A Dangerous Crossing

by Rachel Rhys

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by that. I just can’t understand why he hasn’t returned it to me, that’s all.’

  ‘As far as I can see, there’s only one reason for a man to keep hold of a girl’s personal things. Because he’s sweet on her.’

  Ida smiles out of the side of her mouth and Lily again has the discomfiting notion that she is being asked for a confidence. It’s like an economic transaction. Ida has given her something and now Lily is being asked for something in return. And Lily tries. She really does. But.

  ‘I don’t think that’s the case here.’

  Ida looks disappointed, as if Lily is deliberately shutting her out.

  ‘Don’t forget, Lily, I’ve been around a lot longer than you. I have experience of young men.’

  Lily remembers now about the dead fiancé. She realizes Ida has left the door open for her to ask about him, but she cannot find the right question. She wants to resist the intimacy Ida is trying to force upon her, even while she understands to her shame how lonely the older woman must be to be seeking her out like this.

  ‘I’m sure he’s just forgotten about it, that’s all,’ she says.

  A while later, ensconced on deck, Lily leans back in her chair, letting the sunlight warm her face. Though it’s still hot, the gentle breeze blowing off the ocean makes the temperature bearable, almost pleasant. A few feet away, a middle-aged couple are discussing the possibility of war in low, anxious voices.

  ‘Archie wouldn’t have to go,’ the woman says, ‘not with his eyesight being so bad.’ She pauses. ‘That’s right, isn’t it? They wouldn’t make him go.’

  ‘It won’t come to it,’ the man says. ‘We’ve learned our lessons from what happened the last time.’

  ‘And if it did, Archie would be okay, wouldn’t he? On account of his eyes.’

  Unease brings a bad taste to Lily’s mouth. She thinks about Frank, thinks about how far she will be from home, about her parents with both their children gone. Then she rallies. The noticeboard is still posting news twice a day and usually there is something positive. Hitler is looking for a peaceful solution. A British delegation is even now in Moscow negotiating for an alliance. No one has the appetite or the economic capacity for war.

  ‘Can I sit here?’

  The person standing in front of her is blocking out the sun so at first they appear just a looming black shape against the bright August sky. She blinks and gradually the features define themselves as those of George Price.

  ‘Of course.’

  She says it in a snippy way that makes it clear it is politeness speaking rather than warmth. But still he sits. She tries not to look at his flattened broken nose or the capillaries that have burst like purple fire crackers under the surface of his face.

  ‘I think we should talk about what happened in Aden,’ he says, not really looking at Lily, just at the wooden arms of her chair.

  He has come to apologize, she thinks. And surprise makes her kinder.

  ‘If you wish, George.’

  She sees the Arab boy’s head when it first jerked back, and the curve of his narrow back as he lay on the ground trying to protect himself from George’s kicks.

  ‘You do understand I had no choice. I did it for you.’

  ‘For me?’

  Now Lily turns her eyes to him.

  George nods, violently, so his greased-back hair comes unstuck and falls about his face in lank strands.

  ‘I could see you were being pestered and pawed by those women. I was coming to rescue you but those children wouldn’t let me. They had their hands all over me to stop me coming to you. I had no option.’

  Lily feels light-headed, her mind reeling. That’s not how it was. That’s not how it happened. But when she thinks back to the quayside already the sequence of things is growing blurry around the edges. Surely she was already free of the women by the time she came across George? Surely his arm was already raised and down before he saw her?

  But sand and dust are blowing across the images in her mind, distorting her memories.

  ‘That’s not how I remember it,’ she says.

  ‘It was hot, Lily, and dusty, and there were so many damn people everywhere, and I bet you’d hardly slept. You just got the wrong end of the stick, that’s all.’

  ‘I don’t think so. I’m sure. That is, I’m almost sure –’

  George leaps in quickly.

  ‘Almost. You see.’

  Finally, he raises his sludge-coloured eyes to hers. Enthusiasm has lit up his face, making his heavy, thick features look almost child-like.

  ‘The fact is, Lily, it really isn’t wise for you to be walking around places like that on your own. An Englishwoman abroad, alone, can be a target for these kinds of people.’

