Dive in the Sun (27 page)

He sighed and climbed up to the deck. The sun hit him across the neck and seemed to sap the last energy from his body. He noticed that the group of assorted figures gathered around the poop were silent and watchful, and no one looked up as he walked aft and leaned heavily against the mainmast.

Curtis was standing apart from the group, his hair almost white in the glare, as he looked over the rail at the dancing wake.

Duncan and Taylor stood together by the hatch, the E.R.A’s wiry body dwarfed by the other man’s shoulders, as he leaned his elbows on the edge of the open door, his face dulled either by sleep or drink.

Curtis looked up, his eyes covering the group of weary figures and resting momentarily on Jervis. He cleared his throat, the sound drawing their attention to his face.

‘You know that the fresh water has gone,’ he began calmly, ‘but you may not be aware of the cause, or,’ he paused, his mouth hardening, ‘the possible consequences.’

The girl moved closer to her father, who stared with passive eyes at the deck, the movement making Curtis turn briefly in her direction.

‘Someone has deliberately opened the cock on the storage tank, while he, or she, was in the hold!’ He waited while a babble of voices broke out on the poop.

Sergeant Dunwoody gestured fiercely with his hand, as if unable to find words. ‘But sir,’ he stammered, ‘oo’d do a thing
like
that? I mean ter say, sir, we’re bitched wivout water!’ He glared with sudden suspicion at those nearest him and lapsed into silence.

Jervis watched the girl from beneath his lashes, conscious both of the meaning of Curtis’s announcement and the sudden look of fear in Carla Zecchi’s eyes. She had gone pale, and he could see her fingers twisting nervously into the back of her skirt. “Or she”, Curtis had said, and Jervis was moved both by anger and pity. He remembered her coming into his prison and risking her life to entice the German sentry to his own death. It must have been her, it was all dropping into place now. He understood what she had meant by her hints about saving her father and getting Curtis to change his plan. No wonder she was unworried by Curtis’s scheme to sail the schooner all the way to the south coast, while he himself had fumed and cursed at Curtis’s hardness. She had known about this all the time; in fact, she probably got the idea from his own concern for the wounded. He forced himself to think and shut his ears to the protesting voices and distorted faces. What did it matter anyway? He had wanted the ship to turn for the coast, and now Curtis would have to alter course. The reason was unimportant. She had saved his life, and nothing else mattered any more.

Curtis held up his hand and the sounds died.

‘Whoever is responsible for this stupid and dangerous act—and it is someone here right this minute—has committed himself and all the rest of us to one course of action only.’ Jervis could see that Curtis was labouring to keep his voice under control. ‘I shall have to turn immediately and try to find a way to the nearest port, where the wounded will be landed and handed over to the authority responsible for that area. Without treatment and proper care, clean dressings and all the rest of it, things were bad enough. Without water, and all that water means to injured men, there is no alternative but to give in.’

Duncan shook himself like a dog, and stared round with disbelief and amazement.

‘Now listen, Ralph!’ He moved his hands threateningly.

‘You’re not goin’ to jag in without findin’ out who did this are you?’

‘Well, what d’you suggest?’ Curtis sounded tired, almost distant.

‘I’ve got ideas, by Christ I have!’ He pointed suddenly at the girl. ‘What about her? What’s she been doin’?’

His eyes were slitted with fury, and Jervis forced himself to look at Carla, his suspicions immediately turned into reality as he saw her wide eyes dark with fear. She opened her mouth as if to speak, and Jervis stepped quietly in front of her.

They would shoot her or something, he thought desperately, the look on Duncan’s face was enough to tell him that nothing Curtis would do or say could prevent it, even if he had wanted to.

He felt strangely calm, and his voice was almost conversational. ‘As a matter of fact,
I
did it!’

The effect of his words was terrifying by its cool impact. Curtis stared down at him, his mouth quivering with shock. The others seemed to fade into indistinct shapes, and Jervis could only see Curtis’s face and the utter disbelief which clouded his eyes, before the shutter dropped and his face became a cold, impersonal mask.

‘Why?’ One word, softly spoken, but as the ship lolled gently in a trough, it was like an axe falling on stone.

