The Trader's Reward Read online

  ‘Let me find you a place.’ He deliberately led Barrett to the end away from Cara.

  To his horror, Barrett whispered, ‘Where is she?’ His voice was loud enough to be heard by those nearby, who didn’t even try to pretend they weren’t listening.

  ‘Who do you mean?’

  Barrett tittered. ‘You know who! The scarlet woman. I don’t want to sit near her. Not yet. Not till I’m ready to say something. Soon, though. I shall soon reveal all.’

  ‘You’ll be all right at this end of the bench.’ And he’d be closer to the fellow, if there was trouble. What did Barrett mean by his last remark? If he tried to say anything about Cara, Rémi would punch him. He didn’t like fighting but could handle himself if necessary, especially to protect someone.

  He sighed and took his place to the side of the stage. He could do no more about the situation at the moment. Their only hope was that the music would do its usual job of calming Barrett down.

  When everyone was in place, the Captain and first mate came out escorting a titled gentleman and his wife, who were on their way to serve in India. They had been treated with great deference during the whole journey, dining in the captain’s cabin most of the time, and not mingling much with even the better class of passenger.

  They took their places in the front row, smiling graciously, then Fergus moved forward to welcome everyone. He begged their indulgence towards a group of talented amateurs who had worked hard to put the concert together.

  He introduced the first act, which was a duet by two young ladies. Their mother, who was accompanying them, struck a chord on the piano and they began singing.

  They didn’t have much talent but they’d been well taught and could hold a tune. Tonight they remembered everything Fergus had suggested to improve their performance and when the audience applauded loudly, they both blushed and looked charmingly confused.

  The second act was an elderly gentleman, who recited a poem. Fergus had persuaded him to shorten it, and that made a big difference to its impact.

  The third act was the choir, and Fergus kept an eye on Barrett. But the man merely followed the others, standing at the end of a row, and singing with them. The audience applauded loudly.

  Then the choir moved back to the benches and Fergus introduced Barrett, who was looking round as if unsure what he was doing there on his own.

  But once Fergus played the introductory music, Barrett jerked to attention and began singing his song, not as well as usual, but well enough. He too won a round of applause from an audience ready to be pleased.

  People called for an encore, but he ignored them and went off to sit on the end of a bench, staring down at his clenched fists.

  Fergus stepped in quickly. ‘Mr Barrett is saving his voice for later,’ he told the audience.

  Item by item they went through the programme, and no one forgot their lines or their cues. It was going very well indeed, far better than the organisers had hoped.

  After a short interval, Fergus started the second half by singing two songs. Strange how people loved sentimental Irish songs and yet didn’t like the Irish, he thought as the audience applauded loudly. Ah well, he couldn’t change that, could he now? He just had to live with it.

  It was as the choir was moving into place to perform the finale that it happened.

  Barrett suddenly stood up and yelled, ‘This is not right!’ His face was flushed and he had a wild look. He shoved a woman out of the way and looked as if he was trying to get to Cara.

  Rémi headed for him, hoping no one else had realised whom Barrett was going after.

  One of the sailors joined him. ‘Now, sir. Please calm down and—’

  But Barrett backed away and when they started to follow, he yelled, ‘Stay where you are!’ and produced a knife. The blade looked sharp and it wasn’t a kitchen knife, but a large, old-fashioned dagger.

  There was an ‘Oooh!’ from the people assembled and those closest to Barrett edged back as much as they could.

  Where the hell had he got that dagger from? Rémi wondered. Had he brought it on board with him?

  ‘Keep quiet!’ the captain called. ‘Everyone, please stay where you are and leave this to my crew.’

  Silence fell as everyone waited to see what Barrett would do. The captain gestured to his officers to wait a moment and see what happened next.

  But the sailor who had stepped in first didn’t see this unspoken command and continued to edge slowly towards Barrett from one direction while Rémi moved in from the other side.

  Barrett waved the knife threateningly. ‘I said to stay back.’

  They stopped for a moment, waiting.

