For young Luke Blake, the train ride had been exciting enough, but the sight of the huge ship in front of him drove all other thoughts from his mind. The gleaming white hull, the immense smokestacks, all the people scurrying to and fro on the deck high above him. "That's the one we're going on?" he asked, the awe evident in his voice.
"Yes, that's the one," his father assured him. "She's a real beauty, isn't she?"
"Hima.. Himal.." He tried to sound out the name painted on her hull.
"Himalaya," Jean told him. "Like the mountains."
Luke nodded. "Mount Everest. Sir Edmund Hillary!" His father had read to him all about the exploits of the famous New Zealander, and Luke considered him a real hero. He thought about it some more. "A ship can't go to the Himalayas, can it?"
"No, it can't," Lucien confirmed. "You know where this one is going."
Grinning, Luke said, "To Hong Kong. To see my sister Li."
"She's looking forward to meeting you, and your mum," said Lucien, smiling at Jean. "Now, why don't we go aboard and find our cabins before she sails off without us, eh?"
Luke held his mother's hand as they ascended the ramp up to the deck of the ship, followed by a porter guiding their trolley of cases. A man wearing a uniform greeted them as Lucien handed over their boarding tickets.
"Doctor and Mrs. Blake, and son, welcome to the Himalaya, the newest and largest passenger ship in the Peninsular and Oriental Steam Navigation fleet. Off to Hong Kong, is it?"
"That's right," Lucien said.
"We at the P&O will do all we can to make your voyage a comfortable and memorable journey." He snapped his fingers, and two young men scurried over to help, one to escort them to their stateroom and the other to see to the trunks.
Lucien leaned in to speak quietly with the officer who had welcomed them aboard. "I wonder if there's any chance my son and I can peek into the wheelhouse at some point."
The man smiled down at Luke. "I'll see what we can do," he promised.
Lucien thanked the man and shook his hand, then followed Jean and Luke where their escort led.
Jean was pleasantly surprised at their quarters. The main stateroom sported a double bed with overhead lamps for reading or knitting. It also had a large sitting/dining area with a settee and comfortable chairs plus a table that seated four. Attached was a small adjoining cabin for Luke. The furniture throughout was a solid dark wood with tasteful appointments in green and gold.
She quickly unpacked their cases, helping Luke to stow away his belongings in the adjoining bedroom. "Same rules as at home," she reminded him. "If our door is closed, you knock and wait before going in, understood?"
He nodded, but she could tell he was so excited that her words barely registered with him. "Can we go back upstairs to see the ship leave?" he asked.
She looked towards Lucien, who was reading through the literature provided by the steamship company. "Why not, eh? It's traditional, after all. By the way, they've given us a map so we can track our progress on the voyage. A bit of a geography lesson."
He retrieved his hat, then thinking twice about it with the wind sure to pick up as they got out to sea, he left it behind. Emerging from the stateroom, they took a moment to get their bearings then went back up on deck where the railings were quickly crowding with passengers. Jean was pleased to see that there were a number of young children onboard, so Luke would surely find some close to his own age.
The three Blakes stood at the railing, watching the port of Sydney and the Australian coastline recede.
Luke looked up at his parents. "Neddy Tyneman said I'd get seasick. What's seasick?"
"Some people experience motion sickness from the movement of the waves. Nausea, mostly," Lucien explained. "But that won't happen to you, son. You've been on boats before with no problems, right?"
"Not big ones like this, though," Luke said.
"You're much more likely to get sick on small ones than on large ones. The big ones don't sway as much. Unless there's a very big storm, you won't be sick."
"Okay," said Luke, looking much relieved.
Jean moved closer to Lucien, and he wrapped an arm around her waist as she leaned into him. Smiling up at him she said softly, "This reminds me of our honeymoon, crossing the English Channel."
He returned the smile. "Yes. Maybe we can recreate some other memories of that time later tonight," he whispered with a growl.
"Maybe," she agreed. "Let's hope the bulkheads are soundproof."
She glanced down at Luke. He seemed to be preoccupied, watching a little girl who stood with her parents a few feet away. Jean nudged Lucien and nodded down at their son.
Lucien noted the direction of Luke's gaze. The boy had good taste. The little girl had almond-shaped eyes, long black hair and a golden complexion. Lucien leaned closer to Luke. "You should go over and introduce yourself," he said softly. "It never hurts to make friends, especially on a long sea voyage."