  ‘What kind?’

  ‘The kind who have no education or manners, whose parents bring them up knowing only how to scavenge and pester and rob. It’s not really their fault, you see. They have never been taught any better.’

  Lily knows that he is wrong. She thinks back to the scene on the quayside and the woman who’d hurried over to the boy. How she’d raised her arm. Cried out, a mother’s cry. Stop. But George is looking at her, wanting her to agree, his mouth, with its plump, wet lips, open as if to let his unspoken words – You see? Am I right? – fill the space between them. Lily thinks about arguing but loses momentum even before the sentences form in her head. What would be the point? He only sees what he wants to see. And besides, she is now doubting her own recall. The order of things is becoming jumbled in her head. Better to change the subject. Talk about something else.

  ‘Are you excited to be going to New Zealand?’ she asks, remembering that he is on his way to help his uncle run his smallholding.

  The eagerness drains from George’s face, like something drying up and desiccating in the sun.

  ‘No. Why would I want to hide myself away in the godforsaken arse-end of the world? Excuse my language. It’s my father’s doing. He organized it all.’

  ‘But surely you have a say in what happens to you. Couldn’t you say no?’

  George looks down at his thick fingers and Lily sees a purple flush creeping up from his shirt collar.

  ‘You don’t say no to my father,’ he says bitterly. ‘He’s a deputy commissioner in the British Raj.’

  ‘A government official? And he’s sending you to New Zealand so you don’t have to fight in a war?’

  Outrage makes Lily’s voice louder than she intended, and George looks around to see who has heard before turning back to her.

  ‘I am an only child. He does not want my mother upset. If it was up to me, I’d be on the front line.’

  ‘Against the Germans? I thought you admired everything about them.’

  ‘Not everything. And I’m a patriot first.’

  There’s something about George Price that Lily finds terribly disturbing. Something beyond his moist, fleshy lips and his stubby, bitten-down fingernails and the way he seems to wear his anger like an extra layer of clothes.

  It’s his unpredictable volatility. That sudden, terrifying rage. The alarming sense of disconnect between what’s happening around him and his reactions to it.

  ‘Well,’ she says, half standing, ‘I really must be –’

  To her horror, George suddenly grabs hold of her arm with his damp hand, pulling her back down into her chair.

  ‘Do you think you might like me?’ he blurts out.

  ‘Pardon?’ Lily tries to pull her hand away.

  ‘You see, the thing is, Lily, I think you need looking after.’

  Lily opens her mouth to protest, but George talks on over her intaken breath.

  ‘I know what you’re going to say, and it’s true, I don’t think my family, my father, would be much impressed with me consorting with a woman who works in domestic service. But, as you say, I’m a grown man. I make my own decisions.’

  George’s hand is still on her arm, her skin sticky underneath his palm. Shock re
nders her mute, slowing down her thought processes so she struggles to make sense of what has just been said. He is wanting to court her, which, she supposes, must be a compliment, and yet a compliment coated in an insult. His parents would not be impressed. Now it comes. Finally. The anger. Building up from the base of her stomach, spreading, spreading, spreading, through the tightly wound core of her.

  George quickly turns his head, sweeping his eyes around the near-deserted deck. Then, just as Lily is preparing to explode, he leans forward and fixes his mouth on to hers as if he were plunging a sink.

  Oh. But. No. No. His mouth is open like a basking shark, all that hot wetness, his fat tongue trying to prise her lips open.

  Finally, her senses return to her and she tears herself away, gasping for breath.

  ‘I’m sorry if I’ve given you the impression …’ she pants, then stops. Why should she be sorry?

  She feels his saliva still on her mouth and wipes it off with her hand. Sees him notice the gesture and narrow his eyes until they are only slits.

  ‘I’m sure I should be grateful that you would even entertain the thought of … forming an attachment to me. What with me being just a lowly domestic servant and everything. But the fact is I don’t share … that is, I don’t want …’

  Now it is he who is on his feet, his face dark as his shoes, his nostrils flaring.

