Читать книгу All That Glitters - Martine Desjardins - Страница 11

V

OUR CONTINGENT SAILED from Bristol five days ago, and still the French coast lay over the horizon. One would have thought the Channel was as broad as the Atlantic! Battered by thirty-foot waves, our troop carriers pitched and tossed without respite on the frothing seas. Further on, the four destroyers assigned to convoy escort duty thrashed about in the storm.

Clinging for dear life to the rail, I made a poor sentinel indeed. U-boats had been detected in the area, and I had been given strict orders to shoot the first reckless soldier who dared light a cigarette on deck. A needless precaution, in any event, for nothing could have been farther from the men’s minds. They were all far below decks, as weakened by the constant pitching and tossing as I was.

All except for Lieutenant Peakes, who was in fine fettle. The day before yesterday, he had gone to the infirmary to have a nasty cut treated. An hour later he had returned to duty, as proud as a peacock, sleeve rolled up, displaying his forearm, to whistles of admiration.

“What do you say, Dulac? Better than any tattoo, eh?”

On his discoloured skin, like an insignia, he now bore three snow-covered mountain tops. They had been embroidered with suturing thread. I immediately recognized the extraordinary meticulousness with which each petit point had been sewn, depicting to perfection the whiteness of the snow and the blackness of the rock. In the face of such mastery, I could only stare open-mouthed in admiration.

“The work of a sorceress, lieutenant. But why the mountains?”

“They are peaks, Dulac. That which is loftiest, and most noble, as Miss Nell puts it—and also my name.”

The day was dying slowly. The storm had abated, but the ships continued to pitch and toss as violently as ever. I would have given anything to set foot on terra firma. Heart in mouth, I doubled over the guardrail, rivulets of warm saliva dribbling from my lips. I pressed my index finger against my uvula, but could provoke nothing more than painful spasms.

Suddenly, from behind me came an outburst of mocking laughter that sounded like the mewing of a seagull.

“So now you are a military policeman? The red armband doesn’t really compliment your green complexion.”

I swallowed laboriously before turning around. There she was: Miss Nell, alert, with a malicious cast in her eye. Her coif, drenched with spray, framed her face, giving her the appearance of a Madonna. Appearances could hardly have been more deceiving.

“I don’t have my sea legs just yet.”

“Don’t tell me the devil has abandoned you already. What a pity! And what sweet revenge for me.”

Her head swayed as she shifted her weight from one hip to the other to keep her balance. I motioned to her to stop.

“I know what you’re trying to do. You want to worsen my condition. You are neglecting your most elementary duties, and I shall report you to your superiors.”

“Even if I wanted to treat you, there is no remedy for seasickness. On the other hand … ”

She rummaged through her pocket and from it drew a small sewing kit.

“Stitching up your lips would help suppress the symptoms.”

I recoiled.

“No, thank you. I have no desire to end up with Lake Superior embroidered on my face.”

“Why Lake Superior?”

“Dulac, of course. My name is Dulac.”

“I see. Lieutenant Peakes must have showed you his arm.”

“I knew about your talents, but I must say that in his case, you’ve outdone yourself.”

The compliment hardly seemed to impress her. She dismissed it with a shrug of the shoulders.

“Just a little diversion to keep my fingers busy.”

Seasickness was about to overcome me again; I could feel it welling up in my throat. Just then, the troop carrier hit a particularly powerful swell, for the entire deck seemed to shudder beneath my feet. To avoid being thrown into my arms, Nell grasped the handrail. The sewing kit popped from her hand and fell overboard. Now it was my turn to laugh derisively.

“A bad omen for your surgical schemes.”

“I didn’t take you for a superstitious person.”

“You are right. But I believe in Divine Providence.”

She turned on her heel and strode off, furious, then turned back.

“Now that you mention it, Lake Superior would not have been my choice for you.”

“Devil’s Lake, then?”

“No. Beaver Lake.”