Stay with Me (44 page)

It seemed as if his hopes were being fulfilled; in fact, he thought he sensed an easing in the storm, but from long experience knew those hopes could soon be dashed and turned into a nightmare.

Standing close to the helmsman, he tensed, every nerve in his body crying out that what he had just sensed was wrong. A change in wind direction! It was coming from the north-east and it was strengthening. Orders flew thick and fast but the majority were torn away by the wind. Confusion reigned on deck and with it helplessness which turned to horror at the sight of dark, towering waves flecked with wind-driven white, bearing down on them.

Men grabbed anything they could hold on to. The first wave struck then, sending the
Seagull
lurching and listing alarmingly to port. Miraculously she righted herself, only to find she was being swept along at the sea's will.

Battle as he might to bring order and maintain a situation in which the ship could withstand all the storm could throw at her, Captain Goss realised he was losing out to the ferocious conditions. Two sharp timber-rending bangs pierced the howling of the wind; Goss knew his masts were gone, which was confirmed when one crashed on to the deck, the other into the heaving water. They were now at the mercy of the sea.

How long they were driven at its will his numbed mind could not tell him, but eventually one horror was replaced by another when looming shapes, darker than the night, came into view. Before a warning could be raised there was the tearing sound of timber being ripped away from the vessel's side. The
Seagull
lurched on, as if intent on driving into the wall of rock that towered above only yards ahead. Just as suddenly she stopped, with the sea pounding over her, before grounding herself on the rocks at the foot of the treacherous cliffs.

Captain Goss knew he was powerless now; the crew accepted it would be every man for himself, but each would help a mate if he could. A giant wave swept over the ship. Goss heard cries of horror all around him, but could see no one. Screams rent the night only to be stifled by the wind and the greedy sea, eager for more victims. Goss grabbed a rail, steadied himself and hunched his body against the next wave with the tell-tale white flecks signalling its ferocity. He held on and was left with water streaming from him, but he had survived. He knew he must try to find safety ashore or else be battered to pieces like his ship before the unrelenting sea. As he straightened he glanced seawards to try to estimate when the next wave would strike, then stiffened with horror.

Two black shapes, held high on a wave, were thrown together in a rending collision, tossed this way and that by the sea's will and then sucked down into the maelstrom.

Captain Goss felt sick with dismay and helplessness. The men he knew and had talked to earlier in Hull were all gone. He let the next wave break over him then slid over the side. He found purchase between some rocks and, with difficulty, scrambled clear of the sea that would draw him back to join his drowned crew.

 

Captain Goss stirred. There were voices talking far away, a note of urgency in them. They became more distinct and seemed to be directed at him. His eyes flickered open but he shut them again quickly. Too bright! Daylight? Someone was touching him.

‘Can you hear me?'

He opened his eyes again. Squinting up, he became aware of a circle of people surrounding him. A bearded face leaned towards his.

‘Can you hear me?' the man said again.

Captain Goss nodded, and saw the relief on the face above reflected in the others around him. He struggled to sit up and felt strong arms help him.

‘Do you want to stand?'

He hesitated, opened his eyes wider, then nodded and was immediately assisted to his feet. He swayed a little, and was thankful for the support.

Everyone was curious to know more about him but, having been forewarned by the bearded man, did not crowd him.

Goss glanced around. They were standing beneath cliffs, which, to the right, sloped away to more gentle terrain and cottages clinging to a lower incline. ‘Where am I?' the captain asked

‘Ravenscar cliffs. That's Robin Hood's Bay.'

He nodded. He knew of the fishing village and the bay, which was a notorious graveyard for storm-bound ships driven ashore.

‘I'm Captain Goss of
The Seagull
out of Hull. Are there any other survivors?'

Heads were shaken and the bearded man said, ‘None. We found no one else. Two other ships foundered as well. We found timbers from their bows, the
William Hustwick
and the
Lena.'

‘We all left Hull together, bound for the Baltic.' Goss glanced round at their doleful faces, panic in his eyes. ‘I must report the news!'

‘You need medical attention first,' the bearded man pointed out.

‘I'll survive. What I need is help getting to Hull. If there is no other means of getting there, I'll take a horse.'

‘But . . .'

‘I ride. I worked on a farm before going to sea.'

‘I'll let you have a horse,' someone offered.

‘Thank you, Mr ...' Captain Goss started to move towards the speaker.

‘Wilf Gregson,' the man introduced himself. ‘Come with us.' He indicated the woman next to him. ‘My wife, Mildred.'

‘You can have a bite to eat while he gets the horse ready.'

‘I'm obliged, ma'am.' Goss glanced round the crowd. ‘Thank you all for your concern. If there are any questions, the three ships belonged to the firm of Hustwick's in Hull.' On legs that seemed hardly to belong to him, he stumbled after his Good Samaritans.

Half an hour later he was riding fast for Hull, the thrumming of the hooves matched by the name repeated again and again in his tortured mind. Lena Hustwick . . . Lena Hustwick . . . this was all her fault and she must pay.

 

The news of the shipwrecks spread quickly to nearby Whitby. Ralph Bell received the news in his office and was saddened and horrified to hear of this loss of life for which, in some part, he realised he was responsible. But Lena Hustwick had fallen for his bluff when she need not have done. Greed had been her downfall. Ultimately the blame was hers. Meanwhile he had Carnforth's vessels to direct. They need not sail. Well, not to the north, that could wait until after the winter. Now they could head for southern markets left open by Hustwick's losses. He would inform the captains of the change in their sailing plans.

