Katie smiled sweetly. ‘You could come back to our house, if you like.’
This was a surprise. ‘Oh, well, I will have to ask my mother!’ I said.
‘Yes, do,’ said Tess. ‘We will come with you.’
‘And, sure,’ said Katie, ‘if she says no, we could always play at your house instead. We don’t mind.’
It had been a long time since I had brought friends home with me. ‘I will see what my mother says, but it should be alright for me to come to your house.’
They smiled at me.
‘What do you normally do after school?’ I asked.
‘It depends,’ said Tess. ‘On Tuesday, we have piano practice. Then, we visit our grandmother on Wednesdays. On Thursdays, Mother insists on us practising boring needlework as it is her favourite thing to do. Fridays are the best because we usually go to a café and have ice cream.’
‘Which,’ said Katie, ‘is our favourite thing to do. Isn’t it, Tess?’
I envied them having one another. ‘What about Mondays, today?’
‘Oh,’ said Katie. ‘Mondays are for our friends. We only invite girls that we really like.’
They seemed rather excited, and buoyed by their mood, I gushed, ‘I love painting. In fact, I want to be an artist.’
The twins smiled politely, with Tess affirming, ‘I am useless at drawing. I much prefer eating ice cream.’
‘Me too,’ said Katie, laughing.
We had reached my house and, once more, the door swung open before I could knock, only this time it was Mama in the doorway, ignoring my companions and looking impatient for me to come inside.
‘Mama,’ I said, ‘Tess and Katie wondered if I might go to their house for a while.’
I smiled brightly to encourage her to smile too, in front of my friends, but she refused to. ‘No,’ she said, ‘not today.’
Tess tried, ‘Oh, but Mrs Coppin, our mother won’t mind. You see, we always have friends with us on Mondays.’
‘Not today, I’m afraid. Say goodbye, Ann!’
Confused, I looked at the twins, noting their amazement at their offer being so soundly rejected. ‘Goodbye, I will see you tomorrow,’ I said, trying to make it sound normal. Why couldn’t my mother be like other girls’ mothers, cheerful and friendly? They moved away reluctantly, possibly hoping that Mama would change her mind and only understanding that she would not when the door closed immediately after me. Aunt Harriet was in the hallway, looking distracted, saying, ‘Now, Dora, let us …’
I stumbled forward, my hat falling to the ground, thanks to my mother slapping me in the face. ‘You little fool!’ my mother hissed. ‘You stupid little fool. You told them we had a ghost.’
Aunt Harriet ran towards us, dragging me out of my mother’s reach and pushing me up the stairs. I howled from shock. I had never been slapped before and my cheek was stinging. Even so, I tried to defend myself. ‘It was an accident. I never said it. They just guessed!’
‘Is that so?’ sneered my mother. ‘They just happened to guess that we have a ghost. Do you expect me to believe that?’
Aunt Harriet took charge. ‘Ann, go upstairs and do your homework. Now!’
I did exactly that, not stopping until I reached my room, whereupon I flung myself on my bed and cried and cried. At some point, I ran out of tears and fell asleep. The room was dark when I woke to Aunt Harriet’s touch, as she said softly, ‘Ann, your parents want to talk to you. They’re waiting in the parlour.’
Striking a match, she lit the lamp beside my bed and on seeing my tear-streaked face whispered, ‘Oh, you poor wee lamb. Come on, it will be alright.’
I followed her downstairs, dreading seeing my mother again, and Papa too. As if guessing my thoughts, Aunt Harriet said, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be with you.’
Papa was sitting in his favourite armchair, while Mama perched beside him on a wooden chair, her back as straight as always, her hands in her lap. I shied away from looking at her face, while Papa told me to sit down. I took to the settee, thus allowing Aunt Harriet to sit next to me.
‘Now, Ann,’ began Papa, ‘it is time for us to have a proper talk about what is happening and has been happening for some time. I only wish we had done this earlier. If we had, today’s outcome might have been avoided.’
Hardly daring myself to speak, I pressed my lips together and felt rather forlorn as Papa continued, ‘Your mother and I would have preferred to have kept all the goings on a secret.’