Luke seemed somewhat reluctant, but when Jean nodded her agreement, he walked slowly toward the Eurasian family. His parents couldn't hear the conversation, but Luke shook hands with the girl's father and nodded politely to the mother. A few minutes later, he returned with the girl herself.
"Mum, Dad, this is Maria. She's going to Hong Kong too," he advised.
"How do you do, Maria," Jean said. "It's lovely to meet you. Maybe you and Luke can play together on the way."
"Yes, ma'am," said the girl politely. "That's what my mother said, too."
"We should probably introduce ourselves, exchange cabin numbers," Lucien suggested.
"Yes, of course," said Jean.
Maria's father Michael Galban was an engineer assigned to work on a building construction project in Hong Kong so the family was moving there for a year. His wife Elena had worked for the telephone company in Sydney but expected to be a full-time housewife and mother for the year abroad.
"Galban, you say," Lucien observed. "Filipino, is it?"
Michael nodded. "How did you know?"
"I knew a chap of the same name during the war. Harry Galban."
"My uncle Harry was in Singapore when it fell," said Michael.
"Ah, so it was the same man," said Lucien, frowning.
"Uncle Harry died in a prison camp, I'm afraid."
"Yes, I know. He was a very brave man."
Michael's eyes widened as the situation dawned on him. "Uh, yes. Thank you for that."
Lucien quickly changed the subject. "Jean and I thought it might be nice for our children to play together seeing that they're close to the same age."
"Yes," added Jean. "We were afraid that Luke might be bored, spending all his time just with us while we're at sea."
"We had the same fear for Maria," Elena admitted. "Sooner or later these steamer companies will realize they need to provide entertainment for children."
"What a lovely idea," said Jean. "In the meantime, perhaps we could meet up here in the morning and make plans to keep them both occupied for the day."
"Let's," Elena agreed.
The adults glanced down at the two children who were giggling together over a woman trying to keep her floppy hat from being taken by the strong wind on deck.
"Lovely to meet you all," said Michael. "Maria, time to go below and change our clothes."
After remaining on deck until the shoreline had receded well out of sight, the Blake family returned to their stateroom to dress for dinner.
Jean sat at the tiny dressing table to do her makeup as she listened to Lucien help Luke get ready in the next room.
"Why do I have to wear a tie just to eat dinner?" Luke wondered.
"On board a ship, dinners are formal. That means everyone gets dressed up. Like for Christmas dinner, it's a special occasion," Lucien explained.
"I have to wear a tie every night?" Luke asked, obviously not happy with that idea.
"Unless we decide to have dinner here in our stateroom some night. Besides, wearing a tie isn't all that bad, is it?"
Jean smiled at her husband's tactics. Luke idolized his father, who wore a tie almost every day.
"I suppose," the boy admitted.
"I'm afraid it's one of the things you'll have to get accustomed to as you get older. Before too long you'll have to wear a tie to school every day."
"Did Christopher and Jack wear a tie to school?" Luke asked. Now that they were on the way to visit Li, he seemed obsessed with wanting to know more about his half-siblings.
"I'm sure they did," said Lucien.
"Oh." He was silent for a moment before asking quietly, "Why doesn't Jack like me, Dad?"
Jean gasped, covering her mouth with her hand and preparing to rush in to him, but Lucien responded quickly.
"Jack doesn't dislike you, son. He doesn't even know you."
"That's what I mean," Luke explained. "He won't ever come to visit, no matter how many times Mum invites him. He doesn't want to see me."
"That has nothing to do with how he feels about you, Luke."
Jean risked a quick look through the doorway to see Lucien pull their son into the circle of his arms.
"You have to remember that Jack had a difficult childhood. His father left for the war when Jack wasn't too much older than you are. And he never came back. That was very hard for Jack to accept."
"Oh. Poor Jack." He thought for a moment. "Maybe you could be a father to him, Dad."
"I would if he'd let me, but I'm afraid it doesn't work like that. Jack is still very angry at the things that happened when he was a boy. I can understand that. I was angry for many, many years after I lost my mother. I don't think I really got over it until I met your mum. Maybe some day it will change for Jack, too. Maybe when he has a family of his own. But whatever happens, none of it is your fault. Understood?"
