by Jack Dey
“If I could, my lady, but as such a preposterous imagining is impossible, it is only correct for you to rise up to the challenge of your station yourself and prove yourself worthy of the life that many covet.”
“What if I told you I am planning to leave the vessel and my father at the next port?” Katrina rolled off the bunk and onto her feet to give greater emphasis to her statement.
Tess stood with her mouth hanging open in shock, flabbergasted at her charge's confession. She met the eyes of Katrina and stuttered, “W..what?”
“I intend to give my father the slip and go in search of adventure wherever it leads me,” Katrina danced around the room.
“My lady, this is a very unwise plan. These ports are full of men of bad intention and it would quickly slurry your reputation forever, beyond retrieval. Your father would disown you and your life would be difficult beyond your wildest imagining. Not to mention my predicament. I would never find work again as a lady-in-waiting,” Tess exclaimed, horrified at the naive plan.
“I don’t care! I have had enough of being a wallflower at my father’s beckoning. I want to taste adventure and the scents of a new life,” Katrina’s eyes sparkled in a faraway fire.
“What if those scents turn out to be a vile smell, my lady?” Tess quickly retorted, trying to talk Katrina out of her latest endeavour at contemptuousness.
Katrina paused her dancing in mid twirl and glared directly at Tess. “I will not get into too much trouble, Tess. You will be there to guide me.”
Tess was speechless, caught in a no-win situation. If she refused to go, Katrina would decline her continuing employment and she would be dismissed; but if she did go, the duke would hold her responsible and she would be dismissed with no letter of recommendation and then she wouldn’t be able to find work ever again. If she tried to explain Katrina’s plan to the duke, Katrina would deny it and the duke would dismiss her for an improper allegation against a lady. If she did go and Katrina got into trouble and was injured in any way, the law would most likely hold her responsible and put her in jail. Tess was in a real quandary and the spoilt young woman she had accompanied for so many years was about to ruin her own life and Tess’ too, but good.
Katrina stared at Tess, amused, watching a myriad of emotions scroll across her face.
Angry about being backed into a corner, Tess came to her decision and spoke, hoping not to be accused of speaking out of turn. “My lady, if you are intent on ruining your life—and mine—then I have no choice but to try and keep you alive and from injury. You will see that the world is not a playground and that your father has less influence than you expect; and even if he is still willing, he will not be able to save you from your adventures.”
Katrina’s face dropped at Tess’ speech. “Come on, Tess, don’t be such a prude and a wet blanket. Nothing is going to happen to us and even if we do get into a situation, your assessment is wrong. Just the mention of my father’s name and the fact that I am his daughter will release us from trouble... you will see.” And with that reassurance, Katrina began to plan her escape from the Riviera in detail.
With full knowledge of Katrina’s scheme, Tess was nervous every time she entered into the duke's presence, expecting to be found out at any stage and dismissed, being put ashore without passage back home.
If the duke could lift his hand against his own daughter, what would he do to her?
*~*~*~*
Lewis’ time in port was sculptured to a fine edge. Every moment was planned so the next port would fit neatly into the duke's timetable and his trade mission would reach as many of the country's gentry as possible, scheduling meetings with prominent people the whole time they were at anchor. The captain needed to take on fresh supplies, tend to the needs of passengers and his vessel, as well as keeping track of excursions ashore engaged by the wandering privileged and making sure no one was left behind. He also had a meeting with maritime authorities and was keen to keep his appointment, still seething at the cutter captain’s lack of seamanship and wanting the dubious captain’s master's certificate revoked, a fitting punishment for such a reckless act.
As the Riviera sailed gracefully into port, a loud blast from her foghorn announced their arrival and many coveting eyes watched the fine vessel dock, but such a fine vessel seemed out of place in the crowded workaday harbour. The luxury vessel’s captain skilfully orchestrated their berthing between two cargo ships, while crew members ran around in organised chaos until the vessel had been safely tethered to the dock. Moments later, gangways were attached to the Riviera in three places along the vessel’s length, allowing the ambling gentry convenient access to solid ground.