Here, I interrupted. ‘I know, Papa. I’m sorry. But I didn’t tell; they just guessed.’
‘How?’ asked Mama. ‘I mean, how on earth could that have happened?’
‘Well, they were asking about Weesy, and then they told me about their cousin who died last year. She was only two and she fell out of her bedroom window. So, I just them asked if anyone had seen or heard her in the house.’
The three adults exchanged looks I could not read. Papa nodded at Aunt Harriet who spoke. ‘My dear, you know that what has happened with Weesy is quite extraordinary. It is not normal, if that is the right word.’
‘In other words,’ said Mama hotly, ‘the next time someone speaks about a death in their family, please do not ask if the dead person has been seen alive again.’
‘Yes, Mama.’
‘Oh, look,’ she said, to Papa and Aunt Harriet, ‘can’t we sort this out? Is this to continue? My child died months ago. We buried her. This cannot be right for any of us.’
Aunt Harriet rubbed her nose and sighed. ‘I have an idea but you may not approve.’
‘What is it?’ said Papa.
‘Well,’ continued Aunt Harriet, ‘I can ask a friend who has a friend, a lady, who deals with this sort of thing. We could ask her to come and meet Ann and just see what she thinks, I suppose.’
Papa scrunched up his features. ‘Do you mean someone claiming psychic powers or whatever, that they can somehow converse with the dead? Isn’t that somewhat ridiculous?’
To everyone’s surprise, Mama said, ‘Yes, it is. It sounds completely ridiculous but how else would you describe what has been happening here? Who are we to stand in judgement?’
Aunt Harriet nodded. ‘I think it is worth a try. If nothing comes of it, well and good, but we owe it to ourselves and even to Weesy to at least try.’
Still waiting to be convinced, Papa asked Aunt Harriet, ‘Who is your friend? What do we know about them? Are they the discreet sort? I cannot have my business colleagues and competitors being made privy to this.’
‘Do you really think,’ said Aunt Harriet, ‘that I would bring some mad woman here who could not be trusted? Firstly, Ann knows my friend Mrs Lee.’
‘My teacher?’
‘Yes, dear. Now you must promise me never to mention any of this to your friends. Not just for our sake but also for Mrs Lee. Do you understand?’
It was my turn to feel indignant. ‘Of course. I will not say a word.’
Aunt Harriet smiled. ‘Very well. Mrs Lee has indulged in these practices since losing her own daughter. So she understands the nature of our loss. Her friend is a Mrs Powell, who is, I believe, an extremely discreet woman who take her duties very seriously.’
‘I hardly dare ask what you mean by her “duties”,’ sniffed Papa.
The two women stared at him, obliging him to put up his hands. ‘Oh, alright. If both of you agree that this is for the best, then I agree so too.’
‘It is settled, then,’ said Aunt Harriet. ‘Let’s do this as soon as possible. What about eight o’clock tomorrow night?’
Mama and Papa nodded. Just then the door was opened, revealing my brother in his pyjamas, his hair askew and a dazed expression on his face. Mama exclaimed, ‘Good gracious, William, what are you doing out of bed?’
‘I had a bad dream,’ said William, lingering in the doorway until she reached for him.
‘What about, pet?’
He opened his eyes wide to solemnly announce, ‘I dreamt of the ships sinking and no one knew where they were.’
‘Whose ships, darling? Papa’s?’
‘No,’ replied William, ‘the ones in the Arctic.’
Papa laughed. ‘I must take the blame for this. We were talking about Sir John’s expedition earlier. It was just a dream, William. There is no way that the ships would sink, not the two of them anyway. Do not worry, they will be found very soon.’
‘Oh, dear,’ said Mama, ‘I fear you are becoming obsessed with those ships. Ann, bring your brother up to bed and perhaps read him a story to take his mind off his dream. A short one, mind you! It is way past your bedtime too.’
We kissed everyone goodnight and I led the way up the stairs. ‘What were you talking about?’ asked William.
‘You wouldn’t understand,’ I said.
