Barefoot and Lost (45 page)

     ‘
Billy
, do you feel a bit sad?’

     ‘No why should I be?’

     ‘I don’t know-----’

     ‘
PHIL
,
PHIL
,’ I turn around to see who is calling me, my eyes light up, that flutter in my stomach returns.

     ‘
Rachel
, what are you doing here?’

     ‘Going to
Australia
want to come?’ Throwing my arms around her I give her a huge hug and a kiss on the cheek; completely taking me and
Rachel
by surprise.

     ‘I am now that you’re going.’ One of the nuns stops, places her hand on my shoulder,  

     ‘Are you two related?’

     ‘No Sister, we are just very good friends.’

     ‘In that case my child I suggest that this young man un- hands you, I will not tolerate this sort of behaviour in public, consider your reputation.’ I stop hugging stepping back, we hold hands looking at each other, the hair on my neck prickles, I can feel the heat creeping up my neck, and my ears start to burn. The nun glares at me; her glare breaks into a smile as she sees my embarrassment.
Rachel
gives my hand a squeeze then slips hers out of mine, and turns to follow the rest of the girls, giving me her special wave from the hip.

     ‘Is she your girlfriend?’
Billy
asks,

     ‘I suppose she is, I really like her a lot.’

     ‘Is she a Taig?’

     ‘A what; what’s a Taig?’

     ‘A left footer, you’re a proddy aren’t you?’

     ‘
Billy
, what the hell are you talking about?’ 

     ‘Christ, don’t you English know nothing; is she RC, a Roman Catholic?’

     ‘I don’t think so, she used to go to church with the rest of us at Saint S’s, why, and does it matter?’

     ‘Of course it bloody matters, well it does where I come from, if she’s not, what is she doing with them bloody penguins?’

     ‘Penguins
,
what penguins?
Billy
, I am really confused now, please speak English so I can understand.’

     ‘Penguins, the nuns, if you are getting mixed up with that lot you can count me out as a friend. I’m born and bred orange and always will be, I want
nothing to do with that lot of
shites.’ The anger is oozing out of him, he looks like he is about to explode as he storms off up the deck, whistling a tune, his hands beside his face, his fingers making out they are playing a flute. I let him go I have no idea why he is so upset but I expect he will get over it, and if he doesn’t, I don’t really care now
Rachel
is here.

     We are now several hundred yards from the quay, the people standing there waving are no longer individuals, gradually merging into a mass of colour. ‘How do you feel
Phil
?’
I turn to my left to see Chalky standing beside me, leaning on the rail.

     ‘I don’t know
Mr.
White-----
’

     ‘Chalky remember.’

     ‘Sorry; Chalky, I don’t know mixed I think, sad that I won’t ever see my foster parents and friends in
England
again, but excited about all the new people and things I will see.’

     ‘Yep, I reckon that sums it up, we must look forward and make the most of this opportunity that has been given to us to start a new life.’

     ‘Chalky, what will we be doing while we are on the ship; can we just do as we please?’

     ‘Definitely not, some of the younger ones would go wild, even get injured or
go overboard. A ship is a dangerous place without proper care and attention; there are one hundred and forty seven kids on this ship and only six escorts, that’s twenty four or there about, each to look after. Clearly we won’t be able to do it on our own, so we will need the help of the likes of you to oversee the younger ones, the escorts are meeting tonight to work out how we will do it.’

     The Tannoy crackles into life with an announcement about first sitting for dinner. 

     ‘That’s us
Phil
, round up everyone you see from our coach, girls as well, and we will meet in the dining room in twenty minutes.’ I don’t really want to go for dinner; I’d much prefer to watch the tug boat that is alongside, helping the
Asturias
into open water.

     I wake to the sound of Nigel moaning and a juddering and creaking sound from the ship
.
My bunk is swaying from side to side, I feel sick, but if I lay flat and close my eyes the feeling is not so bad. I hope it is not going to be like this all the way to
Australia
.

     The weather has become worse, several people have been sick, poor Nigel
,
is very bad, he looks as grey as the blanket that is wrapped around him. Chalky has made the rest of us go up on deck, getting there is a problem, as I seem to be holding onto everything I can find. 

     Up on deck the wind is blowing a gale, I’ve tried to open the door onto deck, but I can’t open it against the strength of the wind. It is only after a steward takes my hand, leads to the other side of the ship and pushes the door open with one hand, to show me how easy it is.

    There are so many people on that side, most looking very ill; it’s a wonder the ship doesn’t capsize. The fresh air makes me feel better, but it is so difficult to walk that I have found a spot beside a lifeboat out of the rain, where I intend to stay.

      The bad weather has continued for almost four days. Chalky shakes me, ‘Come on
Phil
, come, and have a look at the Rock.’

     ‘What rock?’

     ‘Gibraltar; the Rock of Gibraltar, we are just entering the straits; not long now before we will be in the
Mediterranean
.’ On deck the skies are still grey, the rain has stopped and the wind has dropped. Through the gloom of early morning I can see a huge white cliff rising from the sea,

     ‘What country is it?’

     ‘British, it belongs to
Britain
; we pinched it from the Spanish in the early seventeen hundreds. They want it back but we are refusing, because who controls it controls the entrance to the Med.’ I’ve never been there but they say it is a bit like
England
, with
Bobbies
and red telephone boxes.’ The sun is just breaking through a cloud, glinting on something on the other side of the ship.

