Then there were Gareth and Claire Glenning. Claire was a gentle, almost timid woman in her early forties, I imagined, and her husband was a few years older, very courtly and gallant and over-anxious for his wife’s comfort. The other party consisted of an elderly couple, Mr. and Mrs. Greenall, who were going out to Australia to visit a married daughter and her family, and with them traveled Mrs. Greenall’s sister, Miss Ella Rundle, a rather prim woman who was constantly finding fault with everything.

During the first days or so at sea these people were just figures to me, but it was not long before they began to develop definite personalities. Chantel and I used to discuss them. I would go into her cabin, when Monique was not in the next one, and we would invent life stories for them which the more outrageous they were the more they amused us. I was beginning to get as lighthearted as Chantel. I told her I was taking over her philosophy of life.

A great deal of my time was devoted to Edward. I was obsessed by the fear that he might fall overboard and I would not let him out of my sight during those first days. To make matters more difficult, in the beginning of their acquaintance he and Johnny took a dislike to each other, until, realizing that there was no one else with whom they could play, there was at first an armed neutrality then a truce followed by a reluctant acceptance of each other which was to flower into friendship. But during those early days the sights and scenes of the ship were so new that it was difficult to absorb them and it was some time before I could accept them as normal.

I took breakfast, luncheon and tea with Edward, and Johnny and Mrs. Blakey joined us at table. Mrs. Blakey, although the sister of Mrs. Malloy, was treated as a poor relation. She told me that dear Vivian, her sister, had paid her passage and was going to give her a home in the new world. She wanted to show her gratitude by doing all she could. It seemed to me that she did this by acting as nursery governess to Johnny Malloy.

I learned quite a lot of her life history. The runaway match with the young actor of whom her family did not approve, and who, at the time of their marriage, had already been on the point of going into a decline; his death and destitution, the forgiveness and return into the family. Beneficent Vivian would take her to Australia, give her a new start and for that she would be expected to show a little gratitude.

Poor Lucy Blakey, I was sorry for her. I knew what it meant to have been helped when in need, to be expected to pay by service. Surely the most exorbitant of costs.

We became quite friendly over our meals or when we walked the decks with our charges and sat watching them while they played quoits and deck tennis.

In the evenings the children had supper and went to bed at half-past seven; and for dinner, which took place at eight o’clock, Mrs. Blakey and I joined the rest of the company. There was a place for me at the Purser’s table; Mrs. Blakey sat at the First Officer’s.

The Purser’s table was at one end of the dining salon, the Captain’s table at the other, so I did catch a glimpse of Redvers now and then, though he did not appear in the dining salon every evening. Sometimes he took his dinner in his own quarters but during our first three evenings I only saw him once. He looked handsome in his uniform, which made his blond hair look more fair than ever.

At his table were Monique, Claire and Gareth Glenning, and Mr. and Mrs. Greenall.

Chantel was at the Ship’s Doctor’s table with Rex. I quickly realized that even though the Captain was on the ship I should very likely see little of him, and it dawned on me then that I was not the one in danger so much as Chantel. I wondered what her true feelings for Rex were and whether beneath her air of casual pleasure she was hurt and bewildered. Rex paid attention to her in his way — and it was a different way from that of the Captain. More serious, one might say, for Rex gave me the impression that he was not the man to be lightly flirtatious.

I had started to think a great deal about Rex. I had the impression that he was a man who showed little of his feelings to the world. It was only occasionally that I caught the look in his eyes when he glanced at Chantel; it was almost fierce, possessive. But how could this be when he was, as we knew full well, on his way to Australia to renew his courtship — if it had ever begun — of Miss Derringham?

And Chantel? I could not understand her either. I had often seen her in animated conversation with Rex and she seemed at such times to sparkle and be even more gay than usual. And yet she never seemed in the least perturbed when Miss Derringham’s name was mentioned.

I said to her: “Chantel, I should love to see your journal again. It would be interesting to compare our views of ship life.”

She laughed. “I don’t keep it now … as I did.”

“Do you never write in it?”

“Never. Well, hardly ever.”

“Why not?”

“Because life is so exciting.”

“But isn’t that a reason why you should capture it, write it down, so that in the future you can live it all again?”

“Dear Anna,” she said, “I think I wrote all that when I was at the Castle for you. I wanted you to share in it all, and that was the only way. Now it’s not necessary. You’re here. You’re living it first hand. You don’t need my journal.”

We were sitting in her cabin, I on the armchair, she stretched out on her bed.

“I wonder,” I said, “what will be the end of it.”

“Now that depends on ourselves.”

“As you’ve remarked before.”

“The fault, as somebody said, is not in our stars but in ourselves.”

“Shakespeare.”

“Trust you to know. But it’s true. Besides the element of doubt makes it all so fascinating, doesn’t it? If you knew exactly what was going to happen what would be the point of living it?”

“How is … Mrs. Stretton?” I asked.

Chantel shrugged her shoulders. “She won’t make old bones,” she said.

I shivered.

“Why, what’s the matter?” she asked.

“It’s your way of expressing it.”

“Very apt you must admit, very much to the point. Her lungs are badly affected.”

“Perhaps her native air …”

Chantel shrugged her shoulders. “I was talking to Dr. Gregory this afternoon.” (He was the ship’s doctor, a tall pale young man already attracted by Chantel I had noticed on more than one occasion.) “He said that he thought the disease had too big a hold on her. Even the balmy airs of Coralle may not be of any use now.”