  ‘I have something to say.’ Barrett had reached the rails. He felt behind him with one foot for the bottom cross piece, not taking his eyes off the two men trying to get to him. As he stood on the lower rail to gain extra height, they edged forward again.

  ‘Stay back, I said!’ he yelled, looking so wild they did as ordered.

  ‘I have something to tell you all, something important, and I won’t be silenced. It’s a disgrace, that’s what it is. And if you don’t let me say it, I’ll use this to make my point.’ He brandished the knife, its blade gleaming in the light from the many lanterns set out for the concert.

  It was like a scene from a nightmare.

  Suddenly Barrett mounted higher, causing those watching to gasp audibly as he wobbled, nearly fell, then got into a position straddling the top rail.

  Not for one minute did he lower the knife and his eyes moved constantly from Rémi to the sailor, who were standing quite still nearby.

  ‘Dear heaven, the idiot will fall overboard if he’s not careful,’ Fergus murmured to the officer now standing next to him. ‘He’s run mad. We have to do something.’

  ‘Nothing we can do to stop him while he’s brandishing that knife. He could kill someone.’

  ‘But—’

  The officer put out his arm to bar the way. ‘Stay where you are, sir, please. There are two sailors, one quite close to him, and that’s enough to stop him harming the other passengers. If they keep him there for long enough, he’ll let his guard down. Some of the other men are moving forward step by step, ready to help. But if anyone moves too suddenly now, they may drive him to attack.’

  Fergus had to acknowledge the sense of this, but he knew what Barrett wanted to tell people, knew the man wanted to hurt Cara. It was terrible to be so helpless in the face of disaster for someone you loved.

  He turned to look for her, desperate to make sure she was protected. She was still sitting in the middle of the choir and after checking that she was all right, he looked away, not wishing to draw attention to her. She’d had the wit to stay hidden from Barrett, without making it obvious what she was doing, and though her expression was anxious, everyone else was looking upset too, so she didn’t seem any different from the other women.

  He tried desperately to think of a way to stop Barrett from speaking, from destroying his wife’s reputation.

  If he didn’t manage to do that, he and his whole family would have to take Cara away and settle somewhere they were unknown. He wasn’t sure where that might be, was only sure that whatever happened, he was going to look after her, cherish her, love her and make her his wife in more than name.

  17

  Rémi watched the wild-eyed man’s every move, waiting for an opportunity to grab him. But Barrett kept waving that knife around, its blade gleaming in the lamplight, and only a fool would run on to it. He wasn’t a fool, didn’t intend to get killed or injured.

  ‘What I want to tell you all,’ Barrett yelled and waved the knife again as if for emphasis, ‘is—’

  His rear foot, the one on the outside of the rail, slipped suddenly and he had to grab the rail with one hand to stop himself falling. Somehow he kept hold of the knife and righted himself before anyone could get close enough to grab him.

  But Rémi and the sailor were another step closer. And a second sailor was moving gra
dually towards them all as well.

  Rémi prayed that something would stop the madman from speaking and ruining his friend’s life.

  ‘I’ll stab anyone who comes near me,’ Barrett shouted at the top of his voice. ‘I will, I will!’

  The two men near him froze again, exchanging quick frustrated glances.

  ‘Now keep quiet and listen! I have something very important to tell you.’ Barrett seemed to forget that he’d just said something similar.

  A child began to cry and its mother tried to shush it.

  ‘Stop it making that noise!’ Barrett waved the knife so wildly it flew from his hand, clattering along the deck.

  That was what the two men were waiting for. They moved towards him, arms outstretched to grab him.

  He screamed, a high thin sound, more like a woman’s scream than a man’s. As he leaned backwards, trying to stay away from the hands reaching out for him, his rear foot slipped off the rail again, throwing him off balance.

  Though he scrabbled for the rail, he missed it and, with shocking suddenness, he vanished from sight, falling towards the water, arms and legs flailing.

  Though Rémi lunged forward to grab him, he wasn’t quite close enough. His fingers closed on air only a few inches away.

