A Girl Divided

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A Girl Divided Page 18

by Ellen Lindseth


  “She told me she’s cursed.”

  He winced. “Don’t put too much stock in what she says. She is grieving the loss of her husband, and a good friend. And, I’m ashamed to say, there were those in our group who blamed her for our misfortune. It hurt her greatly.”

  “Why in the world would they think that?” she asked, truly horrified by such cruelty, especially when Lavinia would have been freshly widowed at that point.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Marcus said firmly. “Lavinia is free of them now, and she knows what she needs to do to be restored to grace. All will be well.”

  “So she was guilty?” she asked hesitantly, not quite sure how to take his pronouncement. Lavinia had seemed so tenderhearted and compassionate on the train trip, willing to drop whatever she was doing if Genie needed to talk about her fears for her family or of the looming ocean voyage.

  “Not for the attack. For that, the Japanese bear full responsibility.” Then he sighed once more and looked down. “Though I will say trouble follows my little sister like a hungry dog, and always has. It was something my parents hoped to change by sending her to Thailand.”

  “It doesn’t sound like it worked.”

  “No.” He removed his flat-brimmed hat and dragged his fingers through his hair. “But I didn’t mean to burden you with family troubles. I only meant to thank you for helping make the journey easier on all of us.”

  A smile slowly found its way back onto his tired face, and he gestured toward the city streets teeming with life. “Shall we?”

  Chapter 17

  “Eugenia, have you seen Lavinia?” Nathan’s head popped around the edge of the sheet Genie was pinning to the clothesline, nearly giving her a heart attack. He clutched the brim of his straw fedora as a gust of sea breeze threatened to steal it.

  “Did you try the cabin?” She pulled another sheet out of the laundry basket and hung it next to the first one. After twelve days at sea, she couldn’t wait to sleep on clean linens again. While it didn’t bother her to do her cabin’s laundry, she had heard the shocked dismay of the more upscale passengers when they had learned the navy expected them to do their own.

  “Of course I did.” His voice held a touch of annoyance, but when wasn’t he annoyed with her these days? “I also visited the women’s Bible study, and she wasn’t there, either. Do you think she’s ill?”

  In a stroke of luck, a gust of wind billowed the freshly hung sheet, briefly obscuring him from view, because at that very moment a movement on deck directly above them caught her attention. It was Lavinia herself, long skirts whipping in the wind, stopping two sailors to talk. Or rather, more likely, to bum a cigarette.

  Genie sighed, irritated with both Nathan and her friend for putting her in the middle of their relationship. “You were just with her at breakfast. Did she look ill to you?” she asked, pushing the basket to the right, forcing Nathan to pivot toward the rail, further obscuring his view.

  “No, which is why this is so concerning,” he said, clutching his hat again. “We were going to meet at eleven, and she never showed. We wanted to tell you our good news together.”

  “Which is?” She shook out a pillowcase even as she kept one eye on Lavinia, who was now laughing with the sailors. Come on, Lavinia. Get your cigarettes and move already.

  “Mrs. Schmidt has agreed to be my wife!” Nathan said proudly.

  Her hands stilled. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t expected him to propose to her friend. From the moment the ship had cast off, he had hovered over Lavinia like an overprotective mother hen, which was likely why her friend would periodically disappear on him. A girl had to breathe, after all. Especially if she was going to be shackled to the likes of Nathan for the rest of her life.

  “Congratulations?” she finally managed.

  “I was expecting a bit more excitement,” he said drily.

  “It seems a bit hasty, is all.” She shook out a pillowcase, hoping to distract Nathan’s attention. The sheets had settled down, leaving Lavinia exposed again. “You’ve only known her three weeks. That’s not much time to really know someone.”

  Like that she’d taken up smoking to calm her nerves.

  “Actually, that’s another reason I wanted to talk to you. We’ll be docking in Cape Town in two days’ time, and I think it best if only Lavinia and I went ashore. We haven’t had much time alone together since the train trip, and I had planned to surprise her with an outing.”

