Chapter Twenty-Seven
B oring? Hardly, not with Admiral Collingwood himself signing on as crew on the Swallow , with Bounce as his companion.
Collingwood’s flagship remained at anchor near Gibraltar.
‘You’ll never know I am here, Captain Beattie,’ he said, which made the admiral and captain both laugh.
To Anna’s relief, none of it bordered on the hysterical.
Collingwood was a good companion for the sail to Menorca, the smaller of the four Balearic Islands and possessing the best harbour at Port Mahon, with its deep inlet, so he told them.
To Anna’s delight, the admiral sat beside her on the quarterdeck in another canvas chair, commenting on seabirds, and admonishing Bounce not to think about trying to catch one.
That night under sail, Anna brought out a basket of her husband’s overused socks and darned them in the wardroom, with the admiral comfortable on that same canvas chair, moved below-deck.
He watched her homely housewifery, peace in his eyes.
It took only minor urging on John’s part to encourage a few sea yarns from Collingwood to his ever-attentive audience in Allan and Pru.
He pronounced himself rejuvenated by this small snatch of leisure.
‘My dears, I have not looked at a chart or a letter of complaint in a whole twenty-four hours,’ he said before retiring for the night in the Captain’s quarters—the best Swallow had to offer—where the swinging platform had been hastily restored to its proper function.
‘Where are we sleeping?’ she whispered to John.
‘Quietly and properly in the Purser’s quarters,’ he whispered back. ‘He stayed behind on the Queen to subdue his own paperwork. Allan and Pru will be on pallets here in the wardroom.’
She was dubious about the Purser’s sleeping platform, but they were at tight quarters. John helped her in, only smiling a little when she clutched him in fright, and settled herself for actual sleep.
‘See there? It’s a nice motion,’ he assured her as they swung to the rhythm of the wind and waves. ‘By God, all additional shenanigans aside, you are a pleasant little bundle to cuddle, Mrs Beattie.’
They were wakened early by Admiral Collingwood’s cheerful halloo and a light tapping on the door, which he opened. ‘Captain Beattie, let us take a turn about the deck,’ he ordered. ‘I must know more about your suggestion to work in tandem with the Yankee captain.’
‘Aye, sir. Let me extricate myself carefully without dumping out my wife. I’d like her to still enjoy Navy life. Give us a moment.’
Collingwood laughed. ‘Mrs Beattie, you should have been more wary when the Navy came to call,’ he said, and added, ‘I have the utmost respect for a lady who is so kind to provide aid and comfort to that sorry carcass beside you. Accept my great admiration, dear madam.’
Who could object to that? ‘He’ll be on deck in a minute,’ she said.
It was more than a minute as her husband carefully climbed from the platform and she hung onto the sides. When the motion stopped, he lifted her out and kissed her. ‘You’ll be in a bed tonight that doesn’t move, unless we want it to.’
‘You’re a rascal, John Beattie. Go on deck and walk with the other rascal on board.’
She enjoyed the private time of washing and dressing, then walking into the wardroom to see Allan and Pru playing cat’s cradle, while John’s steward whistled and set the table for breakfast.
‘Missy, where are we going?’ Allan asked. ‘Is there a house somewhere?’
She took him on her lap, enjoying the fragrance of little boy, even as she wondered at the trust of children, who, as far as she could tell, seemed to think that adults knew what they were doing.
She understood how easy it was to love a child, especially one who had been set adrift by people who should have provided for his welfare. He was her Allan now; she knew it.
She looked at Pru, watchful Pru, who had saved John’s son. She gestured her closer. ‘I have room for you on my lap, too,’ she told the girl with the too-old eyes. ‘I always will.’
To both her delight and her deep compassion, she watched those eyes change a little, just a little, almost to a child’s eyes.
‘I do not know what our life will be like in Port Mahon,’ she told them. ‘I’ve never been there, either, but the admiral wants us to reside in his house. That way, Allan, when your father makes port, we will be there waiting for him.’
