Against her wishes the memory of a very painful scene with Pearl flooded back, bringing with it shame and regret. How could she have so misjudged her? Only through jealousy, an emotion so strange to Jo-Beth that she hadn’t recognised it in time. Now Pearl refused to talk to her and their precious friendship was shattered. If she’d only seen Ethan’s interest in Pearl for what it was, admiration for a young woman’s courage and quick-wittedness, and curiosity over her adventures. But no, she, the self-confident Belle of Boston, had to suspect, to follow, to eavesdrop on perfectly innocuous conversations, seeing betrayal where none existed.
On the fatal afternoon in question she had followed Pearl when she left the saloon to stretch her legs on deck, claiming she twitched with impatient longing to rush to the wheel and drive the ship onward faster, to the eventual meeting with her brother.
Ethan was standing there, gazing up into a mass of spars and rigging where the cross trees on the raked-back masts strained to hold the great wind-filled sails. The ship seemed to fly, its curved hull skimming the wave-tops, its wings spread forty feet on either side of the mainmast to lift and glide like the mighty albatross.
‘A “soldiers” wind on the beam, Miss Pearl,’ Ethan said. ‘We’ve just logged her at eighteen knots. If the wind stays in its present quarter we’ll pick up time.’
Pearl turned her elfin face to him, asking how long he intended to sail the great clippers, whether he would spend his life on a heaving deck, and what Jo-Beth thought of the idea.
Eaten with suspicion, Jo-Beth watched her Ethan draw close to Pearl and drop his voice. She heard the word ‘love’ and felt her heart jolt. Momentarily blinded by pain, she forced herself to look again and saw Ethan smiling. His voice carried to her easily.
‘Singapore in twenty-four hours, Miss Pearl. I’ll take some of the payment for your jewel in silver coin so you can sew it into that little foul-weather jacket of yours. He tweaked her collar then moved off, obviously pleased at her startlement.
Jo-Beth joined Pearl in a few strides and grasped her arm. ‘What did Ethan say to you?’
‘He knew about my jacket.’ Pearl seemed put out.
‘Bother your jacket! What was he saying about love?’
Jo-Beth’s voice was harsh enough to cause a seaman nearby to glance up. She lowered her tone. ‘Why was Ethan talking to you about love?’
Pearl answered composedly. ‘He spoke of his love for the sea and for the great white bird clippers, and how they will soon be replaced by ugly steamships with their bellies constantly in need of stoking with coal.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘I speak the truth.’
‘He drew close to you and lowered his voice. He didn’t want to be heard.’
Pearl snorted. ‘Of course, he didn’t want his men to hear. Poetic images of his ship as a bird afloat would hardly enhance his image as Master. He has no desire to be laughed at.’
Releasing her grasp on Pearl’s arm, Jo-Beth stepped back, grey eyes hard as agate, her tone deceptively soft. ‘You like him, don’t you?’
‘Yes. He has the heart of a dove.’
‘I agree. He is a kind man – the man I love with a consuming passion. He’s mine, Pearl. Don’t try to take him from me.’
Pearl’s mouth fell open. ‘Take him? Whatever makes you –?’
‘Because you would fail. And do you know why? Because I am his kind and you’re not. His skin and mine are the same colour.’
~*~
‘Latitude?’ Ethan repeated Jo-Beth’s question, bringing her back to the present. ‘That also is dependent upon the noon sun sight, with a reference to tables. A simple enough matter with clear skies, but a problem in bad weather. Excuse me while I check a course alteration.’
With his hot gaze removed, Jo-Beth moved away restlessly, stopping to watch the sand run through the half-hour glass, then walking on, miserably conscious of Pearl up in the bows, as coolly remote as if she dwelt behind glass.
It was discouraging.
~*~
The call at Singapore Island had been a disappointment to Jo-Beth, with sultry weather and loneliness spoiling a trip in an open carriage through the picturesque tropical scenery, studded with exotic flowers and alive with birds that looked as if they’d fallen into paint pots. Pearl had stayed aboard ship, anchored in the roads. She had received Jo-Beth’s peace-offering, a tiny monkey on a chain, with cool thanks and no more.