‘I bet I would,’ grumbled William.
‘It was about Weesy, if you must know, but I cannot tell you any more than that.’
We had reached his room. As he climbed back into his bed, William muttered, ‘See, I knew it was about Weesy.’
‘How?’
‘She woke me up, didn’t she!’
‘But you said you had a bad dream about those ships.’
‘I did,’ said William. ‘But Weesy was in my dream too. She was there in the Arctic with the ships.’
‘Well,’ I said, ‘it was just a dream.’
And dreams don’t come true, do they?
15
22nd April 1848
Captain Crozier’s Journal
We leave the ships today.
Such a nice, short sentence that is as easy to write as it is to read and leaves out all the hard work and anxiety that goes into our departure.
This is what being a leader involves, making a tough decision and sticking to it. And this is exactly what I am doing but, my goodness, it is lonesome to struggle with doubt in silence. Can I truly walk my men to safety? Have I got what it takes? I never wished to be in charge as I have always felt more secure as a second-in-command.
I am abandoning ships because, at this stage, I truly feel that we have no other choice. It is either that or we remain cooped up on board Erebus and Terror and risk starvation. Furthermore, it is wise, I think, to give the men a mission, something grand to do. We will confound the Arctic by taking our lives into our own hands. I shudder to think of the strain involved in spending another year here. We must go forth, one footstep at a time, while sticking together at all costs. It is our only chance.
I can hear the men hard at work as we follow the proper Royal Navy procedure regarding the abandoning of ships.
Officer Fitzjames was here earlier, with his checklist, anxious that all is in order, telling me, ‘Everything that can be is either being tied down or hammered into place.’
I have made no formal announcement, but it seems that he promoted himself to the position of my second-in-command. To his credit, he treats me with respect and shows himself to be in complete agreement with my proposals. I imagine that he now appreciates the voice of experience. Meanwhile, it is my duty to instil confidence and leadership in the remaining officers, just in case they lose another commander, which is to say, me. I pretend not to see that the doctors are watching over me with Thomas’s, my steward’s, help. Last evening when I told Thomas that I had no appetite for dinner, I was visited first by Doctor McDonald and then Mr Goodsir. As soon as I recognised that my refusal to eat was causing undue concern, and distracting the doctors from their true patients, I changed my mind and had Thomas bring me a bowl of soup.
The truth is that there are scant few who could take my place.
Officer Fitzjames raised his voice to be heard over the pounding of hammers. ‘Also,’ he said, ‘I have some men sealing up the windows and all doorways. Once we have all disembarked, the final door on both ships will be sealed up.’
I nodded. ‘Yes, it is the least we can do for the ships, try and keep them safe from the weather, just in case they are needed once more.’
‘Is there anything else, sir?’
I thought hard and then remembered. ‘Ah, yes, the flags. That will be the last task, to raise the flag, the Royal Navy colours on both ships.’
‘It is on my list, sir.’
‘Good, good. I will entrust to you the job of burning the code books, just to be on the safe side. Take them out onto the ice and reduce them to ashes. We cannot have any foreigners stumbling upon them and then, thanks to us, having the means to communicate or attempt mischief with any British ships.’
Just then Terror’s bell sounded out and I could hear Erebus’s too. I checked my pocket watch to see it was ten o’clock. Until we are actually leaving, every passing hour will be marked by the bells, making it impossible to forget that we are up against time itself. It adds a certain solemnity to the occasion, making me think of funerals that I have attended.
Believe me, I do not wish to dwell on such morbid thoughts, but I suppose that is the nature of the bell. When rung repeatedly, it signifies great joy, like weddings or the beginning of a brand new year, whereas the solitary chime lulls the listener into reflecting upon melancholic times.
Officer Fitzjames scribbled something onto his checklist, admitting, ‘I had almost forgotten about the bells. I will have them tied up when we are going.’
‘It is a strange thing to have to do,’ I said, ‘to silence the ships. I suppose it is a blessing for them more than anything else. We cannot have them ringing out with every sea breeze, attracting the attention of the natives, if there are any around. They will take anything that is not nailed down. Although, it is peculiar that we have found no sign of human life in all the time we have spent here.’
