Meet Letty Page 3

  Letty choked back more tears.

  ‘I’m going to tell Mama,’ Jemima said cheerfully.

  Letty did not feel that was what a best friend should say. But Jemima had already gone on deck.

  LAVINIA said nothing more about the pillowcase, but she didn’t touch Letty’s shift either. Letty had to keep wearing her thick, itchy, winter dress.

  The ship got nowhere. The Duchess was stuck in the part of the ocean called ‘the Doldrums’ for a long time. The wind dropped off completely. The sea went flat as glass. Letty thought it was like living in a painting, where everything was still.

  The stores of flour got low, and the Captain decided that instead of bread, the hold passengers would have to eat ship’s biscuit.

  ‘This biscuit is as hard and thick as the Bible,’ said Jemima, and refused to eat it. Her mother got her cabin bread, from the Captain’s table. Letty wasn’t sure how. Lavinia said curtly that Jemima’s family knew someone rich in Sydney who knew the Doctor.

  Letty and Lavinia soaked their biscuits in tea to soften them up. Lavinia pushed their tin plate towards Letty.

  ‘You eat first,’ she said. ‘I don’t feel like it.’

  Letty tried. The outside of the biscuit was slimy like glue. But inside it was still a rock. Chewing was hard work. She gave up halfway through.

  ‘Eat it,’ ordered Lavinia, ‘or you’ll starve.’

  But Lavinia lay down on the bunk and refused to eat her own share. Letty was supposed to eat that too. Instead, when Lavinia wasn’t looking, Letty tipped it into the toilet bucket.

  Next morning, Lavinia had an argument with the First Mate.

  ‘All out!’ he shouted down the hatch. ‘Bedding on deck! Time to scrub out the hold.’

  Lavinia said she was tired. ‘How are we supposed to work in this heat? With that food to eat? It won’t hurt if I stay here just this once,’ Lavinia protested.

  ‘Them’s Doctor’s orders,’ growled First Mate. He dropped his chin to his chest like a bull lowering its horns for a fight. ‘We’ve got sick passengers and sick crew. It’s down here that diseases breed. We’re cleaning out.’

  For once, Lavinia gave up. She made Letty carry their bedding, and dragged her feet unwillingly onto the deck.

  ‘I am going to die in this tropical heat, Letty,’ she complained.

  That was unfair, Letty thought. After all, it was Letty who still wore winter clothes, and Letty who had lugged the mattress. But she didn’t argue. She just reminded Lavinia that it was their turn to cook lunch.

  ‘I’m so tired! I can’t stay on my feet,’ Lavinia said. ‘You do it.’ So Letty took the mess pot to the bosun’s locker, where the food stores were kept. ‘Freckle-head’ was there, helping the bosun open a new cask of meat.

  ‘Come for meat, little girl?’ The bosun gave a gap-toothed grin.

  ‘Yes, please,’ said Letty hopefully. Yesterday’s biscuit hadn’t really filled her up.

  The boy worked around the barrel rim with a lever. The bosun held the barrel steady. There was an unpleasant, rotting smell – Letty didn’t like to say anything in case it was the bosun himself, or the boy. Nobody could keep clean on the ship. Everyone but the cabin passengers had to wash in sea water.

  The bosun wrinkled his nose.

  ‘Nearly done,’ said the boy.

  He gave the lever one more jerk and the barrel lid came free. Letty gagged as the bosun lifted the lid off. The stench didn’t come from the sailors. It came from the food.

  ‘What’s that?’ asked Letty.

  ‘Salt mutton,’ said the bosun. ‘Well-travelled salt mutton. See these here bungs?’ The bosun pointed out three round plugs of wood, driven into the barrel lid. ‘Every time this barrel reaches a dock, it’s inspected. Then it’s sealed up again with one of these. So this meat’s already been out to Australia and back again. Just like Jones here.’

  The bosun plunged his hand into the barrel and pulled out a black lump. ‘That’ll do for your mess,’ he said, dropping it into Letty’s pot. Letty looked at it in disgust.

  ‘Wash it in sea water and boil it,’ lisped the bosun. ‘She’ll be right.’

  But she wasn’t right. The slippery meat washed out of the bucket and nearly slithered overboard. Letty had to stand on it with her boot to stop it being lost. Even after she rinsed it three times it still ponged.

