Ocean's Cage

by Carlton, Demelza

  As before, our deck chairs were arranged under the canopy at the bow, but with the addition of a third for Sarah. It remained empty, though, as William produced our new-found copy of Arabian Nights and proceeded to read it aloud to me.

  Sarah's angry footsteps paced the deck from bow to stern to back again, but she didn't even join us when our tea was served. I presumed she took hers with the captain inside, but I didn't pay her much attention. William's storytelling enthralled me far too much for that.

  All good books come to an end, and it was toward the end of our afternoon tea that William closed this one. He gulped down the remains of his lukewarm tea and asked, "Would you like another book, lass?"

  "Yes, please."

  "I'll be back directly, then." He ambled off toward our cabin.

  Only a few seconds passed before Sarah landed in the chair beside me, panting as if she'd been running. "How'd you get that?" She pointed at a darkening bruise on my calf from my encounter with the chair last night.

  "I fell," I answered.

  She snorted as if she didn't believe me. "I've heard that one before, many times. I bet it's not the only one, is it?" She lifted the hem of my skirt and surveyed the results of a week's worth of clumsiness and slippery floors, which were just a backdrop for yesterday's blooming fresh bruises. "How could he? I never thought Will would..."

  I yanked my dress down over my knees. "It's not his fault. It's not like he can control – " the weather, I wanted to say, but she didn't let me finish.

  "He bloody well should be able to control himself, at least."

  I thought of last night and reddened. Neither of us had been particularly restrained, but William could hardly shoulder more than half the blame for it. My desire had burned at least as brightly as his, if not more so. "It was my fault, honestly. He said..." Propriety made me hesitate. Talking about sex in public was definitely taboo and saying he couldn't control his sexual urges around me would only make him look weak to the crew, when he was nothing of the sort.

  "They all say that, too, lass. He's already gotten you pregnant. You've more than done your wifely duty for the moment. He shouldn't be forcing himself on you at night any more. I'll have a word to him, I will." I recognised the grim look on her face – I'd seen it on William's at the start of a fight.

  "No, please don't say anything," I begged. A week of sharing William's bed properly again wasn't anywhere near enough. If she said something and he stopped making love to me or even sleeping with me altogether, I wasn't sure I could bear it again.

  "So you finally decided to join us," William said brightly, throwing himself into his deck chair. "What would you prefer, lass? I have a collection of children's stories by Kipling and some dreary sounding one by a woman named Jane Austen. Pride and Prejudice or something equally pretentious."

  My head was roiling at the prospect of Sarah messing with my relationship with William. As if our life together wasn't challenging enough with...what I was. "I don't mind. Whatever you like, William." My voice came out flat.

  William noticed, as he always did. "Are you feeling all right? I can take you back to our cabin if you like, lass. You could have a bit of a lie down before dinner. Unless you'd like to skip dinner altogether? I'll keep you company, of course." He winked.

  Sarah glared at him. "I'd never have thought it of you, Will. You were a good man when you left Scotland. What happened out here to turn you bad?"

  Before either of us could respond, she rose and stalked away.

  William stared at her departing back for a moment before he shook his head and turned back to me. "I didn't think I was being so obvious, but Sarah's been married a while now, even if it is to a man who hides his wedding tackle with underpants under his kilt. She's probably converted him into a proper Scotsman now, so there's no hiding such things from her. Sorry if I embarrassed you, lass."

  "No worries." I glanced at the books. "I would like you to read to me some more. It's so nice out here in the breeze. Nothing's as pretentious as Kipling. Let's try the Austen book and see."

  William settled into his seat and cracked open the book. "It is a truth universally acknowledged," he read, "that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife." He grinned. "Well, they got that right. I certainly want you, my beautiful wife." And he read on.

