The Hamiltons of Ballydown (16 page)

She cried till she was exhausted, then she washed her face in cold water and carefully wrapped up her completed film ready to go to the post in the morning.

After the tears and kisses, the embraces and last minute messages, the coach journey and the long hours in a stuffy train, all three Hamiltons were grateful for the cool and relative quiet of the ship. They ate supper silently and went to their cabins early, each of them absorbed in thoughts that raced backwards and forwards across the wide stretch of calm, grey sea that divided their lives from their own past, and now from another life in Gloucestershire.

In the early hours of the morning Sarah woke and lay listening to the unfamiliar noises of the ship, the slight creak of movement, the sudden muffled thumps and bangs from the decks below. A dim, misty dawn filtered through the salt-sprayed porthole of the cabin. She eyed it carefully. Even if the Irish coast were in sight, there wasn’t enough
light for what she wanted. She’d wait a while before she risked waking Hannah who was fast asleep in the lower bunk.

Somewhere, miles away across the water, her father, Jamie and Sam would be getting up early to come and meet them. She could imagine them standing on the quay at the very same spot from where they’d waved goodbye so many weeks ago. No Elizabeth and Hugh this time. Hugh had had his operation. Elizabeth had written to Ma some time ago and said it had been successful, but he’d been away four weeks already and they still didn’t know when he’d be home. She wasn’t sure Elizabeth had told them exactly what was happening.

Well, if Elizabeth and Hugh were to miss their homecoming, all the more reason to record it for them. She lay thinking about the pictures she might take as they came up the lough. She wondered if the throbbing of the ship would create camera shake. No Teddy to ask now, she thought, with a small stab of sadness. In a year’s time, he would be her brother. She was going to miss him as much as she would miss Hannah and Marianne.

What she really wanted were the pictures of the harbour you could only get from the ship as she slowed right down to manoeuvre into her berth. But even if she were moving slowly, angles would change quickly, so she’d need to be in just the right place to catch the moment she wanted. She tried to
remember exactly what she’d seen as they’d left and where on the deck she’d need to be. It was hard to recall the details of their departure now, it seemed such a long, long time ago. They’d walked round the upper decks with Elizabeth and Hugh and Jamie had taken charge. She could hear his sharp, light tones.

‘That’s my drawing office down there,’ he’d said, pointing to a one storey building.

‘And where’s
your
ship, Jamie?’ she’d asked.

‘Over there,’ he’d replied, not even bothering to look at her.

‘So that’s the
Oceanic
, is it?’ Hugh had asked, gripping the rail, as he leant out for a better view of the forest of spars and planks that enfolded an invisible shape of enormous height and length.

‘Well, it’s the keel. That’s where we start,’ Jamie laughed. ‘She’s not due for launching till late ’98 or early ’99 you know.’

Jamie had got well into his stride then, telling them all the details of the ship. How long she was and how high. What engines she was going to have. He was not at all pleased when Hannah cried out suddenly.

‘Look everyone. Look up there.’

She was pointing her finger towards the top of the central spine of a tall, three-masted barque berthed further down channel.

Sarah had spotted the small figure right away,
but her mother couldn’t see him until her father told her which mast Hannah was pointing at and whereabouts on it to look.

‘My goodness, ye’d need to have a head for that, wou’dn’t ye?’ he said, as they all watched the lithe figure climbing steadily up the rigging.

‘How high would that be, Jamie?’ Sam asked thoughtfully, his eyes never leaving the small dark shape.

‘Probably about two hundred feet. They need a huge amount of sail to make any speed at all,’ he said nonchalantly.

‘But it would look magnificent under full sail,’ said Elizabeth. ‘It must carry a lot of canvas. I’ve never seen so much rigging before.’

‘Oh we see them all the time,’ said Jamie, scarcely managing to show even a polite interest. ‘They still bring grain from Australia and non-perishable stuff that doesn’t need refrigerator ships. Anything so long as speed doesn’t matter. But I can’t see them surviving long myself.’

‘A pity,’ said Hugh, studying the tracery of ropes and rigging. ‘They’re very handsome, but I suspect the working conditions are very harsh compared with steamships.’

