Tide of Fortune (16 page)

‘Your father?’

‘He’s very anxious.’

‘I think you should go topside. You’ve been down here long enough.’

‘But –’

‘Go on,’ he urged. ‘Enjoy the fresh air. There are matters I need to settle with your father.’ He passed her and she heard the saloon door click firmly shut.

‘You all right?’ Maggot frowned as she stepped over the coaming.

Ignoring his question she asked, ‘Do you have any more
kif
?’

His frown deepened. ‘Why you want that?’

‘It’s not for me,’ she explained. ‘My father … He was so afraid of being re-captured. It made him – He’s not rational. What worries me is that in his present state he could so easily say or do something that will offend the governor or, indeed, anyone whose goodwill we may need. If that were to happen …’ She clasped her arms across her body, not daring even to complete the thought, let alone voice her dread.

Maggot nodded. ‘You no worry. I go see.’

A few minutes later, Toy brought her a cup of tea. ‘I’ll give you a call when dinner’s ready, miss.’

Interpreting that as a reminder from Nick to stay on deck, she nodded. ‘Thank you.’

When Billy came to call her, and she returned to the saloon, her father was sitting where she had left him. But now he was clean-shaven and though his hands still trembled he was visibly calmer. He did not look up or speak. His gaze remained fixed on his plate as he ate slowly and with effort.

She was halfway through her meal when Nick joined them. Though she was delighted that he had come, her embarrassment at her father’s earlier outbursts was being overtaken by a far deeper fear. For even though it seemed that she and Nick had tentatively begun to rebuild their friendship, what future could it have?

Nick had never made any secret of his ambition to one day command a packet-ship as owner-skipper. Since boyhood his life had been one of hard work and danger as he pursued his dream. He had served his apprenticeship, learnt his trade, and gained the necessary qualifications. He had proved himself and his ability beyond doubt. Why then would he, who had so much to offer and deserved so much in return, ally himself to such a family as hers?

She bent her head, pretending to chew. But in reality it was not the food but the solid lump of grief in her throat that she found hard to swallow.

Addressing himself to his piled plate and ignoring her father, Nick related an amusing incident that had occurred in Jamaica, only occasionally glancing in her direction. When he finished the story she looked at him. Wanting to convey her gratitude for the way he had dealt with a situation that was beyond her, unable to speak out because of her father’s presence, she smiled instead, hoping he would understand. His gaze held hers and for an instant she couldn’t breathe.

It was as if those long, terrible weeks apart had never happened. But because they had, and because she knew now that he too had suffered, she was still experiencing ripples of hopelessness and yearning long after he had returned to the deck.

Three hours later, she stood at the port quarter, gazing at the walled city of Tangier lying like a tilted cup between two hills. Her father stood further forward, deliberately apart, as he had been since the packet left Falmouth,

Behind her she heard Nick’s voice. A moment later he was at her side.

‘As Maggot grew up here, he’s the best man to bring us in.’

Amid whitewashed houses with flat roofs piled in terraces against the hillside like a child’s toy bricks were several European-style buildings. Two looked like churches, another like a large and rather grand house.

But it was to the castle on the right-hand side that Kerenza’s gaze was drawn. Sprawling over the top of the hill, its brooding presence dominated the town.

She leant toward Nick, her voice low. ‘Is that –?’

He nodded. ‘The governor’s palace.’

Unease slid like a drop of icy water down her spine. She told herself not to be foolish. The worst was over. They had arrived safely. Once the formalities had been completed and the money handed over, her mother and sister would be released and
Kestrel
would return to Falmouth. Would it really be that easy? If it were, what then?

Kerenza clasped her upper arms, trying to rub away the gooseflesh that tightened her skin. As the ship sailed shoreward she saw to the right of the crescent-shaped beach a long stretch of huge, jumbled stones running in a straight line out into the bay. Rollers driven by the stiff breeze broke over it, tossing up clouds of spray as they crashed in a welter of white foam.

‘What’s that?’

To her surprise, it was her father who answered. ‘What’s left of a massive mole the British built as a breakwater and jetty when they occupied the city. They blew it up when they left.’

