38. In which salt is spilt and the hardships seem to belong in the limbo of forgotten things #2
He kissed the top of her head, tightening his arm around her. “You can have me for life.”
“We’ll be like a pair of eagles.”
“They mate for life?”
“Yes. The book said they court each other by flying up very high, locking talons, and then falling together as far as they dare. Sounds thrilling, doesn’t it?”
Septimus’s laugh was a rumble in his chest. “Not unlike our courtship.”
Courtship. Is that what he was calling the months of torment and strife? Hester smiled. “I suppose not.”
He looked pensive for a moment. “Are you ready to talk about her? Your mother?”
Hester sighed and tucked herself closer into his side. Was she? She wasn’t sure. “I just found her, or she found me. And now she is gone.” Stating facts was safe. Wasn’t it?
“When my father died…it took a long time. A very long time before I felt like myself again. It was like he took a piece of me with him. Or I let a piece of myself go. I don’t know.”
Hester cocked her head, studying his sombre expression. “I think I know exactly what you mean.”
Elephant Island
They just had to be alright. Charlotte stood on the shore, sick to death of the blank, grey horizon. Arnold wrapped an arm around her, kissing the top of her head. Sooty, Romeo, Marjorie and the pups rolled together a little further up the beach, snapping and growling in their game.
Charlotte clasped her hands together. “I wonder if they’ve made it.”
“By now, you’d think so.”
The alternative was unthinkable, but it didn’t stop Charlotte imagining the lifeboat sinking beneath the waves some nights, when she couldn’t sleep for the stench and the noise of the gales that relentlessly battered their hut.
“I was thinking of giving everyone a ration of methylated spirits and asking Rufus to play the banjo.” She was utterly fed up of the low mood. Had been staring at the waves wondering what Hester would do about it.
“I think that’s a fine idea,” Arnold said, kissing her cheek and smiling down at her.
“Let’s go and tell them.” She hurried back to the hut over the shingle and ducked through the canvas tunnel. Heads turned towards her, sullen “Hullos” uttered.
“I thought we could have a little party. A measure of methylated spirit and a rendition on the banjo, Rufus? If you would?”
Rufus’s face lit up. “I would!”
“Hear hear. I’ll go and fetch the meths,” Valerie said. “Let’s hope we don’t need it for any medical matters, eh?” She disappeared out of the hut.
Charlotte smiled and sat on the stony floor. Her idea had gotten the exact reaction she was hoping for; the men and women sitting up, faces a little less miserable.
Rufus pulled out his banjo and began plucking at the strings, a joyful little tune that had Charlotte tapping her fingers. Arnold and Valerie reappeared with the bottle of meths and passed it round, topping up the cups with water.
Charlotte raised her glass in the dim light of the hut. “To loved ones back home, to God, to King and Country, and all of you fine people I have come to call friends. There is nowhere I would rather be than here with you all.”
“Cheers,” Betty said. “To you, Boss. You make it all worthwhile.”
Charlotte beamed. “You’re just saying that.”
“I am not!”
“Despite the hardships, I’m glad I got to voyage with you, Boss,” Rufus said, plucking a note from the banjo in emphasis.
“Despite the lack of toes, I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Tom said, raising his glass.
There was a laugh, and a rumble of approval as more glasses were raised, and Charlotte blushed.
She really couldn’t think of anywhere she’d rather be, which was partly why the bad spirits of the crew had gotten her so down.
To know that, deep inside, they were pleased to be here… well, that meant everything.
“Shall we have a song, then?” Rufus asked.
“How about the Hester song?” Mei said.
Rufus grinned and started the tune up.
“Oh, the Weddell Sea is a cruel mistress,
Where the floes stretch ever more,
But Captain Hester Orn set out,
To seek the Antarctic shore.”
20th April 1916, Interior of South Georgia
Midnight had come and gone, and progress across the glacier was slow but steady. Hester hummed the shanty that Charlotte had written all those months ago as she cut steps into the ice, the moon lighting a silver path for her to follow.