  ‘Nooooo!’ Barrett’s voice trailed through the night, growing fainter as he fell and splashed into the dark, heaving sea.

  Rémi and the sailor leaned over the rail to see Barrett struggling in the water, his face pale against the darkness, showing only because of the ship’s lights.

  But the vessel was moving inexorably on.

  Barrett’s head bobbed up further along, then sank beneath the water. One arm waved from further away still, as if pleading for help. Then it vanished. After that, there was no sign of the man.

  And the ship travelled on relentlessly, like all such vessels unable to stop for some time. By which time Barrett would be long out of sight.

  One officer had grabbed binoculars and was leaning over the rail at the rear of the ship, training them on the water, his head moving as he scanned to and fro, to and fro …

  After a few moments, he let the binoculars drop and looked across at the captain. ‘I’m pretty sure he’s gone under, sir. I could see pretty clearly, with the moon just out from behind the clouds. I’d have seen him if he’d surfaced, I know I would.’

  The captain shook his head, sighing. ‘Dear heaven, why did he do that?’

  ‘Can’t you let down a small boat?’ a passenger called.

  ‘I’m afraid not, sir. It’d take too long to get it in the water and by then he’d be a mile behind us. We’d never find him, even if he were still alive. Nor would we find his body in such deep water, even if we did stop and turn the ship round.’

  ‘We have to try, surely?’ another gentleman said.

  ‘How do we find the correct area of the sea, once we’ve slowed down and turned the ship?’ the captain asked. ‘There is nothing around us but water, nothing to mark the spot.’

  One of the two officers standing next to the man said softly, ‘The sea can be cruel.’

  The silence on deck broke suddenly and people began talking, weeping, shouting, clutching one another.

  Rémi stood by the rail, feeling sick to have seen a man die like that, to have been so close to saving him. Then he turned towards his friend.

  But Fergus wasn’t looking at anyone except his wife, and what showed in his face was love. Rémi envied him that. He had never found a woman he could love in that enduring way.

  Well, at least Cara was safe now. Good had come out of the terrible incident.

  When he saw Barrett fall, Fergus pushed his way through the crowd to Cara and dragged her into his arms. As she tried to speak, he whispered, ‘Shh. There are people all around us.’

  So she let him hold her close, trembling in reaction, huddling against his warm, strong body, drawing comfort from him.

  He murmured, for her ears only, ‘You’re safe now.’

  She kept her own voice down. ‘But he’s dead. I didn’t want to be safe because he’d died!’

  ‘You didn’t cause his death. Nor did I, thank God. He slipped and fell because of his own foolishness.’

  ‘He did, didn’t he?’ She relaxed a little more.

  Sean pushed his way through the crowd to join them. He was holding Mal by the hand, and both boys were looking shocked. Neither protested when Fergus pulled them close to him and Cara.

  Ma and Pa followed them and the family stood close together, not sure what to do next.

  ‘That was a terrible thing to happen,’ Pa said at last. ‘Terrible.’ He crossed himself.

  Ma also crossed herself. Cara’s father would have scorned this papist action, but if it brought Pa and Ma comfort, Cara couldn’t see anything wrong with doing it.

  ‘The poor man had run mad. May his soul rest in peace.’ Ma looked up at Fergus. ‘Didn’t I tell you something bad was going to happen tonight?’

  ‘You did, Ma. And sadly, you were right.’

  ‘It’s over now. Things will be better for us from now on. I know it.’ She linked her arm with her husband’s.

  Other families were doing the same thing: standing close, holding one another, seeming to derive comfort from the touch of a hand, or an arm round their shoulders. Some women were weeping. One elderly gentleman was blowing his nose, then blowing it again, to hide his tears. Children were pressing close to their parents, shocked by what had happened.

  The captain went to what had been the stage and an officer called for attention.

