"If we share a bed at night?" I suggested, nodding at the single bunks placed on either side of the cabin. "It looks like a tight squeeze. When we're under way, I'll ask the cabin staff to help me move them closer together." This didn't seem to alleviate her distress and I realised her real concern wasn't about herself or her children at all. "I'll be fine, Anne. William and I shared a cabin on a cargo ship once and I'm looking forward to revisiting that memory. In these far more luxurious surroundings."
For a moment, she looked shocked and I wanted to take my words back, but she dropped her voice to whisper, "Jackson and I...well, I did tell you I was a nurse during the Great War. What I didn't say is that...sometimes the hospital beds were used by more than just the patients." She blushed.
Before I could ask her for details, she hurried out of the room, wishing me a safe voyage.
Yes. Yes, I wished for a safe voyage, too. One where I didn't have to save William from any shipwrecks or sharks. Sighing, I settled down in a chair, book in hand, to wait for William to join me so our honeymoon could truly start.
Nine
Some time during the afternoon, I'd shifted my chair to a better position to watch the comings and goings on the triangular jetty through the window. Yes, window – no poky portholes here, but an unimpeded view through a full-sized window. And a private bathroom, so there'd be no naked sprints along the corridors between my room and the washing facilities. This time, I hoped to avoid the hold altogether.
Captain Hughes returned to the ship, as did most of the crew. Very little cargo was loaded onto the Islander – either it was already aboard, or the ship was carrying a very light load back to Singapore. I resolved to ask William when he arrived, but there was no sign of him yet. I wasn't worried – he'd promised to come when he'd finished work for the day and the train trucks were still bumping down the incline from Drumsite. Surely he wouldn't be much longer.
My stomach rumbled threateningly, as it had done several times this afternoon. Perhaps if I sought out something to eat while I waited for William, it might help the time pass more quickly. Water knew I wasn't a patient woman. I slipped on my shoes and strolled confidently to the kitchen.
Déjà vu. That's the phrase I'd heard Anne use when our unvaried activities seemed repetitive. She'd used the words twice this afternoon – each time I inevitably beat her at billiards. My past experience in this kitchen predated my friendship with Anne, though.
For a moment, I recalled the taste of the chocolate cake I'd stolen on my first foray into this kitchen. Now, I'd take William's cake with equal impunity...but I'd leave some to share with him later. Doubting I'd be lucky enough to find such a treat in the kitchen today, I crossed to the room where the refrigerators whirred.
A thorough search revealed neither chocolate or cake, but I did find a pan of kampung fried rice that was more than adequate for my needs. I carried it to the kitchen, where the stove flummoxed me entirely. There was no wood in the kitchen and the stove had nowhere that looked like a firebox. How in water could I heat something up with no fire or wood? Annoyed, I returned the rice to the refrigerator and dug out the fixings for a sandwich instead.
As I placed the second slice of bread on top, I marvelled that this was the first time since I'd left the Islander that I'd prepared my own food, for Cook hadn't even let me boil water in her domain. I lifted the sandwich and bit into it, resolving to get a little more practice in the kitchen when we returned to the island. If I'd been paying more attention, I'd have realised that the bread was three days stale and I'd done a poor job of spreading the cold-hardened butter over its crumbly surface.
What I'd give for a cup of tea to wash it down with, I thought, looking around, but the stove still mystified me.
"Ma'am?"
I whirled and came face to face with a man who looked more shocked than I was. I fought the urge to run, as I would have on my first trip on the Islander. This time I was a paying passenger, or at least I presumed so, so I stood my ground.
"What are you doing here?" he continued.
I fought to swallow my dry mouthful. "Making a sandwich and wondering what one has to do on this ship to get a cup of tea."
"I can make you tea, ma'am. Would you like it served in the passengers' lounge?"
There was a lounge on the ship? That was news to me. I'd thought everyone ate in the mess hall outside the kitchen, as they had on the Trevessa.