She’d smiled at Hugh then and he’d smiled back. Since they’d been friends again, they’d talked a great deal about working conditions in the mills and all sorts of other employments. He’d promised to lend
her the Factory Inspector’s Reports when she came back from Gloucestershire, so she could see for herself the problems that were known and being addressed and the ones that hadn’t yet been picked up. Poor Hugh. Ma did say he’d been through a lot. But then, so had Ma, and she was all right now.

She climbed down from her bunk, peered through the porthole and saw the solid grey line of the Down coast beyond the gleaming mass of gently oscillating water. She managed to dress without waking Hannah, picked up her camera and went up on deck.

There was no one else there, but as she leant over the rail, she saw navy clad figures moving on the deck below among barrels and boxes and huge coils of rope. She watched carefully, worked out what they were doing, framed them in her viewfinder. After ten minutes or so, she leant over the rail as far as she dared and shouted down to them.

‘Excuse me. Please would you do that again, but a bit more slowly.’

‘Aye surely,’ came the reply, as one of the two men caught sight of her. ‘But watch out, miss. Yer man Charlie’s face might break yer wee box o’ tricks,’ he said, nodding his head at the older man.

She took her picture, thanked them, then peered into the mist ahead of them. Even as she watched, the muffling white presence began to disperse as the sun rose into a clear sky and laid a glittering golden
swathe across the ruffled water in their wake. The distant shores had moved closer. Suddenly there were seagulls all around them, swooping and diving, their cries startling in the pearly quiet of the morning.

There was detail now, church spire and mill chimney, the white splashes of cottages amidst sloping fields on the Antrim side. On the Down side she picked out a lighthouse, a great mansion with gardens running down to the shore, a foundry with thick black smoke rising in the clear air and a train, close to the water’s edge, its smoke floating upwards in white puffs like an Indian signal in a story book.

‘Hallo, Sarah. You were up early,’ Hannah said, slipping up to the rail beside her. ‘Have you taken many pictures?’

‘No, just a few. Not sure I won’t get shake with the vibrations, but it’s worth a try. It’ll be better when we go into the lough. The ship has to slow down because of the erosion of the deep water channel. That suits me,’ she said grinning. ‘I want a picture of that huge sailing ship we saw the night we left with the
Oceanic
behind her.’

‘But won’t she be gone?’

‘Oh yes, I’m sure she will, but there’ll probably be another one. Don’t you remember Jamie said, “
Oh, we see them all the time.
” She caught his supercilious tone perfectly. ‘He’s got really pompous in the last year, but he’s probably right about the
sailing ships.
His
office is down on the quay near where they berth, so
he
should know.’

‘Don’t let him annoy you, Sarah,’ Hannah said gently. ‘He probably feels unsure of himself. When people aren’t sure of themselves they often behave as if they know everything.’

Sarah stopped looking through her viewfinder and stared at her sister. She’d never heard her say anything like that before. Just the sort of thing their mother would say. Still, whatever the reason for Jamie’s behaviour, she really couldn’t stand him being so bossy.

There
was
a sailing ship berthed just where Sarah hoped it would be. Its deck was covered with small figures working with slings and ropes to hoist great loads of timber from deck to quay while barrels and chests were being brought up from the hold in rope nets, swung like a shopping bag on a crooked finger. Sarah decided to forget about the
Oceanic
. She used up all her film on the sailing ship except for one last frame she was saving for Da and the boys waiting down on the quay.

‘Did you get what you wanted, Sarah?’ asked Rose, as she and Hannah came to join her where she was standing, camera in hand.

Their own vessel was much quieter now, the throb of the engines reduced to a distant hum, but seamen were still manhandling capstans and hawsers
to secure her to the quay before the gangplank could be lowered.

‘Yes, I did. But don’t expect very much, we were juddering all the time,’ she said, as they moved round the deck to watch the activity below and the people arriving to greet their friends and family.

‘Still worth trying,’ Rose said encouragingly. ‘Teddy always said you had to make mistakes to see how to do it better.

She ran her eye over the gathering crowd on the quay below her.