"Understood."
"Now why don't you go show your mother how smart you look?"
Lucien held Jean's chair out for her as Luke slid into the seat next to her. She smiled up at her husband in thanks, but as she watched him take his own seat, she saw the woman in the chair next to him glare over at Luke and then sniff imperiously. Not a fan of children, obviously.
The woman appeared to be somewhere in her sixties with blue, waved hair, too much makeup and over-large earrings. She obviously believed children should be neither seen nor heard, since Luke's only words thus far had been to thank his father for helping him pull his chair up to the table and yet the woman was still irritated with him. Jean was about to make her own displeasure known, but before she could speak Lucien introduced himself to their fellow passenger.
"Good evening. Doctor Lucien Blake. This is my lovely wife, Jean, and our son, Luke. Are you enjoying the voyage so far?"
The woman sniffed again, but Lucien was flashing her his most engaging smile. She clearly found it difficult to resist. "Hello, Doctor. I'm Josephine Moreau. Yes, the voyage has been quite pleasant, so far," she said, glancing down at Luke with disapproval once again. Luckily he was busy looking around the room and did not notice.
"Moreau, you say. French?" And as Lucien turned on the charm, Jean watched with amusement as the haughty dowager melted before him like overly warm butter. He even managed a sly wink in Jean's direction while Mrs. Moreau was pulling out photographs of herself and her late husband in St. Tropez.
The others arrived at their table and once the woman was engaged in conversation elsewhere, Lucien could return his attention to his family.
Jean smiled at him in gratitude for diffusing the situation without Luke being involved, then turned to peruse the menu. "Broiled grouper or grilled pork chops. Since this trip is supposed to be about new experiences, I suppose I'll have to try the grouper."
"What's grouper?" Luke asked.
"It's a type of fish," she explained. "What do you think? Would you like to try it?"
"Okay," he said. "I want new experiences too."
Jean smiled. "And since I'm sure Dad will order the pork chops, if you don't like the grouper, I'll bet he will share his meat with you."
She looked at Lucien with sympathy. The first time she had prepared fish for dinner, he had not touched it, and had, in fact, left the table rather abruptly. When she questioned him later in private, he'd admitted that the fishy smell provoked painful memories of the prison camp, when frequently the only protein they were given was rotting fish. All these years later, fish and chips was about all he could manage.
"I think I'll like the grouper," Luke said firmly. They had always encouraged him to try new foods, and consequently he was an adventurous eater. "You can try some of mine, Dad."
Lucien said gently, "As a matter of fact, son, I've had grouper before. Thank you anyway."
While they waited for the food to arrive, Luke spotted his new friend Maria and her parents on the other side of the room. He gave her a shy wave, which she returned.
He turned to his mother. "Maria said she's a bit afraid of living in Hong Kong."
"Oh, that's too bad," Jean sympathized. "Did she say why?"
"She's never been there and she doesn't know anyone."
"I'm sure it won't take her very long to make friends, a sweet girl like her," Jean told him.
"It must be hard, moving to a new place like that."
"Yes, I suppose so," said Jean, not ever having had the experience herself. As much as she'd always wanted to see the world, she couldn't really imagine leaving her home country to move somewhere else, especially as a child. She remembered how apprehensive she'd been even at the idea of moving to Adelaide to help Christopher and Ruby after Amelia was born, and she was a mature woman.
"Ah, here we are,"said Lucien, as two waiters approached with a trolley loaded with covered plates.
Jean noted that Mrs. Moreau was having the grouper as well, which meant Lucien would be subjected to the aroma of fish from all sides. At least it was served with a fragrant lemon and caper sauce, which mitigated the smell to a degree. She felt a bit guilty in that she found the meal delightful even as she could see Lucien's discomfort. She feared the smell might bring on his frightful dreams later tonight. They were highly infrequent now, but still happened every once in a while.
Luke also seemed to be enjoying his dinner, eating every bite of the grouper and even finishing the mixed veg served alongside it. He grinned up at her as he lifted the final forkful to his mouth.
"The sea air must agree with you," she told him. "Good job."
"I like grouper," he decided.
She slid the last portion of it from her own plate to his.
He grinned at her. "Thanks, mum."
"Leave some room for pudding." She nodded at the trolley laden with sweets that was being brought to them.
His eyes lit up at the selection of trifles, tarts, and the like.
