Angelique

by Carl Leckey

  The mate laughs before enlightening us. “Goodness gracious me no Mr Bailey! An engine on Albatross? I don’t think so that is strictly to drive the capstan to weigh the anchor and power the derrick winches in the ports that have no cranes to work cargo.”

  Gunter remarks admiringly. “For a ship of her age she is in remarkably good condition isn’t she?” The Mate replies. “Yes that’s down to the Captain and his family.

  She has been owned since new by the Christiansen family.” I ask. “I thought the Captain referred to shareholders in a conversation we had?” He explains. “The family are the share holders. The present Captain Christiansen is the third generation to command the Albatross.

  We had her sixtieth birthday party as we crossed the line outward bound.”

  He further informs us. “That there young chap seated opposite you?” He glares at the Cadet in a friendly manner. “If he behaves himself, completes his studies, passes his exams and becomes half the seaman his Father is, will one day be seated at the end of this table as the next generation of Christiansen’s to command this here ship.” The Cadet blushes.

  The Captain returns and explains “We are in the proximity of the Scilly Isles, a dangerous location for a sailing ship. I have shortened sail. In my estimation taking the usual factors into account I hope to be landing you Gentlemen at Saint Margaret’s Bay about nine or ten o’clock in the morning of Christmas Eve. After dinner cigars are distributed and smoked, shortly afterwards the Captain and the officers make their excuses and leave Gunter and I alone in the saloon the steward is clearing the table. Gunter opens the conversation by remarking, “When I was chatting to Captain Christiansen before you joined us he admitted because of the loss of the passengers, it has put the future of the Albatross in jeopardy they cannot compete with powered ships.

  The family are having a big meeting when he reaches Hull to decide the future it’s looking very glum. The non seagoing members of the family are all for getting rid of her. They don’t want to risk their savings in a business so dependant of weather etc. I wouldn’t like to see this happen. I have an idea that could save her and keep the ship in the Christiansen family. I am seriously considering buying out the dissident shareholders.”

  I ask him dubiously. “Will she fit in with the modern image of the OSCADA shipping venture?” “No Adam you have me wrong, this will be a personal investment of mine. I will not involve the OSCADA shipping line in any manner. I am not looking for a money making venture.”

  He adds with a twinkle in his eye. “I am wealthy enough to indulge myself in something I love, and I find I have fallen in love with an Albatross. I have made arrangements for the Captain to contact me with the result of the meeting.”

  We are too apprehensive to take to the bunks. After a few more drinks we fall asleep in the comfortable armchairs. I am awoken to the chink of china. Sometime during the night blankets have been placed over Gunter and I. Mr Earl is laying the table presumably for breakfast, Gunter yawn’s stretches and greets me. Mr Earl speaks. “Good morning Gentlemen it is seven o’clock. The Captain has asked me to warn you, we are about two hours from your destination. The conditions are favourable to launch the boat. What do you require for breakfast Gentlemen? We both opt for the same excellent sandwich we had yesterday and coffee. After performing our ablutions Gunter and I take our seats at the table. A different officer joins us at the table. He introduces himself as Mr Jefferies Chief Officer. He apologises for the absence of the Captain by explaining the Captain will not now be leaving the bridge until the ship is safely docked in Hull.

  Eight o’clock sees Gunter and I after a hurried breakfast established on deck wearing borrowed coats where we find the ship is a hive of activity.

  The decks are being washed and holystoned. The Captain informs us we are passing Eastbourne. I am able to just about make out the shape of the pier through a slight drizzle. A plume of smoke feathers out of the funnel I enquired about yesterday. A couple of sailors are taking the canvas cover of the ships long boat.

  The boy arrives on deck smartly dressed minus his sailor’s hat struggling with a huge suitcase. I ask him. “Ready for the boat trip Tony, are you sure you can manage that case?”

  He informs me. “I’ll manage it all right Sir it’s not that heavy. Mr Earl lent it to me. I have some Christmas presents for my family and don’t want to get them wet.” That reminds me I haven’t any presents for my family, I enquire. “What have you got for them then Tony?”

  “Well.” He replies. “I have a lovely table cloth and head scarf for my Mum from Cuba. For my eldest Sister Ruth I have a bride doll from Argentina. For my middle Sister Rebecca I have a Golliwog from Jamaica. And for my baby Sister Mary I have a Teddy Bear from America.