  She stared at him, the pillowcase in her hands forgotten. Surely she hadn’t heard correctly. “Are you saying I’m to stay aboard?”

  “I won’t be able to chaperone you while I’m with Lavinia, and your father would have my head if I let you go ashore alone. If there’s anything you’d like me to pick up for you, like soap or toothpaste, give me a list, and I’ll see that it gets purchased.”

  “Are you sure that wouldn’t be too much to ask? Because Lord knows I wouldn’t want to intrude on your time with your fiancée,” she said, a slow fury building in her blood.

  “There’s no need to be rude, Eugenia. I’m trying to find a mutually agreeable solution here.”

  “Of course.” Sarcasm seeped into her voice. “Never mind that I’d be stuck on this boat, missing my one and only chance to ever set foot on African soil.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so melodramatic. I’m only asking for one day, Eugenia. One day without you tagging along so my fiancée and I can become better acquainted.”

  She clenched her hands behind her back, fighting the impulse to push him overboard. Her fingernails dug into her palms, the pain bringing tears to her eyes as she fought to be meek and polite, as she had been taught.

  “Did it ever occur to you that maybe your fiancée might want less time with you, and that’s why you can’t always find her when you want to?” She blurted the words out before she could stop them.

  There was a beat of silence as her betrayal of Lavinia’s confidence hung in the air. Desperately she wanted to call the words back. Her friend would never trust her again.

  “Unbelievable,” Nathan said with a half laugh. “You kiss another man in front of me, and now you have the temerity to be jealous?”

  “Jealous?” She almost choked on the word, all her anger rushing back. “You can’t be serious. You are positively the last person I would ever waste my affections on.”

  “That’s right. You’d rather play Jezebel to some pilot—someone who has undoubtedly already forgotten your existence—shaming your father and making a mockery of his ministry.”

  She winced inwardly at hearing her own doubts voiced aloud, but she would be damned before she would let Nathan gloat. “We were talking about my going into Cape Town, not any imaginary transgressions with Lieutenant Younan.”

  “And I’m telling you why your bad behavior in Calcutta is exactly why you’re not going ashore. I cannot depend on you to behave as a properly brought-up Christian woman.”

  “That’s not fair!”

  “I don’t care about fair. I care about obedience. Your father put me in charge of you, and I will not be remiss.”

  “You . . .” She struggled to think past the conflagration of rage incinerating her brain. “You’re awful. Vile. Despicable.”

  “And keeper of your passport. Let’s not forget that, should you be inclined to try to go without me. Lavinia has already learned her lesson on that subject. Perhaps it’s time you learned it, too.”

  “Gah, how I hate you!” She spun away before he could see the tears escape her eyes. The wet streaks were cold on her skin despite the bright sun. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t draw even the tiniest inhalation.

  “While I regret your sentiment,” he said coldly, “I will nevertheless do what I feel is in your best interests. Am I being clear?”

  Holding her breath in an attempt to maintain control despite the anger buffeting her, she nodded once.

  “Excellent.” Smug victory colored his voice, making her want to scream. “And if you see Lavinia,
tell her I’m looking for her. And don’t spoil my surprise.”

  She made herself hold absolutely still as he walked away, her fingers gripping each other so tightly her knuckles ached. Once he was gone, her breath escaped in a furious whoosh.

  Shaking and nauseated, she abandoned the laundry basket and went to the rail. Far off in the distance, a charcoal line smudged the horizon, barely visible to the naked eye. Africa: the Dark Continent—vast, mysterious, untamed. How nice it would have been to say she had once set foot on its fabled shores. Now it was only one more point marking her distance from home.

  Despair gripped her heart as the ocean crested and crashed against the ship in unceasing waves. As beautiful as she had come to find the endless water, she would trade the view in an instant to be back in her mountains among the tall fragrant cedars, back with the people who loved her and would always love her. Back to a time before the war had stolen everything.

