s engineers have to attend a fancy dress ball,’ said Daniel as he met the chief engineer and several other officers in the room behind the bridge.

  ‘Passengers like to see the human face of the crew, my lad.’

  ‘They see the stewards.’

  ‘But the stewards don’t steer the ship, tend the engines, predict the weather, and know where to steer on an ocean that looks the same in every direction. Dinner at the captain’s table is all very nice, but there’s nothing like mingling with the officers to inspire confidence on a ship.’

  ‘So what am I tonight?’ asked Daniel.

  ‘While your mask is on, you are whoever you like. If you take it off, you are a passenger.’

  Once again Daniel was alone, and he was not happy about it. He did not even have Barry to talk to, because Barry was definitely not welcome at the ball. This time the announcements were made for the costumes rather than the people wearing them. Among the women there were three overdressed Cleopatras, an elderly Josephine Bonaparte, a Queen Elizabeth and two Britannias. Male characters included five Sherlock Holmes, one Dr Watson, a Captain Nemo, and three Lord Nelsons. Eleven passengers came as Romans wearing togas, as these costumes were easy to improvise from bedsheets. The remaining dancers were just wearing masks with their ordinary clothes or uniforms. Daniel wore his academic gown and a mask, carried the cardboard dagger his mother had packed, and had himself announced as Mr Smith, Master Spy. He was recognised and set upon instantly by several mothers and their daughters.

  ‘We were so worried about you,’ said one girl breathlessly. ‘You have not been seen for over a week. Mother asked one of the stewards if you might have fallen overboard, but he said that you were all right.’

  ‘Thank you for your concern,’ said Daniel. ‘I have just been in the engine hall.’

  ‘The engine hall! Whatever for?’

  ‘I like big engines. My intention now is to become a ship’s engineer instead of following a career in law.’

  The girl’s mother took her aside and whispered to her. Daniel caught something about not marrying a man who shovels coal, then the girl was whisked away into the crowd. The next girl presented for Daniel’s attention asked whether he had been seasick. Daniel made the same reply about being in the engine hall for the week past, but this time her mother thought he was embarrassed about being seasick, and was lying. She presented him with a small bottle of seasickness pills.

  The dancing consisted of the usual mixture of waltzes, polkas and gallops, but with several folk dances added to loosen up the mood. Loosening up was certainly achieved when one of the Romans had the hem of his toga trod upon during the ‘Waves of Tory’ and was left wearing his sandals, mask and nothing else. After this excitement there was a display of Morris dancing by four of the stewards. Daniel spent as much time as he could with the band, and was even allowed to play the piano while the pianist toured the dance floor, supervising during the folk dances. Now Daniel noticed that some girls, and even some women, were loitering near the band. Some were smiling boldly at the players.

  How can I nurse a broken heart and prepare to die tragically when there are all these girls swarming around me? wondered Daniel yet again as he played.

  A break in the dancing meant that the singer had ten minutes to fill in. She sang a selection of songs from Gilbert and Sullivan operettas, and because Daniel had spent years playing the piano in the living room while his father and sister sang songs from the same shows, he continued to play. As the musicians returned for the next bracket of dances, Daniel felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Julia, the singer. She was about ten years older than Daniel and had what his sister called a wanton manner.

  ‘Daniel, you’ve been playing for two hours,’ she said. ‘Come away, take a break.’

  ‘I don’t mind playing on, miss.’

  ‘I’ve been watching you, luv. The girls and their mothers have been trailing after you all night, and you look unhappy about it. Did you leave a special girl behind in Australia?’

  ‘A special girl left me, miss. I’ve been sent away to forget.’

  ‘Was it for someone else?’

  ‘Yes, and he is above my station.’

  ‘Thought so. Come along, we’re going for a walk.’

  Out on the promenade deck they found themselves alone and looking out over the dark ocean. The night was warm and balmy, for they had just crossed the Tropic of Capricorn.

