Perry Scrimshaw's Rite of Passage (40 page)

He turned from the railing.

And there, in front of him,
stood Eva. He reached out for the railing again, thinking he was
having a dizzy turn. But she was still there, smiling up at
him.

‘
Are you really
here?’ he reached his hand out to touch her and she took it in her
own.

‘
I am,’ she
took his hand in her own soft hands.

Unable to speak, Perry drew her
into him, hugging her close, feeling the warm beat of her body next
to his own. He nestled into her beautiful yellow hair, still
thinking that this must be a mirage. He pulled his head back, and
felt the warmth of her breath against his cheek.

He shook her head in wonder at
her. ‘How?’ was all he could manage.

She looked embarrassed. ‘I came
looking for you. I saw you at Mrs Drew’s and followed you.’

‘
But the
tickets? How did you…?’

‘
Joel has done
well for himself. You saw our-’ she corrected herself
‘
his
house didn’t
you? I have money. Quite a lot actually.’

He loved
hearing her call it
his
house. ‘Does he know you’re here?’

‘
After he
admitted what he did to you I told him I was going to find you. I’m
so sorry I didn’t listen before. It just didn’t make any sense,’
she gave his arm a squeeze. ‘Then I couldn’t find you anywhere.
I’ve been wandering around all the places I thought you’d be. It
was only when I saw you at Mrs Drew’s café and followed you to the
ticket office that I realised how soon you were
leaving.’

‘
And Joel
didn’t try and stop you?’

‘
Once I’d
bought my tickets, I only had time to race back to the house and
pack a few things. He wasn’t in, so I left him a note on the
kitchen table.’

Perry imagined Joel returning
home, expecting to see Eva and being greeted by this note, ‘I
actually feel a little sorry for him.’

‘
Perry, can you
ever forgive me? I had no idea.’

He hushed her with a finger on
her lips. ‘There is nothing to forgive,’ he removed his finger and
placed his lips to hers and they kissed. Long, soft and warm,
better than ever. Eva tasted of paradise.

He pulled his lips from hers.
‘Eva…did you say tickets? As in more than one?’

She gave him a sheepish grin
and nodded. Worried, he looked around the deck for a familiar face,
but caught none.

‘
Who else is
coming?’

‘
Nobody. I
bought out the other three beds in your cabin. I figured, they
wouldn’t let a woman mix with three men but, a couple, promised to
be married, now it might be acceptable for them to share a cabin to
themselves…’

His heart felt like it might
burst, he brought her into him and hugged her close, kissing her
and squeezing her tight to him.

Perry looked out to the horizon
beyond. Whatever it held - fair winds or foul - they would face it
together.

‘
You know what
this means then Eva?’

‘
What?’

‘
It means those
horrid blue pyjamas are yours.’

‘
Oi,’ she
smacked him on the arm, smiling. ‘They’re my
favourites!’

‘
Did I say how
lovely they were? Very fetching.’

With his hand intertwined in
hers, they strolled together, ambling down the deck towards the
cabin. Beneath their feet, the ship lulled and rose through the
hillocks of waves, urging them forth into the unknown beyond.

Acknowledgements
:

I’d like to
thank Lynn Nicholls for being my editing buddy in the early drafts
of the novel and the West Dean writers who offered support along
the way. Greg Mosse & Lesley Thomson for practical teaching and
insightful editorial. A.Temple Patterson’s ‘
A History of Southampton 1700-1914 Vol. III, Setbacks and
Recoveries 1868-1914’
gave useful insight
into the town conditions, the state of unionism and the events that
led to the town riot of 1890. Thanks to both Jason Kanellis &
George Tebbutt for proof reading and excellent suggestions. Ian
Dodds – for a great job on the artwork for the cover. Thanks to the
team at Completely Novel, and the Beneath The Pier writing group
for encouragement, fun and friendship. My family and friends for
encouragement, help and patience. Thank you too, lovely wife, for
your love, proofing and supportive teas.

A note about prisons:

Southampton’s
Birdshit Prison is an entirely fictional place. The National
Penitentiary in Buenos Aires did exist however, with spoke like
workshops spanning from a Bentham-esque central building. In
keeping with the developing Victorian thinking on prisons, the
authorities introduced regimes of work for the prisoners within the
prison’s workshops, one of which was the printing press for the
national paper. At least in the beginning, prisoners had their own
cells, each adorned with instructions for its upkeep and a rules
list. Guards imposed strict silence for the prisoners to reflect on
their misdeeds though within the book I’ve hypothesised that the
prisoners regularly found ways around this to converse with one
another. The mentioned escape of a man called Sampiño is reported
as true, as was his method of escape – dressing up as his
girlfriend after a conjugal. I hope this makes Perry’s escape seem
less fanciful in light of this fact.
La
Cueva
was a fictional element introduced
to
La Tumba
. Years
of overcrowding and deteriorating conditions saw the penitentiary
closed and finally demolished in 1962.