Sea Fury (1971) by James Pattinson

irritated her. She preferred his complaints to that silent scrutiny; it got on her nerves.
    At last he said, “You couldn’t have been on deck all that time. I went up and looked for you.”
    “You didn’t look closely enough.”
    “This isn’t the Queen Elizabeth. There’s not all that deck area. If you’d been there I’d have found you.”
    She affected boredom. “I don’t know where this interrogation is supposed to be leading. Again, if you’re interested, I wasn’t on deck all the time.”
    “Where were you?”
    “With the Mensteins.”
    She realised at once that she had made a blunder. Morton would quite possibly check up. Perhaps she had better speak to the Mensteins first thing in the morning. But could she really ask them to provide an alibi? It would be too degrading. And suppose they refused to play? She had scarcely spoken to them beyond the ordinary courtesies, but she had gained the impression that they were the kind of people who would probably have a respect for the truth. No, better not to say anything to them. If Morton discovered that she had lied, so be it. She could always laugh it off.
    But could she? It was becoming rather less easy to turn away Morton’s questions with a laugh. Ridiculous as it might seem, he appeared to be becoming more possessive as he grew older. Surely he could not still be in love with her after all these years. Or was it not so much love as a sense of property? No doubt he considered that she belonged to him and perhaps he resented the idea that any other man should lay a hand on something that was legally his. Perhaps even Morton could be as old-fashioned as that.
    She glanced at him. He was half-sitting, half-lying on his bunk and frowning. He seemed to be in a really black mood; perhaps he had lost money to the Australian at cards. So what if he found out about her and Johansen? He already suspected; that was obvious. But suppose suspicion hardened into certainty ? What would he do then? She simply did not know. Morton might not be a courageous man but he could be very vindictive; that she knew. Well, she would just have to be careful ; make sure no one saw her entering or leaving the mate’s cabin. Then Morton might suspect all he liked, but he wouldhave no proof and she could meet any accusation with a denial.
    Nevertheless, it was a pity she had brought in the Men-steins.
    “There’s something I want you to remember,” Lycett said.
    “And what would that be?”
    “That you’re still my wife.”
    “God,” she said, “do you think I’m ever likely to forget it?”
     
    “What’s in the box, Nick?” Grade asked.
    Holt held the box in his two hands. He had taken it out of the wardrobe to get at a book on the same shelf. The box measured about ten inches by six and was perhaps five inches deep. It was made of plywood, roughly nailed together, and there were some Chinese characters painted on it.
    “Just tea. China tea.”
    “You like China tea?”
    “I don’t,” Holt said. “Mr. Saunders asked me to take it to his partner in Perth. Seems he’s crazy about the stuff.”
    Saunders was the Australian wool merchant who had paid Holt’s passage from Hong Kong and had offered him a job. The partner’s name was Roylance. Saunders had not given Holt Roylance’s address but he had said that he would send the man a cable and tell him to meet Holt off the ship in Fremantle. Holt thought this was very kind of Mr. Saunders, and said so.
    “Think nothing of it,” Saunders said. “I think I’m getting a good man. I’m sure of it.”
    “But it’s not really necessary for Mr. Roylance to come to Fremantle. I can find my own way to Perth.”
    “You ever been to Perth?”
    Holt admitted that he had not.
    “Then let Fred Roylance be your guide.”
    “Perhaps he won’t want to be put to all that bother.”
    “For him a trip to Fremantle is no bother at all. I’ll tell him about the tea and he’ll come like a bat out of hell. Give old Fred the