Storm and Silence (Storm and Silence 1)

Again, I heard t

he ship’s alarm bell ringing high above me. It suddenly, painfully, reminded me of church bells announcing a wedding.

Ha! As if this was anything like a wedding. At a wedding, everything was white. Tonight, everything was in black. At a wedding, two people were joined for life. Tonight, two people would be divided in death. At a wedding, two people loved each other. He only hated me, didn’t he? He had said it often enough.

I glanced sideways at Mr Ambrose and saw that he, too, was watching me, his dark eyes burning with cold fire. I remembered his lips skimming over mine, and suddenly it struck me that in this last respect, maybe tonight wasn’t so unlike a wedding after all. My jaw began to quiver, and I could feel moisture at the corner of my eyes, threatening to spill over.

‘Don’t, Mr Linton.’ The voice was Mr Ambrose’s - but it was neither as hard nor as cold as usual. It sounded almost gentle. ‘It’s wet enough as it is.’

I nodded hurriedly and clenched my teeth. I wouldn’t cry! I would be strong.

We arrived at the sodden altar of our deadly wedding. The wedding guests didn’t seem too pleased to see us. Particularly, when Mr Ambrose started pushing through the crowd.

‘You there!’ one of the men shouted. ‘Stand back and wait your turn, like any of us!’

Mr Ambrose shot the man a glare that could have frozen lava and held up our joined hands. ‘I’m not seeking a place for myself, but for this lady here.’

‘What the hell is that supposed to mean?’ The man growled, not even bothering to look at me. ‘There are already heaps of women in the boats. All that were on the ship!’

‘Apparently not.’ Mr Ambrose’s voice remained calm and cool, but I when I glanced at the little finger of his left hand, I knew the truth behind the mask. The finger was twitching in prestissimo. ‘As you can see, there is still this young lady left, and…’

‘What, that strumpet?’ the man growled, glancing in disgust at my less than orderly attire. ‘Not a chance she’s getting into the boat with us. It’s time that honest men got a pla-’

Mr Ambrose’s fist moved faster than a lightning bolt. The man was thrown backwards, driving people right and left, and slammed into the ship’s railing.

‘Just to clarify,’ Mr Ambrose said, still as cool as an iceberg. ‘I’ll be staying behind to make sure she gets on board safely.’

‘No!’

The word was out of my mouth before I knew why or how. The crowd’s eyes snapped to me. Then, from me, they went to Mr Ambrose, and back to me again. Something appeared in their eyes then, some understanding I couldn’t quite reach, and they backed away. Mr Ambrose led me through their midst, though now I had started to struggle. I was finally starting to realize all of what he meant to do.

‘No!’ I protested. ‘You can’t stay behind! You can’t! I won’t let you!’

He said nothing, just picked me up and deposited me in the lifeboat as if I weighed nothing at all. I tried to scramble out again, but the hands of other women grabbed me, holding me back. I could feel wetness stream down my face. Were those tears, or was it rain? The storm roared louder and louder.

‘Look after her, will you?’ Mr Ambrose asked Lady Timberlake, who was cowering in the boat, right beside me.

The old lady nodded.

‘I will, young Sir! I promise. Such a lovely girl. She looks just like I when I was younger. Why, even her dress looks like one of mine! It’s almost like fate. I promise, nothing will happen to her.’

‘No,’ I mumbled, helplessly, not looking at her once. ‘No! Don’t do this!’

I tried to reach for Mr Ambrose, but he retreated far away. Other people started to climb into the boat after me. Were they were men or women? I did not know. They could have been elephants, for all I cared. All that mattered was: he wasn’t one of them. He didn’t even try to get a place on the boat. He just stood there, staring at me as if his gaze, connected to mine, was his lifeline. I stared back, knowing that all too soon, that line would no longer hold. In such a moment, another man might have spouted goodbyes, confessions - he said not a word.

From somewhere far away and unimportant, I heard a shouted command. The boat rose into the air and slowly began to be lowered over the side of the ship. I held Mr Ambrose’s gaze until the very last moment. When he vanished behind the side of the ship, I buried my face in my hands and slumped to the boat’s floor.

This couldn’t be happening! We were supposed to have won! To have brought back the prize in triumph! This was impossible!

With a violent jerk, the boat touched down on the roiling sea. Someone shouted commands - a man’s voice. So there were men aboard. But he wasn’t. He wasn’t.

Over the yowling of the wind I heard the splash as oars dipped into the water. The little boat was carried away, dancing like an empty nutshell on the surface of the water. I felt just as empty. There were arms around me, and the voice of an old woman was muttering soothing nothings into my ear, but I didn’t feel able to respond, or even to hear. Some part of me wanted to fight her off, but my arms felt so weak, so terribly weak. This could not be happening!

Glancing up through the wild veil of my hair, I saw the ship, far above and away, atop a giant wave, just as much at the mercy of the ocean as we were in our tiny vessel. For just a moment, I thought I saw a lone figure standing at the prow. Then my head slumped down, the rest of my energy used up. Tonight had simply been too much to be real. It had to be a dream.

But you know it isn’t, came a voice from the back of my mind. Just as his kiss was no dream, either.

I cringed, shuddering with pain. From above, I heard a crash, a giant roar, and thought That was the ship, splitting apart. I wanted to look, wanted to look so much, but could not. I didn’t have the strength.