  Twenty-Two

  William's passion didn't abate that night, nor the one after, so I assumed Sarah hadn't spoken to him yet and I was very thankful for it. Mine work would steal him soon enough, I knew, for I could already see the misty form of Christmas Island on the horizon. I stayed in the cabin to pack, as we'd been terribly messy with our clothes in the few days we'd been aboard the Islander. I'd found a pair of drawers under the bed and I suspected I'd find more if I managed to crawl under there. Ooh, what if they'd been lost under the bed on our outward voyage and remained here the whole week we'd been in Singapore? While the crew cleaned the room as well!

  I smothered a giggle as I dropped to my knees. Would William be jealous of any man who looked at my underwear even when I wasn't wearing it? I crawled under the bedstead.

  Several minutes later, I emerged with two pairs of my drawers, one of William's socks and a stocking that I was certain wasn't mine. I brought the haul out onto the veranda to check in the better light. Oh, wait, the stocking was mine after all. It must have fallen from my trunk at some point and I hadn't noticed.

  Raised voices drew my attention and I spotted Sarah and William standing beside the railing at the bow. From his folded arms and thunderous expression, I guessed the topic of discussion.

  I threw the undergarments into my trunk and hurried down to the foredeck. I could already hear her words as I approached.

  "...she's carrying your child, Will. You should be treating her like the fine china she drinks her tea out of, instead of banging her like a drum at Hogmanay. You can't do that to a woman who's with child. Tom or even Rob I'd believe it of, after they'd had too much whisky, but Cat and Beth would've been knocking down Mum's door the next morning, threatening to get the police involved. Mum would've shouted herself hoarse and they'd never do it again. You were always the best of them, Will. Never so much as stole a kiss from a lass back home. And look at you now...that terrified lass you call your wife won't stay with you, you know. And if you hurt her, you'll hurt the child, too. Mum would be ashamed of you, Will, and Dad...if he was still alive, he'd beat you bloody, and rightly so, too."

  "Relations between me and my wife are none of your concern, Sarah. Stay out of it."

  Sarah was as stubborn as William, I realised with a smile. "But it's not just between you and your wife, Will. I bet everyone on the ship knows what you do to her. Even if they're not in the cabin next to you, they're not deaf. How long do you think it'll be before one of them reports you to the local magistrate?"

  "For loving my wife? Sarah, there isn't a man on this ship stupid enough to do that. And those who might be...well, Hughes is the captain here."

  "Stupid? No, they're afraid of you, Will. Even Captain Hughes. When I asked him if he knew you were violent, he turned right pale, he did, and said you weren't a man to cross. He said anything you choose to do with your wife is entirely your business and none of his. What's changed about you that terrifies grown men? The devil's gotten to you out here, Will. With your hard hats it seems your head's gotten hard, too. You used to fight to protect girls back home, Will. I remember when James tried to kiss me when we were kids, you bloodied his nose properly and I was grateful for it. But you're not my brother any more. If you truly were my brother, you'd never stoop so low as to beat your own wife."

  William stood as open-mouthed as I did. Where in water had she gotten that idea?

  Sarah planted her feet firmly on the deck. "I'll stay to take care of the lass until your child is born. Then I'll take her somewhere you can't hurt her any more. And if you even think to lay a finger on her while I'm here...I'll bust your wedding tackle before I report you to the magistrate my
self." She stalked off with her head held high.

  William stared wordlessly after her. I waited until she'd rounded the corner before I stepped out of my hiding spot. I wanted to hug him and tell him that I'd never leave him, no matter what his sister said, but there were several crewmen in view so I couldn't even touch him.

  "You heard?" William asked darkly.

  I hesitated, then nodded. "The gist of it, at least." I wasn't sure what else to say.

  "Sarah..." William dropped his voice to a whisper. "Sarah said that I hurt you. That you'd told her so. Is it true?"

  I shook my head.

  "But you'd tell me if I hurt you, wouldn't you, lass? Even if it was by accident, you'd tell me to stop, right?" he persisted.

  I wet my lips. "If it was by accident, I might." His eyes widened in horror. "But if you set out to hurt me deliberately, William, permanent damage to your wedding tackle would be just the start. And I wouldn't bother with a magistrate. You'd definitely need a doctor, William."

