Ghost Messages (10 page)

He laughed. “Yes it is, right after first dogwatch, which is when you should be having your supper, and before evening watch when you should be sleeping. It’s a good thing you aren’t a real cabin boy, O’Connor. You’d miss your meals!” He was still chuckling as he strode off down the deck.

Ailish went to the sheep enclosure and checked the stable for Dimples, which is what she’d named the fat ewe that was her favourite of the entire menagerie. The ewe baa’d hello, flicking a stubby tail. She’d grown fond of the rotund ruminant and had been sneaking her extra rations.

Once, Dimples had filched two of Henry’s wondrous biscuits from Ailish’s lunch and immediately loved the delicacy, especially with a spoon of molasses drizzled on top. The ewe was always nuzzling Ailish for the sweet treat, but it was hard to come by as she had to beg it from the kitchen. Henry said she could have one or two buns and a dollop of molasses as it would all end up in the same place anyway.

As Ailish let the ewe lick the last morsel from her palm, she looked around. The breeze had stiffened and white caps were forming on the rolling ocean swells.

She saw Dalton near the stern, wielding a massive wrench, almost as long as her, as easily as he would a flyswatter. The sharp edge of the wrench glinted in the bruised light as Dalton manipulated one of the many wheels in the piece of machinery. He was totally engrossed, seeming oblivious to everything but his task.

Ailish decided now was her chance. If she was caught, she’d say she was taking the eggs to the galley and got lost. She sidled out of the sheep pen and ran toward the hatch that led belowdecks, slipping the basket over her arm and grabbing the map out of the pocket in her breeches as she went. Hurrying as fast as she could, she made her way to the crew’s quarters and hopefully, Dalton’s lair.

She checked the map, then the numbers of the cabins as
she passed each one, 302, 303, there it was, 304! Then she
spied something she hadn’t thought about. A keyhole… and where there was a keyhole, there had to be a key. She turned
the handle but the door was securely bolted.

“Bilge rats!” she cursed.

“I thought you didn’t like the little rodents?”

Ailish whirled around. “Davy!” She clutched a hand to her breast, trying to steady her pounding heart. “You may as well shoot me as scare me to death! What are you doing here?”

“Charlie and me are knocking off for the day and I was on my way to the cargo hold when I caught sight of you and thought I’d see how the search was coming along.”

She blew out a puff of air that sent her ragged hair flying back from her forehead. “I am glad to see you, but you could have warned me the blasted cabin would be locked!”

“I thought you’d figure it out for yourself. That Jack tar is a thief – he thinks like a thief and would worry there were others like him about. He probably sleeps with one eye open.”

“That still doesn’t help me to get in. Do you know where I can get a key?”

“Maybe in the purser’s office, but the master keys would be…”

Ailish finished the sentence for him. “…locked up!”

A thought flashed into her brain. “Locked doors are such a nuisance…” she said absently, glancing around and then a wide smile blossomed on her face. “But I’m too close to be defeated now.”

Setting the egg basket on the floor, she hurried to a toolbox that was tucked beneath the stairs. Rummaging inside, she was rewarded with exactly what she needed: a piece of thin wire. “Perfect!” she breathed as she returned to Dalton’s door.

Davy frowned. “What’s that for?”

“Some months ago, me and my da met a magician, Manfred the Magnificent, travelling to the same fair we were bound for. Da struck up a friendship and after a day of performing for the crowds, we’d all sit around a turf fire and the conjurer would show me tricks, one of them being how to open a locked box with a simple magic spell… and a convenient piece of wire.”

Davy nodded his head appreciatively, and Ailish set to work.

Wiggling the wire in the keyhole as she’d been taught, she mumbled the magic spell for extra luck and was rewarded when the lock clicked open. With a fast check to make sure no one was about, Ailish turned the knob.

“We’re in!” she chirped gleefully, but at that moment, another cabin door at the end of the corridor rattled.

“Get inside quick!” Davy ordered hastily. “I’ll do a little bit of magic of my own and then meet you later!”

