Читать книгу To Slight the Jacket Blue - Bronwyn Sciance - Страница 3

"...Forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty! Ready or not, here I come!"

Samuel Jameson fought back laughter as he crouched behind the wooden packing crate. Other children hid around the docks, but Sam was confident that he had found the best place there was.

"Found you!"

"No fair," Sam complained, leaping out from behind the box. "You cheated. How did you know I was here?"

Edward Sharpe laughed, tossing back a long black curl. "Sam, you're my best friend. Besides, I was thinking of hiding here when it was my turn anyway, so I figured I'd check here first."

Sam smiled, reluctantly. "Call it payback for last time when you hid in the spot I was going to hide in, Ned."

Ned grinned back. "We do that a lot, don't we?"

"Ship ahoy!"

Game forgotten, the children of Bristol popped out of various hiding paces, some more obvious than others, and ran for the pier where the ship would be docking. Sailors and dock workers cursed and shooed them aside, but most persisted in hanging about. For the most part, the workers had also grown up in the dockyard, or another like this one, and they put up with the children, however reluctantly. Ned and Sam found a perch on a pylon out of the way but near enough that they could see what was going on.

"I bet she's a silk merchant," Sam speculated.

"No, she's a grain merchant," Ned contradicted his friend.

"She's bringing wood from Brazil." Sam had some vague idea of where Brazil was and he had heard that Brazilian wood was prized, but he had no idea why.

"She's bringing spice from the Orient."

"She's bringing tobacco from the Colonies."

"She's bringing sugar from Jamaica!"

Having run out of ideas for potential cargo, Sam squinted at the side of the ship as it drifted in. "Which ship is she? I can't tell from here."

Ned's eyes had always been better than Sam's. He peered at the ship, squinting and shielding his eyes with one hand. "The Victoria?" he said uncertainly. "I don't remember her."

"Nor do I," Sam admitted. "Maybe Will can tell us what she's carrying."

"I haven't seen Will today. Have you?" Ned asked.

"No, I haven't, but he's around somewhere." Sam was unconcerned. "Look, they're casting out the lines!"

Ned and Sam stood together on the squat wooden column, watching as sailors and dockworkers caught the stout ropes and secured them to the docks.

"Watch out, boy!"

Ned jumped down behind the pylon, but Sam grabbed ahold of the rope as it flew towards him. The impact knocked him backwards, but fortunately Ned caught him. Together they ran the rope around the pylon, securing it with the best knot they could.

"You two okay?" A tall young lad, hardly beyond his boyhood years, was running towards them. He stopped and inspected the knot. "Say, this is pretty good."

"Just like you taught us," Sam said proudly, puffing out his narrow chest and trying to look like a man.

Ned just grinned. "Hello, Will."

William Waters was a few years older than the two boys, but he had always treated them fairly. He returned Ned's grin. "Hello, lads. What are you doing down here?"

"Just watching the ship pull into port." Ned looked up at the prow. "The Victoria, right? I don't think I've seen her before."

Will looked uncomfortable. "You wouldn't have. She's not based here. Her home port is London."

"Then why is she here?" Ned wanted to know. "London's nowhere near here. You couldn't drive cargo to London and have it get there undamaged."

Sam scoffed. "They're going to sell it here, whatever it is she's carrying. If he goes to London to sell his cargo, he won't get as good of a price, right, Will?"

"Er...right, Sam." Will smiled a little absently. "Listen, I've got to help the men get her unloaded. You two head on home now. It's getting on towards lunchtime."

"Oh, come on, Will," pleaded Sam. "We want to watch the ship unload. That's half the fun, right?"

He turned to his friend for support, but Ned hesitated. "Sam, maybe we ought to go."

"Don't be such a dastard, Ned," Sam said in a dismissive fashion.

"Samuel Jameson! Don't you ever let me catch you using such language again!" Will had turned white. "Now get out of here, both of you!"

Sam started to argue–not in the least because Will had used his full name–but Ned grabbed his hand and dragged him away. Outside the Purple Falcon, the inn Sam's mother ran, they stopped. Ned studied his friend. "What was that word you used?"

"What, dastard? Means coward. Heard it from a man who was here last month." Sam smiled at the recollection. "Paid well, and you should have seen him–a proper gentleman, he was. He gave me a whole piece of silver just for bringing up his boots."

Ned looked up and down the street. "If he was such a gentleman, what was he doing here?"