  ‘I’m sorry you had to witness that unhappy incident, ladies and gentlemen. I can only think that the poor man went suddenly mad. But though he caused his own death, I’m sure he didn’t mean to do it, so I think it would be appropriate if we all bowed our heads and said a prayer for his immortal soul.’

  They did as he’d asked, and when he began the Lord’s Prayer, most joined in.

  After a few minutes had passed, the captain said, ‘I thank everyone for the concert, which was excellent, in spite of the way it ended. We should all seek our beds now, and perhaps the stewards can organise a cup of tea and a piece of cake for those wishing some supper.’

  On the way out, he stopped to say, ‘Mr Newland, could I have a word with you in my cabin, please?’

  Still shocked and subdued, the cabin passengers followed the titled couple out, and the steerage passengers waited for their departure, before retrieving their children and going below.

  Fergus stayed on deck, moving to a corner where he and Cara could be alone.

  She looked at him and opened her mouth to say something, but he again made a shushing sound.

  He leaned closer as if to give her a hug and whispered, ‘Least said, soonest mended, don’t you think?’

  ‘Poor Jeffrey.’

  ‘Yes. He was quite mad, you know. Rémi’s been worried about his strange behaviour for a while.’

  ‘You’re such a comfort to me.’ Cara planted a light kiss on her husband’s cheek, blushing slightly at her own impulsiveness.

  He was delighted by her spontaneous kiss, but rather ashamed of how relieved he felt about their situation. Thanks to that man’s death, Cara was safe, and the family would be free to settle in Australia.

  Now he could enjoy the rest of the voyage, before facing the ordeal of meeting his eldest brother again, and accepting his help in settling in Australia.

  He was still dreading that, hated the thought of being beholden to Bram, of all people.

  Unthinkable to go anywhere else than Western Australia, however. Families needed to stick together, so that they could help one another in the bad times and enjoy the good times.

  Surely he and Bram would get on better now that they were older?

  Rémi followed the captain to his cabin and the doctor joined them there, followed by the head steward.

  ‘Mr Newland, I shall have to write a report on this tragic incident,’ the captain began. ‘I would be
grateful if you could tell us about Mr Barrett’s behaviour for the past few days.’

  Rémi explained how strangely Barrett had been acting, and the steward corroborated his observations, mentioning that they’d felt it necessary to restrict Mr Barrett’s access to alcohol.

  The doctor put a few questions to them, then shook his head sadly. ‘I’m fairly certain it was delirium tremens, Captain.’

  ‘What exactly is that?’ Rémi asked.

  ‘It’s strange behaviour, like a form of madness, associated with someone who has been a heavy drinker and has been suddenly deprived of alcohol. It can lead to agitation, confusion, hallucinations, and there’s nothing much to be done about it. This is a classic case, I fear.’

  Rémi left the cabin feeling better for knowing what had caused Barrett’s strange behaviour, but sad that the poor man had lost his life so young.

  If he’d known about the problems that could be caused by cutting off the supply of drink to Barrett, he might not have conspired with the steward.

  You could never be sure where an act would lead you, but it was the good intentions that made the difference when things went wrong, he had decided years ago when he first went to work for his uncle, who had thought only to make money from his nephew.

  Rémi would never let himself be ruled by a lust for money, he’d decided that too.

  But it had been a sad end to the evening.

  It seemed strange not to worry about the future, but as the ship steamed across the Mediterranean towards Port Said the next day, Cara felt lighter, as if she were suspended in a delightful place outside the harsh reality of daily life. She had the strange fancy that happiness was beginning to tiptoe into her days on little velvet feet.

  She was starting to feel that Fergus cared for her, as she had begun to care for him. That was so wonderful after the worst year of her life. A real miracle.

  She’d even been given a child, and though she still grew sad at times thinking of her poor, dead little baby, Niamh was there to cheer her up, growing plumper, making noises, pumping the air vigorously with her arms and legs.

  Cara knew she was biased but she wasn’t the only one to admire the baby, who was showing every sign of growing into a pretty child. Even Sean played with her sometimes now, smiling at her and touching her gently. That pleased Cara immensely.