 

Captain Goss had recognised a strong animal as soon as he saw the mare and did not spare her on his ride to Hull. She responded well as if knowing the urgency of her mission. The white-flecked, steaming horse, ridden fast, attracted attention when he reached Hull, and people quickly recognised the Grimsby captain or else heard his shouts of: ‘All Hustwick's ships lost!' The news spread through the streets like wildfire; soon knots of people were gathering, and comments and opinion ran rife. Lena's insistence that the ships sail in bad conditions had not gone unnoticed by the townsfolk.

Peter, making his way to the office, gasped when he heard some news being shouted from person to person.
Three
ships lost? It couldn't be true. Yet he sensed the information must be right; there was no reason for anyone to set such a rumour abroad, and last night the weather had been cruel. Voices ran like a river through the streets and the name of Hustwick was spoken everywhere with loathing and condemnation.

Peter kept his head down, hoping people would be too busy talking to each other to notice him. He gathered from the storm of abuse hurled at his wife that her insistence on the ships' sailing was widely known and she personally was being blamed for what had happened. There was every indication the townsfolk were forming into a mob and he feared their anger would prevail if the situation got out of control. Although he had not condoned his wife's order, and knew there was every justification for people's hostility towards her, he could not let Lena face them alone. He must go to her.

 

Captain Goss realised he had set the fire and vowed he would be at the office before it gathered heat. He pulled up outside the building and was out of the saddle almost before the horse had stopped. He flung the reins to an urchin looking to earn a copper or two. ‘Look after her,' he called to the boy, who caught the reins. Before he could say anything, Goss was into the building.

He did not wait to be announced but ran straight up the stairs where, without ceremony, he flung open the door to Lena's room and stormed in.

‘You cruel, murdering bitch!'

A shocked Lena jumped to her feet. ‘Captain Goss! What . . .?'

He cut her short viciously. ‘Your three ships are lost, and I am the only survivor. You wouldn't be told, would you? You greedy, stupid, good-for-nothing she-wolf! All those good men gone because of
your
stupidity; you who wouldn't listen. All those ruined lives! Widows and orphans face a bleak future . . . because of you!'

The hatred blazing in his eyes sent a shudder through Lena. The horror of this news stunned her. Her face drained of colour, she sank down on her chair. It was finished for her then. She foresaw nothing but contempt and hatred wherever she went in Hull. Everyone here would hold her responsible for the deaths and the dire consequences they brought in their wake. She saw that a reputation for risking the lives of others would never leave her. Her world lay in ruins, and with it her ambitions.

Hustwick's, with which she had been determined to wreak her vengeance and seize control of Carnforth's, was finished. She had lost Peter's inheritance and had nothing of her own to fall back on save for the six-monthly credit stipulated by her father and rent from the house. There would be virtually nothing left. How could she face Peter?

Even as these and other questions raged through her mind, she was aware of Captain Goss continuing his tirade against her. Accusation and condemnation assailed her. She clasped her hands over her ears, trying to shut out the damning words, but failed.

The door burst open then and Peter burst in. He had heard the last expletives shouted at his wife by Captain Goss. His stride did not falter as he swung his fist at the captain, catching him square on the jaw. Leaving the man unconscious on the floor, Peter grabbed Lena's arm.

She recoiled from the condemnation and disgust in his eyes, too. For one moment she saw that he was on the point of leaving her alone, to face the consequences of those ill-judged, selfish orders which had sent so many men to their deaths. But then his look changed to one of pity.

‘Come on, before things get too ugly out there,' he urged, bustling her out of the door. On the landing, she stood frozen in indecision, terror stark in her face. Outside she could hear the jeering and catcalls of the families of the lost men and their sympathisers, gathered outside the building. They were demanding retribution for her insistence on forcing the ships to sail,

She stared at Peter, unable to speak. ‘Come on, it will be all right.' He did his best to sound reassuring as he propelled her to the bottom of the stairs, where she resisted again. ‘We've got to get out of here before that mob turns ugly. Is the trap out the back?' he called to Frampton who had been drawn into the corridor downstairs by all the commotion.

‘Yes, sir.'

Peter hustled his wife outside. As soon as she was in the trap, he was beside her, urging the horse on its way.

The trap swayed with their gathering speed and Lena held on tight as Peter urged the animal away from the building before their escape was discovered.

He came out on to one of the main thoroughfares. When he judged they had put sufficient distance between them and the office, he slowed the horse, not wanting to attract attention. They kept up a reasonable pace until he pulled the animal to a halt outside Greta's house.

Greta jumped to her feet, alarm in to her face when she saw the agitated state of her cousin and his wife. ‘What's the matter?' she asked.

‘We need to stay the night,' said Peter. ‘I'll explain after I've seen to the horse and trap.'

The urgency of his tone was not lost on her. ‘I'll get Gideon to see to that.' She was already at the bell-pull, signalling for her groom to be called.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Greta said, ‘You both look as if you could do with a drink.' She poured two glasses of wine and encouraged them to take a sip. ‘Can you tell me what happened?' she enquired.

Lena's glance told Peter to make the explanation, and she knew from the look he gave her in return that he would hold nothing back. It seemed as if the whole world had turned against her. But what else could she expect? She started to shake.

Greta noted it. She picked up her shawl, which she had laid on a chair earlier, and draped it round Lena's shoulders. ‘Now tell me,' she said, looking to Peter for an explanation.