"Just one, for tonight," Jean cautioned. "There will be plenty of time on this trip to try the others."
He had a difficult time deciding between a chocolate gateau and a blackberry tart. When he settled on the gateau, Lucien took the tart and offered to let the boy finish it after only a couple of bites.
Jean knew he would do almost anything to make his son happy but nonetheless worried that all the rich food might not be a good idea for Luke. Maybe she would have Lucien deal with it if Luke came down with tummy troubles as a result.
Jean could never be certain how much her husband actually slept of a given night. Their normal sleeping position was with him spooned against her back, one arm draped across her mid-section, so if she woke and turned to look and found him smiling gently at her, she could never tell if her movement had roused him or if he had been awake all along.
in any case, when Luke called out, Lucien was already moving toward the connecting door by the time her eyes opened. When he turned the door handle, a rather miserable-looking boy stood in the doorway.
Lucien knelt beside him. "What is it, mate?" he asked gently.
"I think I'm seasick," he groaned.
Thinking it was all the rich food disagreeing with him, Jean sat up and swung her legs to the side of the bed, preparing to rise. Suddenly she felt her own stomach lurch uncomfortably. She groaned, bringing Lucien's attention to her as well. He swept Luke up into his arms and carried him to the bed.
"Now then, what's all this?" he asked.
Luke gulped, holding his hand over his mouth. "I'm going to…" he began.
Jean stared at Lucien, nodding toward the bathroom, and quickly he took Luke there. Jean could hear her son heaving, and the sound made her want to do the same.
When he had presumably emptied his stomach contents, Luke shuffled back into the bedroom, tears in his eyes.
"Come here, sweetheart," Jean said softly, holding out her arms to him, her own discomfort forgotten for the moment.
Lucien emerged a moment later, carrying a glass of water for Luke. He had a puzzled look on his face.
"What?" she asked.
"This isn't seasickness," he said.
"Are you sure?"
He nodded, holding his hand out, palm parallel to the deck. "No rolling. The water is calm. This is something else. Any other symptoms?" He bent down to Luke's eye level. "Does your head hurt, son? Are you dizzy?"
The poor boy nodded, holding one hand to his forehead while the other still clutched at his stomach. He blinked a couple of times.
Jean raised an eyebrow to Lucien. So far she only felt the nausea herself. "Flu?" she asked.
"It's certainly possible," he admitted, "but too early to say for sure."
Jean put a hand to Luke's forehead, but he didn't seem to have a fever. "He doesn't feel warm," she told Lucien.
"Rest and extra fluids for now," said Lucien. "If he isn't feeling any better in the morning, I'll take him to the sick bay and we can have a closer look." Under his breath he sighed. "I need my medical bag."
Jean had seen it before, how helpless he felt when he didn't have what he needed to assist someone. She gave him an understanding smile, then slid back down in the bed and held her arms out to Luke. The boy snuggled up next to her.
Lucien was about to join them when they were all startled by a soft knock at the door to their stateroom. He quickly donned his dressing gown and opened the door a crack. He had a brief conversation with the person outside.
"What's going on?" she asked him as he walked back toward the bed.
"It seems there's an outbreak of some kind on the ship," he explained. "That was the second officer. He said there are at least a dozen people complaining of symptoms, and he asked for my help."
"Where's the ship's doctor?" asked Jean.
"No one seems to know. They think he must be ill as well." He paused and sat down on the bed. "Jean, do you feel well enough to look after Luke?"
"I'm fine, dear. You go, see to the people that need you."
He still seemed reluctant to leave them, placing a hand on Luke's forehead to assure himself again that there was no fever. Finally he nodded firmly. "All right, but if either of you begins to feel worse, send for me, yes?"
"I promise," she told him.
He kissed her on the lips and Luke on the top of his head, then began to dress.
After again reminding her to send a steward for him if she or Luke grew more ill, Lucien reluctantly left his family to use his skills for others on the ship.
Jean could see how torn he was, but she knew he would do his best to help everyone.
As the door closed behind him, she turned her attention to their son. "How are you feeling, sweetie?" she asked him. "Do you think you can get a little more sleep?"
"I'll try," he said. "My stomach still feels bad though."
Jean knew what he meant. Her own nausea persisted, but she felt that if she managed a few hours of sleep she might well wake up feeling better.