Sam scowled, even though he knew what Ned meant. "My mother makes the best roast beef in England. Why, King George himself would eat here if he were in town!"

Ned held up his hands. "Pax! I was just saying...most of the rich merchants go to dine with old Mr. Delancey up the hill. It's just the common sailors who have to bunk down here."

"True enough," Sam admitted. "But I'm not making this up. He was really there. Look, ask Mother if you don't believe me."

"I never said I didn't believe you." Ned punched his friend in the shoulder. "I just said it was odd. Come on, let's go help out with lunch."

With as much work as she put in, Sam often wondered how his mother could look the way she did. Hannah Jamerson was round and rosy, with a perpetually cheerful smile on her face. At seeing her son come in with his friend, she promptly called her daughter Rebecca over and put the boys to work. Sam, swaddled in an oversized apron, poured and served the drinks, while Ned cleaned tables and cleared away plates as people finished and left. Once the rush was over, Hannah gave the boys their meal.

As they sat at the bar counter enjoying their stew, the door banged open and Will came in. "Hello, Mistress Jameson, any food for a starving lad?"

Hannah placed a bowl in front of the lad in question, who ate hungrily. Sam leaned over and asked eagerly, "Did you get the cargo unloaded, Will?"

"Hmm? Oh, aye, it's done," Will said absently. "They've all been taken to auction."

"They?" Ned said sharply, but Sam spoke over top of him.

"Can we help you unload the next ship in, Will?"

Will hesitated. "Well, that will be up to the boys working then, Sam."

"But won't you be there?"

Will exchanged a look with Hannah, then turned to Sam. "No. No, I won't be there anymore–at least, not for a while."

"Where are you going?" Ned asked.

Will sighed and set down his spoon. "When the Victoria sails on the next tide, I will be going with her," he said flatly. "My father got me a berth. I'm to be a sailor, same as he is."

Sam jumped up eagerly, almost upsetting the tall stool. "Where do you sign on?"

"Now, hold on, Sam," Will began.

Sam wasn't listening. He turned to Ned, who was still seated. "Come on, I bet we can get berths if we hurry."

"Certainly not!" Hannah's voice was sharp and firm.

"She's right, Sam," Will said gently. "You're not ready for the sailing life. Besides, I think she's all full for this voyage."

Sam was momentarily disappointed, then perked up. "Then we'll get on another ship."

"You'll do no such thing," Hannah snapped. "You're too young. I forbid it, and Ned, I'm sure your mother will say the same. Absolutely not."

"Can we go when Will comes back?" Sam pressed, but he climbed back onto his stool.

Will hesitated. "That will be two years, but..." He turned to Hannah. "How old are they?"

"Eight," Hannah answered.

"I'll be nine at Christmas-tide," Same protested quickly.

Ned laughed. "Sam, it's only April."

"You can go to sea when you're Will's age," Hannah told Sam.

"But that's four whole years!" Sam whined. He turned to Ned. "You won't go without me, will you?"

"Not for all the world," Ned promised. "Anyway, you're older than I am."

"Now that that's settled..." Will stood. "I must go. Thank you for the stew, Mistress Jameson. I shall see all three of you in two years' time." With that, Will swept out of the tavern.

This time it was Ned who jumped up. "Come on, Sam, if we hurry we can see him off. It's only right."

Sam took Ned's hand, and together the two ran for the docks. Will was just vanishing up the gangplank. They stood on the pylon where they had watched the ship come in and waved furiously as orders were shouted. The lines were cast off, and the Victoria was away. The two watched until she was a mere speck on the horizon.

"I wonder where she's going?" Ned mused as he jumped off the pylon.

A passing dockworker overheard them. "I heard tell as they're bound for Aferky."

"Afer...Africa?" Ned cried.

"What cargo comes from there?" Sam asked. "I've never even heard of it."

Ned looked at his friend. "People," he said grimly. "My mother told me. They take boys like us away from their families and keep them in the cargo hold, and then when they bring them to England they sell them to work without getting paid for the rest of their lives."

Sam vaguely recalled something he had once heard his mother and Ned's discussing. "You mean slaves? She's a slaver? But I thought Will promised..."

"His father got him the berth, remember? It wasn't his choice." Ned stared out to sea, as though willing his friend to come back.

Sam put a hand on Ned's shoulder. "Stroke of luck for us, right?" he said, hoping to shake his friend from his mood. "We can pick our own berths. We haven't any fathers to do it for us."

Ned smiled. "You're right. Come on, I'll race you to the warehouse."