Close to the Wind (17 page)

Malik sat down on the deck.

Steffan took hold of the brush, put a foot up on the stool and began to clean the mud off his own shoes. ‘No one uses a shoeshine when the vendor’s got dirty feet.’ He looked at Malik’s wellingtons. ‘Are they all you’ve got?’ Malik nodded. ‘Didn’t you get something better at your orphanage?’

‘I wasn’t at an orphanage. I’m not an orphan. My mama is back in the town with my grandad.’

Steffan smiled. ‘Sure. I understand.’

Malik felt uneasy. He put his hand out for the brush. ‘I’ll do your shoes.’ He put polish on the tip of the brush and dabbed it on the scuffed shoe.

Steffan said, ‘I went through the same thing.’

‘Went through what?’

‘Denial. It’s a phase you go through. I’ve seen it with loads of the children who arrive at the orphanage. It helps to believe your parents aren’t really dead. It’s all about hope.’

Malik felt a surge of resentment. He wasn’t going to listen to this. He said, ‘Mama’s not dead and I’m not making it up. As soon as we get off the ship, I’m coming back to look for her.’

‘Of course you are.’

‘I will!’

A man paused in front of them and looked down at his feet. He said, ‘I’ll get some money and come straight back.’

Steffan changed feet on the stool. ‘Look, I don’t mean to be a smart ass. It’s just that I know how it works. Anyway, I think it’s good to have a goal to aim for. And you’ll need money because it’s expensive to travel on a ship like this. Just don’t leave it too long because you’ll forget what they look like.’

Malik stopped cleaning Steffan’s shoes. ‘I don’t believe that.’

Steffan nodded at the cloth. ‘You need to buff them with that to make them shine. That’s how it’s done.’ Then he added, ‘Of course, you’re older than I was. My parents died when I was six, so maybe it won’t be the same for you.’

Malik picked up the cloth and polished Steffan’s toes. ‘Was it soldiers?’

‘Course not. Not back then. It was a car crash – I was in the car with them, and I came straight to the orphanage from the hospital. I even missed the funeral. At first I knew they were dead because I felt so bad that it had to be the only possible reason but
then, once the pain wore off, I began to think it was all a trick, you know, that they might still be alive. I thought they must have been kidnapped and held hostage. I spent a long time thinking everyone was lying to me. Then after about three years I forgot their faces. I just woke up one day and realized I couldn’t remember how they looked, and that’s when I had to admit that it must be true. I mean, if I couldn’t even remember their faces, then they had to be dead, right? And they weren’t coming back.’

Malik’s mouth was dry. ‘I won’t ever forget,’ he said quietly.

‘It helps if you have a photo. Do you have a photo?’

Malik shook his head. There had been a small, framed picture of Mama by the side of his bed at home, but Papa hadn’t thought to bring it when they had packed the rucksack with useful things for the journey.

Malik swallowed hard. ‘What about Oskar? He wouldn’t talk to me about his parents. Does he think they’re still alive too?’

Steffan looked down at his shoes. ‘They all do. That little kid Alex in the bunk next to yours, he thinks his mum is a secret agent who can’t reveal her
identity until she’s completed her mission. Oskar’s different because he’s new. He’s still in the painful stage. The soldiers shot his mum and dad in front of him, so if you think he’s mad now, you should have seen him when they brought him to the orphanage. He’ll still go through it, though. Everyone does. He’ll start thinking they weren’t really dead, that no one checked them and they crawled away to a doctor and got help. Something like that. But he’s got to get through the pain first. He’ll need me for that.’

Malik felt his heart as a heavy weight again, the same as he had in the purser’s office. ‘What if Miss Price puts you with different families? How will you help him then?’

‘She won’t.’ Steffan pushed out his chin. ‘She already knows it’s both of us or nothing. If we can’t stay together, we’ll run away.’

The man came back and paid for a shine with loose change. Steffan took the money while Malik put the passenger’s feet up on the stool and scrubbed till his arm ached.

