by Clive Hindle
They made their way on deck where it quickly became clear that strolling wasn’t an option. Dozens of Filipinos were bedded down for the night on their flimsy hammocks. “I get it now,” Jack said, “first class means you’re under cover. My but this shipping line believes in packing them in. It’s worse than the Bigg Market of a Friday night.”
They threaded their way gingerly between the prone bodies and got to the stern of the boat where they stared at the white wake as the vessel ploughed its way through the darkness of the Indian Ocean. “So you were going to just walk away without so much as a goodbye?” she asked, leaning up against him so that he could smell her perfume mingled with the natural fragrance of her warm body.
“Yeah, well I wasn’t really thinking about anyone else after I found Amie dead – “
“What?” Diana exclaimed.
He turned and looked at her. Could it be she didn’t know? Then he thought, why should she? It wouldn’t have been any big deal in the press back in Hong Kong and it probably wouldn’t even ripple into the European community. “Did you not know? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound callous.” He quickly explained the events, which had preceded his departure from Hong Kong. Diana held her hand over her mouth in horror. It was funny but he’d never appreciated that she would feel like that about her fellow human beings. He’d seen her as reared in a school of hard knocks where you were too busy riding your own to worry about anyone else’s.
“I had no idea,” Diana said. “I can’t believe it. I knew Amie quite well because of Gerry but she was always in his corner so we didn’t exactly hit it off big time. Who’d want to kill her though? Was it just an opportunist crime?”
Jack’s face turned grim. His mouth set and his blue eyes had a steely glint as he replied, “I’m not sure but I’d better warn you, I’m not the safest guy to be travelling with.”
“You?” Diana responded incredulously. “Why on earth should anyone want to hurt you?”
“Oh, come on, don’t you think your boss could answer that one?”
“K.K? Well, he’s mentioned you and your connection with Gerry but he’s never given me the impression that…” Her voice trailed away as her brain began to catch up with it.
“That’s it. I’m afraid it has something to do with Gerry. The Triads seem to think he left me something before he disappeared.”
“And did he?”
Jack shrugged, “Not that I know of. Mr. Ma told me it could be something I don’t know I’ve got. It could even be something in my mind, something he told me when he spoke to me and needed money.”
“Gerry borrowed cash from you?” Diana spoke as if all this news at once was too much to take in.
“Fifty grand,” Jack replied. Again a despondent tone had entered his voice.
“Phew!” Diana exclaimed. “Are you talking sterling?”
“Too right I am. If it was funny money I wouldn’t be so upset but it’s big ones all right.”
“I always said you were a mug,” she laughed, digging him slyly in the ribs.
“Thanks a lot, that makes me feel a whole bunch better.”
“It’s only money. “Easy come, easy go.”
“Less of the easy come. Worked for every penny I did. Sweat of the brow.”
“Yeah! Pull the other one. Anyway, look on the bright side, you’re out here. That’s got to be a plus.”
“You’re dead right. Just got to avoid the Red Poles. Your boss was supposed to sort those guys out.” He could see that once again she was surprised so he explained what had happened to him in England, leaving out the information about Amie’s presence, because he still hadn’t figured that one out, and then the coincidence of the successive attacks in Hong Kong, culminating in her death.
“Unbelievable!” Diana said at length.
“So you see why I’m not exactly the safest travelling companion at the moment?”
Diana leaned over him and he could smell the sweetness of her breath. “I always had a sense of adventure, Jack. Never did like boring men.” After an hour or so during which he got to liking her better they went back down below and found Goff, dressed only in his underpants, on his bunk reading a catalogue. Diana didn’t ask them to turn away as she got changed. She turned her back on them, slipped out of her jeans and t shirt. Jack pretended to look away but he couldn’t really take his eyes off the creamy skin of her back and the hour-glass flare of her hips. When she climbed up to the top bunk, his mouth went dry as the muscles rippled. Silently he sighed with thwarted animal desire. Goff was more forthcoming. He got out of his cot and heaved himself up so his face was next to her shoulder. “Hey Di,” he said, nuzzling the back of her head.