  ‘You’re a tease. That’s what you are, Lily Shepherd. I’ve met women like you before. All meek-looking and big eyes and “Oh it’s my first time abroad.” And really all you’re doing is looking around to see who you can snare. Bet you think you can do better. Is that it? Don’t hold your breath. You think that gutless Edward will stand up to his family on your behalf? Or maybe you think you can persuade your friend Mr Campbell to leave his wife.’

  Lily gasps and he seems to take that as an acknowledgement that a nerve has been hit. When he starts speaking again he hisses through tight lips.

  ‘You’d better watch yourself with those Campbells. You have no idea what they’re capable of. If you knew what they’d done –’

  ‘If you’re talking about their child, I know all about that.’

  For a second, George falters. Then he is all snarls once again.

  ‘I know nothing about a child. But if you knew the true measure of them, then you’d realize they’re toying with you. You really think he’d look twice at you? You have a very high opinion of yourself.’

  ‘Lily? Is everything all right?’

  Maria has come up behind her, placing her hand on Lily’s shaking shoulders.

  George Price, breathing heavily, flicks his puddle-coloured eyes from one woman to the other.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m going. Just remember, Lily, you need to start choosing your friends more carefully.’

  One more look, dark, as if all this were an illusion: the sunshine glinting on the water, the brave blue sky stretching in all directions as far as the eye can see, the sound of children’s laughter drifting from the swimming pool. All of it a dream that the breeze whipped up and the only reality is George with his bitterness and his rage. And then he is gone. Turned on his heel and walking fast and furious along the deck, his shoulders hunched, head down. Passengers strolling in the other direction move fractionally to the side as he passes, as though afraid of catching something, some germs of ill temper.

  Lily sinks back into her deckchair. Maria crouches down by her side.

  ‘Has he upset you, Lily? What happened?’

  It comes back to Lily now, the kiss, his mouth opening on to hers like he would suck her into him. For a moment, she feels as if she might be sick and again rubs vigorously at her mouth with the back of her hand.

  She tells Maria what has happened, and Maria is horrified.

  ‘Will you report him?’

  An uneasy silence falls between them now as Lily thinks about what happened when Maria reported her attack and then wonders if Maria is thinking the same thing.

  ‘No. I will just try to keep out of his way.’

  She strives to sound matter-of-fact and hopes Maria cannot tell how the thought of sharing a table three times a day with George Price and all his intensity fills her with dread.

  18

  16 August 1939

  THIS EVENING THERE’S to be a gala ball. The passengers, bored after days of one another’s company, seize upon the distraction like seagulls around a crust of bread.

  All day there are excited whispers and conversations. Women troop in and out of each other’s cabins, trying on dresses. Most of them have only brought one trunk with them and are conscious that their evening gowns have already been aired numerous times. The deck resounds with ‘My blue shoes will go wonderfully with your taffeta’ and ‘This corsage of roses is just the thing for your yellow silk.’ Even the men seem caught up in the excitement, fussing around, making sure white ties are starched and black tails are clean.

  Only Lily is subdued. She hardly slept the night before, despite the improvement in the weather. Whenever she closed her eyes she felt George’s mouth on hers and snapped them back open.

  Is he right? she found herself thinking. Am I a tease?

  It is not the first time that accusation has been levelled at her.

  She remembers lying with Robert after dark on a deserted park lawn, kissing as if they would die if they stopped, hardly knowing where her body ended and his began, feeling his fingers working at the tops of her stockings. Wanting. But not wanting. Not like this. Not in the park. ‘It’s all right, Lily. I’ll be careful. I know how.’ And that being enough to make her pull away, straightening her clothes. He knew how because he’d done it before. She wasn’t the first. How did she know she would be the last? ‘I love you, Lily. I want to marry you.’ But something holding her back. Something making her sit up straight, repinning her hair. And him, furious now. ‘You’re a tease, Lily. That’s all. Well, if you won’t, I’ll find someone who will.’

  Useless to tell him she did want him, just not like that, not there.

  ‘I’ve been patient, God knows. But as soon as I ask you to do something for me you close up like a bloody nun. A man can only take so much rejection. I’m off to find someone honest. Someone prepared to finish what they start.’