  Daniel had found Julia a bit unsettling from the moment he had first seen her. Having quite large breasts and hips but a relatively narrow waist, she could easily have been one of the women posing in Barry’s French postcards. She was also quite pretty, but with more suave grooming than the teenage Muriel. Her general manner suggested that she would probably have been quite willing to disrobe and pose for the cameras herself. Thoughts of Muriel taking her clothes off entered Daniel’s mind. fulia and Muriel are very similar, he decided. This might be a good chance to practise being sophisticated, so I’ll not be such a fool when I meet Muriel again.

  ‘It’s a beautiful night,’ said Julia, looking up at the sky. ‘I wonder what those two pretty stars are.’

  ‘They are the planets Jupiter and Saturn,’ said Daniel.

  ‘If there were a moon it would be just so romantic.’

  ‘The moon will rise in about three hours.’

  ‘Goodness! You seem to know the sky as well as the ship’s navigator.’

  ‘I like the sky. It’s very reliable, not like people.’

  ‘Poor Daniel. You look like an eligible young bachelor, you talk like a world-weary old man, yet all the while you are a schoolboy.’

  For a time they walked slowly in silence. A steady wind from the ship’s motion played over them, but the air was warm.

  ‘Why do they have so many social things so early in the voyage?’ said Daniel presently.

  ‘That’s so shipboard romances can start early,’ said Julia.

  ‘Truly?’

  ‘Truly. Romance is why a lot of people take a voyage. In London or Melbourne you are just another face in the crowd, but on a ship you are part of a sort of exclusive club. People talk to strangers more easily, and you know where that leads.’

  ‘So people start courting without being introduced?’

  ‘Oh yes, it’s a big adventure. Nothing is arranged or predictable.’

  ‘But strangers might well be rogues!’ said Daniel. ‘Even I might be a rogue, yet girls and their mothers set upon me whenever I emerge from the engine hall.’

  ‘I’ve met a lot of rogues. Believe me, Daniel, they are not like you. Ever wonder how I ended up here?’

  ‘You auditioned for a shipping company?’

  ‘No, I ran away with an exciting rogue. After a few weeks my money was gone. I woke up one morning to find that he was gone too, and that the hotel room was not paid for. I was lucky. I couldn’t go home, but the hotel manager let me work in the kitche
n, washing dishes. One day the singer in his restaurant was sick, so I borrowed a good dress and sang in her place. A man in the band started recommending me to music halls and other hotels, and soon I was able to stop washing dishes and sing for a living. One thing led to another, and when I decided I wanted to see the world I got a job on a ship.’

  ‘It sounds like a wonderful life,’ said Daniel. ‘I envy you.’

  ‘Oh, it was not all good times. I did a lot of things to survive that were a bit horrible, but I had a lot of luck, so here I am: twenty-five, a thousand pounds in the bank, and around the world seven times. What about you?’

  ‘I’m a schoolboy for one more year, then I’m at Oxford, then I’m a lawyer.’

  ‘Yet you want to run away to sea, you are good on the piano, and you know about things like planets.’

  ‘And I also depend on my father for all my money.’

  ‘So did I, yet here I am. How old are you?’

  Daniel took out his pocket watch and glanced at it.

  ‘In about half an hour, sixteen.’

  ‘Truly? Tomorrow is your birthday?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I was sixteen when I ran away, it’s easy. All you have to do is let go. Why not start running in half an hour?’

  Daniel shook his head.

  ‘Death is behind me, Miss Julia. There is no point in running.’

  ‘Death?’ exclaimed Julia. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Death is my only escape. Leave it at that.’

  ‘I think I understand,’ she said, reaching across to take his hand. ‘Do you know what I find? Bad times don’t last. Just do your best and get your mind onto other things until life improves.’

  ‘You wouldn’t believe how bad the bad times are.’

  ‘Then let me distract you until we reach Colombo, so that you don’t jump over the side.’

  ‘Distract me?’ asked Daniel nervously. ‘How?’

  ‘Not how, why. Being distracted gets you two days closer to the good times. After that, I can’t help. I’m leaving the ship at Colombo and going to China.’ Julia squeezed his hand. ‘Promise you will not kill yourself.’