While eager passengers strolled down the forward gangways in an excited mass, two slight and peculiarly dressed men stole off the aft access, carrying a bag each and hurriedly disappeared, unnoticed into the dockside rabble.
*~*~*~*
Chapter 11
Finding an uncluttered place kneeling beside his desk, Smiley’s skinny fingers danced over his computer keyboard, the keys clacking in time with the speed of his practised hands. Pausing and waiting expectantly for the computer to catch up, respond to his demands and open his email account, eventually the page launched, displaying a sea of unopened mail. Skimming a list of 5,000 new emails, combined with a sundry list of 10,000 pending responses, Smiley conceded it was possibly time to clean out his files and allow the struggling machine some much needed breathing space.
Pushing a large pile of dirty washing—filed on the least cluttered chair and marked pending—onto the floor, Smiley sidled his lanky physique into the seat and dragged the chair up to the desk, skipping the chair along the floor with his legs to make the final adjustments against the table’s frame. With the washing tangled around the chair leg and trapping his foot, Smiley conceded his apartment looked like a Chinese laundry after a bomb had gone off, making another mental note: clean up apartment... someday soon!
Skimming a list of the latest emails, Smiley’s interest lay with one particular epistle and it took some anxious searching to eventually find what he was looking for. Finally, the cursor settled over the coveted title: World Survey of Lands and Titles with a portion of the message plainly visible in the subject line. Hello, Smiley. In response to your enquiry... With a click of the mouse, the message struggled open and displayed in plain view.
Hello, Smiley.
In response to your enquiry, we have searched our extensive database and have come up with no cross matches to the name Contention Island. These types of names were popular in the sixteenth and seventeenth century with explorers who appeared to name land masses after a dilemma or a person of less than agreeable association. We have also checked fifteen languages in case the island had been named in another language.
As mentioned, the accuracy of our search is directly proportional to the donation you leave. If, however, you require any greater expansion to the depth of search, I direct your attention to the link of our website and in particular, to the donate button at the bottom of the page.
Thank you for using World Survey of Lands and Titles. I hope we can be of further assistance to you in the future.
Grumbling to himself and stabbing the delete button with furious candour, Smiley had received exactly what he was expecting and wasted hard earned money into the bargain. Now he would have to do things the hard way if he was going to crack this riddle for Brett and start at grass roots, right back at the beginning. So much for a quick answer!
Scratching his head and fumbling for a place to start, Smiley pushed back the chair, almost losing his footing on a tangle of laundry, then stepping over items of dubious origin piled up in any available space, he meandered until he found a window and gazed out across the apartment complex’s parking lot.
“So, what do I have so far?” Smiley whispered, following the ancient steps of the gardener wheeling an equally ancient wheelbarrow. “The name, Contention Island, which just didn’t seem to exist. The woman in t
he dream named Katie... that narrows it down to about 50 million people...! Rebecca Redden, Brett’s wife and Brett’s mother-in-law, Emma Forest. And that about wraps up all the info I have,” Smiley rubbed his hands over his head in frustration. “I knew I should have listened to my mother and become a shrink instead of a snoop.”
Finding the least bridled path back to his computer, Smiley absentmindedly typed Emma Forest into a search engine, not expecting to find any relevant results to come up. A list of Emma Forests appeared, but checking down the list revealed nothing of significance. Then he typed in Rebecca Redden and was led directly to Becky’s Facebook page and her account was asking for a friend's request before allowing him access. Feeling awkward and like he was trespassing, Smiley pushed the escape key and backed out of the search engine altogether.
"This is going to be harder than I thought," Smiley mumbled to himself. "I need to get inside the courthouse and rat through the records on Emma Forest and Rebecca Redden. Maybe, just maybe, there’s a clue in there somewhere to the history of these two ladies. Who do I know in the courthouse who owes me...? Charlie Timms...! Come to papa!"
