share, even if she so desired. And with him back in harness she would do her best to destroy his dream.
Then there was Gillian Bligh. Flaunting herself in front of that idiot Tarrou. He grimaced. That was unfair, and he knew it. She had probably been wanting to escape from that ghastly party, and had certainly found him little different from all the others.
He found that he was back at the pier, and he stopped to listen to the sea.
If only I could have met her some other way. He stopped that train of thought immediately. It would have made no difference, I have come to these islands for one purpose, and it is plain bloody stupid to start complicating things.
The moon gleamed serenely on the water, and the breeze sighed contentedly amongst the palms. Their combined music flung the lie back in his face.
4
FRASER lifted his old telescope and trained it across the lee rail towards the sloping headland. The schooner dipped heavily across a steep roller, and he staggered against the rail with his thigh. The motion made the anvil start up again in his head, and he had to grit his teeth to avoid cursing aloud. That damned Hogan.
When the schooner had cast off Hogan had been standing on the pier amongst his boys, his face haggard and unshaven, and openly unwilling for the ship to leave. Bloody old fool, he thought, as he studied the harsh outline of the cliffs through the glass. Perhaps it was as well that they were going to get on with the job. It was a pity it wasn’t a wreck full of gold or pearls, but working would get the hangover out of his system. He grinned, and winced as a fire burned behind his eyes. He always said that, after a binge, but it made no difference.
Tarrou wandered silently across the deck, to stare with listless eyes at the shore.
`Well, nearly at the reef, Michel. I hope the weather holds.’
`Nothing wrong with the weather, is there?’ His voice was flat.
`Glass droppin’ a bit. But I daresay we’ll live.’ He paused, as a distorted memory formed in his brain. `What in hell’s name did you get up to last night? Didn’t see you after you buggered off with the sheila.’
‘We talked.’
Fraser grinned. ‘Well, I didn’t imagine you were in bed with her!’
Tarrou’s eyes flickered. `Please, Vic.’ His voice was pleading. `Don’t you talk like that. She is a wonderful girl. She is something I have often thought about.’
Fraser snapped the glass shut and turned on him with exasperation. ‘Don’t talk so bloody wet, man! Sure she’s a nice girl. I like her, too. But keep a sense of proportion, for Christ’s sake!’
Tarrou eyed him miserably. `How is that?’
`Well, Michel, it’s hard to explain.’ He waved the glass irritably. `You know what I mean, so don’t look so dumb. She’s a Sheila, right? But in the States she’s somebody, she matters! Surely you don’t think that she gives a damn what becomes of us? She don’t give a cuss for the Major, so you can’t imagine she bothers about a chap like you?’
Tarrou merely smiled. Inwardly he was unhappy. It was a pity that Fraser was jealous of him, he thought, but Fraser’s opinion of things had ceased to be important. ‘I think you are mistaken, Vic.’
Fraser grunted. `You’re as silly as a two-bob watch, Michel. Don’t go an’ make yourself miserable over a woman, for Christ’s sake!’
Watute’s shrill voice floated down from the foremast head. `Deck! Reef him show!’
Fraser shouldered Tarrou to one side. `I’ll talk to you later!’ He peered through the glass and saw the thin feathers of spray jumping along the bottom of the headland. He knew that the Phalarope Reef ran from that point and crossed the whole bay in an unbroken line. Unbroken, but for two small gaps, which his father had thought fit to show him.
‘Go an’ start up the old diesel,’ he said curtly. `I’ll sail her in, but if the breeze drops we’ll need you.’
Tarrou nodded, his eyes shining. You all need me, he thought.
The girl came on deck, a camera in her hands. `Is that it?’ She pointed at the breakers.
`Yep. That’s Phalarope Reef. Many a poor trader has had his bilges trimmed by that!’
She levelled the camera. `Fancy name?’
‘H.M.S. Phalarope was wrecked about four miles from here. She was a frigate. Went down with all hands.’