Now they sailed down the Australian coast, and the smell of the land came wafting out, spicy and sweet with blossom scents. Jo-Beth watched her former friend hanging over the rail late into the night and prayed for Pearl to be successful in her quest. This vast land could so easily swallow people for ever.
Finally they changed course, coming in sight of the two headlands guarding Sydney Harbour just as the weather blew up. Since mid-day clouds had been building ahead of the north-easter yet the wind stayed merely fresh, driving the ship in the right direction. But as the sun descended the clouds grew heavy-bellied, reflecting an odd greenish light, eerily beautiful yet foreboding. Jo-Beth overheard Ethan’s discussion with the mate. They were close to haven. The South Head lighthouse shone reassuringly, while enough daylight remained for a pilot to put out. Should they run for harbour or ride out the coming storm at sea?
Even while they debated it was too late. With snake-like speed lightning forked down into the sea. The stiff breeze turned to a gale as the heavy cloud band whirled in on itself to form a maelstrom of conflicting air currents, enmeshing the sails, tearing at the rigging and threatening to drive the ship under. Thunderclaps cracked the sky and rain sheeted down. The vessel plunged and bucked under the lash of wind and sea. Captain Petherbridge grimly ordered all passengers to their quarters with lamps extinguished, while sailors scurried aloft to reef in canvas. Others battened the hatches, securing all loose items as they drove through the wild waves, striving to put distance between themselves and the cliffs of a dangerously close lee shore.
They were too close. Jo-Beth peered uselessly through her streaming window, then at Pearl, acknowledging her fear. A wave hit the ship broad-side on and for two terrifying minutes it heeled right over, throwing the women into each other’s arms.
‘What’s happening?’ cried Pearl.
‘I think Ethan’s trying to turn the ship but the wind is against him. Those poor sailors up there in the rigging.’ Jo-Beth shuddered.
The ship returned, then fell away sharply to the other side. Books and nick-knacks flew from railed shelves, raining down on the two women, asprawl on the floor. Jo-Beth lay with her ears covered against the appalling clamour as the tormented ship creaked and plunged through the heavy seas. Something smashed through the window, letting in a solid sheet of water. The floor was awash, carrying the fallen articles from side to side of the cabin as the ship tossed.
Pearl cried out when her head hit a metal basin, and Jo-Beth grabbed and pulled her, crawling, over to the bunk.
‘Hold onto the leg, so we’re not thrown around.’
Pearl obeyed her, staring wide-eyed at the surrounding chaos. Lightning illumined the false night, giving bright white glimpses of a world gone mad. The cabin door had come unlatched and began to smash itself to pieces against the wall, while more water poured through the doorway, floating the women’s skirts around them.
Jo-Beth fought her fear silently, sustained by the thought that Ethan would save them. He was the line’s most skilled captain. And soon it seemed she might be right. The reckless rolling and plunging seemed to ease off as the ship slowly changed direction in response to skilled seamanship and the crew’s efforts.
‘We’re saved. We’re moving out to sea.’ Jo-Beth grabbed Pearl and hugged her. ‘He’s done it. He’s turned the ship around.’ She wanted to shout, to run to Ethan and praise him. But even while she rejoiced there was a grinding, tearing howl then a massive crack overhead, followed by a crash as if a hundred trees had landed on the deck. The ship heeled over dangerously. She h
eard voices screaming and thought some poor soul had been crushed by whatever had fallen. Her skin prickled in horror as the screams faded and the ship began to wallow heavily, out of control.
Pearl thrust herself away from the bunk and dived for the corner where she kept her old clothes. Braced between the walls, she began to struggle out of her wet skirts.
‘What are you doing?’ Jo-Beth shrieked above the noise of men running and shouting, and the regular pounding of the sea’s assault.
‘We’re going to end up in the ocean. Our skirts will drag us down.’ Pearl, now in her baggy trousers, slid across the wet floor to wrench at Jo-Beth’s petticoats. ‘Take them off. There might not be much time.’
Jo-Beth plucked at the ties half-heartedly, her fingers stiff and cold. It couldn’t be true. Ethan had so nearly saved them. They’d been heading away from the shore, safely out to sea. What had gone wrong?
