Ocean's Justice

Part 14

Fourteen

William's cheeky grin persisted as he led me to the mess deck, which was the scene of unusual activity. Men unrolled lengths of the paper that I'd seen wired to the toilet wall, and painted it red before fastening it to the bulkheads. The stuff hung in swags from the pin points, along the wall and across the ceiling as one man started pinning it to the ceiling beams.

"Interesting decorations," William said, laughing.

One man sniffed and wiped his nose with the back of his hand, leaving a streak of red paint across his cheek. "Yeah, well we wouldn't have any if it weren't for the Indian boys. No one can find the ones we used for Captain Foster's birthday, so Chief Officer Smith gets ruddy bog-roll instead." He turned to the other men. "Oi, Ali!" Three men responded to his call. "Mr McGregor likes your idea." All three grinned, waved and returned to their work.

William and I carefully made our way through the hall, avoiding the draped, dripping toilet paper. None of the breakfast foods looked particularly appetising and the tea was extra murky this morning, but I tried to choke it down anyway as William seemed set on explaining the occasion to me.

"It's the chief officer's birthday, so we'll be having cake for pudding tonight and the captain has promised he'll get the gramophone out. Smith has an impressive record collection and he picked up some jazz ones in New York that he seemed pretty excited about. He's a big fan of Cole Porter, so I'm sure you'll hear heaps of him tonight. And…speaking of music…" He coughed, looking uncomfortable. "I was wondering if you might be willing…if you'd agree to…if you'd like to…do you know how to dance, Maria?"

"Dance?" I tasted the word, knowing its meaning. I'd lost count of the number of times I'd watched the islanders back home dance at some celebration or other, wishing I could join in, but knowing I could never. The intricate patterns as people spun around each other in matching movements. I'd practiced the steps alone in the dark as the faint strains of the music carried to me across the waves and sand.

"Would you…would you dance with me?" he asked, his voice failing so that he had to clear his throat. "Please?"

Nervously, I wiped my mouth. A small school of frightened fish seemed to have swum into my stomach, it felt so fluttery. For the first time, not to dance alone, in the dark? "Yes, William," I breathed, unable to contain my beaming smile.

"Right now?" he continued, reaching for my hand. Confused, I let him lead me away from the table and out into the watery sunlight at the bow. Didn't we need music? The only sounds were the thrumming of the engines and the sibilance of the waves as they splashed and slid along the hull. He backed away from me a little, placed his hands on his hips, and bowed from the waist. Hurriedly, I did the same.

William grinned at me and raised his hands above his head, clapping to a beat only he could hear. Yet my memory stirred as if I could still hear the faint fiddle floating on the wind. I counted eight before I stretched my toes out to take the first sliding step of a reel I'd only ever danced alone. I lifted my arms above my head, desperately hoping I'd remember the steps as I finished a circuit around William and back to where I'd started. His feet hadn't moved, but he looked astonished. I stopped, looking down at my feet. I'd surely committed some societal faux pas that I didn't understand.

"Maria, where did you learn to dance a reel? Please, let me dance with you," he said eagerly, angling his body like the couples had at home. I matched him, mirroring his motion with each step, tap and turn. I measured my steps carefully, knowing how precise they had to be. Though I should have expected it, when William linked his arm with mine and whirled me around, he left me momentarily breathless. I recovered quickly and remembered the rest of the steps until he touched me again. I laughed aloud for the joy of it – the first time I'd danced with someone else.

The reel ended and he stopped clapping as we both bowed. Still bent over, I gasped when William grasped my shoulders to haul me upright, before he planted a smacking kiss on my lips. "You're better than my sister, Sarah! Where did you learn to dance like that?"

I swallowed, wanting to him to kiss me again instead of asking questions I didn't want to answer. "Home," I responded sadly.

William curled an arm around my shoulder and stared at the ocean over the starboard railing. "One day, I'd like to take you to my home. You can meet Sarah and her husband, my brothers and their wives, too. I'd wrap you in thick McGregor tartan so you wouldn't feel the cold. Maria, if you let me, I'd take care of you, all your days, in any home you wish." The look in his eyes was one of longing. One I felt I understood – better than his words, at least.

Cautiously, I placed my hands on his cheeks and lifted my lips to his. The kiss we shared was gentle and it seemed to calm his restlessness. He held tight to me as we stared out over the ocean together. My feet tingled to dance some more, but for now I was content in his arms.