The girl shaded her eyes. Without the sun-glasses they looked’ like cool grey pearls, he thought.
She smiled. `How long ago was that?’
`Coupl’a hundred years ago now.’ He grinned down at her. `Don’t worry. I know where it is, you’ll be quite safe.’ He looked quickly around the deck. `Enjoy the party last night?’
She wrinkled her nose, and he noticed that there were freckles on her cheeks. `Rough!’
`Yeah. Rough is the word for old Hogan. But he’s all right.’
`But what a way to live. He looks like a man without hope.’
Fraser shrugged. `Maybe. But what sort of a life is there in the world where you come from? Do they all have hope?’
She smiled, her teeth were white and even. `I asked for that.’
‘By the way, I think you’re lookin’ much better since you came aboard.’ He grinned awkwardly. `You know, more relaxed. I think this old tub is doin’ you good.’
Gillian tossed the hair from her eyes and looked away. Blair was watching the compass over the helmsman’s shoulder, his face creased in a frown. `Here comes the boss,’ she said. `He looks worried.’
`It’s his money. But I don’t think it’s that.’
`Well, I’m waiting for the news? Give!’ She eyed him with mock anger.
Fraser watched the set of the sails- and smiled crookedly. `He’s got girl-trouble!’
Gillian’s smile faded. `But he’s married and everything.’ Her mind raced over her notes. They were, as usual, thorough and complete. There was no mention of that side to Blair’s nature. `How do you know?’ The disbelief sounded in her challenge.
Fraser cupped his hands and bellowed towards the fo’c’sle. `Stand by the flying jib there, you awkward lot of monkeys!’
The seamen grinned back whitely as they scampered forward. `Because I know her, that’s why!’ He winked at her triumphantly.
Her laugh echoed along the deck, so that by his engine Tarrou smiled with pleasure. `Now I know you’re blowing your top! Well, go on, finish it. Where is she? What’s her name?’
‘He pulled his cap over his eyes and nodded to the helmsman, before taking over the wheel. Blair glanced curiously at them as Fraser said calmly: `She’s standing in your shoes. I think you know her name!’
She felt the colour mount to her face, and she groped vaguely for her sun-glasses. She stared at Blair, but he had returned his gaze to the chart and compass.
Fraser eyed her momentarily before giving his full attention to the reef. ‘S’fact. Ask him!’ He grinned, knowing that Blair’s ignorance of the conversation made such an idea impossible.
She clenched her fists and stared from one to the other. Then she stamped her foot and walked quickly towards the bows.
Blair picked up the telescope. `What’s the matter with her?’
Fraser shrugged, and felt the press of the wheel against the rudder. `She’s in love, I shouldn’t wonder.’
Blair frowned. `Well, that’s her affair,’ he answered stiffly. `What are you doing now?’ He forced the girl from his mind but he found himself watching her bare legs silhouetted against the sky as she stood up by the seamen.
`See that pinnacle of rock towards the beach? Well, that’s my aiming mark. I steer straight for that an’ then put her hard over. We’ll have some sail off her before that, but my lads know what to do.’
Above the strumming of the canvas and the swish of water along the lee rail Blair could now hear the sullen thunder of limitless surf crashing against the hidden reef. Every so often a great force, more formidable than the others, would lift itself from the sea, and rise broken and frustrated by the barriers of rock and coral, before falling back into the torment
ed surf.
The schooner heeled slightly, and Blair had to grasp the rail to prevent his feet from sliding from under him.
The sharp stem lifted and bore down on the fast eddies which criss-crossed the approaches to the reef. Beyond the menace of the implacable wall beneath the surface, the water of the bay shimmered blue and inviting. He could well imagine the storm-tossed frigate, and the poor little Sigh, seeing the calm bay as a reprieve from their miseries.