‘Because … because it is useless to go on like this.’ Jervis’s elation had gone, he wanted to be free from the others and be left in peace. ‘You wouldn’t alter your mind. So I tried to do what is best for all of us!’

Carla Zecchi sobbed quietly, and Jervis shrugged with sudden impatience. What the hell anyway, they had been dead before. This was just the beginning of reality for them.

He reeled against the wheel, his head dancing with pain as a fist thudded into his cheek.

Duncan caught him by the arm and swung him round, his face twisted with fury.

‘Why you dirty little gutless bastard! We pulled you out of the grave, and now you go and louse on us!’ He raised his fist again. ‘I’ll make sure you don’t do anything else! At least you’re in the right bloody uniform!’

Jervis twisted free, feeling the salt taste of blood on his lips, and ran blindly across the hatch.

He saw Taylor’s body jerk from the rail, and tried to dodge his foot as it shot forward to trip him. He fell heavily on the deck and saw the rough planking with sudden clarity, as he lay panting and waiting for the next blow.

Instead, Curtis’s harsh voice cut across his confused mind. ‘That’s enough, Steve!’ Then as nothing happened, more quietly, ‘Fetch the chart, and bring it on deck.’

Jervis stood up, shaking his head to clear the dizziness from his eyes. Curtis regarded him slowly, with something like pity or shame on his set features.

‘I’m putting you under arrest. I don’t understand what happened to make you act like this, but you were wrong, and stupid!’ Then in a louder voice, ‘Sergeant Dunwoody, take this officer below, and see that a guard is mounted. An armed guard!’

Dunwoody rubbed his mouth, his eye blinking. ‘Yessir. It’ll be a pleasure!’

Jervis stumbled towards the gaping hatch, but darted a glance back at the girl. She was staring at him fixedly, but there was more surprise than relief on her face.

Taylor rubbed his bare arms and followed Jervis with his eyes. ‘I dunno why you bothered to live!’ he said softly.

Below it was quiet and cool, and Jervis was in the girl’s cabin, with the door locked behind him, before he really understood what had happened, or what he had done.

He pressed his head against the smooth planking, and closed his eyes. What would his father think when the story became known? Of how he had sacrificed his comrades because of a girl’s hidden promise. ‘It doesn’t matter!’ He spoke aloud, as if repeating a lesson. ‘This is ridiculous to act like this. I will explain what really happened when it’s all over!’ He flung himself down on the bunk, wretched and stunned, as the full realization crushed in on him like a crowd of screaming maniacs.

Curtis sat on the rail and watched the bowsprit once more. It was curious how the ship had changed its outline now that
the
sun was on a different side. He tried not to look back at the twisting wake, as if he was afraid he might see his hopes and his chance of freedom mocking him from the waves, as the ship swung round towards the invisible shore.

Jervis of all people. It was unthinkable, almost obscene.

Duncan sat hunched under the bulwark, his head resting on his chest. An empty bottle rolled unheeded in the scupper, and occasionally Curtis heard him mutter thickly to himself.

Giulio Zecchi appeared at his side, his small hands deep in his jacket pockets. He waited, like a plump bird, until Curtis turned to face him.

‘A big disappointment for you, Lieutenant. I am sorry.’

Curtis did not answer, but waited listlessly, his gaze on the man’s dark eyes.

‘But it is time we had a talk, I think.’ He squared his shoulders, and rocked forward on his toes.

He knows that he’s soon going to hold the whip hand, Curtis thought, it was amazing how everything had collapsed, and how calmly he was able to view his failure.

‘Well? What have you on your mind?’

The mayor pouted his lower lip. ‘When we reach the coast, what will you do?’

‘Surrender the ship. What else?’

‘I will do what I can for you, Lieutenant.’ His tone was almost gracious. ‘I may be able to help quite considerably where your wounded are concerned. But I am afraid I can do little about you and your three colleagues. You are rather in a different category.’ He smiled thinly. ‘But who knows? Perhaps you will be kept as prisoners.’

Curtis stared at him coldly. ‘Things have certainly changed for you, Signor Zecchi. Now you will be able to return to your fold as a hero, and one who has proved his worth to the Party and to his German friends! Very fortunate for you!’