After seeing Luke doze off, she allowed herself to fall asleep.
It seemed like only moments later that his groans woke her.
"What is it, sweetheart?" she asked gently, again feeling his forehead for a fever. He didn't seem to have one but his pyjamas were soaked through from sweating, and he shook with chills.
"I feel crook," he moaned.
Jean herself still felt nauseous and her joints seemed to ache.
"I think we need your dad to take another look at you," she told him.
Luke nodded miserably.
Donning her dressing gown, Jean went out into the passageway, looking for a steward. She spotted him several doors down, speaking with another passenger. As he closed that door, she waved to get his attention.
"Mrs. Blake, isn't it?" he said quietly. Around them most of the passengers were still sleeping.
She motioned him into their stateroom where they could speak more freely.
"My son is doing poorly," she explained, motioning toward the ill boy. "The doctor advised me to send for him if Luke took a turn for the worse."
The young steward (Jean judged him to be somewhere in his early twenties) looked most uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Blake, but it appears almost half the passengers and many of the crew are also ill. The doctor has his hands full. I'll tell you what, why don't I take Luke to him? I'll carry him to sick bay and you can accompany us. That way the doctor won't have to leave all the other patients."
Knowing how guilty Lucien would feel if he abandoned the others to see to his son, Jean agreed that was probably the best solution. She helped Luke into a dressing gown, pausing once to help him to the bathroom where again he was sick. She debated whether to get dressed herself, but decided if so many others were sick as well, she wouldn't be terribly out of place in her dressing gown. The priority was getting Luke seen to.
There was a queue of passengers waiting not very patiently to get into sick bay, but nevertheless the steward offered apologies and maneuvered his way inside. The area was as clean and shining as the rest of the new steamship. The problem seemed to be that it wasn't very large; there were only six berths, four of which were currently occupied, and the consulting area had barely enough room for three people at a time in addition to the doctor.
The steward placed Luke on one of the empty beds and directed Lucien's attention to him. Lucien nodded but then gasped as he recognized his latest patient. When he turned to Jean, she became nearly as concerned about him as she was for Luke. His eyes were overly bright, almost frantic, and she could tell he was becoming overwhelmed at the situation.
She rested a hand on Luke's forehead and whispered to him, "I'm just going to tell your dad what happened. I'll be right back, yes?"
He nodded miserably that he understood.
She squeezed her way over to where Lucien was telling his current patient to return to her stateroom, drink plenty of fluids and take a powder for the pain in her joints.
Before the next patient came forward, Jean rested a hand on Lucien's shoulder. "Are you all right?" she asked him. "What's going on?"
He paused to take a deep breath and brought himself under control with some effort. "The nearest I can tell, it's ciguatera poisoning. From the grouper at dinner I suspect, but I don't have the time or equipment to confirm it. Luke is worse?"
Jean nodded. "Is there an antidote, some medicine to treat it?"
"Not really. All I can do is treat the symptoms. For most people, it's simply a matter of resting, staying hydrated and waiting for the toxins to be eliminated from the body."
"And for the others?"
He inclined his head toward those in the bunks. "Gastric lavage. Er, pumping their stomachs. Jean, I'm sorry, I have to see to these patients. I'll check on Luke right after I finish with this gentleman."
When Lucien turned to check over the elderly man, she squeezed his forearm to reassure him then returned to Luke's side. Her practical nature led her to spot the nearest basin that could be used if Luke needed to empty his stomach contents again. The poor boy was moaning softly, both arms wrapped around his midsection. He was beginning to sweat again, so she found a soft cloth that she could soak in cool water. She smoothed it gently over his face and neck as she waited for Lucien to see to him.
Her own stomach lurched, but she managed to ignore it, focusing instead on her boys. Luke continued to clutch at his middle, while Lucien tried to reason with the old man, who was insisting he was a friend of the captain and therefore deserved special treatment. Jean could see her husband trying to hold his temper in check and he finally signaled to one of the porters, who moved forward to escort the man away.
As Jean watched, Lucien paused a moment and straightened his waistcoat, a gesture that she knew indicated he was trying to regain his composure. Then he moved toward Luke's bunk. He tried to smile at Jean, but it was clearly forced.
"Lucien?" she said softly.