Ailish scooped the egg basket before ducking into Dalton’s room, then closed and locked the door behind her. As she did so, the light in the passageway went out. Without the lights, it was as black as a tomb down here.

She heard a sailor loudly cursing the darkness, then a thin strip of light reappeared under the door once more. Was this Davy’s “little bit of magic”? Ailish thought it most impressive. Mr. Jones was a luminary genius if he could manipulate the gaslights with such ease.

She placed her egg basket on top of the chiffonier and turned up the interior lamp fastened to the cabin wall. Dalton’s quarters smelled of mouldy socks, rotting food and, she wrinkled her nose, a long-unwashed sweaty body. As she searched, she took extra pains to put everything back exactly as she’d found it. There was no sense in letting the villain know she’d been there.

She looked in drawers and under the mattress, no jewel-encrusted golden horse. She checked inside Dalton’s duffle bag and inspected his sea locker, still nothing. The only place left in the sparsely furnished cabin was the closet.

Pulling the double doors open, she found the closet stuffed to overflowing with shirts and pants, along with a couple of coats and even a fancy bowler hat which sat proudly on the top shelf. Cluttering the floor were a pair of tall rubber Wellington boots for wet weather and three pairs of shoes. Who on earth owned
three
pairs of shoes?

She turned the shoes upside down and shook them, then reached inside the Wellingtons, which was disgusting, but the precious horse was not to be found.

A noise in the corridor made her stop. Ailish could hear voices talking loudly and then the unthinkable – the sound of a key in the lock.

Dalton was at the door!

Panic! What should she do? Where could she hide? She ran to the lamp and extinguished it, then leapt into the closet, pulling the doors shut behind her. Squeezing as far back into the corner as possible, she waited. There were louvers in the doors and she was able to peek out and see her nemesis as he stomped into the room.

“We’re in for a blow and that’s for sure, Jimmy. Let me get my foul weather gear.” He called to a crewman in the hallway.

He was here for his raincoat and boots! Ailish looked down at the Wellingtons at her feet and felt around for the oilskin coat. She pushed the boots to the front of the closet and quietly slid the coat near the centre of the closet opening, hoping that he was in a hurry and wouldn’t rummage around for anything else.

She watched breathlessly as he moved toward the closet. It was then that her eye fell on the chiffonier. Sitting proudly on top of the dresser was her basket of eggs!

If he saw them, she would never get out of here alive.

Ailish shrank back against the wall as the door was yanked open.

“Get a move on, Rufus. I’m due topside!” An impatient voice shouted from the passageway.

Dalton grabbed the boots and slid the oilskins from their wooden hanger. “Yeah, yeah, hold your horses,” he snarled back. “It’s as cold as an icehouse tonight and I can’t find my blasted sweater.”

Ailish felt the scratchy wool against her cheek. She was smack up against the very garment he was searching for! She dared not breathe. As stealthily as possible, she nudged the sweater toward his big, groping fist.

“Got it!” he called, yanking it out of the closet and slamming the door.

Ailish peered through the slats praying he didn’t spot the egg basket. The light from the hall lamps cast a wan illumination into the room. Dalton had not bothered to light the gas lamp on the wall, which was good as to do that, he would have to push the egg basket out of the way.

She watched as he hastily pulled on the sweater and boots, then dragged the jacket over everything and hurried out of the cabin.

Sighing with relief, Ailish edged out of the closet. Her stomach was tight as a French corset. Her hands trembled as she pushed the louvered door closed behind her and her head felt odd from holding her breath. That had been too close and it had all been for nothing. She still didn’t have the wonderful horse.

10

Cabin Boy Overboard

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Before delivering the eggs, Ailish took a detour
to the hold to tell Davy about the dismal outcome of their latest adventure and also let him know about the meeting with Paddy later. In her excitement at breaking into Dalton’s cabin she’d forgotten, but when she arrived in the hold, he was nowhere around. Disappointed, she scribbled a note and left it on their favourite packing case.