     ‘Where’s that over there?’

     ‘
Morocco
and that is probably Tangiers.’

     ‘I know; that’s Africa wow, I can’t believe I’m looking at
Africa
.’

     ‘Exciting isn’t it? If your arms were a bit longer you could reach out and touch both Europe and
Africa
at the same time.’    

     The weather has become hot, games have been organized for the younger kids,
Billy
is talking to me again since he has found out that, with the grouping arranged by the escorts
Rachel
is now in
Christine
’s group and has nothing to do with the nuns. It is great because we are now able to talk without the risk of upsetting anyone.
Rachel
, like me, is being adopted by the brother and his wife of the couple that have adopted her sister
Miriam
. They are Australian and are returning to
Melbourne
at the end of the year so, although they will be with different families, they will be together
,
Rachel says, like cousins instead of sisters.

     Rachel has met Miriam’s new family and likes them, I just wish
I knew who I was going to, it’
s not fair, they have seen my photo but I haven’t any idea what they look like, they could have two heads. I hope they don’t want me to change my name, I don’t think I want to be
Phillip
Barton
.

     I’m awake early,
the engines have stopped. Slipping off my bunk I look through our porthole but can see only water. Quickly dressing I give
Billy
a shake, ‘We’ve stopped, and I’m going to see where we are.’ A group of men are standing by the rail, ‘Excuse me where are we?’ They look at me blankly, and then one, younger than the rest says,

     ‘To jest
Malta
.’

     ‘
Malta
, wow, where are you from?’

     ‘I----come---Poland
.’ another of the group joins us
,

     ‘My friend, his English not too good, we are Polish, we are going to Tasmania to work on new hydro electric station, where are you going to?’

      ‘I’m g
o
ing
to
Melbourne
, to get a new Mum and Dad.’ I can see that he hasn’t understood me but it doesn’t matter.

      We stayed anchored off
Malta
for about twelve hours, during that time several boats, one quite large, came alongside. As
it starts to get dark those who
were allowed ashore return to the ship, the engines start their thump, thump, thump, with a clatter of chains, shouts from the crew and a blast from our horn we start to move forward.

     The movement of the ship is so smooth now you wouldn’t know we are moving. The three cabins that Chalky is looking after are always quiet; he seems to do his job without any fuss. He reason
s
with you when he wants something done and, if you don’t agree, he has a way of telling you why you should, without shouting, a
nd you find yourself doing it.
I really like him and I think he also likes Christine, because they always seem to be together.

    Further along the ship the escorts can be heard, shouting at the boys they look after, but, having said that, they are very good with the yo
ung ones. I have often seen one
in particular, sitting on the deck,
beside a boy of about six years old, he usually has his arm around him, talking quietly, as though to comfort him,
I wonder is he being like Flynn or like my dad, when I was younger; will I always be suspicious of adults in this way?

     Chalky says that two are monks, Christian brothers he called them, but I don’t know which two as they wear ordinary clothes. I thought monks wore habits, tied up by rope just
like the monk in The Talisman, but maybe that was during the crusades.

     When
Rachel
is not helping
Christine
, and I’m not helping Chalky, we just sit at the front of the ship, on a little seat beside a ventilator that forces fresh air down into the ship. We just sit and talk about our past and our future we know that both, of us are going to
Melbourne
but will we be living near each other. Neither of us knows how big
Melbourne
is, it could be as big as
London
, we don’t know but whatever, we will definitely keep in touch.

     Once again I wake to find the ship has stopped, looking out of our porthole I can see we are in a harbour, the sun is shining, and there are many little boats alongside. Because our cabin is just above water level, I find myself looking into the face of a black man, he is wearing a white hat that doesn’t have a brim, just some blue embroidery around it, I am so surprised
to see him there, startled,
I jump back with a shout. ‘What’s wrong
Phil
?’

     ‘There’s a man outside our window’

     Billy and I rush up onto
‘
A
’
deck only to be stopped by a soldier with a black face. On his head is a little, red round hat with a tassel hanging down from the top,
on his shoulder he is carrying a rifle, he takes one look at us and steps aside so we can pass. Several passengers are leaning over the rail, shouting to the men in boats below,
which are, in fact, floating shops, some large, some small, but all seem to carry all the merchandise under the sun:
bags, baskets, watches, table cloths, sheep skins, all sorts of things. One man in a boat is shouting, ‘
Mr.
Churchill
, how much you geeeve?’ A
nother is holding up a bag shouting, ‘Meeeester, you want very good bag, very cheap?’ Everywhere they are calling some have thrown a string up to the deck, the items
for sale are placed in a basket that is attached to the string by the men in the boats, the purchasers are pulling the article up onto the ship to have a good look at it, shouting down their offer. The boatman, naturally, is shouting back what he wants, and so the bargaining continues until both agree.
Billy
and I don’t want to buy anything; we don’t have the money, even if we wanted to. A roaring trade is going on and most of the passengers are b
uying something. There are at least twenty
Egyptian soldiers patrolling the decks, I’m not sure why they are here, perhaps to prevent the boatmen from getting on board,
or maybe to arrest people who
don’t pay their money to the boatman, whatever it is they don’t look very happy.