After the first customer, there was a steady stream of takers as the deck got busier. Malik kept a lookout for Angelo Vex but he never saw him. He listened to snatches of conversation as he cleaned the shoes and
he noticed a change from the day before – people were being friendly and telling each other where they were from or where they hoped to end up once they were off the ship. People were more relaxed than yesterday. Perhaps it was because they wore clean clothes. They certainly looked better than they had at the port, with the men freshly shaved and the women wearing lipstick or pieces of jewellery. They took photographs from their wallets and handed them around in the hope that they might find some connection to each other. Husbands introduced their wives and children to others, only to be told they’d already met that morning, in the queue for the canteen or using the bathroom.

‘Where’s Oskar got to?’ asked Malik after they’d been working for over an hour.

Steffan handed out some change to a waiting man. ‘I don’t know. He’ll be around.’

‘And how much did he say he’d pay us?’ joked Malik. ‘I don’t remember him saying.’ They both laughed.

When Oskar did reappear, he had the purser with him and they carried a box of polished wooden discs and a set of sticks. They set them down on the deck. ‘It’s called shuffleboard,’ said the purser. He pointed
to a set of white lines on the opposite side of the deck. ‘It’s actually quite skilful. See those boxes over there? It’s basically curling. Well, more like crown green bowls, really. You use the stick to push the disc into the boxes with the most points. You play it in teams.’

Oskar emptied the discs out at their feet.

‘What about the shoeshine?’ asked Steffan. ‘We were just getting going.’

‘Never mind with that,’ Oskar told them. ‘This is loads better.’ He stood up on the railings and shouted, ‘Clear the space, please, ladies and gentlemen. Shuffleboard match about to commence. Come and try your luck.’

The purser showed them how it was done, by sending a puck into the box marked with a ten, and then they each took a turn. Other passengers joined in, and once there was sufficient interest Oskar organized a competition, the
Samaritan Cup
, with teams of four people. Each team paid a fee to enter and Oskar announced a small cash prize, then drew up a schedule of matches to be played, allowing time for the competition to be completed before the ship arrived the day after next.

The purser told them there was also a table-tennis
table that could be put up in the viewing lounge and there was a game of quoits in the same room.

Oskar brought them all together. ‘Right, I need referees for the matches to make sure there’s fair play and to record results. We’re also taking bets. Odds of up to four to one, but nothing more. If you’re not sure we can cover the bets come and find me before you write out a slip.’

‘I don’t understand how it works,’ said Malik.

‘Right. You better stay here with me till you learn. Steffan, you take the other room. You all right with that?’ Steffan nodded. ‘Good. I’ll be up to see how it’s going in a while.’

Malik refereed the first game, which involved standing beside the boxes and shouting out the score of each new disc. He also had to keep a running total so that everyone knew which team was winning.

The passengers began to enjoy themselves and behave as if the voyage was a brief holiday. ‘We may as well if we’re here, mightn’t we?’ They cleared the deck of washing lines and stood in the sunshine, watching the games and applauding the winners.

The purser came round the deck and he saw Malik and put a hand to his shoulder. ‘How’s that cat?’ he asked. ‘Keeping out of trouble?’

‘Yes, sir.’ Malik tugged the string on his wrist to show that Booty was safely tied to him.

When the last of the first-class passengers had left the canteen, they went for their own late breakfast. Oskar stayed out on deck, saying he had to work through, but Malik went with Steffan and they sat by the window to eat. He saw the Vex children come down the stairs from the upper deck, and when he returned to Oskar Malik noticed the family name listed to play a game of shuffleboard that afternoon. His heart sank. He looked around to see if they were close, and although he couldn’t see them it didn’t make him feel any better. He never wanted to see that man again.

‘I’m going back to the dorm,’ he told Oskar.

‘But you can’t. You’re my right-hand man.’

Malik shook his head. ‘I quit. I’m sorry.’

‘You won’t get paid.’

‘I don’t mind,’ Malik said. Then he added, ‘I’ll ask some of the other boys to come up and help.’

By mid-afternoon, Oskar had half the kids in the dormitory running the games for him and he came
to find Malik. ‘You have to come with me, I need you to do me a favour.’