  She closed her eyes and let go of the present. The sea spray became icy drizzle from low-hanging clouds. The crash of waves became nothing more than the thrashing of leaves before a gathering storm. Behind her, the village and its fields blanketed the narrow valley. If she turned, she would see her father’s home there at the edge. Li Ming’s laughter, like the tinkling of tiny metal bells, floated on the wind, and Genie shivered, having forgotten her cloak in the study.

  Smoke from the morning’s cooking fires filled her head, tangy and sharp . . .

  “Is he gone?” Lavinia asked from beside her.

  Genie jumped, the scene dissipating like mist, the acrid smoke of a cigarette filling her lungs. Her cheeks were wet. Embarrassed, she wiped them before glancing at her friend, who had so many more reasons to cry than she did.

  “For the moment. Did you know he means to leave me aboard when we reach Cape Town?”

  “I did.” Lavinia’s startlingly blue eyes studied her intently, and Genie wondered what she saw there. Despair? Defeat? Lord knew the undertow of both was pulling her under at the moment.

  Her friend opened her mouth as if to say something but then seemed to change her mind. She lifted the cigarette to her mouth, her gaze darting out to sea. When she exhaled, she let the smoke stream to the side, away from Genie. “What else happened?”

  “I told him you were avoiding him,” she admitted. “But he didn’t believe me.”

  Lavinia laughed, but it sounded tired. “I’m not surprised.”

  Genie studied her friend anew. Wisps of dark hair, having pulled free from her long braid by the wind, curled around the young widow’s face. The skin beneath her eyes was shadowed, bruised looking. Nathan was right about Lavinia needing rest, but not because she was working too hard. Genie was one of the few people who knew Lavinia rarely slept at night because of bad dreams. Now she wondered if perhaps those nightmares had as much to do with Lavinia’s future as her past.

  “You don’t have to marry him, you know.”

  Lavinia made a noncommittal sound as she kept her gaze on the horizon. Her cigarette dangled from her slender fingers as if forgotten. Finally, she spoke. “Do you believe in curses?”

  “No, not really.”

  “I do. So does my family. It’s why they forced me to marry John and then shipped me halfway around the world. Only misfortune followed along in my steamer trunk, and it ended up killing everyone I loved.”

  A chill ran through Genie. “No curse was responsible for the Japanese attack. So don’t even begin to think that. The war killed your husband. Not you.”

  “Are you sure?” Lavinia turned, her blue eyes as brittle as broken shards of glass. “Because, the Lord as my witness, I hated John. Hated him with every fiber of my immortal soul.”

  “You can’t mean that!” Genie protested, shocked by her friend’s blasphemy.

  “Why? It’s true.” Lavinia’s fingers trembled as she lifted the cigarette to her mouth. “He took my father’s advice and, after we were married, tried to exorcise my curse through strict discipline. I wasn’t allowed to talk to anyone unless he was present, wasn’t allowed to speak at all unless spoken to, and I was locked in a closet if he had to go somewhere without me. But it was all for my own good, you see. So no one intervened, even when he tried to beat the curse out of me.”

  Genie stared at her friend, shocked into wordlessness. No wonder Lavinia had never before spoken of her marriage.

  Flicking an ash over the side, Lavinia bit her lip and blinked, as if to stop tears. “After one particularly bad night, I tried to take my own life. Marcus finally spoke to him then, and things got a little better. At least until . . .”

  The rest of the sentence went unspoken as Lavinia hurriedly took another draw off the cigarette, but Genie heard the words anyway. Until the Japanese attacked.

  “Anyway,” the widow said after blowing another stream of smoke to the side. “The Good Lord has seen fit to give me a second chance with Nathan, and I don’t intend to squander it. Nothing can be as bad as what I’ve already lived through.”

  “I see.” Genie rubbed her arms, not quite sure what to think of Lavinia’s story. It seemed so far-fetched, and yet . . .

  Lavinia slid her an enigmatic glance. “I never properly thanked you for your help with Nathan. I feel bad that I’ve done nothing for you in return.”

  “Don’t. I really didn’t do anything.”

  “You kept Marcus busy on the train, which made all the difference. Tell me how I can return the favor, and I’ll do my best.”