  She took it to the galley, where the ship’s stove was. She hung around the cooking pot for two hours, while it boiled. Then she wrapped her dress around the pot’s iron handle to carry it to the mess.

  Jemima’s mother took off the lid. She made a face at the sour smell that came out.

  ‘Ooh – poo,’ said Jemima. ‘I’m not hungry.’

  Jemima’s mother slopped the stew into their plates. ‘Next time you do the cooking,’ she said to Lavinia. ‘Letty can’t. That’s clear.’

  Letty felt she had failed. She choked on her first mouthful of meat.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Lavinia. She stood up, swaying with the ship. ‘I’m going to bed.’

  The next morning Lavinia wasn’t right either. Her face was pink, as if she’d been in the sun too long. ‘I’m so hot,’ she murmured.

  Jemima blamed the meat. But Lavinia hadn’t had a single mouthful.

  Lavinia didn’t even lift her head from the pillow when First Mate yelled down the hatch at them.

  Letty pulled the curtain across because Lavinia wasn’t dressed yet.

  ‘Not you again!’ he said when he came to their berth. ‘You’re trouble.’

  When Papa said that, Lavinia’s eyes would flash and they’d be in for a row. But this morning Lavinia lay on the bunk with her eyes closed.

  Letty faced the First Mate. ‘We’ll be up in a minute, sir,’ she said.

  But Lavinia really could not move, even after First Mate had gone. Instead, Letty picked up Jemima’s mattress, which her friend had left behind. If the Mate was watching, it would look as if Letty and Lavinia were doing what they were supposed to.

  After she’d piled the mattresses on the focsle, Letty volunteered to scrub their mess. She snuck down to see Lavinia first. Letty felt a whisper of panic – her sister was so still. Letty touched her cheek. It was burning. Once, years ago, Letty’s mother had also been sick – very sick. Letty had forgotten, for a long time. But she remembered now.

  ‘Lavinia, quick! Get up before anyone comes.’

  ‘Don’t talk to me,’ her sister answered. ‘My head’s splitting.’

  Letty tipped her bucket of sea water on the floor. As she sloshed the broom across the timbers, she wondered what to do. Even after she’d cleaned their mess, Lavinia hadn’t moved. Letty, however, had made a decision.

  She went in search of the Doctor, on the poop deck.

  ‘Excuse me, sir,’ she said when she found him.

  The Doctor frowned, as Letty had expected him to. Letty was afraid of the Doctor’s coldness. But a greater fear was pushing her. She didn’t give up.

  ‘My sister is sick.’

  A gentleman passenger standing nearby rolled his eyes. ‘A weak lot, women,’ he said.

  The Doctor sniffed. His moustache twitched.

  ‘She’s not seasick,’ said Letty, with a glance at the flat ocean. ‘And it’s not the food. But she’s too sick to move.’

  ‘All right,’ sighed the Doctor. ‘I’ll have a look.’

  The Doctor rarely came into the hold. Letty kept looking back to make sure he was really following.

  Lavinia was asleep. She started when the Doctor touched her head.

  ‘Feverish,’ he said. The Doctor opened the porthole wide, letting in more light. ‘I want you to have a look at her torso,’ he instructed.

  Letty didn’t know what he meant. ‘Her chest and waist,’ said the Doctor impatiently. ‘Under her nightgown.’

  The Doctor turned his back. Letty looked. Lavinia didn’t resist.

  ‘Does she have red spots?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Letty. The word felt heavy as a ston
e.

  ‘I’ll get her taken to the hospital,’ the Doctor said. ‘She has ship fever.’

  A PAIR of sailors scooped up Lavinia on her mattress. They carried her to a different part of the hold, which was called the hospital, although it had the same plain bunks. Lavinia neither complained nor thanked the sailors. She only moaned. Letty felt like a spare tail, drooping behind them. The sailors put Lavinia down, crossed themselves, and left.

  Three or four patients lay on the other bunks. The Doctor wasn’t there. A father was wiping his little boy’s forehead with a wet cloth.

  ‘Does he have ship fever too?’ Letty asked.

  The man nodded. ‘So the Doctor says. He doesn’t do anything, mind you,’ the man continued unhappily. ‘The medicine is only for cabin passengers. We can’t afford to pay for it. Is that your sister?’

  Letty nodded.

  ‘Where are your mother and father?’

  ‘Not here,’ she said.

  ‘You’d best look after her yourself, then.’