"Yes. Now, what's going on here?" he asked, sitting on the edge of the bunk and resting a hand on Luke's forehead.
She noted a slight tremor in his hand, and her worry escalated. She had never seen him like this.
"Dad, my stomach really hurts," Luke told him in a tiny voice.
"I know, son. Now, if you feel like you want to vomit, go ahead and do that. Best thing for you." He turned to Jean. "My dear, please just treat the symptoms. I'm going to give him a powder for the pain. Keep him warm, and plenty of fluids - water, tea, or anything else he will take. Same for you. And all the rest you can get, yes?"
"Yes, of course," said Jean. She lowered her voice. "Lucien, will you be all right?"
"Um… I'm fine, Jean. Now, let me get someone to carry Luke back to our stateroom." He leaned closer and said quietly, "Some of these people are critically ill. We don't want him here if the worst happens."
Jean's eyes widened. She hadn't realized quite how serious it was. She agreed that their son was too young to be a witness to someone's passing. "Right," she said.
As the crewman lifted Luke to carry him back, Jean stepped forward to kiss Lucien's cheek. "I love you," she whispered.
He looked at her and managed a genuine smile before turning his attention to the next patient.
The crewman deposited Luke on their bed, then turned to Jean. "Will there be anything else, Mrs. Blake?"
Jean led him toward the door to be out of Luke's hearing, then said quietly, "Have you located the ship's doctor? What's happened to him?"
"Yes, we found him," the man said, looking thoroughly embarrassed. "He was, er, with a young woman. One of the passengers. The captain ordered him confined to his cabin for the rest of the voyage."
Jean was indignant. "You tell the captain for me that his shop's doctor should be doing his job. It's an emergency, for Heaven's sake! My husband is driving himself crazy trying to handle all those patients when he thinks he should be attending to his own son. And if you won't tell him that, you send your captain here and I'll tell him that and more!"
The crewman cowered under her wrath. "Yes, ma'am." He couldn't leave quickly enough.
Still fuming, Jean moved back to Luke's side.
"Mum?"
"It's fine, sweetheart," she assured him. "Now, Dad says we need to drink as much as possible. Would you like some water or maybe a nice cuppa to help you sleep?"
Mother and son had both managed to doze off and were sound asleep when Lucien let himself back into the stateroom. He was bone tired, so weary that it was an effort to place one foot in front of the other. All he wanted was a bed, and yet her knew that sleep would bring its own horrors. After what he'd been through, he could feel the night terrors pressing in all around him, just waiting for him to let down his guard.
The darkness briefly retreated as he looked upon Jean and Luke curled up together and sound asleep. He walked over to them and softly kissed Jean's temple, then rested a hand on Luke's forehead. He seemed better, with no sweating or cramping. Perhaps the worst was over.
He cringed, as another small form appeared before him, this one a petite female with dark hair and almond-shaped eyes that stared lifelessly at him. Trembling, he backed up, through the doorway into Luke's cabin. His hands shook as he closed the door softly, then he sank down onto the bunk and buried his face in the pillow as his emotions overwhelmed him.
Jean awoke slowly, feeling there was someone she should see to. She sat up and looked at her son, sleeping peacefully now after moving restlessly for hours. His pyjamas seemed dry, so he was no longer perspiring heavily, and his arms were flung out from his sides, not clutching his stomach. She herself also felt much better. Tired, from her broken sleep, but no longer nauseous. Maybe she would try to get a little more sleep before she went in search of her husband.
She lay back down and adjusted her pillow, but just as she closed her eyes, she heard a sound and realized that was what had awoken her. It was muffled, but resembled a cry of anguish. She tried to remember where she'd heard it before, as it was faintly familiar. When it came again, she knew. Lucien…
She sat up again and looked around, only then realizing that the door to Luke's tiny cabin was closed. Standing, she shrugged into her robe and hurried toward him. She took a deep breath to brace herself before opening the door.
He was face down on the bed, a pillow clutched around his head as he rocked from side to side. He was mumbling something, but with the pillow pressed against his face, she couldn't make out what he was saying. Briefly she wondered how he could even breath.
Moving over to the bed, she sat down slowly beside him and rested a tentative hand upon his shoulder. When he did not react, she moved it higher to actually hold onto the shoulder, and she shook it gently. "Lucien, my darling," she said quietly, not wanting to startle him but hoping to bring him out of the nightmare.