Wanting to ask
why
, Kerenza bit her tongue. She knew little about politics and no doubt there were very good reasons. But to deliberately destroy something that must have cost huge amounts of money and years of hard work to build seemed to her a terrible waste.

As Maggot guided the packet into the bay the two big gaff sails were dropped and
Kestrel
glided toward an anchorage at the more sheltered eastern end of the town. Now they were closer, Kerenza could see that the city walls lay mostly in ruins, though several towers, round and square, still stood. Small houses had been built along the tumbled remains of wall above the anchorage. Gardens, orchards, and fields spread over the low hills beyond. There were no guns on the wall facing the sea. But on the northern edge of the cliff below the castle she saw a few canon mounted on the remains of a fort.

The twin castles of Pendennis and St Mawes guarding the entrance to the Carrick Roads and Falmouth harbour were in far better repair and yet, strangely, seemed less intimidating. She turned to Nick.

‘How do we get in?’

‘You see that wall sloping up from the beach?’ Nick pointed. ‘Behind it there’s a ramp leading up to the Water Gate, the square tower with battlements. That’s the entrance into the town for anyone coming in by sea.’

As the packet turned into the wind and the anchor splashed down, William Vyvyan turned toward Nick and the companionway.

‘When are we going ashore?’

‘In a while. First we have to clear Customs.’ As William tensed, and Kerenza braced herself for another outburst, Nick turned away, making it clear the matter was not open to argument or discussion. Then, speaking for her ears only, he added, ‘Maggot will go and ask his stepmother about your accommodation. But as she doesn’t know he’s alive, seeing him again will be a shock. He’ll be as quick as he can, but – You do understand?’

She nodded. ‘Of course.’

Now they were finally in Tangier she was suddenly very nervous. How it would be when she met her mother and sister again? This would be the first time they had met or spoken in three years.

How should she greet them? Should she simply wait and let them make the first move? What would they say? Would their experiences have made them more aware of the importance of family bonds? Would they be anxious to forget the past and make a fresh start? Would it include her? Did she want it to?

If she were totally honest, she wasn’t sure. She had made a home and a new life at her grandmother’s where she had been welcomed and appreciated. Despite her grandmother’s undemonstrative manner, Kerenza had, for the first time in her life, known herself loved unconditionally. But even that soothing balm had not entirely healed her wounded self-esteem. If her own mother and sister did not love her, logic dictated it must be because she was unlovable. Yet if her grandmother loved her, and Nick, then surely – here she faltered.

She had
thought
Nick loved her. But had he? Did he? Was she seeing only what she wanted to see? Or was it indeed real and true and, having been tested by misunderstanding, strong enough now to withstand whatever trouble the future might hold? Half of her wanted so much for it to be so. The other half – the wary half that remembered all too clearly the wrenching anguish of love offered and rejected – wasn’t at all sure.

As for her mother and sister, the child she had once been still yearned for their love and acceptance. But she was no longer a child. She would wait; allow them to make the first move.

The sun was dipping below the hills behind the city when Nick and Maggot returned. During their absence, realising how inconvenient it would be to take a heavy trunk ashore, Kerenza had packed a bag instead. She used the one Judith had sent, putting in essentials for a couple of days, plus a roll of dirty laundry in the hope Maggot’s stepmother would have or know of a washerwoman.

Returning to the deck where her father waited, she suggested he did the same. But, impatient and clearly not interested, he waved her away before she finished speaking. So she asked Broad to pack what he thought her father might need.

Now, at last, after a row between her father and Nick over the ransom money – her father had wanted to bring it with them; Nick believed it was safer to leave it aboard in the strongbox overnight – they were in the cutter heading shoreward. Her father was in the stern next to Maggot, who had the tiller. Nick was beside her, her bag between his feet.

Shivery, and with an uncomfortable tightness at the base of her skull, Kerenza drew the folds of her cloak closer.

‘Are you cold?’ he asked softly.

She shook her head, forcing a smile. ‘No, I’m fine.’ It wasn’t true. She felt exhausted. It had been a stressful day. And it wasn’t over yet.