  He laughed in relief. "There's the lass I love. If I hurt you on purpose, I'd deserve it."

  Damn straight he would.

  Twenty-Three

  Spinner dolphins surfed the bow wave as we entered Flying Fish Cove. I stood back from the railing, hoping they didn't see me, or if they did, that they didn't recognise me. If they knew about the child I carried, they'd send word to Mother immediately, who'd come to drag me away from my home. Sarah would probably believe her brother had murdered me and thrown my body in the sea, too.

  While the Islander docked, William pulled me aside. "Can you take my sister up to the house and get her settled in? I need to see to the unloading."

  I frowned at him. "Can't work wait until tomorrow?"

  "I won't be long. A few hours at most. I promise I'll be home for lunch and dinner, too." He pushed me toward the gangplank where Sarah stood with a bag in her hand.

  I sighed. Even if she'd called her brother a wifebeater, I didn't mind the woman. She'd been unfailingly kind to me. Perhaps I could persuade her to listen to reason on the walk up to Rocky Point.

  "I'll take you up the house," I offered. Up close, I noticed trepidation in her eyes – the cliffs had looked ominous the first time I'd seen them, too, though I hadn't been looking at the fresh scars of the recent landslide. At least the damaged houses in the kampung had been demolished. Any usable timber was now stacked beside the railway line, presumably awaiting transfer up to South Point. "I can show you around and introduce you to people, if you like."

  She nodded and followed me off the ship. I kept an eye on the water below the pier, scrutinising it for signs of nosy dolphins, but their squeaks told me they'd stayed in the deeper water at the entrance to the cove. Good.

  Conscious of the contrast between Singapore's busy, paved streets and the muddy track where the only vehicles were our own shod feet, I pointed out what we did have. "The tennis courts are over there on the padang, but you must watch out that the crabs don't steal your ball. The Christmas Island Club is upstairs in that building, above the mine offices. There's a billiard table and a bar, and a room they turn into a cinema when a new film arrives from Singapore." I frowned, remembering the one film I'd watched there. "Don't let Mr Ong choose the film, though. He's overly fond of monsters, I find." The outrigger canoes the Malay men used for fishing sat in a line on the beach, as if ready to head out at any moment. I watched a bosunbird soar overhead and followed its flight with my eyes. I pointed across the cove. "The District Officer's house is on the cliffs over there, but you have to walk the cliff road to get there, so usually we wait for him to come and visit us in the Club. They're usually scared, young Englishmen fresh out of their diplomatic training and they don't stay long. A year at most. The rest of the Europeans are mostly Scottish, like you and your brother. I'm the only Australian." We trudged up the steepest part of the track. The only sounds we made were the squidge of mud underfoot and our panting breath before it was drowned out by the clank of full phosphate cars heading down the incline from Drumsite. "Phosphate from the mines, headed for the drying sheds before a ship comes to pick it up. There was a Japanese ship in when we left, but it's loaded and gone now, so this will be for the next ship."

  "What's that?" Sarah pointed at the collection of Chinese grave markers on our right.

  I hesitated, wondering how she didn't know. "It's where the Chinese people on the island are buried when they die."

  "Oh." She dropped her gaze to stare at her feet. "Graveyards look different in Scotland."

  I nodded and turned onto the left-curving track. "Our house is this way, past the Jacksons'."

  "That one," Sarah said, pointing. For the first time today, she smiled. "Will sent me photos when it was built. Before that, he lived in the single men's quarters near the port. He said the snoring would shake the walls sometimes."

  "I didn't know that," I admitted.

  "He wrote me a letter every week without fail. Usually they'd arrive all bunched up together and I'd have to work out the right order to read them in. Sometimes he put in little gifts, like seashells or a feather or some pictures. Once he told me he'd seen a man make a comb out of a turtle shell and he'd send it in his next letter. He never did, though."