He rolled over and removed the pillow to look up at her, a tortured expression on his face, and she realized he had not been asleep. This wasn't night terrors, it was something else entirely.
She bent down to hug him, but he was stiff as a board and did not return the embrace. It was then she recognized the look in his eyes: self-loathing.
"Tell me what happened," she urged him, keeping her voice soft for now.
"I failed them. So many I couldn't save. They needed me, but I didn't… I couldn't… So many deaths, good soldiers, so young. I couldn't save them. I did my best, but I'm not good enough."
Then she knew. What had that medical book called it? A flashback. Something had happened this night that caused his mind to think he was back in the camp. She remembered that he should be grounded in the present to bring him back.
She reached for him, taking his head between her hands and looking him directly in the eye.
"Lucien, it's me, Jean," she told him. "Look at me, please."
He was staring at her but still not seeing her. She leaned in closer so that he could smell her. He had often told her that he loved the scent of her shampoo and the perfume she wore. She just hoped there was enough left for him to recognize.
She waited for a moment then wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against his chest and then reaching up to caress the hairs at the back of his neck. She could hear his heart racing wildly.
Slowly she felt him begin to soften, his heart rate to slow, and finally he put his arms around her as well and leaned down to kiss the top of her head.
"Jean, my love," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."
"Enough of that now," she told him, putting a finger against his lips.
He blinked rapidly a few times, then turned away from her. For just a moment he'd forgotten, but now the sight of that small, lifeless body was back to haunt him. He tried to hide his face in his hands, but Jean refused to let him avoid her.
"Tell me what happened," she said softly. "Whatever it was, I know you did the best you could."
Tears welled in his eyes again. It was so difficult to tell her this, especially with the image so fresh in his mind, so relentless before him.
Jean patted his chest, encouraging him to share his burden with her.
He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before he could manage the words. "It was too late when they brought her to me," he said, a sob in his voice. "She was already in convulsions. I tried to bring her back, but she…" He shook his head violently. "She was Luke's age! What could I tell her parents? It could just as easily have been our son, Jean."
She gasped. "Little Maria? She's…"
Lucien could only nod, agony in his eyes.
"It was the same poisoning, ciguatera?" She was shocked. She hadn't realized… Lucien was right, it could have been Luke instead!
But right now Luke was better, and it was Lucien at risk. She needed to make sure he didn't return to the dark place that could so easily claim him.
"i'll talk to the Galbans in the morning," she told him. "Offer them our sympathy and see if there's anything we can do for them. In the meantime, you should go wash up, change into your pyjamas, then come to bed with Luke and me."
"As lovely as that sounds, I'm not sure it's a good idea," he said. "I could, well… It's probably safer for me to sleep alone."
"Nonsense," Jean said firmly. "You need us and we need you. Now, off you go."
Jean scooted into the middle of the bed so that Lucien could slip in behind her. She doubted he would become violent in his sleep - it hadn't happened in all the years of their marriage - but she would stay between him and Luke to keep their son absolutely safe.
His footfalls were heavy approaching the bed, as though even the act of walking that short distance required an effort. She turned her head to give him a tentative smile as he slid beneath the covers. Lucien kissed her cheek, then tucked his head to nuzzle into her hair as he draped an arm around her midsection.
"Try to sleep," she urged. "We'll deal with the rest of it in the morning."
He murmured, "I love you." Then they both lay awake for some time before sleep claimed them.
Jean awoke slowly. Before she opened her eyes, she felt Lucien's arm around her, a little tighter than usual as his soft breaths fanned the hair behind her ear. It seemed he was not exactly peaceful, but at least he was sleeping. And if his hold on her gave him a measure of security, she didn't actually mind; in fact she found it comforting herself.
She opened her eyes slowly to see Luke sprawled out in his usual sleeping pose, which reassured her no end. He must be feeling better - at least he was no longer clutching his midsection. After the turmoil of the previous night, perhaps things were beginning to settle down for the Blake family. She knew Maria's death would continue to haunt Lucien, and Luke would probably feel lingering effects of the illness for a while, even if the worst was behind him, but all in all they had come through it.
She would gladly lay there basking in love for her family had not her bladder demanded attention. How to extricate herself without waking them, that was the immediate issue. She first tried to slither out from under Lucien's arm. He grumbled his discontent at the loss of contact, and for a moment she thought he might continue to sleep, but his eyes opened, holding a question.