The breeze freshened, and the canvas thundered overhead, as if in answer to the reef’s challenge. Blair saw Fraser’s wrists twist against the kick of the wheel, and saw his eyes flicker briefly from the sails to the swinging bowsprit, as it curtsied across the uneven water, pointing the way for him to steer. He could almost feel the undercurrent adding its power to the terrible suction which wrenched the keel from one side to the other, and made the taut rigging moan in protest. They were all committed now … and he tore his eyes from Fraser’s expressionless gaze to watch the dancing spray ahead.
Old Buka loosened a belaying pin in the stout bulwark and automatically ran his fingers through the coiled lines, making sure that no kink or snare would add to the hazards when it came time to alter course. Blair could hear him muttering in that strange mixture of pidgin and island dialect which was quite incomprehensible to him.
Gillian had planted her back against the foremast, and seemed oblivious to the spray whipping at her face and the snap and twang of ropes and braces on either side of her. She held the camera like a gun, and moved it slowly along the jutting headland and stayed for a while on the chattering seamen in the bows.
Blair clawed his way to the rail and leaned as far out as he dared. The sea no longer looked inviting and serene, but gave him the immediate impression of timeless cruelty and immeasurable depth. The surface seemed to churn in all directions at once, and where it seethed in contest with the schooner’s bow-wave it appeared to be performing a savage
dance, the short; steep waves reaching up to confuse the ship and drive it from its course.
Then, without warning, he saw the reef. Where there had been only empty, dark water and tormented foam he found his eyes mesmerized by a great shoulder of pale green, which, as he stared with fascinated eyes, seemed to writhe and change shape as the ship bore down on it. His mouth had gone quite dry, and he wanted to call out to Fraser and tell him of the reef’s nearness.
As the keel surged between the narrow gap in the coral it heeled violently on to its side, and Blair was looking straight down on to the glittering, distorted mass which, as far as he could tell, was only a few feet beneath the surface. In that small instant of time he was conscious of its vastness and jagged strength, and also of its depth of colour and cruel beauty, as the filtered sunlight played amongst its embrasures, giving green, pink and yellow reflections, and showing the nervous, darting shapes of a million fish, which sought shelter against its walls.
He was vaguely conscious of Fraser’s short, harsh shouts, and the screaming of ropes through the sheaves, as the twin thirty-foot booms swung across the slanting deck and the rudder bit against the racing water. Protesting with every block and every timber, the old schooner bucked round in a tight semi-circle, and for a moment Blair thought the crazily flapping canvas would dismast her, or drive her back into the reef. He swallowed hard, and looked along the deck at the girl. Their eyes met, and he grinned at her, the excitement within him transforming his taut face so that she too smiled and, with exaggerated relief, blew the hair out of her eyes.
The vessel had already steadied on to even keel, and as the boys shortened sail he felt the diesel begin to pound beneath his feet, and with calm dignity she cruised smoothly into the bay. With impotent fury the breakers still pounded against the reef, but within its protecting walls the bay was calm and at peace, its blue unruffled surface speared and interlaced with panels of lighter green.
Fraser laughed shortly. `We’re in! Suit you, Major?’
Blair nodded slowly, conscious of the tension in the man’s tone. It had been a strain for him too then, he pondered. In some way that gave him comfort. `Well done. It’s been worth it all, just to see this.’ He waved towards the distant shore, its white beach almost smoky under the heat haze, and the dark ranks of palms and manchineels seemingly unbroken from one end of the bay to the other, the fronds streaming and rippling in the south-east trades. He could see the old volcano quite clearly now, a purple triangle against the bare sky, like the shark’s fin had looked as it cut through the peaceful water.
The schooner moved closer to the shore until, with a clatter, the anchor plummeted down, dragging the oiled cable after it, as if eager to delay their journey. With the engine stilled and the way off the ship, the anchor took command, and the schooner swung lazily in the current, her sides throwing up another reflection to add to the pattern.
Fraser pointed with his pipe stem. `Reckon we’ll go over to the mission an’ see old Ivor Spencer. That suit you?’ He did not sound very enthusiastic.
