Maiden Voyage

SIXTY-EIGHT

Coney Island appeared through the warm summer mist at 7:56 on Saturday morning, after a night when the ocean had been warm and dark as treacle, with the Arcadia sliding over her at high speed. To Catriona, as she stood with Mark by the forward rail to catch her first glimpse of the Statue of Liberty, the Arcadia's maiden voyage now seemed to have been curiously short, a strange abrupt interval of fantasy, what the German passengers would have called an Augenblick, a blink of the eye.

After hearing last night who Philip Carter-Helm really was, and what Catriona proposed to do, Mark had agreed, a little reluctantly, to postpone the announcement of their engagement. But this morning when she had woken up, the ship's florist has brought her heaps of trembling gardenias, over a hundred of them, with the message "I Adore You. So There."

Catriona had left a note under Philip's door begging him to call her, and she had asked Monty Willowby to catch his arm if he should see him. But there had been no reply to the note, and Philip had not appeared at breakfast. As the Arcadia neared New York, Catriona was beginning to grow anxious that she would not be able to find him, let alone persuade him to help her with her proposition. Once the ship had docked and he had gone ashore, it could very well be too late; and she was terrified that Keys might have to go to George Welterman by default.

"Maybe I'd better go hunt for him," suggested Mark.

"If he doesn't want to be found, he won't be," said Catriona. "You might just as well try and look for someone in the middle of Fulham on market day."

"But we have to try."

"I don't know. I have a feeling that he'll turn up," said Catriona. "If he doesn't, we'll just have to wait by the gangplanks when the passengers disembark."

"He has to be somewhere."

"Well, he's probably in his stateroom thinking things over. He's just not answering, that's all."

"Maybe Willowby could use his passkey."

"I suppose he could. But I don't want to upset him. He was upset enough as it was."

They smoked cigarettes and waited for twenty minutes longer. "That's Ambrose Light," said Mark. "It won't be long now, and you'll see the Statue of Liberty."

"Do you think we've won the Blue Riband?" Catriona asked.

Dick Charles, who was standing quite close behind her, said, "D-don't t-tempt fate, Miss K-Keys; but I th-think that Sir Peregrine has been k-keeping us up to twenty-eight knots for the past twenty-four hours. So we m-may..."

At that moment, however, a swirl of sharp-smelling smoke blew around the deck, and almost simultaneously a woman screeched out, "Fire! My God, there's a fire in the first-class cabins!"

Mark gripped Catriona's arm, and ordered, "Stay here!" but Catriona followed closely behind him as he hurried through the crowds of cabin-class passengers who were lining the rail. Ralph Peel came out a on deck as they reached the first-class staircase, and he was holding a megaphone.

"Nothing to worry about!" he called. "Just a bit of carpet! No need to disturb yourselves, ladies and gentlemen!"

Catriona panted, "What's happening?"

"Don't quite know, Miss Keys, to tell you the truth. But Monty Willowby said there was someone locked in a first-class stateroom, and smoke pouring out from under the door. They've got four or five chaps down there now, trying to break the door down."

"Oh my God," said Catriona. "It's Philip."

"What?" frowned Mark.

"It's Philip!" said Catriona. "It must be!"

Without waiting, she hurried down the staircase, kicked off her shoes, and ran on stockinged feet along the first-class corridor. As she ran, the fire siren began hooting, loudly and plaintively, like a tortured sea lion, and there was the sound of running feet on the deck above them.

The corridor was already half filled with smoke, and as Catriona turned the corner, with Mark running close up behind her, there was a sudden billow of dense, thick-smelling fumes, so that she could hardly make out what was happening.

Her intuition had been right. The smoke was pouring from under the door of Philip Carter-Helm's cabin, and Monty Willowby and four seamen were hacking at the woodwork with fire-axes. So far, they had made little impression on it. It was built of solid mahogany, with bronze panelling; and it had been firmly locked and bolted from the inside.

"No place for you here, miss," said Monty Willowby, raising his arm to keep Catriona away. "He must have a right old blaze going on in there, judging by the smoke. Regular bonfire."

"Have you heard anything from him?" asked Catriona. "Has anybody spoken to him?"

"Timmins heard him say to go away, but that was all, miss."

"Well, please, let me get near. I must try and talk to him."

Monty looked over Catriona's shoulder at Mark. "Got to watch this smoke, miss. Smoke can choke you quicker'n fire can burn you."

"Just for one minute," Catriona insisted.

Mark nodded, and Monty called out to the seamen, "Belay it with the axes there, you chaps!"

The chopping and banging stopped, and Catriona went right up to the cabin door.

"Philip!" she called. "Philip! It's Catriona!"

There was no answer; but from inside the cabin they could hear a popping, crackling sound, as if the furniture and curtains were well alight.

"Philip! You must open the door! We've thought of a way to work everything out!"

Still, there was no answer. Monty Willowby took Catriona's arm and said, "Better let us try to get in there, Miss Keys. Poor fellow must be suffocated by now, and we have to think of the ship."

Catriona called out once more, "Philip, please! For father's sake! Please!"

Without warning, the cabin door was unlocked; it opened a little way, but held on its security chain. Philip appeared, red-eyed, naked to the waist, and sweating. Behind him, smoke was gushing out from the bedroom, and Catriona could see the bright flicker of flames licking up the curtains.

"Philip, for God's sake open the door!"

Philip coughed, and shook his head. "Leave me alone. I know what I'm doing. Go away."

"But Philip, the ship! You're going to burn the ship!"

"That's exactly what I intend to do. Now go away. I'm going to close the door."

Catriona reached quickly into the gap, and clung on to the edge of the door.

"You'll have to close it on my fingers if you do. You're my brother, Philip, and I'm not going to let you die."