Held against his ear, Smiley’s smartphone rang insistently until a bored sounding woman answered, “Courthouse, how may I direct your call?”
“Yes, hello, I would like to speak to Charlie Timms, please.”
“I am sorry, Mr Timms is unavailable at present. Please try again later,” ...click.
Smiley eyes crossed in rage as he stared at the phone and the abruptly disconnected line, knowing the woman hadn’t even tried to locate Charlie and had just brushed him off to get rid of him. Well, if the guard dog won’t put me through to Charlie, then I’m just going to have to bypass the guard dog and find Charlie myself!
*~*~*~*
Rounding a corner into the courthouse, Smiley skipped the entry steps leading into the foyer, two at a time. As he entered reception, he peered across to a woman with a bored voice sitting behind a desk and answering the phone.
“I am sorry, Mr Morris isn’t in. Please try again later," ...click.
Devising a tricky scheme to outfox the guard dog, Smiley suddenly recognised the person of interest escaping the building and walking directly toward him. Before Charlie Timms had time to recognise trouble in its keenest form and take evasive action, Smiley had him surrounded.
“Charlie, old friend.”
Charlie panicked and looked for an escape route.
“Come on, Charlie, that’s not nice, trying to run away from an old friend.”
“That, I hope, is a loose description of our relationship, Smiley. Last time I heard you using that term directed at me, I nearly lost my job.”
“Yeah, but I did take the rap for it and painted you as the hero.”
“What do you want, Smiley? I have to be somewhere,” Charlie complained impatiently.
“I need access to some files,” Smiley replied expecting a no answer.
“You know I’m not allowed to give you access to personal files with all the privacy laws.”
“Come on, Charlie, you know those laws are a load of garbage, or do I have to call in a favour?”
Charlie appeared worried. Smiley’s favours were even more costly than his friendship. "Look, I can get you into the library and after that, you are on your own. If you get caught, I don’t know you, okay?”
“I won’t get caught, Charlie.”
“Yeah, that’s what you said last time and it cost me three hundred bucks to bail you out... which reminds me... you haven’t paid me back!”
Smiley reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. “I've got five bucks and... three bucks in change.”
Charlie knew money liked Smiley less than he did and tried everything possible to keep away from him. Taking the opportunity to regain even the smallest amount of money Smiley owed him, Charlie snatched the five dollar note out of Smiley’s hand. “You can keep the coins!”
“That was my last fiver until payday, Charlie. I was going to buy my mother some flowers.”
“You couldn’t have a mother, Smiley!”
“Okay, take the money. How do I get into the library?” Smiley glanced around to see who was watching.
“Meet me back here in fifteen minutes and I will walk you in.”
“Just like that, past the guard dog and all!”
“Just like that. But don’t wait around here. Someone will get suspicious,” Charlie warned.
The two men then separated and walked out of the courthouse as if they were going in different directions.
Smiley watched the courthouse from the coffee shop across the road and managed to talk the waitress into giving him a five dollar coffee for the three dollars in change he had left. Draining the remains of the liquid and placing the cup back on the table, Smiley soon recognised Charlie’s stride returning along the sidewalk and made a move to join him. Eyeing the reporter suspiciously and disappointed he hadn’t shaken Smiley off, Charlie walked up to the front of the courthouse with Smiley close on his heels.
“Most of the librarians are on a rostered day off today, therefore you’ll be undisturbed if you stay inside the library and keep out of sight. The library is locked at 5pm, so you’ll need to be finished by then. There’s an emergency exit door at the back of the library that’s self-locking from the inside and will offer you a perfect means of escape. It’s alarmed when the library closes, so you can’t use that door after five, understand?”
