Passage to Australia [Passage to Australia Trilogy Book One]

Chapter XII Aftermath

Chapter XII

Aftermath

Janine rushed out of the cabin, Paris close on her heels.  They ran all the way down the hall to the stairs and took them two at a time.  By the time they had climbed two flights they were both out of breath but they didn't slow down.  At the next flight they encountered none other than Paul himself, looking like death warmed over and rushing down stairs as quickly as they were running up.  He slammed into Janine with full force and knocked her against the wall.

"Paul!"  Paris gasped with relief.  "We thought you-" she took in his perfectly dry clothes.  "Well, if it's not you, who is it?"

"It's Erik, he fell over.  I didn't meant to, he just-" Paris didn't hear the rest because she had hurried up the next flight as soon as she heard Erik's name.  No, no, please, no!  Was all she could think as she pounded up the steps and burst through the door onto the top deck.  There were two men, ship's officers, standing by the rail and she ran over to them, glancing down at the dark water before one of them pulled her back.

"I'm not going to jump; I'm a friend."  She protested, trying to shake the man's arm without effect.

"You know who that is, miss?"  He asked her while the other one spoke into a crackling hand-held radio.

"He's with my party."  Paris tried to gather her thoughts.  "His name is Erik Troy, he's - "

"Name of Erik Troy," the other man said into the radio.  "What's that?  You got him?  Roger."  He turned to his partner who still had his hand on Paris' shoulder.  "They got him."

==========

Erik blinked, but the light blinded him so he closed his eyes again, trying to figure out where he was.  He remembered Paul trying to jump overboard, the fight, then falling over the rail.

"Paul!"  He was surprised at how weak his voice sounded.  "Paul."

"Hush," came a voice above his head that sounded positively angelic.  "Paul's fine, he's just outside."  A cool hand brushed the hair away from his forehead.  He tried again to open his eyes, felt something around his head.  He reached his hand up to feel it but gasped at the sudden pain that shot up his arm.  

"Don't move, Erik," the voice said as a hand took his arm and laid it by his side again; and this time he recognized it as belonging to Paris.  "You were hurt when you fell over the railing.  You hit the side of the boat before you fell into the water and it knocked you out; you had a concussion."

"And my arm?"  He asked, his eyes were open now and watching her face as she bent over him.

"It must have happened when you struggled with Paul."

"Then he told you what happened."   He remembered everything now, and the weight settled in his gut again.

"Yes, he told us everything.  He feels really bad about what happened, Erik."  She straightened and reached for a glass on the bedside table.  "Here, drink this."

"No worse than I do," Erik replied after he took a couple sips from the cup.  "I should have seen what he was going through; I should have tried harder to help him before he reached the - suicidal state."  The word was hard to say in relation to his brother.

"If he were here right now he would tell you it wasn't anyone's fault, least of all yours."  

The door opened a sliver and a head peeked in.  It was Paul. 

"Can I see him now, nurse?"

"Of course," Paris replied, standing up and moving toward the door.  "But don't let him talk too much."

"No," Paul gave her a small smile before she left and closed the door behind her.  He sent an apprehensive glance at Erik.

"Good to see you're still alive, brother."  Erik tried to inject a light tone into his words but failed miserably.

"Same to you," Paul pulled up a chair.  "I'm sorry, Erik."  Straight and to the point, but Erik knew by looking at him that he meant every word.

"Just don't ever pull a stupid stunt like that again; I might not be around next time."  They shared a knowing smile, suddenly everything in the past forgotten.

"I think you will."

==========

"He told me he heard his parents arguing one night and his mother said something about how she wished they'd never gotten Paul."  

The three cousins stood outside the boys' stateroom with Fiona, leaving the brothers inside.  Janine continued.

"It turns out that Paul isn't even a Troy, at least not by blood.  When the doctor told Mary she couldn't have children, they adopted.  But apparently the doctor was wrong and a year later Erik showed up."

"They never told anyone," Fiona added.  "Even Parker, Mary's own brother, didn't know about it."

"So they favored Erik because he was their flesh and blood," Brandon said.  "I guess maybe I'm lucky to be an only child."

"But you don't have a brother who'd risk life and limb to save your life," interjected Paris, who had been a silent listener.  "There's something to be said for brotherly love."

"I have to admit," Fiona pursed her lips.  "If I'd known ahead of time how much would happen before we even got to Australia, I wouldn't have invited any of you."  Brandon smiled and Janine chuckled.

"But Aunt Fiona, we're worth it, aren't we?"  Paris teased.  

"Maybe," her aunt replied doubtfully, but with a twinkle in her eyes.  "My one comfort is that once this trip is over, I can give you all back to your parents and be done with you."  

"I still think it's sad that you and Uncle Parker never had any children of your own."  Janine linked arms with her aunt.  "Then you would know the joy of having children around all the time."

Fiona snorted, but was prevented from answering by Paul's issue from the stateroom.  He exchanged a glance with Janine and smiled at her.  

"Do you mind if we take a walk, Aunt Fiona?"  He asked.

"Stay away from the rails, young man," Fiona warned, but nodded her head.  Janine slipped past Paris' stunned expression and joined Paul as they walked down the hall.

"I was just watching Erik over night," she complained to Brandon.  "What did I miss?"

"It appears Paul chose Janine as his confident and friend."  Her cousin shrugged her shoulders.  "Men, who can understand them?"

"So he's alright now?"

"He seems to be."  Brandon leaned against the wall.  "I guess Erik's accident knocked some sense into him finally."

"Let's hope so," Paris replied as she glanced over her shoulder at the retreating couple.  "I'd better go sit with Erik."  She ignored the grin she was sure Brandon sent her and opened the door.  Erik was now sitting up in the bed, gazing out the porthole.  She closed the door quietly.

"I didn't know the sky could be so interesting," she teased him, drawing his attention.  "That's about all you can see from your position."

"My position doesn't seem so bad now that you're back," he responded, his eyes saying much more than his words.  Paris held back a smile and walked to the bedside.

"Are you comfortable?"  

"Yeah, I guess," he shifted a bit.  "But my arm hurts a little."  

"Let me check that," when she leaned over to check the bandage he reached up and slipped his other arm around her waist, pulling her close to him.  "Wha-" her exclamation was cut off when his lips met  hers and she found herself enjoying his arm around her.  Three seconds later he let her go and she slowly stood up.

"It's much better now," Erik grinned up at her.

"Are you sure it doesn't need just a little more?"  She smiled and lowered her head again.