‘I can’t see Da and the boys anywhere,’ she went on easily. ‘Can either of you spot them? The stewardess told me the boat was very full last night. I suppose that’s why there are so many people waiting.’

They watched as first one and then a second gangplank was rolled into place and two streams of people flowed steadily down to the quay to be greeted with hugs and kisses. In a surprisingly short time they dispersed and the quay was empty again, except for seamen and stewards going back and forth, up and down on the gangplanks.

‘Perhaps Da and Sam have been delayed and Jamie’s waiting for them at the Great Northern,’ Rose said at last, when there was still no sign of them. ‘I think we should go and have breakfast.’

‘But would Da know where to find us?’ asked Sarah, more than a hint of anxiety in her voice.

‘Yes, of course. He’ll come and ask the steward if we’re still on board and we’ll tell the steward that we’ll be in the dining room.’

Breakfast was good and Sarah was ravenous. Rose did her best to eat, but she didn’t feel very hungry. It was not like John to be late, however early the hour. He never minded getting up at six, or even five, if the job needed it, and he’d assured her he’d be waiting. Now she was about to come home, he’d owned up at last how much he was missing her.

All the way through breakfast Sarah expected a familiar figure to appear in the doorway, speak a word to the steward and be directed towards their table. It would be wonderful if it was her father, or Sam, but even Jamie would do, though he was certainly not in her good books at the moment. But no one came.

By the time they finished breakfast, they were almost the only people left in the dining room. They went back out on deck and looked around. The quay was empty of passengers and their families. The ship was settling to its morning routine, piles of sheets stacked in companionways, doors propped open for the cleaners. An hour had passed. There was now no question of lateness. Something had gone wrong. They would have to make their own way home.

‘Right then,’ said Rose. ‘We’ll need two porters and a cab to the Great Northern. Sarah, would you
find the steward to deal with the cases while Hannah and I collect our hand luggage.’

They had to wait for a cab to be summoned to the quayside and then there was a long wait at the station for a train to Banbridge. The lovely morning that spilt its bright sunshine down on city streets and countryside just beginning to show the first hints of autumn did little to cheer them. Once they got to Banbridge, Sarah hurried across from the station to The Bunch of Grapes and found someone to collect up their luggage and drive them out to Ballydown. The last two miles of their long journey seemed the slowest of all, as they sat silent, all speculations pointless when the next mile would reveal all.

Rose found herself shaking with apprehension as she stepped down from the post-chaise, leaving Hannah to pay the driver. She pushed open the gate and saw weeds poking out of her precious flowerbed. The front door was open and a figure moved in the doorway. It was Sam. Sam with a bandage swathing his head, his leg in plaster, his arms gripping two crutches. He was smiling, his usual warm, open smile as if nothing whatever were the matter.

‘Sam dear, what
has
happened,’ she cried, as he bent to kiss her.

‘A bit of an accident, Ma. I’m none the worse,’ he said reassuringly, as Sarah and Hannah came running up the path. ‘Sorry I can’t give Da and Jamie a hand with the luggage.’

He peered into the dazzling sunlight where the post-chaise stood at the gate, it’s driver beginning to unload the heavy cases.

‘Sam dear, Da and Jamie aren’t with us. We waited over an hour at the boat, but neither of them appeared. What time did Da leave to meet us?’ asked Rose anxiously, as they all moved into the house.

Sarah wrinkled her nose. There was an unfamiliar smell and it wasn’t very nice. She set down her small suitcase and saw the floor was covered with dust and crumbs.

‘Da went off yesterday to Millbrook,’ Sam explained, lowering himself cautiously into a chair and propping his crutches within reach. ‘There was a bit of a fire. Not all that bad, I think. They got it in time, but he had to be there for the insurance people and the builders. He said he’d have to be there all evening to see to things so he’d stay overnight with the mill manager. Once he’d seen to the papers the manager needed, he’d get a bit of sleep and go up on the first train. Jamie was to meet him down on the quay. Sure, it’s only a step from his office.’

Rose sighed. There was nothing they could do but wait. What had prevented John from getting to meet them could be anything from a rail delay to another outbreak of fire. As for Jamie, she had no idea what could have prevented him from meeting them, even if he had to go on to work immediately afterwards.