39. In which every step is an undertaking and there is a black speck on the horizon
IN WHICH EVERY STEP IS AN UNDERTAKING AND THERE IS A BLACK SPECK ON THE HORIZON
Septimus pushed off, and they began to slide.
Slowly at first, and then gaining in speed down the hillside.
They launched over a ridge, air underneath them.
Hester whooped, or screeched, she wasn’t quite sure what the sound that left her throat was.
And then they hit the ice again, pain shooting through her backside, skidding further down.
Septimus’s arms tightened around her. She didn’t know whether she was exhilarated or terrified, or both.
Another hump sent them flying again. Hester’s breeches were shredding, the pain of the ice on her skin a sudden sharp kick, adding to the existing bruises and aches.
And then they were at the bottom, slowing, rolling the last few metres. Hester sucked in a breath, and another, her heart pounding against her ribs as the world spun.
“Oh my God.” She glanced back at Septimus, grinning wildly, her cheeks stinging from the wind.
“We’re alive.” Septimus was patting himself down, and then reached for her, a laugh escaping his lips. “Come, there’s not far to go.”
Hester stood stiffly, wincing as she poked fingers through the holes in her trousers to the raw skin. She took a wobbling step forward, and another. “We’re almost there.”
They walked on.
Effort. It was such a huge effort. Every step an undertaking.
At noon they stopped to rest by a small river, the gurgle of the water a call to sleep.
Hester leant into Septimus’s side, letting her eyelids drop. “Just five minutes. Wake me in five minutes.” She had never been so tired in all her life.
Septimus held her close, rocking her a little, stroking hair from her face. Hester’s lips curled at the corners, and then she knew no more.
She awoke half an hour later, shivering. “That wasn’t five minutes.”
“No, but you looked very peaceful.”
“Your turn.”
Septimus shook his head. “I dozed a little too. Let’s go.”
He hauled her to her feet, and they walked further. She dragged her feet, unable to fully lift them from the ground. She was so exhausted. Just wanted to lie down in the snow. But no. Thoughts of the crew pushed her on.
They came to the top of a waterfall, and Hester peered over the edge. It was a long drop.
“No other way down,” Septimus said. “I’ll rope you down it, then follow on.”
“We’ll have to leave the rope behind.”
“Let’s hope we don’t need it again.”
Hester tied the rope off on an outcrop of rock, splashing through the top of the river, the end of the rope tied about her. Septimus paid out the rope, and she sat at the edge, inched herself over, gasping as the cold water poured down her body, soaking her quickly to the skin.
“Hurry, it’s freezing cold,” she said, dangling now from the top, the water rushing past. “Don’t drop me!” That would be a fine way to die, after all she’d faced.
“I wouldn’t. See you at the bottom.”
Hester shouted out as the rope ran quickly, and she dropped a few feet before there was a sharp tug, and she slowed, twirling in the water and the spray, holding her breath as best she could.
“Did you do that on purpose?” she yelled up. His laughter floated to her ears over the noise of the spray. Oh, she’d make him pay for that later. She laughed along, spitting water, thinking of ways to get her revenge. It was like dropping into the familiar rise and fall of a dance.
Her feet touched the stony base of the waterfall.
“I’m down,” she called, standing back as he hurled the logbook and stove down.
She gathered them up and watched his descent, and when he stood next to her, she held the last two items they possessed and laughed, slightly maniacally.
“We came here with two well-founded ships, full equipment and high hopes. And this is all we have left.”
Septimus smiled and kissed her roughly on the mouth. “It’s not all we have left.”
She speared her fingers into his hair, leaning against him, rubbing her nose against his. “No, it’s not.”
They walked hand in hand towards the whaling station. Towards the ramshackle clapboard houses and warehouses that seemed like an oasis in a frozen desert. Hester was sure if she blinked, it would all disappear.
“Wait. Before we go further, I can see your backside,” Hester said, fishing safety pins out of a pocket. “We cannot have the women of Stromness seeing you thus.”
She pinned him up, then added a few pins to her own trousers.
Septimus laughed, slightly unhinged. “We look a sorry state.”