‘I wondered what was going to happen to us,’ the boy said, cuddling close.
‘It’s hard not to know, isn’t it? There’s a war, and I sometimes wonder if any of us knows what will happen.’
‘Even grown-ups?’ Allan asked. ‘Grown-ups know everything.’
‘I wish we did.’ Anna kissed his head, then Pru’s.
‘I do know this, though: we will do our best in Port Mahon and…’ It struck her with that same force that had told her John Beattie might be an easy man to fall in love with if she wasn’t careful.
‘We will do our best together, because I love you.’ Oh, Pru’s watchful eyes. ‘Allan, I love you and Pru.’
‘Me too, Missy?’
‘Yes, my darling girl, yes,’ Anna said softly, wanting nothing to break the charm of the moment.
When John returned from his walk on deck with Admiral Collingwood and Bounce, she quietly delighted in his gentle embrace, in its own way as exciting as his passion.
‘Anna, here we are. Admiral Collingwood’s generosity to us is our first home. In the whole horrific jumble of events that is war, I never expected this.’
What could she say to that? A kiss sufficed.
Admiral Collingwood stood on the quarterdeck, hands clasped behind his back, looking up and up at the village of white stone, interspersed with pastel-painted structures and lush Mediterranean greenery, perched so high above the bay.
‘It’s enchanting,’ Anna said, ‘More a painting than reality.’
‘Should I pinch you, Mrs Beattie?’
‘Don’t you dare!’
‘Bring us in, Mr Marsing,’ Captain Beattie said, and stood beside the admiral.
Anna clasped hands with her children, in perfect accord with Pru’s gasp, ‘Gor, Missy, it’s splendid!’ and Allan’s, ‘It’s not like Plymouth!’ There they were, the five of them plus Bounce, lining the railing.
Since it was a deep-water harbour, Mr Marsing directed the crew to snub the Swallow right to the wharf.
She counted eighteen guns on a larger frigate anchored offshore, and multiplied by two.
‘That’s the Reliant ,’ John said. ‘A thirty-six.’ She heard the fondness in his voice as he spoke to Allan.
‘Son, I was a midshipman aboard her, seven years older than you are, and scared out of my wits.’
‘You weren’t always a captain?’
‘Nay, lad, nay.’
‘I could do that, too?’
‘If ye have a mind to, and if Missy doesn’t object.’
Anna listened to them, hearing no stilted conversation because they knew each other now.
She recalled awkward conversations with Will after he returned from a year at sea, as they reacquainted themselves with each other’s habits and minor eccentricities.
She watched husband and son, and gestured Pru closer.
Her arms encircled the ever-watchful girl.
Soon the sails were furled and the gangplank lowered. The bosun piped over the admiral first, then Allan and Pru—properly impressed—with Bounce skipping around them and nearly tumbling overboard.
Anna followed on Captain Beattie’s arm. He turned and lifted his hat to his crew. ‘Mr Marsing, release them in timely fashion. Men, don’t embarrass me or the Swallow . We sail tomorrow with the tide.’
Too soon , Anna thought sadly, too soon . But this was not the time to mourn something she had no control over, not when there was a new world open to her view unlike anything she had ever seen.
‘Here I am,’ she said. It sounded foolish.
‘And I am beyond grateful,’ her husband said. ‘Speaking of which, look at that climb ahead.’
There, directly ahead, she stared at a formidable rank of steps to the town high above. ‘How many?’
‘I counted them once, when I was a midshipman. One hundred and fifty, if you are sober,’ he said as they began the climb. ‘Thousands more if you are drunk on Madeira.’ He laughed. ‘Or perhaps two steps and a lengthy roll, which would bring you to the attention of the surgeon.’
The children raced ahead, Allan stopping only to stare at darting green lizards then trying to catch one.
Anna appreciated John’s slow, deliberate pace, probably for her benefit.
She turned to watch Admiral Collingwood and his entourage of junior officers behind them.