  And the person he’d found was Mags. Her Mags. Old enough now to turn heads as she walked but still too young to know how to say no to the boss’s son.

  Helena finds Lily standing at the railing, gazing down into the foam-tipped waves churned up in the ship’s wake.

  ‘You’re not thinking of jumping in, are you?’ Helena jokes. ‘We missed you at breakfast.’

  ‘I wasn’t very hungry.’

  Lily hadn’t wanted to see George so she’d given the dining room a wide berth. As a long-term strategy, she knows this is flawed. She has to eat sometime, after all.

  ‘Your Mr Jones not with you?’

  Helena blushes.

  ‘He certainly isn’t my Mr Jones.’

  ‘Come on, Helena. You’d have to be blind not to see that he worships the ground you walk on.’

  ‘Lily. It’s not as simple as you think.’

  ‘Because you’re still thinking of the other one? Your lost fiancé?’

  A shake of the head. Vehement.

  ‘You know, I haven’t thought about him in days. I can honestly say I think I’m over him now.’

  ‘So why not give Ian a chance? You two seem to get along so well.’

  ‘Maybe that’s true while we’re on board. But.’

  ‘But?’

  ‘Oh, Lily, you must see that it’s impossible long-term. He left school at fourteen. He worked in the outback cutting cane and doing goodness knows what else. My parents would never hear of it.’

  ‘Helena, your parents are thousands of miles away. How will they even know?’

  ‘Lily, you don’t understand. They’ve written to say that they’re coming to Australia, just as soon as they tie up some loose ends in England. And we rely on them, Edward and I. W
e don’t have any income of our own. Not since Edward’s illness. Anyway, Ian and I are from two different worlds. Maybe it would do for an onboard romance, but there can’t be any future in it.’

  Lily listens with growing frustration. Here it is. Just as Maria warned her. The real reason Edward seems to blow hot and then cold. She isn’t good enough. Their parents would be appalled. Maybe she, too, would do for a shipboard romance, but nothing more. To her horror she feels hot tears building behind her eyes.

  ‘It’s a wonder why we bother, then, any of us,’ she says, ‘forming friendships with people who we would never speak to in normal life. Maybe we should all just keep ourselves to ourselves.’

  And she turns away in the direction of the cabins, leaving Helena gazing after her, open-mouthed.

  Lily skips lunch as well, prevailing on her cabin steward to bring her a sandwich instead, which she eats in a deckchair tucked away at the far end of the deck, scribbling in her diary, which she has neglected in recent days. In the afternoon Edward comes to find her.

  ‘Helena said you were out of sorts this morning. I’m worried about you.’

  ‘Well, you needn’t worry. I’m just enjoying a little quiet time, that’s all.’

  Immediately, she regrets her harsh tone. It’s not his fault. Edward looks hurt. Stands up, not knowing what to do with his hands.

  ‘In that case –’

  ‘No, please sit down, Edward. I’m sorry. I’m in a strange mood.’

  She considers telling him about George Price but thinks better of it. The last thing she needs is Edward challenging George about it, further fanning the fire, when all she wants to do is forget it ever happened. Besides, she would not feel comfortable talking to Edward about kissing, not with the scene at the Pyramids so fresh in her mind.

  ‘We’re halfway through the voyage,’ she says. ‘I think it’s just dawning on me that all this will come to an end, and then what? Back to domestic service. I really thought I’d left that part of my life behind.’

  ‘Surely there are other jobs you could do? You’re so clever, Lily. You could do anything.’

  She longs to ask him. The words fizz on her tongue. Would it make a difference? If I was in some other less shameful occupation, could you? Would you? It even crosses her mind to tell him of her aspiration to be a writer, as if her dreams alone might elevate her. But of course she does not. Instead she tells him about the other jobs she has done in the past. The clerical office work she did in Reading after she left Robert’s parents’ employ. Then the move to London and the waitressing. The long hours on her feet, and the late buses home. She tells him about the scholarship to the girls’ school and how she’d had to leave to help support her family. She tries not to be sentimental or self-pitying. It’s important to her that he should not pity her, nor think badly of her family for expecting her to contribute to the household expenses.