"No," I said finally. "In my room, please." I didn't want William to have to look for me and the first thing he'd do when he came aboard would be to wash and change his clothes.
"Which room, ma'am?"
I hadn't paid attention to the markings on the room door. "Mr McGregor's." Everyone knew William, surely.
His eyes widened. "You're Mr McGregor's sister?"
For a moment, I felt like there was a school of small fish swimming in my stomach. Why did everyone seem frightened at the prospect of meeting Sarah? Should I be scared of the woman, too?
"No. I'm his wife."
Bile rose in my throat and I grabbed my sandwich before striding out of the kitchen. I made it to my cabin before I threw up spectacularly in the wash basin. Thank water for private bathrooms.
Ten
I'd barely managed to tidy myself up and resume my seat in the cane chair when I heard a light, persistent tapping at the door.
"Yes?" I called.
"Your tea, Mem," a Malay voice replied. "I need to get back. The Yeiryo Maru needs our berth and Captain Hughes wants all hands to get us ready to leave the cove."
"Come in then."
The crewman cracked open the door and shouldered his way in. I realised why when he set the tea tray on the table before me – the ship's cook hadn't just made tea. He'd produced biscuits and finger sandwiches, then laid them out like a formal afternoon tea for two. I knew I certainly couldn't eat it all.
Hoping the bountiful food meant William was on his way, I thanked the man and he hurried off. I glanced out the window, but it was now too dark to see the jetty, so I gave up and turned back to the table. My sandwich made me sick to my stomach again at the sight of it, but I thought the biscuits should be safe enough. I nibbled on the edge of one, discovered it was shortbread, and began munching happily. Two biscuits later, I decided I needed some tea.
Steam swirled up as I filled my cup and I inhaled eagerly. I shouldn't have – the tea was William's muddy English sort, not the fragrant jasmine I preferred. My stomach clenched in protest.
Oh no. No, not again.
I brought the biscuits back up into the wash basin, along with the water I'd drunk earlier to soothe my bile-burned throat. I splashed water on my face in an effort to freshen up, but I managed to splash the front of my dress, too, soaking through my brassiere to my skin. Clumsily, I shed my wet clothes and climbed into bed, where I drifted into slumber.
I woke to the bass vibration of the Islander's engine in the bowels of the ship. We were leaving, that's all, I told myself muzzily. That's why I was aboard the ship. Because it was taking William and I to Singapore.
William...where was William? I peered around the darkened cabin, but the other bed was empty. No. We couldn't leave without William. If he wasn't aboard, then I needed to return to shore.
I scrambled out of bed, staggering across the cabin as the ship moved beneath me. The wave of dizziness that rolled over me didn't help. Should never have eaten that sandwich. Those biscuits. Or so much as touched that damn tea...
I barely made it to the wash basin before I fell to my knees, bringing up the remaining contents of my stomach and what felt like the rest of my digestive tract, too. I stuck my mouth under the tap to rinse it, unable to reach a cup from my kneeling position. Then I slumped to the floor and passed out.
Some time later, I woke up enough to realise that I lay on the most uncomfortable bed I'd ever known. Not even Dubhan's stone alcove below the Grotto had been this hard. But my heartbeat galloped along like William's Triumph engine, dragging my senses into alert
ness. Something else was wrong.
I surveyed the room, but nothing seemed different. Then a chink of light appeared that should have been blocked by the closed door, widening as I watched. A large shadow outside became visible, before it slipped quietly into the room. A sharp click sounded and the room flooded with light, blinding me.
"What are you doing, lying naked on the floor, lass?"
"William," I said weakly, squinting up at him. "Wasn't...feeling well."
"Well, I did plan on carrying you off to bed." His arms encircled me, cold and damp and smelling of the sea, before I sank into a soft mattress. "And I'll be joining you, too. Rowing a lighter from Waterfall after a full day's work is a fool's errand, but when I knew I had you waiting for me...I'd have swum the distance, I swear. We can start our honeymoon in the morning, after a good night's rest."