When she paused, the admiral cupped his hands around his mouth.
‘Go on, my dears, save yourselves,’ he shouted.
‘They’re called the Pigtail Steps,’ John said, after the laughter subsided. ‘You know, after many a sailor and his pigtail.’
‘Did you ever…’
‘No, madam,’ he replied. ‘I look silly in a pigtail. Tried once, though, in the South Pacific.’
And that was enough conversation until they reached the top, and Port Mahon proper. ‘We’ll wait for the admiral,’ he said, when he could speak.
Luckily, it was a comment that required no reply. He turned her around for a look back to the bay.
‘Oh, my,’ she said softly. ‘Oh, my.’
‘There are inlets all around Menorca,’ he said. ‘This is the deepest, but a hard one to leave when winds are unfavourable.’ He tightened his grip on her waist. ‘With you and our children here, it might always be a hard one to leave.’
Our children , she thought in delight. It sounded so lovely.
He drew her close, which earned them both a ‘Huzzah’ from Admiral Collingwood, who’d finally reached the top and couldn’t utter anything else. They guided him to a convenient stone bench, probably placed there to show mercy to newcomers.
When he could speak, the admiral nodded to one of the younger officers who had gone ahead, apparently bargaining with a Menorcan sitting atop a wagon pulled by two donkeys. ‘It’s not a coach and four, but it will take us to my house.’
‘Which is where, sir?’ Anna asked.
He gestured along the shore. ‘Not far. There’s an inlet closer to where Menorca meets the Mediterranean.
It commands a view of the harbour’s entrance.
Strategy, my boy,’ he said to John, then turned to Anna.
‘On the beach below my house I can see everything coming and going. My dear, you could be the first to see Captain Beattie when he pulls into port.’
‘I expect I will be,’ she said softly, feeling no urge to look away like a maiden. ‘I will watch,’ she said to John alone, when the admiral stood up to wait for the now-approaching cart.
The children joined them. John’s arm went around his son’s shoulders automatically, and Pru sat next to her, not presuming. She smiled when Anna put her arm around her, too.
‘Papa, is this place going to be our home?’
‘For a while.’
‘Will you be here?’
It was a good question. Anna listened for his answer. She heard John’s struggle, and the almost imperceptible way he moved closer to her until they were hip to hip.
‘As often as the Swallow and I can sail into port,’ he replied finally. ‘I have no control over the French, and they are the enemy. Son, you saw them in action firsthand.’
Allan was the logical sort. ‘We were downstairs…’
‘Below-deck…’
‘Below-deck in that little ship, and we were afraid.’ Allan amended himself. ‘ I was. Dunno about Missy and Pru.’ He looked at his father. ‘Do you ever get afraid?’
‘All the time,’ John said, which touched Anna deep in that place only he had reached inside her.
‘Then how…’
Yes, how? I want to know, too , Anna thought. She hesitated, then put her hand on his leg.
He was silent for a long moment, this husband of hers, silent until he looked up at Admiral Collingwood’s ‘Hello!’ across the little commons ground, where he stood by the donkey and cart, their luggage already loaded. John raised his hand in acknowledgement.
He looked at her, so serious, then down at Allan. ‘I do it for you, son, and Missy and Pru. It is my duty to swallow my fear and protect those I love and our nation, God save it.’
His smile was for Anna alone. ‘Let’s go and see our new home. Allan, I’ll wager you can outrun Pru.’
The children took off towards the admiral and Bounce.
‘Was I wrong to say that?’
It was her turn to think of some way to express how she felt to this man she admired more every moment. She thought of the grinding war that had been going on for more than a decade now.
‘You were perfectly right,’ she said softly, for his ears only. ‘Counting the cost is more mathematics than I can do. I will never know your sort of courage.’
He kissed her hand. ‘Though painful at times, it’s also easy when you consider the alternative. As for your courage, don’t underestimate yourself. I shan’t.’