Blair watched the boys swinging out the heavy dinghy, and shaded his eyes to study the cluster of small buildings on the headland. `It looks a bit lonely.’
`Sure. And beyond all that bush,’ he indicated the inviting beach, `between us an’ that volcano, there are the meanest bunch of jokers left on this earth. I reckon they’re the last of the really primitive people, untouched by our civilization,’ he said soberly.
The dinghy splashed alongside, and as if in response to some signal two dorsal fins planed to the surface, to cruise with graceful menace along the sides of an invisible rectangle.
Fraser grunted. `Two big fellas already. Couple of makos, I think.’
Blair found that he was able to watch them without horror. Fraser lived amongst these dangers every day of his life, and in the tropics everything seemed to be larger and starker than in the world outside. The reef, climate and the savage tribes who hid in the lush green of the bush, all were exaggerated, and outlined with the brush of a surrealist painter. It was somehow right that these fish, too, should be as they were. They belonged here. He did not. He watched the gleaming blue shapes move in closer to the dinghy. Their colour made them hard to distinguish, and he wondered how Fraser could tell one from the other.
Fraser seemed to read his thoughts. `Notice the extra dorsal fin? It’s very small, not like that tiger you saw. The colour, too, is a help.’
,Are they dangerous?’ Blair remembered the unbelievably savage spectacle of the sharks tearing each other into bloody shreds.
`Yep. Though they’ll keep clear of anything they don’t trust. Trouble with sharks is their damned curiosity. They keep movin’ round a diver in the water, till one of ‘em moves in a bit too close and noses him over. Their skin is like flamin’ glass-paper, and when they give you a nudge you know all about it!’ He shrugged. `If they nudge you enough to draw blood … that’s it. You’ve had it!’
Fraser pointed to the scarred old seaman called Kari. His bent back was criss-crossed with a pale mesh of ugly slashes, which bunched the dark skin together like a crudely mended garment.
`Sharks?’ Blair looked at the native with new interest.
He was lucky. He an’ two others were divin’ off Malekula some years back. He was grabbed by a tiger, but managed to wriggle clear. Stuck his thumbs in the brute’s eyes, believe it or not. The other two bastards were torn to bits.’ He smiled grimly. `It ruined him for divin’. Still, he’s a good hand in many ways.’
Blair lit a cigarette, and watched the drifting fins. He tried to shut out the image of his parents and his sister as the Sigli had careered on to the reef. If only it was over quickly for them.
The girl was standing by the rail above the bobbing dinghy. `Who’s for the shore?’ She was squinting against the sun and her tanned face looked damp under its probing glare.
Fraser spoke softly. `Do you want her to come too?’
Blair walked briskly to the rail. `I think so. Her mind is probably better trained than mine f
or gleaning information. She might pick up something that I could easily miss.’ He was surprised by his own answer, but when he saw Tarrou emerging from the engine hatch he smiled bitterly. It would keep him away from her for a bit.
He saw Fraser take a small key from around his neck and pass it to the half-caste, and heard him say: `Keep an eye on the Pearl. No visitors aboard while we’re away, see?’
He rejoined Blair without waiting for an answer, and Blair sensed that Tarrou was displeased both with his orders and with his captain.
`What was the key for?’
Fraser turned his body so that the girl should not see and gently pulled open his trouser pocket. Blair could see the heavy pistol resting snugly against his leg. `As they say in the Pommie navy, that was the key of the Pearl’s main armament. I always take this ashore, just in case.’
`Hadn’t I better take it?’ Blair’s eyes were cold.
Not bloody likely.’ Fraser grinned calmly. `This is a peaceful visit, not a fiamin’ invasion!’
Blair shrugged, and stepped down into the boat. Fraser had the easy knack of upsetting him, but at last he had the feeling that he was getting the man’s measure. We shall see, he thought, as he settled himself on the warm thwart of the boat. I think that they all want to show me that out here f am the one useless person aboard.
The Hostile Shore Page 6