“Through pack ice and the sparkling mists,
Her sturdy ship did glide,
And when the giant orca came near,
She refused to run and hide.”
“What’s that you’re singing?” Septimus asked.
“Oh, just a song someone special wrote. Say, is that Stromness down there?” Hester pointed down. She was sure the shapes in the moonlight were the harbour entrance.
“Possibly. In that case, we’re not too far away. Thank God for that, I can barely go another step.”
Hester didn’t think she could, either, but the thoughts of the crew on Elephant Island, of Peggy, Winston and Frank in King Haakon Bay, kept her going.
They descended the glacier further.
“Wait. No. That isn’t Stromness. We are still on the Fortuna Glacier.” Septimus hung his head. “There is further to go.”
Elephant Island
The crew were roaring with laughter, and Charlotte’s cheeks ached from smiling.
“The person most likely to get into a fight with a sea elephant,” Mei said.
Fingers pointed at Rufus and Tom, and the young stowaway threw up his hands.
“As if I’d fight a sea elephant with only five toes,” he said, laughing.
“I’m happy to take the measure,” Rufus said, catching hold of Tom’s hands and kissing his fingers. “I’d rather you were missing toes than fingers, if you catch my meaning.”
Tom laughed, their gazes lingering.
Rufus held his cup out to Valerie, who poured a tiny splash of meths into it. “The person most likely to steal your tobacco.”
Fingers pointed to Emlyn, who rolled his eyes. “I thought that roll was mine.”
Mei glowered at him. “That’s what you always say.”
“The person most likely to hot-foot it to the church for the reading of the banns when we get home,” Emlyn said, a coy smile on his scratched face.
Charlotte laughed and pointed to Arnold along with the rest of the crew.
Above Stromness Whaling Station, South Georgia
The snow looked more and more inviting. Hester only needed a little lie down to ease the ache in her bones. Only for a moment.
The rising sun cast pink and purple streaks across the sky, silhouetting the mountains at their backs. They had trudged through the snowfield all night. Finally, a steep icy slope stood before them, Stromness close to the bottom of it.
Hester’s legs were barely holding her upright. Her lungs ached with the cold and exertion, and she couldn’t feel her fingers or toes.
Septimus shivered, shielded his eyes and looked out over the slope towards the sea. “There’s this slope, or the safer way down will take us around the bay. It’s an extra five miles.”
Hester couldn’t imagine another five miles. “I say we slide down this hill. I’m so tired I could lie down and never get up again.” The fact that she was considering it scared her more than anything.
“What if there’s a crevasse at the bottom?”
“So be it. We die up here, or we die down there. Or we make it.”
“It’s come to that?”
“It has.”
Septimus shucked off his coat and sat on it, legs wide. He patted the space before him, and Hester sat down.
“Wait. Do you hear that?” he asked.
So faint she could hardly hear it; a whistle. It could have been the wind.
Hester fumbled in her pocket, drawing out her watch. “It’s six thirty.”
His eyes lit up. “Do you understand what that was? It’s the rousing call for the whalers.”
She laughed hysterically. “There are other people—just down there. After all this time!”
“The first sound of civilisation since December 1914.”
Her aching chest almost caved in, her brows drawing together. They had been through so much. So very much to arrive here. “Pain and ache, boat journeys, marches, hunger and fatigue,” she whispered. “They all seem to belong to the limbo of forgotten things.”
Septimus laughed heartily. “We are going to make it after all. Are you ready?” He shuffled them to the edge of the icy slope.
“Wait,” she said. “I love you.” She tugged at the tether in her chest.
He tugged back. “And I love you.” He kissed the top of her head.
“Like the eagles, tumbling down from the sky.”
“Like the eagles.” He pushed them the last inches to the edge. “Hold on tight, little witch.”