“Yeah.” She didn’t even turn over.
“Do you fancy a shag?”
“No thanks.”
“Well do you mind lying down while I have one?”
“Fuck off.”
Goff sighed and let himself back down. He held out his hands to Jack as he crossed back over and heaved himself up on to the bunk above. “A man’s gotta give it his best shot.” Meanwhile, all Jack could do was burn for her body too and hate himself for it. Long after the breathing had evened itself out on both sides of the cabin he lay awake, thinking about his life and how kind of worthless it seemed now as if he had done nothing with it. With that thought he fell into a deep sleep.
CHAPTER 3
When he woke up the next morning Diana was sitting doing her hair, her legs dangling over the bunk. Goff was snoring quietly in the bunk above his. He shook himself awake so she looked in his direction. "What time do we dock in Cebu?" he asked.
She looked at his watch over his shoulder, "About two hours I'd say."
"I think I'll just take a stroll on deck," he said.
A few moments later she had donned her jeans and t shirt and followed him up. “You‘re right,” she said. He looked at her quizzically. “I did always have terrible taste in men." The sun was well up. The deck was crammed with Filipinos but all their cots had been miraculously stowed away in nooks and crannies. She let it hang there but when he didn’t respond she added, “I get the impression with you things might have been different?”
“Long time ago.”
“I know but I want to tell you I felt it as soon as we met. I was scared of it. I walked away. Call me stupid but there it is.”
It was the slightest brush of a kiss at first and then something much more passionate so that when they parted there were some catcalls behind them and they turned to see a couple of Filipino workmen grinning widely. Jack waved good-naturedly and the pair broke into enthusiastic applause. They kept their distance after that, leaning over the boat rail and talking about how their lives had been up to now. The time flew by until, “Hey, facking hell," an Australian voice exclaimed, "have you guys noticed this boat is full of facking gooks!" Jack looked up to heaven.
An hour later the boat was about to dock in Cebu City and would berth there for three hours before setting off for Zamboanga. That gave him time to make some enquiries about whether Gerry had stayed over. He didn’t want to be saddled with Goff and he was thinking how to get rid of him but he needn’t have bothered. The Australian was of the same mind. "I think I might have a deal going down," he said, "catch you later back at the boat! What time do we ship outa here?"
"Two thirty," Diana replied.
"Bags of time!” With a wave he was gone, running with antipodean urgency down the gangplank, as if the world might end before he could move on the blood diamonds. He picked up one of the taxis waiting by the quayside.
"The boat sails at two," Jack reminded her.
"You’re kidding!" she replied, and she gave a poor impression of trying to catch Goff’s attention. "Damn!" she said with a mischievous smile, "he's gone.”
Their enquiries at the shipping office came to nothing and they walked across to Fort San Pedro at a loose end. The city was small, dusty and utterly impoverished and Jack couldn’t wait for the ferry to sail. He was despond
ent, wondering if he’d ever get the answers he was looking for. Quitting the Fort they walked up to the San Miguel brewery and along Colon Street (named after Christopher Columbus, or so the sign said) towards the site of the old China town. Stopping at the bazaar, Diana reacted unself-consciously as local women paraded around her to get a closer look at her hair. One was brave enough to touch it and, as soon as she did, she was surrounded by smiling locals, queuing up for their opportunity. She took it all in her stride as Jack stood back and basked in the reflected glory of his companion. Then shouts of glee attracted his attention. He tapped Diana on the shoulder and pointed towards a colonial style building across the dusty street. She managed to drag herself away from the curious spectators and they headed for what looked like a taverna. It turned out to be the local equivalent of a casino. Once inside, they found themselves in a hubbub of activity. The crowds were not congregated at the bar and it was easy to get served. They sipped cold beers and ventured into the garish throng heaving and pushing in the centre of the room. It quickly became clear that the main attraction was a cock fight. Jack nodded across to the other side. Goff was sitting on the bleachers, urging on one of the gamecocks. The two creatures circled each other warily, each armed with a cockspur taped to the foot. Jack’s immediate sensation was of morbid fascination but Diana had seen enough and she grabbed hold of his hand and they heaved themselves back through the throng. There was always someone jostling to take their place.
