The Poseidon Adventure (12 page)

Miss Kinsale had been considering the Minister's questioning. 'There isn't very much one can say, is there?' she replied finally, and then, lowering her eyes and dropping her voice, she added, 'We're in the hands of the Lord. I trust in Him. Thank you for letting me pray with you. You've given me strength.'

'Oh . . . yes,' Scott said, in the manner of one who has been reminded of something he has quite forgotten. Then he asked her, 'And do you trust in yourself?'

Miss Kinsale's grey eyes suddenly became luminous, 'Oh, yes,' she replied, 'when I'm with you, I have no fear. I feel you are very close to God.'

There was a noise from overhead again. This time two heads peered down upon them and they all looked up hopefully as for a moment they thought that the first man they had seen had sent aid. But there was something even more strange about these faces than the first, a curious distortion of the mouths with spittle drooling from the sides and glazed, staring eyes that were not focusing. They vanished.

Hubie Muller tried to hold them with a shout, 'Hey! You speak English? Français? Deutsch? Parla Italiano?'

They did not reappear. 'If you ask me,' said Martin, startling the group, 'they're plastered.'

'What?' queried The Beamer hopefully. 'Drunk?'

Mike Rogo came walking back, the axe over one shoulder, the rope coiled over the other. He was looking dishevelled and worried. His shoes and the bottoms of his trousers half-way up the calf were soaking wet.

The Beamer praised, 'Well done, old boy!'

Rogo said, 'Nuts!'

But Scott was held by the condition of Rogo's feet. He said, 'Hello! How did you get wet? Where was the axe?'

Rogo replied, 'Under a foot of water.' And then shifting his gaze to the bulkhead he said, 'We'd better get to hell on up there.'

Cold with apprehension Shelby said, 'My God, she's settling! What about all those down on "C" deck, then -- Acre and Peters? And the rest of those in the dining-room?'

Rogo regarded him without expression and merely replied, 'Yeah, what about them?'

Pamela Reid blurted out, 'They'll be under water, then like the rest, wouldn't they? Our cabin was on "B" deck.'

Nonnie's teeth began to chatter. She whimpered, 'Oh, my God! All my chums -- Nicky, Moira, Sybil, Heather, Jo and Timmy, are they all dead?'

'Shsh!' Muller said, 'Don't think about it.' He reached over and put his arm about her and she buried her face in his shoulder.

Scott asked, 'Was it still rising while you were there?'

'No,' Rogo replied, 'I waited a while and checked. I had the rope tied to the top of the stairs so I could get back.'

'The ship may just have been striking a buoyancy balance,' said Shelby, graveyard whistling.

Martin was more practical. He said, 'She could fill up and sink any minute.'

They looked at one another in alarm. Their momentary feeling of security evaporated. It was beginning to penetrate that any minute could be their last.

'Thanks, Rogo,' Scott said and then commanded, 'let's go!' and this time no one questioned or disputed his order. The urgency to hurry was upon them all. Scott took the axe from Rogo and wedged it firmly, pick end first, within an angle of the pipes. He tested the haft and said, 'That'll give us a nice handhold.' Turning to Pamela he said, 'Let's see you get up there.'

The British girl went to the bulkhead, the attitude of her body a study of determination and self-confidence.

She kicked off her shoes, handed them to The Beamer and began to climb. Strong toes and powerful fingers gripped every hold. When she reached the handle of the axe it gave a grip on which she could pull and thereafter she swung herself upwards steadily without a pause, until her body projected half over the top. She then wriggled the rest of the way, got to her knees, slewed around and looked down upon them. 'Not too bad,' was her verdict.

The Beamer said, 'Good God, I've been consorting with a human fly!'

There was some laughter and a notable appreciation of spirit. Muller thought that whatever else Scott might be, he was thoroughly grounded in the psychology of athleticism. He had sent up a girl. She had done it easy as wink, and thus softened it for the rest of them.

Scott called, 'Can you see anyone about, Pam?'

The girl stood up. 'There isn't too much light. Some people seem to be milling about at the far end but I can't tell how many or what they're doing. Do you want me to go and see?'