  The Captains announces “We are passing Hastings.” The two crewmen prepare the tackle for lifting the boat. A hiss of steam and hot water dribbles out of a winch close by. The Captain reveals. “That’s Folkestone off the port side.” One of the sailors operates the winch, a boom lifts, the long boat raises slightly off its chocks. He lowers it again. The Captain orders the boy. “Go forrard Boy. Give my compliments to Mr Stevens and tell him to prepare the anchor for dropping.” The Boy races away forward to carry out his order. The Captain gives a helm order to the steersman and informs the Second Mate. “Stand by to shorten sail on my order Mr Mate.” “Aye aye Sir.” The Second Mate scurries to the main deck where a number of sailors are gathered. The Boy returns.

  The Captain informs us. “Gentlemen we are now passing Dover. Prepare yourselves to disembark.” Through the megaphone he orders. “Shorten sail Mr Mate.” Sailors scurry up the rigging, activity takes place everywhere. Shortly he informs us. “We are now approaching Saint Margaret’s Bay.” He takes up the megaphone and orders. “Take em all in Mr Mate. Boy! Go forward and tell Mr Stevens to put the pick on the bottom when the weigh is off her. Stand by to swing out the boat lads. Gentlemen it’s been a pleasure having you aboard. I suggest you get into the boat before we launch her stow yourself forward in the boat it will keep you clear of the rowers. It will be easier than trying to get aboard when she’s afloat. Look after the Boy for me. You may leave the coats in the boat. I reckon you will be warm enough without them climbing them there cliffs.”

  We shake hands, Boy returns and joins us in the boat. One of the sailors passes the suit case aboard.

  I detect the rumble of the anchor chain. With a hiss and clatter from the winch the long boat lifts clear of its resting place. It swings outboard and gently drops into the water. Five sailors swarm aboard the boat they unhook the tackle. One man sits aft manning the rudder. The other four Seamen take up positions and begin to row for the shore in well practised manner. Within twenty minutes we are standing on a sandy beach with wet feet and the boat is already returning to the Mother ship Albatross. By the time we have climbed the steep cliff path and look out to sea, the boat has already been lifted back on board, the anchor has been raised the sails are being set. Gunter whistles through teeth and remarks with admiration. “That is what I call Seamanship with a capital S.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  Reunited

  As we head inland Tony appears to be having a hard time lugging the suitcase. I offer to relieve him of his burden. He politely refuses replying. “Thank you Sir but I have to manage you won’t be with me all the way home.” I realise it is five days since we crashed into the channel.

  As we walk side by side along the footpath I have a sudden thought leading me to ask Gunter. “Will you have another plane Gunter?” He gives me a strange look as if I were mad to ask the question. He replies. “Without a doubt I have already planned which one I will have it is the Bristol F two it has two seats, and it is made in Britain it was very successful plane during the war.” Puzzled I answer. “Despite having recently crashed and nearly losing your life you are willing to risk flying again?”

  “Adam there are many people killed in automobiles or in your beloved trucks. Do you decline to dr
ive them because of that factor? I think not my friend. Flying is the future transportation system of the world, believe me? The planes we have now were strictly for military purposes. Already designers are planning planes to carry civilian passengers, mail, goods. My forecast is that every major city worldwide will have its own airfield eventually. Take your own company for an example, you discarded horse drawn vehicles and steam wagons quite readily and replaced them with petrol driven trucks. These will very shortly be replaced by diesel engines.

  You modified the original trucks for towing trailers to maximise profit per vehicle. That’s progress I applaud it. I am not saying flying will replace road transport, shipping, and rail but in ten years time you will say. You know! My friend Gunter was right about aeroplanes, and Adam, OSCADA will be at the leading edge, only if we keep faith.”

  I detect the tolling of the church bell as we approach the village quelling any further discussion on the merits or not of flying. We arrive at the Saint Margaret of Antioch church.