With a sigh, she decided she’d better report in to Dalton or he’d wonder where she’d been all this time and start questioning her. She dropped the eggs by the galley and then moved on to the hatchway leading topside, but when she pushed it open, she gasped.

In the short time she’d been below, the world had darkened into a nightmare of thunder and water. A black pall extinguished any light the setting sun may have shared and the sea was now filled with towering cliffs of boiling grey waves.

Icy rain slashed her with razor sharp daggers, instantly soaking her thin clothes and if she hadn’t been holding onto the hatch, the unexpected blast of wind would have blown her down. Within seconds, her hair dripped and her body felt like a giant icicle. She wished Davy had a sailors’ pea coat in that locker of his as she could surely use it now.

A violent shiver wracked Ailish as she surveyed the ship. Everywhere, shadowy figures of men ran to secure stray items the wind had stolen and tossed around with careless abandon. This was no place for her.

She was about to turn and head back to her stateroom to ride out the storm when she caught a glimpse of ghostly white movement at the stern of the ship. Wiping the rain from her eyes, Ailish looked more closely and was surprised to see it was Dimples. The foolish animal was wandering loose on the deck! In this gale, she’d be washed overboard and no one would notice.

Ailish immediately sprang into action, struggling against the fierce wind and rain as she groped her way toward the wayward ewe. The deck had become slick and she had trouble finding her footing. She flinched as a bright bolt of lightning sliced through the sky telling her the storm was far from abating.

“Dimples!” she called. “Come here, you silly sheep!” It was then that Ailish noticed something very odd indeed.

Dimples had lost weight.

In fact, she was positively skinny!

Then Ailish saw the small bundle curled up on the deck. It was a lamb, a wee, newborn lamb. No wonder Dimples had been so fat. She’d had a baby and must have tried to get as far away from the rest of the flock as was possible on a ship.

Ailish wrapped her arms around the soaking sheep. “Dimples, my girl, your timing is terrible.”

Dimples looked up at her with big brown eyes and made a chuckling sound deep in her throat. Her tone sounded a tiny bit smug and a lot unrepentant.

Carefully, Ailish scooped up the tiny lamb in her arms as she tried to reassure both mother and baby. “Come on you two. We’re going back to the pen. You’ll be warm and safe in the stable.”

As she turned to struggle back down the deck, something out of place caught her eye. She squinted to clear her vision.

Lying on top of the automatic release mechanism was the huge wrench she’d seen Dalton wielding earlier. It was precariously close to the edge of the housing. If the movement of the ship caused it to slip, the wrench would fall into the machine smashing the complicated gears and wheels and releasing the cable to free fall into the sea!

Ailish hurried to the stable and tucked the lamb safely into a warm dry corner, laying it on the straw, where Dimples contentedly nuzzled her newborn.

The wind was a howling demon as she searched the deck for someone strong enough to lift the tool. She caught sight of Dalton’s hulking form, swathed in his foul weather gear, high above on the catwalk that spanned the wide deck.

Not her first choice, but there was no time to find another deckhand. Ailish called out to him. Her words were carried away with the shrieking wind. Scrambling closer, she called again; still it was no good. The clang and bang of the cable machines as they laboured was the only noise loud enough to be heard over the roar of the storm.

With trepidation, she started up the rain-slicked ladder that led to the treacherous catwalk. The force of the wind buffeted her and only by grabbing the metal railing with both hands and pulling herself up rung by rung was she able to climb. Once at the top, the tempest ripped at her mercilessly.

Ailish dragged herself forward. “Mr. Dalton! Mr. Dalton! You’ve got to come with me!” She grabbed his arm to get his attention. “You left a large tool on the release mechanism and it’s going to fall in!”

He turned on her, furious. “I did no such thing! Loose talk like that will get you killed. Now, get off me, you poor excuse for a powder monkey, or I’ll flay you alive.” With a mighty swing of his arm, he lifted Ailish off her feet and sent her flying, as easily as one would flick away a pesky gnat.