'No,' Scott replied, 'if Martin is right and they've got at some liquor and are plastered, it wouldn't do any good. We'll help Mrs Rosen next.'

The Beamer's head came up and he said, 'Did I hear the word "liquor"?' Then he sang, 'If I had the wings of an angel . . .'

Scott ignored him and continued, 'No, wait a minute! Dick, just nip to the top, so that you can give her a hand from there.'

Shelby moved aver to obey. He had no qualms this time. Scott had created almost an atmosphere of hypnosis, similar to the ones Shelby had encountered in his college years.

Scott said, 'Stay loose. Up you go!' and he gave Shelby a slap on the bottom in the manner of a quarter-back coming out of a huddle and sending his guards and tackles into the line for play.

Shelby felt excited, light and capable as he had in his football days, when, donning his helmet, he was sent out on to the field to substitute.

The euphoria lasted and under its spell he reached the top in a few seconds to join the girl.

Scott called up, 'Kneel by the edge, will you, it will give you more leverage. Okay, Mrs Rosen, right on up!'

Belle Rosen repeated bitterly, 'Right on up!' and turned to her husband, 'Must I, Manny?'

'Try, Mamma.'

She rose heavily and walked to the bulkhead, and with every step that she approached closer the difficulty became more and more obvious until she stood at the foot and turned to them with humiliation in her dark eyes. 'Look! My stummick! I can't even get close. Don't make me, please!'

Scott had signalled to the men. Muller, The Beamer, Martin and Rogo joined him. 'See,' he said, 'we're all here. We won't let you fall. You're not really as stout as you think you are. Put your feet there and your hands here. Just catch hold of the edge. Now push and pull.'

Belle Rosen rose six inches above their heads, but gave a cry, 'Oh, oh, I can't! I'm falling!' and would have done so except that the four men held her body pinned against the side of the bulkhead.

'That's fine, Mrs Rosen,' Scott said and to the others he whispered, 'Okay, lads, lift!' The enormous figure rose another six inches and she began to scream, 'No! No! Let me down! Let me down! I don't wanna do it!' even while her fat fingers were scrabbling for a handhold.

Manny Rosen said, 'Mamma, Mamma, don't get so excited! You're doing fine!'

Once more Scott ordered and they heaved. She was two feet off the floor now and held there by their combined strength. Belle continued to scream, 'Let me down! Let me down! Manny, make them stop!'

Manny Rosen hovered around the semicircle of men, now anxiously crying, 'Maybe she shouldn't do it. Maybe she's hurting herself.'

They heaved again and like something in a pantomime the fat woman rose with a scaly sound as the pipes tore at the front of her dress. 'Can you take hold of the axe and hold on for a moment?'

Belle was too frightened to scream any longer. She gripped frantically at the handle and it steadied her long enough for Scott to bend over and get his own back beneath her feet, while the others reached up their hands to steady her.

'Now let go,' Scott ordered her, 'and just lift up your arms. They can almost reach you at the top.' He strained and pushed, but her grip was now tenacious, something to hold on to. Sweat was pouring from her face. A loud sound emanated from her as she broke wind.

Linda Rogo let out a yell of laughter.

Jane Shelby turned upon her crying, 'Oh, you horror!'

Linda blew a raspberry at her as loud and long as the one that had just resounded. Jane's arm had been drawn back to slash her across the face, but it was halted by Rogo's cold voice, 'Cut it out, girls! Cut it out! Time for kidding around later.'

With all the power of his great back, Scott strained again.

'Oh,' wailed Belle, 'I can't hold any more. I'm falling.' She could no longer maintain her hold and now that she was half-way up, the others below, Martin, Rogo, The Beamer and Muller who were all of no more than average height, could not reach enough of her body to keep her pinned to the wall. She teetered for a moment and the edifice seemed about to crash. In desperation Shelby from the top, secured a momentary grip with his fingers in her dark hair.

'No, no!' Manny shouted, jumping up and down in anguish. 'Not by the hair! Not by the hair! Leave her alone!'

But automatic to the pressure on her head, Belle Rosen raised her arms to try to relieve it and Pamela Reid coolly leaning over seized one of her wrists. The English girl asked Shelby, 'I've got one of her wrists, can you get the other?'