"Half-brother," said Philip slurrily. "Now get your hand out of there."

"Philip, listen," said Catriona. Her eyes were streaming from the smoke, and she could feel the heat of the air which was pouring out of the gap in the doorway.

"No, Miss Keys, you listen," he told her. He sounded drugged and asthmatic from the smoke. "You listen to someone who really knew what kind of a man your father was. Cut me off, after all those years; cut me off and told me never to come near him again. A son should support his father without question, that's what he said. But you... you got everything—and you didn't even have to love him."

He went into a short hacking coughing fit. Monty Willowby said, "Please, Miss Keys," but Catriona raised her hand to keep him back.

Philip leaned against the side of the door. "Cut me off," he said, and coughed again. "And if you sold Keys to IMM... well, you and your mother would still be rich, out of money that I worked for... an inheritance that should have been mine... Couldn't have that... But if you won't sell to Mark Beeney, then you won't... won't give me the pleasure of watching Keys Shipping being ruined... so—"

There was a flare-up of flames inside the cabin. Philip turned to try and close the door; but he collapsed, first on to his knees, then on to his back.

Monty Willowby said, "Bill, there you are," and with one blow the burliest of the four seamen had chopped through the security chain on the door, and opened it.

Mark came forward abruptly and said, "Here, I'll take him," and hefted Philip on to his shoulders. Catriona stayed close beside him as he carried Philip along the corridor and up the staircase into the fresh air.

"Get me a blanket!" he called; and Baroness Zawisza swept across with a plaid deck-chair rug, which Mark spread out on the deck. He laid Philip carefully down on it and quickly checked his respiration and his pulse. Philip coughed and snuffled and groaned.

"He's all right," said Mark. "Breathed in some smoke, that's all. But he should get over it."

The first-class passengers crowded round in curiosity and consternation. Sir Terence Harding-Crump said, "Do wish they'd tone the whole thing down a bit. Storms, fires. Might as well sail on an Italian ship."

Dr. Fields came up with his bag and examined Philip as he lay on the deck. He lifted his eyelids with his thumb, and said, "Have you been taking any pills, old man?"

Philip nodded.

"Well, then, we'd better get you straight down to the ship's hospital. I'm afraid I'm going to have to empty your stomach for you. Can't have chaps dying, you know. It's against regulations."

Philip turned to Catriona, who was kneeling dose beside him. "I suppose I ought to say that I'm sorry," he said through thick lips.

"Yes," said Catriona, taking his hand. "I think you ought to."

At that moment, George Welterman appeared to see what was going on; and he timed his arrival perfectly. Standing as he was quite close to Catriona, in anticipation of being able to help her up, and perhaps to take her hand, he was able to hear her quite dearly as she told Philip what she and Mark had decided.

"We're not going to sell Keys Shipping to IMM. Never. And we're not going to hide what happened to the Orange, and all of those other ships, either. Perhaps it'll ruin father's reputation; but then he didn't really deserve that reputation, did he? The Arcadia will still be sailing across the Atlantic long after all of this is forgotten, and she can be his reputation."

"What will you do?" asked Philip. Two seamen had brought over a stretcher now, and were unfolding it beside him.

"I'll tell you all the details later." Catriona smiled. "But Mark will buy the Arcadia; and he'll guarantee Keys' debts for five years, in exchange for a twenty-five per cent share of common stock. My stock, which I'm quite happy to give him. Particularly since we're going to be married.

"And there's one thing more. Mark would like to see someone really competent put in charge of Keys Shipping; someone who could oversee all the refitting of old ships, and plan to build new ships, and make the company profitable again. Someone who really cares about the company."

George Welterman was staring at Catriona with a face like a white theatrical mask; and when Edgar Deacon appeared next to him, he clutched Edgar's wrist so tightly that Edgar yelped, "What? What is it?" and tried to tug himself away.

The two seamen were carrying Philip down to the hospital now. Catriona touched his grimy forehead and said very softly, "I need you, Philip. I want you to succeed where father failed. Our father."

Mark and Catriona watched Philip taken away. But then Edgar came up to them, and he was stiff and pale and his fists were clenched.

"George just told me what you've been saying," he announced.

Mark put his arm around Catriona and grinned. "George was always excellent at eavesdropping. But, yes, it's true."

"For your information, Miss Keys, you have neither the authority nor the voting power to do it."

Mark turned to Catriona and beamed even more broadly. "I think you'll find, Mr. Deacon, that Miss Keys has all the supporting votes she needs. Her own twenty-five per cent, plus Thistle Maritime, with five per cent, plus a little collection of trusts and insurance companies who all happen to be colleagues and associates of Mr. Philip Carter-Helm, with nineteen per cent."

Edgar said stiffly, "I think you'll find that you're still a fraction short of a majority, Miss Keys. I already have your mother's assurance that she will support whatever course of action I recommend. And I scarcely think that she will be in favour of passing the management of the company into the hands of Mr. Keys' illegitimate son by her own sister, do you?"

Catriona said, 'Whatever my mother thinks, Philip Carter-Helm's mother thinks differently. I'm sorry, Mr. Deacon, but this plan is a fait-accompli. I've already had a wireless message this morning from Aunt Isabelle saying that she will vote in favour of selling the Arcadia to American TransAtlantic. Her two per cent gives us at least fifty-one per cent; and that's even supposing that Mr. Fearson and Mr. Thurrock don't vote with us, which I believe they will."

Mark said to Edgar, "Miss Keys, you see, will remain mistress of the Arcadia; and, after winning the ship herself, that's what I wanted more than anything."

Edgar stood where he was, saying nothing at all. His eyes were like two black stones.

At last he said, "Don't think for one moment that you've heard the end of this," and he turned on his heel and stalked off.

"British India to the finish," said Mark, and hugged Catriona close.