‘Aye, sir! I have given orders to pack up beads, matches, buttons and anything else that we may barter for food, should we meet up with locals.’
I thought of something else. ‘I want us to retrace Lieutenant Gore’s footsteps and make an addition to the note he left in the cairn last year. It is important to leave a message as to what has happened to us thus far and where we are now headed.’
Officer Fitzjames was enthusiastic in his reply. ‘Absolutely, sir. I am quite sure that the Navy will send out search parties for us. For all we know, they are already on their way. We should make it as easy as possible for them to find us.’
‘Well, then,’ I said, ‘I am glad we are in agreement. How are the men by the way? Any trouble today?’
‘Oh no, sir. No trouble at all. In fact, their overall mood is very positive. Anyone I speak to is cheerful because we are finally going home.’
His words, said so confidently and assuredly, made me quiver. I leant over to pat Neptune’s head and shake off my fears. It seems that my second-in-command sensed my moment of panic for he said, ‘The men believe in you, sir. We all do.’
I picked up this pen to bring the conversation to an end. As anxious as I am to nurture this cooperation with Fitzjames and the others, I cannot, nay, will not share any maudlin thoughts with him. If I was him, I would want my commander to be a hundred per cent solid and capable. I would need to believe in him because, otherwise, what would be the point of following him into the wilderness? My lapses of dismay, or whatever, can be poured onto the pages of this diary and heaped onto the glossy head of Neptune, who knows how to keep secrets. Neptune also knows how to do a few other things too. For instance, he shepherded Fitzjames to the door, who could not help laughing, ‘It seems that I am being escorted off the premises.’
I smiled and did not like to say that Neptune was reading my mind. I wished to be alone for a while. To soften his being hurried out, I said, ‘Perhaps, when it is time to leave, you and other officers will join me in Sir John’s quarters for a glass of cognac. I would like to mark the moment of our leaving in true style.’
When he left, I gave Neptune a biscuit to thank him for his excellent work. ‘Clever boy!’
Our plan is to walk south, to the mouth of the Canadian Great Fish River. It is, I have calculated, about two hundred and fifty miles away and we should reach it by June. W
ith God’s help, we will find plenty of game there at that time of the year, birds and animals that will provide us with enough food to make the second stage of the journey. We have plenty of guns and ammunition amongst us.
As always, everything depends on the weather. I would hope that along with fresh food we will find the Great Fish River thawed out enough for us to boat our way to the nearest fort. This is Hudson Bay Company territory where we shall surely meet some of their fur traders and their families.
It sounds impossible and maybe it is.
No, I cannot think like that. My plan is as wildly ambitious as it is simple. We just have to walk to the river.
The men will have to drag our three lifeboats along on sledges. It is not going to be easy but, should we be successful, it will be worth all the hardship that awaits us still.
Thomas has arrived to help me pack up my belongings. One good thing about bringing the lifeboats is that we can treat them like colossal suitcases and fill them with our possessions. They allow us to bring bigger and heavier items, like our iron stoves. After all, there are over a hundred of us needing to be fed which makes the stoves a necessity. Other necessities include as much, if not all, of our canned food as we can squeeze in, medicine cabinets and, no surprise, lots and lots of blankets to combat the freezing temperatures at night.
Of course, the officers can bring more possessions. Thomas is packing my good silver cutlery. Well, it cost me a pretty penny and there is no way I am leaving any of it behind. Also, I will be needing books – novels and Bibles – along with this journal, of course, and extra paper to write notes upon. Writing is our sole means of helping any rescuers to find us and, therefore, is of immense importance to all of us. To this end, I will also take my writing desk and a healthy supply of pencils, pens and ink.
Thomas has just interrupted me to discuss my wardrobe. ‘Sir, I have several changes of clothes, outer and under, and all your good handkerchiefs. If it is alright with you, sir, I shall pack just one tin of polish for the buttons on your tunic. If used sparingly, it should last long after we return home again.’
Chasing Ghosts Page 14