He did so. He called to her, 'Just take it easy, Mrs Rosen, and don't be afraid. We'll have you up in a jiffy now.'

Their hold had taken some of the strain off Scott and he now straightened up swiftly, quickly placed Mrs Rosen's feet on either side of his shoulders and then incredibly thus burdened, began the climb himself.

The white, upturned face of the fat woman, her small polyp-like mouth moving miserably as she made mewing and whimpering sounds, rose higher, enabling the two at the top to slide their grip to her arms and drag Mrs Rosen over the top, where she lay on her back, gasping and crying, her arms and legs twitching, like a great fat baby.

Scott dropped down again and said, 'You're next, Rosen.'

Strangely the little man did not protest, although his hands and knees were shaking and his head too was moving from side to side. He said, 'Yeah, let me go. I wanna get up to Mamma. I must get up to her. How do I do it?'

Muller recognized the symptoms of man under stress. Adrenalins would be pouring into his body. 'Just go,' he said. 'Don't worry. We'll boost you.'

It was so. Manny clawed his way upwards without ever turning back or wavering.

Scott grinned as his feet disappeared over the top. He said, 'I'll bet you boys don't go up like that! Okay, the little monkey next. Come on, Robin. Do we throw you, or can you make it under your own steam?'

'I can do it,' the boy said, clambered up and then called, 'Come on, Mum! Come on, Sis! It's easy.'

Jane Shelby said, 'It is, when you're ten.' Nevertheless, she made the ascent with singular grace, followed by her daughter.

Scott asked. 'Who's next?'

'Me,' Nonnie answered.

Muller said, 'Just imagine you're in a pantomime. Exit fairies upwards, laughingly.'

Nonnie went over to the wall and stood there a moment looking up. She was so diminutive that it seemed even higher than it had been before. She said, 'Oh dear, this blasted dressing-gown.'

Linda said, 'Why don't you take it off?'

Nonnie made no reply, but two tiny teeth showed over her lower lip and without further ado, she started up. Although she had tied the dressing-gown around her waist with Hubie's braces, nevertheless it still fell open.

Linda giggled. 'Old man Shelby's having himself a look this time. Not that she's got anything to look at.'

Nonnie waved to Muller, 'Sugar Plum fairy okay, waiting for Principal Boy.'

Scott said, 'Will you go next, Mrs Rogo?'

Linda said, 'Oh, I'm scared! I'll need help. Can you give me your arm?' Rogo stepped forward. She said, 'Him, not you!' She put her foot on to the first ledge and a hand through a projection on the piping.

With her white bra and panties, she had thrown her coat to her husband. The Beamer thought for an instant that she looked like a circus acrobat about to mount to her trapeze. Scott took her free arm and lifted.

'Boy!' said Linda, 'Some muscle!' She went up a few feet and hung there, looking down at him, her rump level with his face, 'Ooh!' she said, 'I'm scared to go any farther. Boost me.'

The Beamer said to himself, 'Why, the little bitch! She's teasing him.'

Without the slightest hesitation, Scott applied one huge hand to her bottom and pushed. Linda went like a cat over a wall. 'Hey!' she gasped, 'You play rough!' but kept on going.

Miss Kinsale said, 'May I try next?' The men gathered at the foot of the bulkhead all looked around startled. They had quite forgotten her.

Scott asked, 'Can you manage?'

'Oh, yes,' said Miss Kinsale, 'when I was a girl on our estate in the country, we always used to climb trees. It's really almost like a tree, isn't it? And Dr Scott has so cleverly made a branch for us. No, no, thank you, I shan't need any help, really. But one of you might bring my shoes, please.'

She stepped out of them and climbed the wall with the same quiet, introspective deliberation that marked all her behaviour.

To Rogo, Muller, The Beamer and Martin, Scott then said, 'All right, fellows, that's that. Get on up. We've lost enough time.' And when they arrived at the top, he himself made the climb half-way, then swung over and seized the gleaming rail of the overhead staircase, freed the axe, used it to gain another hold higher up and in a moment had joined the rest spread out across the upside-down floor of the long, wide, murky alley.