A HAZARD OF HEARTS (14 page)

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 heard 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 knife 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.