Jean put a finger to her lips and nodded toward Luke, who slept on, then pointed toward the tiny bathroom. Lucien nodded, heaving himself out of bed so she could get around him more easily. As she passed, he took hold of her hand and pulled it to his mouth for a quick kiss. She smiled in appreciation before hurrying to the bathroom.
Returning, she peered at the tiny clock beside the bed. Past ten o'clock. Had she ever been in bed so late if she wasn't sick or in childbirth? Time to get moving or the whole day would be gone. Lucien seemed to have the same idea, as he was sorting out his clothes for the day. She frowned upon seeing he had chosen a suit rather than the casual shirt and linen trousers that had been packed for wearing onboard the ship. He was certainly in no shape emotionally to be seeing patients.
He noticed her disapproval, and motioned her away from the bed so they could talk without waking Luke. "I have a meeting with the captain," he explained, "and I need to look in on the Galbans, see if there's anything I can do for them."
"I'd like to go with you for that one," Jean said quietly. She wanted to offer her condolences to the grieving parents, as well as provide support for Lucien in what was sure to be a difficult conversation.
"Yes, of course, if you feel up to it," said Lucien. "I'm certain Mrs. Galban in particular would appreciate your company.."
She thought for amoment. They couldn't leave Luke alone. She glanced at their sleeping son.
Lucien understood. "I'll speak with the captain first, then meet you back here. We'll figure it out, love."
He was not one to exercise privilege on a whim, but he decided that he'd earned the right for a little extra attention. On his way back from the bridge, he flagged down a young steward, asking him to stay with Luke while he and Jean went to see the Galbans.
"What did the captain have to say?" Jean asked him as they walked down the corridor.
"We're headed back to Sydney at the request of those who've lost loved ones," Lucien explained.
"Oh!" said Jean. She hadn't been prepared for that. "We'd better contact Li and Mei Lin as soon as we can, let them know not to expect us."
"With our fare refunded, I thought we might consider flying to Hong Kong instead," Lucien murmured distractedly, his mind clearly preoccupied with the conversation ahead.
"Plenty of time to decide that," said Jean, rubbing her hand up and down his arm to comfort him.
The conversation with the Galbans was just as difficult as they both knew it would be. Jean allowed Elena to cry on her shoulder and tell her all about what a lovely child Maria was, while Lucien sat with Michael, drinks in both their hands as Michael tried not to let his tears fall. It was all they could do for the grieving parents.
The Blakes returned to their own stateroom, and after thanking and tipping the young steward, they looked to their son, feeling grateful that his poisoning had not been worse. They had decided not to tell Luke about Maria unless he asked, or unless they ran across the Galbans before they reached Sydney, which seemed highly unlikely.
"How are you feeling this morning?" Lucien asked him.
"Better," said Luke decisively. He nodded to underscore the point. "Mum, how are you?"
"I'm much better. I think most of it is out of my system now."
"Mine, too," said Luke.
He stared at his father for a moment, and Lucien realized this must be how Luke and Jean felt when he did the same to them, trying to gauge their condition. "Well, then, I have some news. Because of all the ill passengers, we're headed back to Sydney."
"We aren't going to Hong Kong to see Li?" asked Luke, clearly disappointed.
"Not on this ship anyway," Lucien confirmed.
"On another ship then?" Luke asked hopefully.
"Possibly, said Jean. "Or how about on an aeroplane?"
His eyes lit up. "Really? We could fly on a plane?"
"I take it you like that idea," said Lucien, smiling at Jean.
"Yes!"
"Well, I guess it's settled then," said Jean. "Now let's get you dressed for the day, if you're feeling better."
"You wouldn't want to take a tour of the bridge in your pyjamas," said Lucien.
"The bridge?"
Lucien nodded. "Where they run the ship. The captain himself has offered to show us around."
"Let's go!" said Luke, he started for his own cabin to get his clothes, but then turned back and ran over to where his parents were standing and threw an arm around each of them.
Both Jean and Lucien had tears in their eyes as he turned away. Their son would be fine. Their family would be fine. They were together.
Author's Note: I've had this story in my files for a while. I'm not entirely happy with it, but since there aren't a lot of stories being posted currently I would submit it anyway.