“Does the Captain know?”

“You can bet the Captain knows. Perhaps that’s why he behaves in such a jaunty way.”

“Chantel!”

“Anna! But we mustn’t be hypocritical, must we? The gallant Captain must be fully aware that he made a bad mistake, the sort that very often has to be paid for during a whole lifetime. It looks as though the payment demanded may not be of such long duration.”

“Chantel, I wish …”

“That I would not be flippant about death. Why not? It helps you not to be afraid of it, for yourself or for other people. Don’t forget I’m on better acquaintance with that grim creature than most. I meet him frequently in my profession. It makes me feel less respectful toward him. And don’t grieve for the Captain. Who knows, there might be what is called a happy release.”

I stood up. I did not want to sit in Chantel’s cabin discussing the death of his wife.

She jumped off the bed and slipped her arm through mine.

“I’m always flippant when I’m most serious. You should know that, Anna. But don’t worry about my patient. You can be sure I shall give her the very best attention. And if the inevitable should happen …”

Her face was close to mine; how her green eyes glittered.

And I thought: She is thinking that if she died the Captain would be free … free for me.

How fond I was of her. But I wanted to explain I could not wish for the death of anyone whatever the advantages were to me.

12

Our first port of call was Gibraltar; I awoke one morning, looked through my porthole and there it was — the great rock rising high out of the water.

I had passed by here before. Years and years ago it seemed, as a child, a little older than Edward; and I remembered how excited I had felt, and how safe because my parents were in the next cabin. I often wondered what Edward felt for his mother; I knew that he considered his father to be some sort of god. Was that because he was a captain and sailed ships round the world, or because of the man himself?

I thought of Chantel’s verdict on Monique; and I wondered about the future, and of Chantel herself — with that aura of fascination which surrounded her. It was not only Rex and the ship’s doctor who were attracted by her; I had seen the glances that came her way. It was not only her beauty — and undoubtedly she had that — it was her vitality, a certain passion within herself; I felt that life with her would always be exciting. I suppose that was how others felt and wanted to share it.

We should be docked for a few hours at Gibraltar and there would be an opportunity to take a trip ashore. Chantel had said that she would have liked to make up a party — say myself and the ship’s doctor and perhaps the First Officer. The Glennings were going off to visit friends ashore. And who wanted to be with the really rather decrepit Mr. and Mrs. Greenall — and even less did one desire the company of Miss Rundle!

I pointed out that I was here to look after Edward and he would wish to go ashore so I must go with him; and as Mrs. Blakey would be taking Johnny and the two boys wanted to go together I should go with her and Mrs. Malloy.

Chantel grimaced. “What a shame! Poor Anna!” she said lightly.

We had hired a carriage with a driver who would show us the sights. The boys were bouncing on their seats with excitement and poor Lucy Blakey could not restrain Johnny one bit — or perhaps she feared to in the presence of Mrs. Malloy. I felt no such restrictions. I told Johnny to sit still and to the amazement of his mother and aunt he obeyed me; I thought it was an excellent moment to give them a little combined geography and history lesson. Chantel would have laughed at me if she had been there. How I wished she had been.

It was a beautiful day and the sunshine seemed brilliant after the misty dampness of Langmouth.

“It has belonged to us since 1704,” I told Edward.

“To the Creditons?” he asked.

Mrs. Malloy and Mrs. Blakey joined in my laughter. “No, Edward, to Britain.”

Edward was a little puzzled; I was sure he believed that his formidable grandmother owned Britain.

“It is called Gibraltar,” I went on, “after an Arab called Gebel Tarik who came here long, long ago.”

“Before we did?” asked Johnny.

“Long before we did and he built a castle for himself and he gave the place its name. You see Gebel Tarik became Gibraltar. If you say it quickly you’ll see.”

The boys started shouting together: “Gebel Tarik. Gibraltaric … Gibraltar.”

“You will see the castle soon,” I told them and that silenced them, but when they saw the old Moorish Castle they pointed excitedly to it shouting “Gebel Tarik”; and I said to Mrs. Blakey: “That is something they will remember forever.”

“It’s an excellent way of teaching children,” said Mrs. Malloy graciously. I think she was a little piqued not to have been invited to join one of the other parties and I was sure she was thinking that the two nursery governesses should have been left to manage the children on their own. Poor Lucy Blakey! If one had to be an underling it was so much better to be so outside one’s own family. How much more independent I was now than when I was with Aunt Charlotte.

The highlight of our little trip was of course the sight of the apes. Several carriages had made the climb to the upper part of the Rock and were pulled up there. The Greenalls were there with Miss Rundle and they called a greeting.

We had difficulty in keeping the boys away from the apes, who were very spry and mischievous. Our driver had warned us not to get too near or they might steal our gloves or even our hats. It was a great pleasure to see the delight of the two boys; they chuckled and whispered together and I was a little afraid that one might urge the other on to some recklessness.

And then as we stood there watching the antics of the little creatures one of them came running down from higher up the slope with a green scarf in its mouth. There had been a shout of laughter and looking back whence he had come I saw Chantel with Rex. They were standing close together; his arm was through hers; they were laughing and I realized of course that it was her scarf which had been snatched.