“Speak for yourself, I’m sure I look ravishing.”
Septimus huffed a laugh. “Your hair is matted, and you have been wearing those same clothes for a year.”
“Still, ravishing.”
He draped an arm over her shoulder, and they staggered into the outskirts of the station, dodging the washing hanging on lines strung between the houses. Two young boys stared at them from a porch.
Hester could hardly believe she was seeing anyone other than her crew. “Hail! Where is the Master’s office?”
The two boys turned tail and fled inside the house.
“Absolutely ravishing, clearly,” Septimus said, chuckling.
Hester whacked him on the arm, her grin wide. She felt as if she were dreaming. Perhaps she was still asleep up on the glacier, and this was all happening in her mind.
An old man came walking down the dirt track. “Hello, which way to the Master’s office?” Septimus asked.
The old man stared at them, as if he’d seen the devil himself, and hurried away.
“This is not the reception I had envisioned,” Hester muttered. She had imagined flags, fanfare, people marvelling at her, perhaps being borne high up in the air.
They made their way to the wharf, and Septimus asked a sailor there, “Is Mr Sorlle here?”
“Yes.” The sailor took a step back from them, his nose wrinkled.
“We would like to see him.”
“Who are you?” the sailor asked.
Septimus said, “We have lost our ship. We came over the island.”
“Over the island?” The sailor’s tone was disbelieving. “That is impossible.”
“Fetch Sorlle.” Septimus looked ready to punch the poor man.
The sailor disappeared into the office, and moments later, another man emerged.
“Well?” Mr Sorlle was assessing them, turning the end of an impressive handlebar moustache between his fingers.
“Don’t you know me?” Septimus said.
Mr Sorlle’s eyes widened, and Hester swayed, clutching Septimus, almost sending them both over.
“I know your voice. But can it be? Lord Septimus?”
Septimus smiled.
“Come! Come inside. Tell me where you have been all this time. We thought you must surely be dead.”
Later that afternoon, after the most blissful bath she had ever had, and wearing brand new clothing so luxurious she thought she might be sick, Hester, Septimus and Mr Sorlle stood on the deck of a boat, heading fast for the curve of King Haakon Bay.
“I cannot wait to see them. I simply cannot wait,” Hester squealed, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
“WINSTON! PEGGY! FRANK!” Hester cawed as they approached the bay, to the three figures waving madly on the beach.
“And then to Elephant Island in three days’ time,” Septimus said, a broad smile on his face. “Now that will be something.”
Hester was still livid that there were no boats available to make the rescue immediately. “I hope they are all still well.”
Elephant Island
“It is hateful, and I HATE IT,” Rufus shouted across the beach, kicking stones everywhere. “If I have to drink one more cup of blubber oil, I will go and drown myself. I’ll do it, don’t try to stop me.”
Charlotte blew air into her cheeks and tried not to laugh. It wasn’t funny, really, but she was a little delirious. “Trust in the captain, Rufus. She’s coming. Coming to get us. Any day now.” She said it as much for herself as for Rufus. “Any day.”
Across the bay, an enormous sheet of ice crumbled from the edge of the glacier with the sound of a gunshot.
25th May 1916, off Elephant Island
Hester stood on the deck of the Southern Sky with Septimus, Peggy, Winston and Frank, her face in her hands. Thick ice lay ahead of them for miles, blocking the way to the island and her crew.
The skipper stood behind her. “We can get no closer, Captain Orn. The pack ice is too dense. The ship will not be able to push through it.”
This surely couldn’t be happening. “We have to. We have to get to them.” She’d tried melting the ice, but her magic only seemed to make it thicker.
“I’m sorry.” He went back to the wheelhouse.
Hester kicked the side of the ship, tears spilling down her cheeks.
“I cannot believe this,” she raged. “Look, I can see their shelter. But no people outside of it to even see that we’re here.
That we came for them. Surely we can get to them.
Somehow.” But she knew it was utterly helpless, utterly hopeless.
The ice blocked their way too thoroughly.
“HELLO!” Winston shouted over the ice.
Hester pulled at her hair. “This was the only available ship for weeks. And the weather will only worsen.”