‘When we land,’ her father announced, aggressive in his determination, ‘we must go directly to the governor’s palace.’

Nick looked over his shoulder. Kerenza closed her eyes. But it was Maggot who responded.

‘No.’ It was blunt and final. ‘Is no good tonight.’

‘Why not?’ William demanded. ‘Dammit, I caught the first available ship, and I’ve brought the money. He’ll want to see me.’

‘No, he won’t,’ Nick said.

‘Not tonight,’ Maggot added.

‘
Why
?’

‘Because there are formalities to be observed,’ Nick said. ‘Ignoring them will cause offence. That won’t help your cause one bit. It’s the governor who has the power here, not you, not us.’

‘But I’ve brought the money,’ William repeated desperately. ‘He said that as soon as I got back with it my wife and daughter could leave.’

‘Then we must hope he’s a man of his word, and that you will soon be reunited. In the meantime –’ Nick raised his voice as William opened his mouth to argue ‘– our first call must be on the British consul. Your request to see the governor will have to be made through him. He will be able to advise us on the best approach.’

Heading for the beach, the cutter passed an old wharf. Kerenza saw two galleys laid up inside it, with sheds and storehouses behind. Breathing in the smells of seaweed, rope, fish, tar, and paint she was vividly reminded of Flushing. She wished she was back there, that this was all over. Even as the thought formed she found herself fearful of what return would mean. She hadn’t wanted to come. But were it not for this voyage, she and Nick would not be in the process of repairing their rift and regaining each other’s trust.

The cutter’s keel grated on the bottom and, by the time Nick had helped her ashore, Maggot and her father were already on their way up toward the Water Gate. Two of the oarsmen pushed the cutter off.

‘It’s better that they return to the ship,’ Nick said. ‘They’ll come back for me later. Maggot will stay overnight at the house with you and your father. I’ll join you in the morning to accompany you to the Palace.’

‘Thank you,’ she said gratefully.

The archway in the tower was shadowed, and beneath the vaulted stone the wind blew strongly, tugging Kerenza’s cloak. She shivered. Then they were inside the town, following Maggot and her father. Kerenza’s eyes widened at the tall grandeur of a big church. A little further on, they entered a busy marketplace.

The noise was deafening. as vendors urged people to buy, customers haggled, women gossiped, children squealed with laughter, men argued, beggars pleaded, all at the tops of their voices in languages that sounded to Kerenza as though they were gargling.

She glimpsed small wooden booths, pyramids of melons and oranges and other fruits she did not recognise. A brightly-clad water seller carrying an ornate jug and silver cup wandered by, ringing a small bell.

One table still displayed a few round, flat loaves, fresh and fragrant, another held clay pots. The smells of roast meat, spices, smoking charcoal, rotting vegetables, hot oil, and dust burned in her nose.

Her face grew hot with self-consciousness and she was glad of Nick’s silent presence beside her as she intercepted sidelong glances and angry glares, frowns of curiosity and contempt. Most of the women were veiled. But those who were not covered the lower half of their faces with one end of their headscarf, still watching her as they turned to each other, and she knew she was being discussed.

Groups of turbaned Arabs swathed in white, with seamed faces the colour of teak and long beards sat in the shadows, sipping mint tea from small glasses.

Kerenza breathed a sigh of relief as they left the marketplace and followed Maggot into a narrow dirt street that climbed steeply. Sloe-eyed, bare-legged Arab boys peered at them from alleys. A girl ducked shyly into the low, dark doorway of a flat-roofed house. They crossed another street, and another. Then Maggot stopped in front of a larger house with deep-set arched windows and tall double doors of dark wood, and turned to Nick.

‘Here is consul’s house.’ He knocked.

A few moments later, one of the doors was opened and they were asked their business. William started forward, but Maggot held him back.

‘My name is Nicholas Penrose, commanding the packet-ship
Kestrel
. One of my passengers is Mr William Vyvyan, whose wife and daughter are currently guests of the governor. We need to see the consul.’

The door closed.

‘What –?’ William began angrily. But Maggot raised a finger to his lips.

‘You wait. Is all right.’

‘No, it damn well isn’t all right!’ William exploded.