  The man was right. The Doctor did not show his face again that day. Letty fetched her sister’s good handkerchief, dipped it in water and tried to cool Lavinia off, like the man was doing for his son. When the ship’s bell rang for dinner, Letty went to their berth.

  Jemima’s mother had made dinner – it was just as foul when she cooked the meat, Letty noticed.

  ‘Where have you been all day?’ Jemima wanted to know.

  ‘The hospital. Lavinia’s sick,’ Letty explained.

  Jemima’s mother stared at Letty. ‘Then you get out of here too,’ she said. ‘Now! We don’t want you carrying diseases back to us.’

  Jemima’s mother was tall. She held the wooden spoon threateningly in one hand and Letty was afraid of her. She picked up her plate.

  ‘Take your sister’s clothes too,’ ordered Jemima’s mother, ‘or I’ll throw them overboard.’

  Jemima said nothing. Letty did not blame her. What could you say when your mother was being so mean?

  It was hard to walk with Lavinia’s long skirts tripping her up. Letty spilled the dinner. There was hardly any left when she reached the hospital.

  Lavinia did not want it anyway. She curled up on the bunk. ‘Take it away. My stomach hurts …’ she moaned.

  ‘Give her tea,’ the boy’s father suggested. ‘They can’t take this rot the Captain calls food.’

  Letty couldn’t go back to the mess, so she had to beg a cupful of tea from the cook.

  Over the next few days, the little boy’s father shared what he could from his mess with Letty. In return, Letty helped watch over his son.

  For a whole week, Lavinia drank only tea.

  ‘Get some food into her,’ advised the Doctor, when he finally came down to see them. ‘Or she’ll have no strength to fight the fever.’

  Letty did her best. She saved her own small portion of ship’s biscuit, soaked in tea. Lavinia was too tired to hold it, so Letty fed bits to her on a spoon. After a few mouthfuls, Lavinia had had enough.

  ‘Thank you, Letty,’ she murmured.

  Five minutes later, Lavinia doubled up in pain. ‘Bucket!’ she groaned.

  But Letty was too slow and Lavinia was sick all over herself.

  ‘Oh, Lavinia!’ said Letty. ‘I’m so sorry.’ It was frightening to see her proud sister so weak. Lavinia always hated dirt and mess, and now she couldn’t even control her own body.

  ‘Never mind,’ Lavinia whispered. ‘Help me change.’

  Letty peeled her sister’s nightgown carefully over her head. Then she helped her into the long shift that she normally wore under her corset. Lavinia closed her eyes again.

  ‘I’ll be back soon,’ Letty told her.

  She bundled up the wet gown and handkerchief, and took them on deck. The other passengers had gone below for the night. The crew were trimming the sails that hung limp in the twilight. Letty went straight for the rails. She heaved the dirty nightshirt overboard. It made a soft splash. Letty watched the water fold over the bundle. It sank slowly.

  The boy sailor came out of the crew’s cabin under the focsle. He yawned and leaned on the rail beside her. Letty noticed that his arms and legs were like blocks of wood – solid and squared off at the joints. She wondered whether it was hard to balance when he climbed so high up the masts.

  ‘Evening, Miss,’ he said.

  Letty thought how good it was to have someone speak to her in a pleasant, passing-the-time sort of way. She hadn’t realised how lonely she’d been, without Jemima or Lavinia to talk with.

  ‘Good evening,’ said Letty. But then she got stuck. She remembered the games she and Jemima had played against the boy and how Jemima had called him ‘Freckle-head’. She couldn’t go any further. He didn’t say anything either. He was probably expecting her to run off.

  ‘Can I ask your name?’ Letty said eventually.

  ‘Seaman Jones, Miss.’

  ‘No, I meant what your family call you. Like I’m Letitia,’ Letty explained. ‘Letty for short.’

  ‘Aye – Letty.’ Her name sounded dainty, the way he said it. ‘Abner, I am.’

  ‘Abner,’ said Letty seriously. ‘I’m sorry for not talking to you before. I think your voice is very nice. Even if it’s not English. It goes up and down like the sea.’

  Abner smiled. ‘Wales, I’m from.’

  ‘How did you come here?’ The moment Letty asked this question, she regretted it. If he asked her the same thing, she couldn’t reply. She didn’t want to be rude, but she didn’t want to talk about the big mess-up either.