I settled into my bed. Nothing was wrong now. William was here and everything would be wonderful.
Eleven
Weak sunlight tickled my eyelids and I blinked. Filtered through the net curtains, the rising sun seemed gentler. Despite the heat, I cuddled closer to the warm body at my side. It's not often I got to enjoy William at dawn. He'd thrown the bedclothes off, leaving his full, naked glory to be kissed by the morning sun. And me. Definitely by me. Sweat already glistened on his skin, and I longed to lick it off.
There was one part of him I wanted to taste more than the rest. I glanced down and was gratified to see that this bit was definitely awake, even if his eyes were still closed. My thoughts strayed to the Kama Sutra I'd been reading last night, describing in infinite detail how to pleasure a man with my mouth, all the while saying that a woman who did that was wanton and not worth sleeping with. Ah, but William would make up his own mind. If he wasn't interested, I'm sure he could suggest another style of sex.
I slid down the bed so I was level with his hips. Leaning over, I pressed a light kiss on the tip, feeling him harden further in response. My loins ached, but I wanted this more. I opened my mouth, then realised I'd need to open it wider still – William was hardly a small man. Feeling like a very nervous whale shark, I grasped his shaft with both hands and guided him between my parted lips. My mouth was full with just the tip. I sucked on him gently, hearing him moan as his eyes flew open.
For a moment, we regarded each other – me with my mouth full of his hot, hard flesh, as his hands curved around the back of my head.
"I'm all yours, lass. If you like the taste of me, take as much as you like."
I took this as permission, swirling my tongue around his salty tip before sucking the length of him down my throat. I'd swallowed fish whole that were a similar size, but never so hot or thrumming with William's pounding pulse. I fell into a rhythm, tasting the length of him up and down as he seemed to swell further until I thought he'd burst.
And burst he did, coating my tongue and throat with salt all the way down. I swallowed, and swallowed again, aware of William's shouts as his hands tugged at my hair, but not wanting to release him until I'd sucked him dry. This was my triumph and I wanted to drink every drop.
He released my hair and I felt him withdraw, until I could press my swollen lips together again. William hoisted me up the bed so that my face was level with his once more.
"That was the best damn wake-up call a man can get," he said. "Were you saving that for the honeymoon?"
"Saving it, yes," I replied. "But I don't know what a honeymoon is, or what we're supposed to do on one."
William chuckled, rocking the bed...no, beds beneath us, for he'd pushed them together while I'd slept. Good. I didn't want to sleep apart and the extra space could come in useful for some of the other things I wanted to try with him.
"Well, normally it's when a husband introduces his wife to intimacy and she adjusts to..."
"Having a hard, pounding penis inside her?" I suggested. I eyed his. "Or having to wait between...um, bouts? Is that the word? Having to wait while he recovers before the pounding can resume? Anne said something about wives having to wait. And she was worried about me. I know I'm not very patient."
William choked. Red-faced, he managed to say, "I was going to say sharing a bed with him."
"I already share your bed," I grumbled. "And I wake up beside you only to hear that your tea is ready or you have to leave for work, without a chance to enjoy our time together before we get interrupted."
William pulled me closer, kissing the top of my head. "I've told the captain and crew not to bother us on pain of...my displeasure. This is our honeymoon."
I perked up. "You mean that it's like our first morning together, and you'll give me more than a goodbye kiss?"
He chuckled again. "After your morning wake-up kiss, I'm about ready to give you anything you want for the rest of the trip, lass. Just name it and it's yours."
"You. Deep inside me for as long as possible and...ohhhh!"
He rolled and entered me swiftly, filling me with searing heat. "What else do you want, lass?" he asked huskily as he began to move inside me. Deep and then almost out and then oh so deep and...
I let out another moan. "You. You, William. Forever and don't stop...please don't stop!"
Twelve
Even after a lukewarm bath with William, some of my insides still felt molten. The snarling of my stomach was becoming more and more of a distraction, though, so William insisted that we dress and go to the lounge for breakfast.