Smiley nodded. He was unsure whether all the instructions had sunk in but it was too late for a recap as Charlie began walking into the building and straight past the receptionist guard dog. Acting suspiciously by trying not to act suspiciously, the receptionist eyed Smiley, making him feel uncomfortable and certain she would call his bluff at any moment, pouncing on him, but she appeared to be too comfortable and seemed to be content to follow him with her eyes instead.
“Thanks, Charlie. I will strike off all the remaining favours you owe me for this.”
“What remaining favours?!” Charlie huffed and pointed to the library door, then kept walking to another part of the building.
Smiley pushed the green opaque glass door open, clandestinely searching the rows of cabinets lined up in the large room for anyone who looked official. Convinced he was alone, he found a working computer sitting on a desk and quickly began searching the database. Figuring Emma Forest would be his best bet, Smiley’s fingers flashed across the keyboard and the computer responded immediately, quickly identifying Emma Eileen Forest and gave a location for her file. He found a pen in his coat pocket and wrote the location on the back of his hand, but it took Smiley a while to work out the numbering system and after a frenzied search he located her cabinet. Probing through the myriad of F's, he eventually found what he was looking for. Withdrawing the file and quickly reading: date of birth, date of marriage and then... he stopped, rereading the sentence again.
“Oh, man! This is not good. I bet Brett has no idea of this.”
*~*~*~*
Chapter 12
Marguerite’s first day had been quite enjoyable, interacting well with the customers after a shaky beginning when she had handed back too much change. Mr Lieberman noticed immediately the heavy makeup and the blackened eye she was trying to hide, just barely visible behind the painted mask. Feeling disturbed at the beginning, the old man watched Marguerite like a hawk, but by the end of the day, everyone had settled into their new routine.
Marguerite couldn’t understand why some of the women customers were a little flippant with her and kept looking past the counter and out the back, but her understanding soon matured when she saw Majiv walk past and witnessed the unabashed flirting coming from women old enough to know better. At first, Marguerite hadn’t noticed the shy and attractive Majiv, because she had enough to contend with at the moment and besides, she doubted he would be interested in soiled goods. A cold shiver ran up and down her back as she contemplated the meaning of her own thoughts.
&n
bsp; Marguerite had been in love for the first time and Robbie had promised her the world, full of undying devotion. Feeling secure in his love, she had been seduced into giving him more than her heart and once he’d found out she was pregnant with his child, he had beaten her and told her to leave. Now she was in a great quandary, but she was certain of how her father would react to her pregnancy and the fact she was unmarried. She decided her only chance at survival for her and her baby was to simply vanish out of harm’s way, with this bakery job her ticket to survival, doing whatever she needed to keep it.
*~*~*~*
The late afternoon air was heavy with winter’s charm as the days grew shorter and when Mr Lieberman pulled the bakery door shut and locked it, the sun was already retiring to bed. With Marguerite, Majiv and Mr Lieberman standing on the sidewalk, Mr Lieberman asked Marguerite if she had a long way to travel to get home.
She stuttered at the question and it took her off guard. “U..uh, home... um, no, I just live d..down the block.”
But she seemed uncertain about which way to go.
Stashing her suitcase in the alley beside the bakery before starting work, Marguerite was just waiting for the two men to leave before retrieving it, having no idea where she was going to stay the night and the prospect of living on the street frightened her. She was already cold and looked away, hoping the old man couldn’t read the fear in her eyes.
Mr Lieberman spoke softly, suspecting what was taking place. “Why don’t you go and fetch your suitcase, Marguerite, and follow us home. We have a spare bed in Katarzyna’s room and I am sure she will not mind a roommate.”
Marguerite stood openmouthed, staring at the old man. ”H..how did you know?”
“You are trying to hide a black eye and you don’t seem to know where your home is. I was suspicious and I had a look around and saw your suitcase in the alley and that confirmed it. I see the fear in your eyes, the fear I have seen many times when people are being brutalised by their authority figures and forced from their homes. Majiv, go and get Marguerite's suitcase from the alley so we can go home, please.”