Outside they picked up a taxi for the quay where they boarded the boat. They stood on deck watching the hustle and bustle. "Pity," she said at last, "Goff's not here," and she linked arms. They watched anxiously along the shoreline as the boat cast off. "He’s the type who arrives at the last minute, don't worry," she added, "he'll be here soon."
The boat was a good fifty metres offshore when a taxi screamed to a halt on the quayside and out jumped an irate Australian. "Facking bring the facking boat back here!" he shouted. Diana waved to him from the stern rail as he jumped up and down on the shore. “Facking hell," he raved. "Get the skipper to turn the facking boat round!" She cocked an ear in his direction as if she had difficulty hearing. Soon he was a diminutive figure jumping up and down on the quay and cursing like a barrow boy. They were both laughing but might have thought of the old adage that you should be careful what you wish for.
The old tramp steamer seemed to have taken on even more passengers in Cebu. Jack watched with fascination as they prepared food on deck on tiny paraffin stoves. It was like a concert. This was probably a regular run for most of them. Work was scarce outside the big cities and many of these had done their stint and were on their way home. Despite the overcrowding everything was done in a communal spirit. He was moved to ponder that, if you crammed the residents of a council estate back home into that small space and asked them to get on with each other, you would soon have a riot on your hands. There would be blood everywhere. The thing about the east was, no matter the privations, the disease, the overcrowding, they had retained a sense of community.
In the meantime the wind had got up and the previously blue skies had given way to scudding cloud. Jack’s sailing experience had taught him enough about the signs to be able to make predictions. "I think it's going to blow a bit tonight." He asked a couple of the crew what the forecast was but they shrugged and passed by. The skipper must have made this run several times and it was unlikely he'd have put to sea if dangerous weather was forecast but the sky had turned slate-grey in mere moments and the anvil shape of the massing cloud told him the sudden drop in visibility to the south wasn't fog. He didn't say anything to Diana but they were heading into a storm.
The boat was struggling against a sea running in harness with the wind and was pitching and rolling as darkness fell. Diana felt queasy. Jack had some whisky in his bag and that settled her stomach. He told her to lie down and added, “The quicker we get to Zamboanga the better. This is a journey best slept through.” She nodded and headed towards the hatch. Jack cast a glance back over his shoulder at the gathering storm and braced himself as the boat crashed up against a bow wave, shuddered to a stop, then, as if sprung from a trap, plunged down into the trough. The bow smashed down and the metal groaned. Frightened faces stared out of hammocks. This time, when the bow dipped, the water poured aboard. Jack skipped over the step and went down the hatch, glad he wasn't on deck.
Diana was already in the top bunk. Jack settled into the opposite lower bunk again and she made no move. Soon the drone of the engines and the pitching of the vessel lulled him into a troubled sleep in which he had another dream. The weather was bad; the trees were bent almost double by a ferocious wind; the blast ripped the roof off an apartment block and masonry rained about Jack’s head. He put up an arm to protect himself as debris hurtled out of the darkness. The sky was black and thick as tar; hailstones peppered him and then suddenly there in the eye it was calm and warm; the wind screamed in a circle, filled with maddened faces, like all the denizens of hell. They rushed around, snaking towards him then slipping away again. In the centre was a man with a gun and, behind him, Peter, who put his finger to his lips and beckoned. He bade Jack follow him, away from the gunman. Jack did as he asked but Peter disappeared through the wall of wind. It looked solid but he just dematerialised into it. Jack tried to follow but he couldn't. The gunman was taking an interest now. Jack hammered on the wind-wall. The gunman raised his gun. A door opened in the wind and then it ripped off its hinges and flew at Jack. He raised an arm to ward it off and woke up. From the dim light he saw the cabin door had blown open. It must have sprung with the movement of the boat. It flew back and forth and he could hear the eerie wind in the passage. Something was wrong. He got up. "What is it?" Diana asked groggily.