  "That's because he gave it to me. I had nothing and he...it was the only thing I had with me when the Trevessa sank." I pressed my lips together, not wanting to make the offer but knowing I'd have to. "I've kept it safe, if you want it."

  Her brow wrinkled. "The Trevessa...I know that name. That's the ship Will took from Liverpool. The one that sank and he was drifting at sea for weeks. You were on the ship, too? Have you and Will been married that long without him telling us? But that was years ago and you don't look old enough..." She coughed. "Well, you don't look a day over eighteen. I wish I didn't. No, wait, you can't have been married then or Will wouldn't have been living with the single men."

  "William and I ended up in different lifeboats. His took him to Mauritius, while mine took me to Fremantle, where I stayed with my aunt. Opposite sides of the same ocean and we only found one another again recently. We weren't willing to let fate separate us again." I swallowed. "Sarah, your brother isn't as bad a man as you think. William would never –"

  "How was your trip? Did you buy all the dresses in Singapore?" Anne called from her veranda. "Ooh, you should hear the frightening thing that happened here just yesterday. Just wait until I tell you. The Malay fishermen had the most terrifying encounter with a shark while they were fishing. None of them are brave enough to go out in their boats at all after that. They're all lined up on the beach, but no one will go fishing until they know the shark's gone." She made it down the steps before she noticed Sarah. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm Anne Jackson. My husband is the island manager."

  Sarah shook Anne's offered hand. "Mrs Sarah Whyte. I'm Mrs McGregor's midwife."

  Not William's sister. My heart sank.

  Anne was too excited by the implications to notice my expression. "Midwife? Do you mean..." She gestured at my midsection.

  I managed a smile. "Yes, or so Sarah tells me. I was quite ill in Singapore. At one point, we thought it was the tea making me sick."

  "So will you return to Australia to have the baby, or go to McGregor's family in Scotland?" Anne asked. "I had both mine here on the island and I tell you, taking care of a newborn in the tropics is terrible. Even with Amah, I'm not sure how I managed."

  "I think Australia sounds far better," Sarah said, her eyes as thoughtful as William's when he was planning something. "Your aunt lives in Fremantle, I'm sure you said only a moment ago."

  Give birth to William's baby in Merry's house? And desert William? No, I couldn't do that. I just smiled, though, and let the other two women take over the conversation while I waited for William.

  Twenty-Four

  I settled into my reading chair on the veranda, pleasantly full from lunch. My book lay in my lap, but it didn't occupy my full attention. The last of the parts William had ordered in Singapor
e had arrived and this afternoon his work consisted of repairing his Triumph. In the front yard, right in front of my veranda vantage point.

  First, William spread out a large sheet of canvas beside his motorcycle and laid out the new parts on it, alongside his tools. Next, he started taking the motorcycle apart, matching the damaged parts to their replacements. The warped fuel tank seemed to give him the most trouble, as the crab had not just clawed it open, but it had changed the shape of it so that it caught on things it had no business touching. In the end, when William had unfastened every screw holding it to the frame and it still didn't come free, he took to it with a pair of shears. After several seconds of the teeth-gritting squeal of metal cutting metal, he wrapped both hands around the tank and pulled. With a sucking sound, it popped free...and splattered the sludgy remains of fuel on his white shirt.

  William swiftly undid the buttons and removed his shirt, swiping at the black smudges on his well-muscled chest before throwing it on the tarp beside the ruined fuel tank.

  I closed my book and sat up straighter.

  William grinned as he stripped away the snipped fuel lines and wires, sweat already forming on his skin from the tropical heat. While he worked, his body took on a decided gleam, as the humidity stopped the sweat from evaporating. I couldn't wait until after dinner, when that gorgeous body would be mine in bed and I could taste the salt glistening on each muscle.

  I settled more comfortably in my chair, resting my head on a cushion. Watching William work without his shirt was enough to inspire fantasies far better than those in my book of fairy tales. I must have made some sound, because William winked at me and said, "Do you like what you see, lass?"