  Parked in the lane nearby is the Rolls from the estate. When I investigate there is no one inside. It makes me wonder is Toot attending a service. Protected from the drizzle under the shelter of the lynch gate is the Vicar greeting the members of parish as they arrive. I am not a church goer but have met him previously at a village function. He does a kind of double take as he recognises me. The Vicar whispers. “My God! It’s you my Lord! This is a miracle.” He lunges forward to shake my hand vigorously and greet my companions. He looks up and down the road to ascertain if there are anymore members of his congregation arriving. Satisfied there is no one else, despite my protests that I want to get home as soon as possible. The Vicar insists on leading us to a room at the back of the church where he explains. “My Lord your Family and most of the village are inside the church. I am about to conduct a special service offering prayers for your safe return.” He chuckles before requesting. “Will you do something for me my Lord?” Puzzled I reply. “I will if it is within my power and does not keep me away for my family for a minute longer than necessary.” The bell ceases tolling he looks at his watch. The Vicar explains his idea. “I am about to enter the church and conduct the service. Would you please remain in the vestry with that door ajar until you hear me utter these words?”

  Today we will witness another miracle. On hearing those words you enter the church yourselves via that door? I promise you My Lord you won’t regret it.” I am reluctant to go along with this charade and reply. “I just want to see my family Vicar as soon as possible.” He protests. “You will, you will, within minutes from now. Have faith my Son.” Gunter enlightens him. “I am not of your faith Vicar.” The Vicar replies. “Whatever your faith we are all God’s children my Son. If I do recall my Bible, wasn’t the Lord Jesus a Jew?” To get on with it we finally agree.

  He disappears through the door, Tony pleads. “I don’t have to do it do I Sir?” I laugh.

  “No lad you stay in here.” The Vicar’s voice thunders out, although his words are not really registering, my mind is consumed with other thoughts. That is until I hear the agreed phrase. I lead the way through the door sweep back the curtain where Gunter and I find ourselves standing at the front of the church beside the altar. The church is packed with every pew full, there are even people standing at the rear. On the other side of the altar is Father Peter alongside a heavily bearded man in strange apparel, presumably a Rabbi. There is complete silence from the congregation rapidly followed by a united gasp of astonishment.

  In the front row pews I recognise almost my entire English and French family including Gunter’s wife Estelle. The first ones to make a move are Angelique and my Wife. As I head towards Denise she leaps from her seat and rushes into my arms. Mother stands close by until I reach out and hug her to me. The two women I love most dearly are enfolded in my arms. But this idyllic moment only last for a short while. Within seconds chaos reigns as I am hugged, kissed, and slapped on the shoulder. To my surprise even Bob Cranshaw the Police Sergeant is in attendance and my fishermen friends from Sandwich.

  The Vicar calls the congregation to order and invites Gunter and I to explain why we have been missing since leaving France. They mostly comply with his wishes and return to the pews, except for Denise and Estelle they remain by our sides.

  With a smile Gunter invites me to tell the tale. “After all My Lord it’s your manor.”

  As briefly as possible I reveal the mishap with his plane, the capture by the villains and our subsequent escape. I end my speech by thanking every one for attending the service conducted in memory of myself and Gunter. I add to the applause of those assembled. “We have no intention of leaving the land of the living quite yet.” I turn to Denise inquiring urgently

  “Where’s our Son, is he ill?” Denise assures me. “No no. He is at the house with the nursery maid he wouldn’t have understood why we are here. I came here very early this morning with Louise, Yvette and your Mother to say a private prayer for your departed soul.

  Instead God in his mercy has granted us your living body. She adds with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. You see my love miracles do happen, don’t they?”

  Ignoring the people surrounding us I kiss her passionately. It is not the time to remind her, it was the villains who in my opinion where closer to Hell than to Heaven that initially saved us. But I know from past experience she would insist God arranged it anyway. That is her steadfast belief who am I to argue. The congregation begins to leave after the Vicar requests them to give us some time alone with our families. Denise’s Sisters hug and kiss me. Louise gives me a severe reprimand for frightening them to death. Yvette whispers in my ear. “I’m so glad you are back. I’ll have to cook you another dinner to celebrate your return.” I step back and look at her face, she is smiling. So not only has Yvette developed a sense of humour but she knows I know she didn’t cook that fabulous dinner in Le Havre. Emily kisses me and whispers. “I had every faith you would return safe and sound. Welcome home dear Nephew.” Pamela nervously attempts to shake my hand. I’m having none of that as I consider her family. I reject the handshake and give her a big hug. She stiffens then visibly relaxes and says. “I’m so glad you are safe Adam.” I answer her jokingly. “I have never had so much attention from so many lovely ladies in my entire life. I shall have to disappear more often.” She blushes steps aside giving Toot the opportunity to shake my hand and congratulate me on my safe return. As we talk I remember the boy Tony in the vestry. I explain his presence and ask Toot to take him to the station to catch the Margate train. He replies with a better offer. “I’ll look after the lad Adam. The Rolls is parked outside I have to return Rabbi Goldstein to his Synagogue in Dover.

