came on board? Or did she get it and give it to me? Or did I get it and give it to her?’
‘Who can tell?’ I said, stuck for something to say. ‘But you’ve been looked after well.’
‘Evison should have kept us apart.’ She was getting angrier. ‘It was wrong to keep us both in our cabin. Maybe I would have just had it, and Lizzie would still be alive. Maybe she would have had it and died anyway, but I would have been spared.’
The effort to talk exhausted her. She stayed silent for a while then tears filled her eyes. She had obviously been brooding in her lonely cabin. Much as I liked theCaptain, I could see she had a point.
‘Pass me a mirror, Sam, there’s one in the drawer there.’
‘Leave it ’til later, Bel,’ I said. ‘You look fine – you’re thin and pale, as you would be, and you have some marks on your face, but they’ll fade in no time.’
‘Quick, Sam, quick, I’m begging you.’ She was getting upset again. ‘Mrs Evison won’t let me look. I want you to help me.’
I fetched a small hand mirror and held it in front of her face.
She began to sob.
‘No man will ever want me now.’
‘That’s not true,’ I said.
She would not be consoled. ‘And what am I going to do with Miss Lizzie gone? Who’s going to take me as their maid with these hideous scars … I’ll have to work for some bad-tempered harridan who’ll want a plain maid to make herself look better.’
I came to see her again the next day, but her mood was much the same. She found fault with everything I said and sent me away after a couple of minutes. The next day, I thought she might want to pass the time writing to her parents, so I brought pen, ink and paper. She threw them to the floor, staining the deck and her sheets with the black ink. ‘What am I going to say?’ she wailed. ‘This is what happened because you wouldn’t have metreated! Go away, Sam Witchall, and don’t come bothering me with stupid ideas.’
I left it for a week. I knew people behaved badly when they were tormented by grief and anger. But when I returned she wouldn’t see me.
On 15th November, 1803, we sailed into London. It loomed in the distance – the great curving dome of St Paul’s Cathedral, all those spires, and a huge mass of buildings and smoke – like a great shadow cast over the earth. This was a journey I had been longing to make since I first went to sea. I had heard so much about the city from my fellow sailors and now I was about to see it for myself.
By the time we reached the grand palaces and buildings of Greenwich, the river bank was crowded with houses. Richard had kept to himself in the days following the funeral, but arriving here seemed to perk him up. He pointed up at the splendid observatory atop the hill overlooking the river. On its roof was a large red ball mounted on a long pole. ‘That gets hoisted up and dropped every day at twelve o’clock sharp,’ he told me. ‘All the ships in London set their chronometers by it.’
We sailed into the Pool of London, past the turn in the river at Limehouse Reach. The city looked like some vast human hive. Up in the topsails I could see how enormous it was and I was eager to walk those streets.On the east side of the river we passed a gigantic building that receded almost as far as the eye could see. ‘That’ll be the warehouses for the new West India Docks,’ said Garrick. ‘They were buildin’ that when I sailed out of here. They say it’s the biggest buildin’ in the world.’
We moored along a crowded quayside close to London Bridge. The Captain, it was whispered with a knowing smirk, knew exactly which dockside officials would be open to a bribe. They would turn a blind eye to his lack of a trading licence for his East India goods.
Evison paid us off. ‘You can sail with me any time, Witchall. You too, Buckley. You’ve been a credit to the ship.’ He wrote down his London address and told us to come and visit him if we were looking for
‘Who can tell?’ I said, stuck for something to say. ‘But you’ve been looked after well.’
‘Evison should have kept us apart.’ She was getting angrier. ‘It was wrong to keep us both in our cabin. Maybe I would have just had it, and Lizzie would still be alive. Maybe she would have had it and died anyway, but I would have been spared.’
The effort to talk exhausted her. She stayed silent for a while then tears filled her eyes. She had obviously been brooding in her lonely cabin. Much as I liked theCaptain, I could see she had a point.
‘Pass me a mirror, Sam, there’s one in the drawer there.’
‘Leave it ’til later, Bel,’ I said. ‘You look fine – you’re thin and pale, as you would be, and you have some marks on your face, but they’ll fade in no time.’
‘Quick, Sam, quick, I’m begging you.’ She was getting upset again. ‘Mrs Evison won’t let me look. I want you to help me.’
I fetched a small hand mirror and held it in front of her face.
She began to sob.
‘No man will ever want me now.’
‘That’s not true,’ I said.
She would not be consoled. ‘And what am I going to do with Miss Lizzie gone? Who’s going to take me as their maid with these hideous scars … I’ll have to work for some bad-tempered harridan who’ll want a plain maid to make herself look better.’
I came to see her again the next day, but her mood was much the same. She found fault with everything I said and sent me away after a couple of minutes. The next day, I thought she might want to pass the time writing to her parents, so I brought pen, ink and paper. She threw them to the floor, staining the deck and her sheets with the black ink. ‘What am I going to say?’ she wailed. ‘This is what happened because you wouldn’t have metreated! Go away, Sam Witchall, and don’t come bothering me with stupid ideas.’
I left it for a week. I knew people behaved badly when they were tormented by grief and anger. But when I returned she wouldn’t see me.
On 15th November, 1803, we sailed into London. It loomed in the distance – the great curving dome of St Paul’s Cathedral, all those spires, and a huge mass of buildings and smoke – like a great shadow cast over the earth. This was a journey I had been longing to make since I first went to sea. I had heard so much about the city from my fellow sailors and now I was about to see it for myself.
By the time we reached the grand palaces and buildings of Greenwich, the river bank was crowded with houses. Richard had kept to himself in the days following the funeral, but arriving here seemed to perk him up. He pointed up at the splendid observatory atop the hill overlooking the river. On its roof was a large red ball mounted on a long pole. ‘That gets hoisted up and dropped every day at twelve o’clock sharp,’ he told me. ‘All the ships in London set their chronometers by it.’
We sailed into the Pool of London, past the turn in the river at Limehouse Reach. The city looked like some vast human hive. Up in the topsails I could see how enormous it was and I was eager to walk those streets.On the east side of the river we passed a gigantic building that receded almost as far as the eye could see. ‘That’ll be the warehouses for the new West India Docks,’ said Garrick. ‘They were buildin’ that when I sailed out of here. They say it’s the biggest buildin’ in the world.’
We moored along a crowded quayside close to London Bridge. The Captain, it was whispered with a knowing smirk, knew exactly which dockside officials would be open to a bribe. They would turn a blind eye to his lack of a trading licence for his East India goods.
Evison paid us off. ‘You can sail with me any time, Witchall. You too, Buckley. You’ve been a credit to the ship.’ He wrote down his London address and told us to come and visit him if we were looking for
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