"Wait there," he said, "I'm going up on deck."
"Don't be long," she replied, "this is scary."
The ship was tossing around like a cork and he had difficulty making it up because of water pouring down. On deck he found mayhem. Sailors were rushing around battening down hatches, securing anything loose. Wide-eyed Filipinos in their hammocks looked as if they were staring death in the face. Jack grabbed hold of an officer. "What's going on?" The man was barely rational. He looked at his wits' end. "She's overloaded isn't she?" The sailor nodded, still unable to speak, the fear gripping his tongue. Jack rushed down to the cabin and grabbed hold of Diana. "Get whatever's most valuable," he said, "leave the rest. I mean that. Jettison everything. Keep something warm to wear and your cash and cards."
She looked at him wide-eyed with terror. "What's going on, Jack?"
"The boat's overloaded," he replied, "they've crammed too many on. She's listing to starboard."
"Oh my God!" she replied, "Will it sink?"
"She might turn turtle, and there won't be much warning. Just grab what you need and follow me."
Moments later they were on deck. The typhoon, which had been hanging around the South China Sea for weeks, had finally broken up and spawned a dozen smaller, more isolated, storms. The blessing that the mother never hit land was only worth having if you weren't in the path of one of her progeny. The sea was a wall of grey water, rearing up and curling over with white foam at the apex, building as it moved closer and then crashing on the bow of the beleaguered vessel, forcing her down into deeper and deeper troughs. It was like going round a whirlpool, each time disappearing further and further into the vortex. Jack pinned Diana up against a mast and then clung on to it for dear life. She won't survive this, he was thinking but he didn’t want to say it. He watched almost mesmerised as a wave crashed against the bow and the ship lurched to a halt as if it had run into a dyke. Moments later it was released and surged upwards only to be struck by another wave, this time on the port side, so she heeled to starboard. He felt the sickening lurch and gave her minutes only. He heard the tell-tale groans of the welded hull as she began to stretch at the seams. He grabbed an officer and said, "Get the lifeboats down!" The Officer looked at Jack astonished, his eyes rolling,
and then he seemed to understand what Jack was saying and nodded. "Where are they, man?" Jack shouted to him, and with Diana in pursuit they rushed to the stern where the sailor began to release the boats.
"Don't free them off, don't, not yet!" Jack shouted above the storm, and the activity seemed to centre the sailor’s mind because he was suddenly in control. He was following a drill. Other sailors came to join him and suddenly there were four lifeboats hovering above the water waiting to be cut free. Jack forced Diana into one of the boats.
“No!” she exclaimed, “I’d rather take my chance with you!”
“Get in,” he said, “It’ll make the other women and the kids follow. Do what I say!” He was right. A steady stream of passengers followed Diana's example. They were safer in the life craft. Those boats would bob like corks in the rough swell whereas the ship was not long for the surface world. The exodus increased. The ruse had worked. The crew, who had behaved in an orderly, even heroic, manner, began to follow at the command of the captain. Jack was helping people over the side, supervising life vests for the youngest ones because there weren‘t enough to go around. No one seemed to be pushing him to the boats and, although he caught a glimpse of Diana looking up anxiously as her boat filled and was cut away, he was working with a calm and detachment he scarcely knew he possessed. Soon there were only a few left on board and the wind was howling as if affronted by their resistance. As a man will stalk an insect pest until he kills it, simply because it has irritated him, this weather had developed a will of its own, an implacable, unconscious urge to destroy.