  He has a wedding to perform this afternoon and he hasn’t much time to spare.” I remark. “That was nice of him to come to the ceremony I’m sure Gunter and Estelle will appreciate the gesture.” Toot reveals. “It was Father Peter’s idea we hunted him down in Dover this morning.” He adds. “I’ve been thinking, it’s only a short hop further on to Margate shall I deliver the lad Tony direct to his front door?” Problem solved. “That’s great Toot. It will certainly save the lad humping his great big suitcase on the train. You know he struggled all the way from the ship and wouldn’t have our assistance. Thanks for that suggestion. Tony looked after us very well after we were rescued I’d like to reward him some way. Toot I will see you when you get back and relate my adventures to you in detail since I left in Gunter’s daft flying machine.”

  He replies with a smile. “Adam methinks you have gone off aeroplanes?” He adds. “Well at least for a while. I think you will be too busy for the foreseeable future for yarning. We’ll get together for a chat sometime, don’t worry. Your Wife and family have to come first.”

  He is right of course I nod my agreement. Taking Denise by the hand we make our way towards the door. I feel like a Bride Groom leading his Bride out after their wedding ceremony. To my amazement located at the rear of the church sits the dreaded roc
king horse and a salt stained life jacket. Denise explains. “It was only when I telephoned Suzanne and she informed me you had left France with a Rocking Horse lashed to the wing we guessed what had happened to Gunter’s aeroplane. Your fishermen friends from Sandwich searched for you day and night until they recovered these articles from the channel. That is when we gave up hope of ever seeing you ever again my love.” Wonders never cease. Outside the church Gunter and I thank the Rabbi for his attendance at the memorial service, although it turned out to be a wasted journey for him. We wish Tony goodbye. By the grin on the lads face I can imagine how proud he will be to arrive home in a chauffeur driven Rolls. For his sake I hope either his family or at least the neighbours witness his home coming. They climb into the vehicle Toot loads the case onto the luggage rack firmly securing it with straps. The engine roars into life, with a wave of his hand both Tony and Toot bid us goodbye. At the gate we thank the Vicar for his arrangements. With a smile on his face he takes the opportunity to make a request. “I hope we will see much more of you My Lord?” He attempts a joke when I fail to reply. “Now you have returned from the dead, so to speak.” It is on my lips to cynically reply. Despite all the holy talk about miracles. I can’t help wondering, if God wanted me saved why did he allow the plane to crash in the first place, and why did he put my family through hell into the bargain? But I hesitate when I notice Father Peter within earshot. He is the last person I wish to upset. Father Peter has kept very much in the background until he joins us not saying a word. But when he gives my arm a gentle squeeze as he shakes my hand I notice a tear in his eye, he doesn’t have to speak to relay his feelings to me. As a group we walk the short distance to the estate. I realise this is Christmas Eve and we have made it in time to celebrate Christmas with my family, a flurry of snow makes us increase our pace. On arrival we are greeted at the door by Mr Humphrey’s. At his suggestion we assemble in the ballroom. The chairs that normally surround the dance floor have been arranged in a row a solitary chair faces them. Mr Humphreys whispers in my ear. “You must be tired My Lord? I thought it best you tell them all the details and give them the opportunity to ask their questions in one fell swoop. My Lord do you require a drink?” I settle for a large Brandy and sip it gratefully when he delivers it. Despite the room being warm there is a definite chill in my bones I have not been aware of until now. I notice with dismay Gunter has joined his Wife in the audience leaving the explaining to me alone. I run my eyes over the assembled family and well wishers. On the end of the row is Pamela with of course Lady Emily by her side then my Mother sits next to Denise with Yvette.