They waited hours, until dense fog rolled in.
No one had appeared.
Septimus took his pistol out and raised it in the air.
He fired a shot.
Elephant Island
“Did you hear that?” Arnold asked, sitting up in his sleeping bag, a flurry of reindeer hairs scattering in the dank air of the hut.
“It’s just the glacier calving,” Charlotte said, snuggling closer into his side. She loved him, but the stench of him had her gagging a little.
30th August 1916, Elephant Island
“Any day now. She’s coming any day.” Charlotte stood sentry on the rocky beach, the washing of grey sea on the shore a constant reminder that it trapped them.
“Some days it’s hard to believe it. Wouldn’t they have been here by now? If all had gone well?” Arnold locked his fingers into hers and pulled her back towards the hut.
Charlotte turned to go with him. She supposed he was right. Maybe they were doomed to starve to death here after all. “Is it foolish? To keep hoping?”
He stared off into the waves for a long time, and then said, “If we are to die here…might we not…you know…” He looked at her longingly.
She had so wanted to wait and be married. Had truly believed that Hester would return. Could not come to terms with the fact that it was all over. A tear ran down her cheek, and she took his face in her hands. “I suppose there’s no harm in it, if no one is coming. Why not enjoy ourselves?”
Arnold’s eyes widened. “Truly?”
She laughed, her eyes filling with tears, and he picked her up, racing for the seclusion of the cliffs.
A voice floated on the wind. “Turn around, Charlotte, my dear.”
She peeked over Arnold’s shoulder, her heart hammering fast. She could have sworn she’d heard Ernie’s voice.
On the horizon was a tiny dot.
She gripped Arnold, hardly daring to believe it.
“Wait! Put me down. Call the crews, Arnold. Call them at once.”
Arnold set her down, frowning, then turned to look out to sea. “It cannot be. No. Not now! Why now?!”
Charlotte dropped his hand and ran for the hut, laughing wildly. “They have come for us!”
She flung herself through the canvas tunnel. “Get out here! Come quickly!”
She crawled back out, the wind whipping her pale hair. No one emerged from the hut. She called, “Hurry!” What were they all waiting for?
“This had better be good,” Fliss said, poking her head out of the canvas.
“Oh, it is good. It’s—oh, I can hardly believe it!”
The dot on the horizon was growing larger and larger with every passing minute.
Fliss grabbed Charlotte by the hands when she realised, and the two spun around, laughing.
Charlotte broke apart from Fliss, grasping Arnold by the face.
Tears welled in his eyes. She stood on her toes and kissed him.
The poor man was obviously overcome with emotion at the sight of the rescue party.
“What’s all the fuss about?” Betty asked.
“Look!” Charlotte pointed, and soon there were shouts and cheers and the whole crew were standing on the rocks, waving as the steamship approached. Charlotte could see a figure jumping up and down on the deck, waving.
Arnold stooped over her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist, kissing the top of her head. “We’re going home. And I am going to marry you so hard.”
Charlotte could only laugh at that.
Hester was screaming herself hoarse on the deck of the Yelcho.
The multicoloured flags strung between the boat’s chimneys flapped in the wind against the grey sky, and her heart rose at the sight of the crowd of men and women gathered on the rocks along the shore of Elephant Island.
Sparks snapped in the air around her as her magic leapt forth, spilling out just as surely as her love for her friends.
“We did it! And look, they’re all there. I can count them all,” she said, her cheeks hurting from the grin that threatened to split her face, gold tooth flashing.
She raced to the tender that was being dropped to the water and was the first onto the ladder to board it. “Fliss! I’m coming!” She could not wait to see them, to hug them, to tell them of their adventure and to hear how they were.
Within half an hour, the little tender landed on the beach. Hester leapt from it and dashed for Fliss, tears streaming down her face. She jumped on her greatest friend, kissing her face all over. The dogs crowded round, Snowball howling her joy.
“Are you all well?” Hester asked, her eyes searching for Charlotte.
“We are all well, Captain,” Charlotte said, a tear rolling down her cheek. “We are all well.”