‘I don’t want to work for you.’

‘This isn’t work. This is easy.’ Oskar took hold of Malik’s arm and pulled him up out of his bunk. He scooped up Booty and held him under his arm. ‘I need one of your candles too. Don’t worry, I’ll pay you for it.’

‘What do you want it for?’ asked Malik.

‘You’ll see. Come on.’

Malik followed Oskar along the passage. They climbed the scaffold staircase and came up to the lower deck. Oskar walked fast, dodging past the legs of the passengers on the benches and avoiding a crowd that had gathered to watch a game of
shuffleboard
. He headed for the walkway that ran alongside a double row of six lifeboats, and stopped when he reached them. He loitered at the second boat.

‘What are we doing here?’ complained Malik.

Oskar smiled at a passenger walking past, then casually leaned his arm on the top edge of the boat and flicked his eyes to the orange canvas cover, and Malik saw a metre of cord hanging loose where it had been untied.

‘When I lift up the canvas, you dive in.’ Oskar
knocked three times on the side of the lifeboat. ‘I’ll hand Booty through and follow you in.’ He took the loose edge of the cover in his fist and checked to make sure no one on the ship had taken an interest in them, then he lifted it high enough for Malik to fit through. ‘Go on,’ he ordered. ‘Go.’

Malik grabbed the rim of the boat and jumped up, grappling with his legs till he was under the gap in the canvas and tumbling down into the darkness of the boat. He stopped almost immediately, the back of his head banging against the wood hard enough that it hurt. It was pitch-dark and the air was heavy with the smell of cigarette smoke. He tried to sit up as another leg touched his own and somebody sniggered with excitement. He heard Steffan whisper, ‘Shhh …’

A box of light opened above his head. Malik looked up and there was Booty, a hand under his stomach, his feet kicking madly. Malik took hold of his cat and brought him down into the darkness. There was another snigger from inside the boat and Malik squinted, trying to see who was in there with him. He put a hand out behind him, felt an empty space and shuffled backwards on his bottom, then the box of light reappeared and Oskar suddenly came
crashing down, his heel catching Malik’s knee as he fell into the spot where Malik had sat only a moment before. Someone giggled again.

‘Did you get the candle?’ Malik didn’t recognize the voice but he guessed it belonged to an older boy.

‘Hang on,’ said Oskar. He moved himself off Malik’s leg.

There was the rattle of a matchbox, then the scratch and flare of a flame and Malik smelled phosphorus. He saw a pair of hands cupped around the wick, and when they withdrew he saw Oskar crouched less than a metre away, holding the candle in his fingers. Steffan sat hunched in the other end of the lifeboat, and either side of him were the sons of Angelo Vex, sitting in their expensive clothes, their legs folded, their hair parted crisply to one side and their black shoes shining in the candlelight.

The older boy held the crushed stub of a cigarette in his fingers as though it were still alight. Oskar nodded toward him. ‘Malik, I’d like you to meet Marcos. You’ll like him – he’s rich.’

The older boy laughed at that. He nodded at Malik, but his younger brother didn’t wait for an introduction.

‘I’m Sonny.’ The boy stretched out a green velvet arm, his fingers eager to take Malik’s hand, and he shuffled across the bottom of the boat with his eyes stuck on Booty.

Oskar was in the way. He leaned back so that Sonny could get to Malik. ‘He’s seen you with the cat,’ he explained. ‘He’s desperate to play with him, so I said he could meet you.’

Malik held Booty tight to his chest with both hands. ‘He’s mine!’ he said loudly. ‘He can’t have him.’

Oskar put a finger to his lips. ‘Keep it down,’ he hissed. ‘Someone will hear you.’

Sonny reached across Oskar with an outstretched arm, trying to touch Booty’s head, but Malik shifted backward till his spine nudged the end of the boat. ‘Don’t do that,’ he said. ‘I don’t like it.’

Oskar bent toward him. ‘It’s not a problem, Malik. Sonny is just like all the other little kids. He just wants to share.’ Oskar put a hand on Malik’s leg and smiled. ‘He can’t resist a cute cat.’