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We finished the bottle of brandy, deadening the shock of such a near disaster, then went into two-man watches for the rest of the night. And in the morning, with the wind beginning to veer into the west and the sky clearing to light cirrus, we could see the Desertas lifting above the horizon and clouds hanging over the high mountains of Madeira.

All day the islands became clearer and by nightfall Funchal was just visible as a sparkling of lights

climbing the steep slopes behind the port. The wind was in the west then and falling light, a quiet sea with a long swell that glinted in the moonlight. I had the dawn watch and it was beautiful, the colours changing from blue-green to pink to orange-flame, the bare cliffs of the Desertas standing brick-red on our starb’d quarter as the sun lifted its great scarlet rim over the eastern horizon.

This I knew would be the last day on board. Ahead of me Madeira lifted its mountainous bulk into an azure sky and Funchal was clearly visible, its hotels and houses speckled white against the green slopes behind. I could just see the grey top of the breakwater with its fort and a line of naval ships steaming towards it. Just a few hours now and I would be back to reality, to the world as it really was for a man without a ship. It was such a lovely morning, everything sparkling and the scent of flowers borne on the wind, which was now north of west so that we were close-hauled.

I began thinking about the book then. Perhaps if I wrote it all down, just as it had happened… But I didn’t know the end, of course, my mind switching to Balkaer, to that morning when it all started with the first of the oiled-up bodies coming ashore, and I began to play with words, planning the way it would open. Twelfth Night and the black rags of razorbacks washing back and forth down there in the cove in the slop of the waves…

‘Morning, Trevor.’ It was Pamela, smiling brightly as she came up into the cockpit. She stood there for a moment, breathing deeply as she took in the scene,

her hair almost gold as it blew in the wind, catching the sunlight. She looked very statuesque, very young and fresh. ‘Isn’t it lovely!’ She sat down on the lee side, leaning back and staring into space, not saying anything, her hands clasped tight together. I sensed a tension building up and wondered what it was, resenting the intrusion, words still building in my mind.

Ripples stirred the surface of the sea, a flash of silver as a fish jumped. ‘Something I’ve got to tell you.’ She blurted the words out in a tight little voice. ‘I admire you — what you’ve done this last month, the sort of man you are, your love of birds, all the things you wrote. I think you are a quite exceptional…’

‘Forget it,’ I said. I knew what she was trying to say.

‘No. It’s not as easy as that.’ She leaned forward on the lift of the boat and put her hand over mine on the wheel. ‘I don’t regret that letter, you see. It’s just that I don’t know.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t understand myself really, but I think what it was — I was reaching out for a new dimension. That’s what you represented to me, something different, something I’d never really come across before. Are you a vegetarian?’

‘I’ve eaten everything I’ve been given, haven’t I?’ I said it lightly, trying to laugh her out of the tense seriousness of her mood.

‘But in Cornwall, you were vegetarian, weren’t you?’

‘Karen was. I conformed. I had to. We’d no money to buy meat, and we grew our own vegetables.’

‘Yes, of course. I’ve still got the typescript, by the way. But what I was trying to say — I was like somebody who’s been carnivorous all her life and is suddenly faced with the idea of becoming a vegetarian. It’s so totally different. That’s what I meant by new dimension. Do you understand?’

I nodded, not sure whether I did or not. No man likes to be faced with an attractive girl making a statement of rejection, and certainly not in the dawn with the sun coming up and the sea and the sky and the land ahead all bright with the hopes of a new day. ‘Forget it,’ I said again. ‘You’ve no cause to reproach yourself. I’ll keep the letter under my pillow.’

‘Don’t be silly.’

‘And when I’m feeling particularly low …’ Saltley’s head appeared in the hatch and she took her hand away.

‘Thank you,’ she breathed. ‘I knew you’d understand.’ And she jumped to her feet. ‘Two eggs for the helm?’ she asked brightly. ‘Our last breakfast and everything so lovely. Two eggs and four rashers.’ She nodded and disappeared below to the galley. Saltley stared at me a moment, then his head disappeared and I was alone again, my thoughts no longer on the book, but on Karen and what I had lost. The future looked somehow bleaker, the feeling of separation from the others more intense.

<p>CHAPTER TWO</p>
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