  Help me go home was her first thought, which she squelched immediately because it was currently beyond anyone’s ability to grant. Her second one, be my friend, was even more pathetic, and one Lavinia wasn’t likely to understand. How could Genie explain that, despite all the time they had spent together and the confidences they had shared about their lives before the war and their worry over their future in the States, she still had the inexplicable sense that Lavinia was holding back? Perhaps the subtle distance was out of grief, or maybe Lavinia found her somehow lacking—Genie didn’t know—but it left her feeling lonelier than ever.

  “I wish I could experience Cape Town firsthand,” she said finally. “But I think I ruined any chance of that by insulting Nathan.”

  Lavinia tamped out her cigarette on the railing. “Perhaps, but leave Nathan to me. We still have a couple of days; things could change.” Then she laughed, and the shadows lifted momentarily from her eyes. “Did I tell you I’ve devised a little test for my besotted fiancé? I’m going to cut my hair every night, a half inch or so, and see how long it takes him to notice.”

  “You might go bald first.”

  “Maybe, though I doubt it. He’s always saying he sees me for who I really am, and I’d like to believe him. Some days I feel almost . . . invisible.”

  Genie understood the feeling. After so many times of being shoved aside, of having her opinions overlooked, it was hard not to feel that way. “Maybe you should cut my hair, too, and see if he notices.”

  Lavinia’s eyebrows lifted. “You would risk it? He’s likely not going to be pleased.”

  “He already thinks I’m incorrigible. Besides, think how much more modern I’ll look with short hair.”

  Lavinia laughed. “Fine. Let’s do it.”

  Chapter 18

  Seagulls showed up the next morning, though the ship didn’t seem to be any closer to the African coast. At lunch, despite the sign exhorting passengers to not feed the birds, Lavinia kept tearing off pieces of her sandwich and tossing them to the hungry scavengers. Nathan pretended not to notice, which only made Genie’s irritation with him sharper. She had no doubts that if she fed the birds, he would throw the proverbial book at her.

  Appetite gone, she looked out on the sparkling ocean and enjoyed the cool breeze as she waited for the other two to finish. With very little to do, having finished the laundry yesterday, she was in no hurry to leave, especially on such a nice day. A happy consequence of the voyage being sold out was that the mess hall was too small to accommod
ate all the passengers, so tall benches had been set up on the promenade for the more able-bodied passengers, such as the three of them, to take their meals outside whenever weather permitted, which was most of the time. On days like today, with the deck above providing a kind of awning to shade her from the hot sun, she couldn’t imagine wanting to eat anywhere else.

  A sailor ran past them, startling her from her reverie. Equally startled, Lavinia’s gull squawked and bolted out from under the bench in a frenzy of flapping wings. Nathan shot her a disapproving look and then went back to conversing with one of his new missionary friends, an American whose family had been serving in southern India.

  Genie glanced at Lavinia.

  Did you see that? She mouthed the words.

  Lavinia nodded, equally silent as she eyed the seagull, which was circling back for more food. It was shooed away by two more crewmen—officers, by the look of their khaki uniforms—strolling aft. One held a stopwatch, the other a stack of clipboards. Their pace was leisurely but purposeful.

  Genie bit her lip, her lunch all of a sudden not sitting quite right in her stomach. The passengers had been warned that there would be emergency drills. The hard truth was that the ship might encounter a German U-boat at any moment, especially once they rounded the cape, and it would only take one well-aimed torpedo to sink them. Everyone needed to be ready.

  Not ten minutes later, the general alarm bell rang out. The children at the next bench shrieked and covered their ears. Genie tensed as a short eerie silence settled over the deck and everyone waited for the next series of bells. Her heart fell as the expected alarm sounded: six short rings and then a long one. The signal to abandon ship. Almost as one, the diners collected their families and began heading for the stairs.

  She scrunched her napkin in her hand, waiting for Nathan to move. Her urge to follow the others had her shifting restlessly from one foot to the other as Nathan returned to eating, his friend having joined the rest.

  Lavinia shot her a look, the warning clear in her bright blue eyes.

 

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