As if in answer a bulky shape appeared in the doorway, holding himself steady against the torn timbers.
‘Jo-Beth. Miss Pearl. Listen carefully. The main mast’s gone along with the rudder so the ship’s no longer under control. You must be ready to go to the boat in two minutes.’
‘Ethan,’ cried Jo-Beth, but he’d gone, his duty first to his vessel, as she knew. She tore at the last of her wet skirts until free of all but the outer layer of silk, which she refused to abandon.
A flash of lightning revealed Pearl’s white face close to hers, calm as usual, but the eyes big with apprehension. Jo-Beth let go the bunk with one hand to touch her friend’s cheek.
‘Forgive me, Pearl. We might never see another day, and I don’t want to face my Maker without healing our breach. Please, dear Pearl, you know I never meant it. I can’t believe I said it.’
‘I know.’ Pearl covered the hand against her cheek, pressing it tightly. ‘I forgive you.’
Another wave flung itself through the open doorway and Pearl lost her grip and went sliding towards the opening. Jo-Beth plunged after her, grasping her jacket as she was dragged by the wash out onto the deck into a tangle of gear and fallen rigging. They ended hard up against a hatchway where they clung with every fingernail until the vessel recovered from her roll. She did so but sluggishly. Jo-Beth felt the difference, and realised they were being slowly dragged over and down by the weight of fallen timber and canvas. On one of those rolls, perhaps the very next one, the ship would not return but go right over to dip her decks into the sea.
It was lighter outside, despite the storm. Now she could see the waves, looming as much as thirty feet high to smash down at the ship like live predators. Wind-whipped wave tops changed to flying spray, while the rain gave no respite, drumming painfully on exposed skin, pouring into eyes, nose, mouth, choking the breath in the lungs. Overhead, torn canvas thrashed and wrapped itself in shreds around the remaining masts, tearing at the men who clung there frantically. Others rolled about the deck like rag dolls, following the ship’s motion, their limbs limp and broken.
Several boats had been stove in but Jo-Beth could see a group struggling to launch another. Even as she watched, two crewmen leapt aboard, ropes were played out and the boat sank out of sight, with two more caped figures huddled in its stern. At the rail above Ethan Petherbridge gesticulated, his voice lost in the roar of wind and water.
That’s our boat, thought Jo-Beth, nudging Pearl, who sagged against her. She put her ear down near the other girl’s lips. ‘Pearl, what’s happened? Pearl?’
‘I hit the hatch cover. I think I’ve broken some ribs. Go to the boat, my friend. I must stay here.’
Jo-Beth shook her head violently. ‘I will not leave you. Anyway, the boat’s gone.’
Ethan had disappeared. Had he searched for them before letting the boat leave? Had he spared them another thought amongst so many responsibilities? She shook her head again to clear it. There was a roaring in her ears. Was she going deaf? Her hair had come loose, streaming in wind and spray to knot around her throat. She had to keep her head turned aside to breathe, and her arms ached from gripping the hatch cover and Pearl. She didn’t know what to do. Had Ethan decided to abandon ship? Were there any more boats? Were the figures in the first boat her parents?
The deck tilted over slowly, inevitably, taking them with it. Men screamed. A wave hit Jo-Beth in the back and she could feel her fingers unlock their hold on the hatch as she began to slide. The roaring in her ears had become the boom of breakers hurling themselves ashore. They were headed for the rocks.
And then Ethan was there, his arms about her and Pearl, his massive bulk sheltering them from the Niagara of water cascading down. He put his mouth close to Jo-Beth’s ear and shouted, ‘She’ll go over and break up, my darling, but there’s still a chance for you. I’m going to lash you to a spar. It will keep your head above water.’
Jo-Beth clutched at him, shouting back, ‘What about you? You can’t stay with the ship if she’s going down.’
He didn’t answer, but set about tying her to her spar. Pearl was conscious but quiet. She gave a little scream as Ethan passed a rope under her arms, tightening it across her bruised chest. Her jacket bellied out and a tiny head with questioning terrified eyes gazed up at Jo-Beth.
‘It’s Peanut,’ she exclaimed. ‘I forgot her, but you didn’t. You must love her after all, Pearl.’
