Free Ocean's Justice by Demelza Carlton Page A

his shirt were drenched as if someone had poured a whole bucket of water over them. "I hate rum. I'm never drinking alcohol again." His bloodshot eyes turned pleadingly to me. "Tell me Miss Maria didn't see me in that state."
    William eyed him. "Sorry, lad, but she saw everything. I had to turn you out for your own good – and her safety."
    Charlie groaned and staggered up the passage, swearing until he was well out of sight and all I could hear of him were his mumbled curses.
    "Tidy yourself up, lass, so I can take you to breakfast. I have a surprise for you." William poured clean water into the bowl and offered it to me. I inclined my head in thanks and rolled up my sleeves so I could wash. The whole ocean couldn't wash away the feeling of his mouth on mine and I didn't want it to.
     

 
    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,