‘And will you still need caulkers once you switch to metal ships?’
He grimaced. ‘The decks will still be made of wood, but it won’t be the same. We’ll have to retrain as many people as we can.’
‘So such skills might be lost? That seems a shame.’
‘It does. It’s one of the reasons why men like Harper don’t want to see it happen. I sympathise, but the alternative is that we all go bankrupt.’
She let out a long breath, gazing around with an expression of admiration. ‘It’s incredible. How do you organise it all?’
‘Practice.’ He frowned suddenly, feeling a rush of salty air on his skin. That was it—all the warning he needed.
‘What’s the matter?’ She followed his gaze out to sea. ‘Is it the storm?’
‘The start of it. Come on.’ He took a firm hold of her hand, pulling her behind him. ‘You need to get inside.’
‘What about you?’
‘I need to shut everything down.’
He flung open the door to the offices, almost dragging her along the corridor to his room at the back. It wasn’t much—a spartan, wooden-floored office with a paper-strewn desk in the middle—but it had the benefit of large windows along two sides, perfectly positioned to see everything that went on in the shipyard.
‘You’ll be safe here.’ He strode across to his desk and pulled out a red leather chair for her to sit down. ‘Don’t move. I won’t be long.’
* * *
He was gone so quickly that Ianthe didn’t have a chance to answer.
She glanced briefly at the chair he’d pulled out for her and then crossed to the window instead, watching as he strode back out into the yard. A group of serious-looking men approached him at once and they all huddled together, talking intently for a few moments before marching off in different directions.
There was a low rumble of thunder, and she looked up at the sky. The clouds were definitely gathering now, lining up like a battalion of grey soldiers, ready to charge at the harbour. She looked back to where Robert had been standing, but he wasn’t there any longer. Anxiously, her eyes searched the yard, skimming over the caulkers and joiners and ropers who were all rushing to close the workshop doors and take shelter. Where was he?
She gave a cry of relief as she found him at last, out on the mudflats, though how he’d reached them so quickly she had no idea. He was working alongside his men, hauling giant tarpaulins over the mud before hoisting them up and over the boats on the shore, trying to provide the half-built vessels with some protection from the elements.
She tightened her grip on the windowpane as it started to rattle ominously, wishing she could do something to help. The wind seemed to be gaining in strength every second. What had started as a gentle breeze now had the power to almost wrench the tarpaulin out of their hands. Robert’s shirt was billowing around his chest like a sail, while the boats in the river were pitching from side to side so violently it looked as though they might never come upright again.
Then the rain started. There was no drizzle, no light warning shower, just a sudden sheet of water falling straight from the sky, drenching the men in seconds. There were only a few of them left outside now, Robert amongst them, hammering pegs into the mud as he lashed the tarpaulins to the ground. She fought the urge to call out to him, hardly daring to breathe until he finally got up, waving at the others to take shelter as he ran back towards the office.
‘Robert!’ She hurtled out
of the room and down the corridor.
‘I’m all right.’ He slammed the door shut, running a hand through his hair as a puddle started to form around him. ‘Where are the clerks?’
‘Who?’
He gestured towards another door. ‘My clerks work in there. Are they still here?’
‘I haven’t seen anyone. Oh!’ A vague memory came back to her. ‘The door banged a little while ago. I saw some men run across to the workshop. That must have been them.’
‘They were probably going to help.’ He nodded with satisfaction. ‘They’ll be safe over there.’
‘What should we do?’
‘Keep away from windows for a start. The storm’s worse than I expected.’
‘Will the boats be all right?’
‘We’ll have to wait and see. There’s nothing we can do about it now.’