The monkey darted back into her pocket as Ethan swung the two girls up onto the deck rail just above the water.
It must have taken all his strength, thought Jo-Beth, peering anxiously into his face, now level with hers. A flash of lightning revealed too much – the almost unbearable strain of a man about to lose all he held dear in life. Beneath the dripping moustache his lips were twisted, and the livid scar had never been so obvious.
‘Ethan, my parents...’
‘Safely away. We couldn’t hold the boat for you any longer or she’d have broached in this sea, but this will keep you afloat.’ He patted the spar, then took Jo-Beth roughly into his arms. His kiss was frantic with pain and longing. ‘My beloved girl, don’t forget me.’
She heard him but couldn’t take in his words. Battered senses were telling her the scene was real, but she couldn’t believe in it, not even with the physical misery of salt-stung cuts, of cold, saturated clothing to prove this was no nightmare. It wasn’t the end. It couldn’t be. She opened her mouth to reassure Ethan and he lifted her and flung her into the sea.
~*~
Pearl was drowning. Something was dragging her swiftly down through the choking darkness, the rope about her chest unbearably tight. It was caught, tangled up with a weighty object, and plunging Pearl with it down to the sea floor. So far beneath the turmoil, in the depths the sea moved with a slower rhythm, peaceful, narcotic...
She choked, tasted the sea rushing into her mouth and closed it tightly. Her hand went automatically to the hidden pocket and a second later her blade was sawing at the constricting rope. Her heart hammered mightily in her chest and pain blossomed there, growing rapidly, forcing her to breathe. She had to breathe. The pain...
The rope strands parted and she kicked free, clawing upward, straining every muscle with all her strength. Then her head burst through the surface and she coughed and gagged, spitting out saltwater, drawing in a blessed lungful of air before the next wave crashed over her, sending her under again to be tossed like a bundle of rags but thrusting upward again, arms flapping, trying to keep her afloat, her salt-rimmed eyes striving to catch the phosphorescent crest of the next wave, to time her breath to the last second before being hit again.
Cold. So cold. Numbness sapped the last little bit of strength she needed just to stay on the surface. Then something bumped her head and she flung out an arm, grasped a floating spar. It dipped under her slight weight and she saw that it already supported Jo-Beth, face down in the sea. Pearl grasped a handful of hair and dragged her friend’s head back, resting it on the piece of timber, realising that the sea had calmed as they drifted into the lee of the doomed ship. Tucking away her kni
fe she carefully balanced her weight on the spar and peered into Jo-Beth’s face. Was she alive? Had she hit her head going over-board? If so, Pearl could do nothing about it. The important thing was to get clear of the ship, now a great dark whale-shape wallowing on her side with masts and rigging dragging her lower by the minute, while the waves continued to buffet her to flinders.
Pearl began to kick. She also talked to herself.
‘I don’t want to expose us to those waves again, but I’ll soon lose my grip with the cold... then there’ll be no-one to hold Jo-Beth’s head up... and I want to get to the shore... I have to find Li Po... I will not drown just a few yards from the land I’ve come so far to find.’
Filled with a mixture of dread and determination, the pain in her ribs numbed, she kicked off towards the shore, towards the roaring breakers that could easily mean death yet represented their one chance of life.
Beyond the shelter of the ship the waves hit her once more, and again she tried to time her breathing to their rhythm. She could see cliffs outlined against the boiling clouds and spume flung up from the rocks below. Yet a little further away to the north there was a beach. It appeared intermittently between crests and troughs, a curve of shelving sand, a possible landing place if she could guide the spar past the rocks, if the current ran in the right direction, if the wind didn’t push them onto the cliffs first.
Miraculously the storm had ceased. The wind lost its force while thunder and lightning rolled on inland, leaving a wrack of cloud and a fitful moon to light the damage left behind. But Pearl had turned her back on the wreck. Her inner voice fell into rhythm with her kicking legs. Concentrate. Push. Kick. Grip the spar with unfeeling fingers. Check Jo-Beth’s face was out of the water. Peer over the next wave. Concentrate. Push. Kick.
A HAZARD OF HEARTS Page 10