I reached for my box of pins as I watched William's reflection buttoning his shirt in the mirror. I wanted those hands on me. My aching breasts, restrained by my brassiere and covered by a modest dress, agreed with me. I set the box down and seized my comb and some ribbon instead. "William, would you braid my hair for me?"
He grinned, took the hair-primping items from my hands and pulled me into his lap on the bed. Fifteen blissful minutes later, his hands cupped my cheeks, turning my head for a kiss. "You look beautiful, lass. I'm going to have trouble keeping my hands off you while we're at breakfast."
"I don't mind," I said lightly.
"I do," he replied, setting his hat on his head. It wasn't the pith helmet he usually wore on Christmas Island. "This is no cargo ship like the Trevessa. We'll be in the captain's lounge and on our best behaviour. I wouldn't want to embarrass you, lass."
My heart sank. So much for a holiday – I'd need to remember my high society manners even on the ship. I opened my trunk in search of a hat and gloves.
Suitably dressed, I took William's arm and stepped out into the passage. It was more a veranda than a passage, given that one side was open to the air and sea, even if the waves were several levels below us. If this was as close to the ocean as I'd be able to get, then I'd make the most of it. My life was on land with William and no one would take him from me again.
William had caught my glance at the water. "Don't worry, lass. I won't let anything happen to us aboard this ship. She's new and in good repair, and not a single man aboard would dare cross me. You've nothing to be afraid of."
I laughed – William had misread my mood entirely. "I've never been afraid of the ocean. I was thinking how good it is to be at sea again with you."
William shook his head. "I've never met a man with as much courage as you, let alone a woman. After all that's happened to you...you're remarkable, lass. I'm lucky to have you for a wife."
I gave him a searching look, expecting sexual innuendo in his words, but his admiration seemed to encompass far more than this morning's joining. "I'm lucky you plucked me from the waves, William. I love you." I stretched up to kiss him, but he turned his face away so my lips only met his freshly-shaved cheek.
"Best behaviour, lass. We must both restrain ourselves."
I sighed and we resumed walking.
The captain's lounge was an airy, well-lit room aft of the cabins, but on the same level. The windows faced the ship's wake and the open ocean, for Christmas Island had faded over the horizon some time during the night. Inside, it was furnished with card tables surrounde
d by cane chairs, and sofas pushed against the walls. It wasn't dissimilar to the lounge at the Christmas Island Club – in fact, some of the sofas were even upholstered with the same fabric. I regretted leaving my Emily Post book behind – I could have done with an etiquette reminder to bolster my resolve, but it was too late now. I'd simply have to brazen it out and use my time in Australia as an excuse for my rusty manners.
William introduced me to the captain with an emotionless: "Mrs McGregor, my wife," and I found myself shaking hands with the man.
Captain Hughes' eyes flared with recognition and my heart sank further. He remembered me from Fremantle. I only hoped some of the stiff manners we were expected to use would stop him from asking how I'd arrived at the island.
William cleared his throat and I dropped Captain Hughes' hand to sit in the chair William had pulled out for me. He rounded the table to sit across from me – tantalisingly out of reach, as if he knew I wouldn't behave myself if I could touch him.
Captain Hughes took the seat between us, marking me as the most important lady present – the only lady present, for there were only the three of us at a table for four – and William as his highest-status guest.
Two servants waited on our table, serving William and I first as if the captain didn't matter. He didn't seem put out by this at all – in fact, his eyes were turned anxiously to William the whole time. I vaguely recalled the captain saying once, long ago in Fremantle, that this was a company ship and subject to the company hierarchy, which placed William higher than him.
Hoping my stomach had recovered from its upset last night, I took a cautious bite of toast. When this didn't seem to cause me too much discomfort, I attempted a little more. After I'd finished it, I decided to try the boiled egg, as the smell of Captain Hughes' was tempting my appetite. I sliced off the top, nodded as one of the servants offered salt, then carefully spooned a tiny portion of egg into my mouth.
Ocean's Cage Page 3