He smiled. ‘Shall we say that the hasty action of your young officer, for whatever reason he might have had, was an act of grace? It is life, Lieutenant.’ He shrugged. ‘I am afraid you have only yourself to blame, but, nevertheless, I thank you for your treatment of myself and Carla.’ He drew a small
cigar
from his breast pocket and inserted it delicately between his teeth. ‘If only one could always foresee the future!’ His glance fell on Duncan’s still form. He raised an eyebrow. ‘And what of the gallant Australian?’

‘He’ll be all right,’ Curtis answered quietly. ‘You need have no fear.’

The mayor smiled and lit his cigar. ‘I think that fear is now unnecessary for me. It might be unfortunate for the wounded men if anything was to happen to me, eh?’ He walked away, humming to himself.

Curtis clenched his fists and stared wildly at the sun, until he could stand the pain no longer and his eyes were running with tears. Every movement and shipboard noise seemed more pronounced, and even the steady beat of the engine filled him with revulsion. Somehow and somewhere, he had allowed his purpose to be blunted and turned aside by his own over-confidence. He beat a slow tattoo on the rail with his palms, his body shaking with uncontrollable despair. To drive away the fear which had first held him in its grip, he had tried to prove his strength and determination in front of the others, and to justify his actions he had endeavoured to produce an unworkable plan, for which he had neither the training nor the stamina to complete.

For a few moments longer he tortured himself with the weapons of self-pity and frustration, and then tried to bring himself to contemplate the future.

It had been a flimsy enough plan, he knew that, yet with any small remaining spark of luck they might have reached safety, and some of the guilt and remorse would have been lost in the fulfilment of the voyage to the south.

The lookout called shrilly from the masthead, and without enthusiasm or interest, in fact with little feeling of any kind, he lifted the telescope and pointed it in the direction indicated by the man’s arm.

A small coaster pushed her way northward along the lip of the sea, her squat bridge and funnel changing shape as she altered course laboriously on another leg of her zigzag. Still further distant, a mere shaft of silver in the sunlight, her escort
prowled
watchfully, no doubt listening for the unlikely presence of a submarine.

The captain coughed discreetly, and Curtis turned with impatience.

‘Well? What d’you want?’

Curtis expected him to behave much as the mayor had done, and was surprised to see the intense expression in the man’s small eyes.

‘
Signore
, I think I have a part of an idea.’ He darted a quick glance around the poop and sat down beside Curtis on the rail. ‘
Permesso
, but as I said, I think we might find a way out of this.’

Curtis eyed him searchingly. ‘Why, Captain? Why should you want to help me?’

‘Ah well.’ He smiled uncomfortably. ‘It is also to help myself you understand! But we Italians are not a warlike people, you must know that. And I think that my country will not wait to be stamped into the dust before it feels it necessary to’—he spread his hands with eloquent understanding—‘sign an armistice!’

‘Go on.’ Curtis was suddenly quite sure of the man’s eagerness, and felt that he was being as sincere as he knew how.

‘I have sailed this coast for many years,
signore
, and I know many people. For months now there have been rumours about what would happen if your armies land in our country.’ He shrugged. ‘Well, the time is near I think for the dreams to become real, whether some of us like it or not!’ He leaned closer. ‘We do not like the Germans, that you already know. It was very fine in the beginning, when our leaders gave us great things and promised us more. But when the German army came to the south, and from the desert, things changed for all of us. They did not trust us, and made many regulations and laws to hold us down. Of course, the
Fascisti
thought it was wonderful,’ he spat with his usual ease, ‘but the rest of us grew to hate the strutting boots and endless orders. It was like,’ he paused, trying to find the right words, ‘like the barking of dogs! No,
signore
, the Germans will find themselves alone and unwanted!’

Curtis felt his spirits sink even lower. ‘I know all this. It was the only thing that could happen.’

The captain laid a fat finger against his nose and watched Curtis sadly. ‘Patience! I am trying to tell you what I, Fausto Macchia, would do, if I were in your feet!’

Curtis’s strained face melted into a smile in spite of his misery. From the moment he had boarded the schooner this little captain had remained self-contained and yet comical.

‘Very well, Captain. Please continue, although I do not think there is any choice left for me!’