  Abner looked happy enough to tell her. ‘When I was near fourteen, my mam said I had to work or she couldn’t feed me. Our valley got a new coal mine, but I couldn’t stand workin’ there. Black as night, underground. So I done run off to sea.’ He swept an arm over the water, tinted rose by the sunset.

  The ship’s bell rang.

  ‘Start of my shift, that is,’ said Abner. ‘Four hours on, four hours off.’

  ‘Do you like working as a sailor?’ Letty asked.

  Abner thought. ‘Not all of it. The anchor cables – ach.’ He pulled a face. ‘But settin’ the sails, I like. They’re all different. This one we’re under, the mizzen course, it’s a bit like me. Tall, odd-shaped, but useful.’

  Letty smiled.

  ‘And you,’ Abner continued to her surprise, ‘would be the royal. Right up the top – small and pretty.’

  ‘Oh!’ Letty was startled. People always thought Lavinia or Jemima were pretty, but never her. Her heart gave a little flutter of pleasure.

  ‘Seaman Jones, look sharp!’ yelled First Mate. ‘Cat’s paw coming from north-west!’

  Letty looked where the Mate was pointing. A riffle of wind was moving over the water towards the ship.

  ‘Night, Miss Letty,’ Abner called as he headed up the rigging.

  The cool breeze followed Letty down the hatch, back to Lavinia. Letty thought about Abner, and the royal sail, and the thoughts were like fresh air.

  JEMIMA and her mother were both in the hospital. They sat on the bunk nearest Lavinia. Jemima’s head rested on her mother’s shoulder. At last they’ve come to see how we are, Letty thought. ‘Jemima!’ she said happily.

  Jemima turned her head slowly. All her bounciness was gone. She looked as little and frightened as Letty often felt. They hadn’t come to visit. They were sick too.

  ‘Help her, Letty,’ said Jemima’s mother hoarsely. ‘Please!’

  Letty didn’t think Jemima’s mother should give her instructions anymore. But she could not harden her heart against Jemima. So now she had three patients to wash and to give tea.

  That night, the Duchess finally found the trade winds. The ship seemed to shake itself, and then took off south. Letty thought it was like a bird skimming over the waves. The sea air above decks was lovely and cool, but Lavinia’s fever burned as hot as ever.

  By the morning, Lavinia couldn’t move – not even to go to the toilet when her insides turned to wat
er. Letty stripped the filthy shift off her sister and put it under the bunk. She heaved Lavinia to one side and turned the mattress over. The hospital smelled even worse than usual. But Letty was too embarrassed to take the clothes on deck until the day was over and it was completely dark.

  The hatch was left open in fine weather, but female passengers weren’t supposed to be above deck so late. Letty crept up the ladder. Under a lamp in the focsle, sailors were playing cards. Abner was on watch at the prow. Letty walked softly to where the buckets were stowed. She wished she could throw this shift away, but it was the only one Lavinia had left. She had to find a way to wash it.

  Letty lowered the big wooden bucket on its rope, over the ship’s rails. The tarry rope stuck in her hands. The bucket clunked against the ship’s side. Letty hoped nobody heard. The bucket plopped into the water. Letty imagined how good it would be to lower herself in too, and wash all the heat and dirt and worry away. But of course she couldn’t do that – she’d drown.

  Letty grasped the rope and heaved. But the Duchess was moving too fast and the bucket felt as though it weighed a ton. Her arm was almost yanked out of its socket. The rope burned her palm. She held on, thinking: If I lose this bucket, I will be in big trouble from First Mate and maybe even the Doctor.

  Letty reached for the rope with both hands. She got one hand over the other. The bucket is an arm-length closer, she told herself— pull again.

  A gust of wind blew across the deck. The sails filled and the ship surged suddenly. The drag on the bucket was too strong for her. Letty felt her feet leave the deck. Her ribs slammed into the rail and knocked the breath out of her. She let go of the rope with one hand. But somehow it was caught around her and pulling her overboard. In a panic, she grabbed at the rail, but the wood was wet and slippery and she couldn’t hold on. She could feel the sea spray in her face. Below her was the terrifying black water. In a second she would be over the side …

  ‘Whoa there!’ Abner grabbed her arm and waist. With a bruising yank he pulled her back.

  ‘Miss Letty, are you all right?’

  Letty gasped for breath. Her ribs hurt like someone had hit her. Her knees gave way. She sat on the deck, shaking all over.