Sometimes big chances in life go hand in hand with big challenges or sacrifices. Mick gets a good job opportunity but there are some serious downsides.
The title song is "Wind Took My Sail" by Sophie Zelmani. The lyrics don't fit the story 100% - but there will always be a bit of wind in Mick Carpenter's sail, at least at this stage of his life, and he'll always be happy to be swept along with the waves and the wind to see what will happen ...
I don't understand why I'm leaving you
I don't understand what I'm doing
Must follow what has gone from you
Over sea it is moving
I don't know what's gonna meet me there
I don't know where I'm going
All I find is that my heart's not here
If I stay, you'll be lonely
The sail got wind in it and
I need to see where it goes
Yes the wind took my sail and I
Need to go where it blows
„That's settled, then. See you at the Liberté on the first of August." Monsieur Jaffré shook my hand and I left his small office at the company's headquarters by the Brest docks with a polite greeting and mixed feelings about what I'd just done.
I had been sailing up and down the Atlantic coast for more than a year with various cargo carriers in the small fleet of Le Bihan, a familial, up-and-coming shipping company in Brest, toiling as hard as I could, knowing that our officers were usually generous in recommending a good worker for a pay raise or even a promotion.
Weatherby, the seasoned third mate from Jersey who had been my superior aboard the Comte d'Anjou, had encouraged me to apply for a better position. "You're a born sailor if I've ever seen one", he told me, "and it'd be a shame if you remained a lowly deckhand. You're not afraid of hard work, you've got a clever head on your shoulders, and I think you'll make a good boatswain or more once you're a couple of years older. I'll have a word with Claude when we're back in Brest. I might have an idea what to do with you."
As I found out, Claude Jaffré was the person in charge of hiring personnel for the new overseas service the company was setting up. They were planning a co-operation with a shipping company in Boston. The first overseas carrier, a cargo vessel that would also take on a few passengers, was supposed to be launched in August, and there were still a few vacancies to be filled among the crew. They were lacking able seamen, and although I didn't have the formal training, they were ready to rely on Weatherby's recommendation and take me on as a day worker for the Liberté's maiden trip across the Atlantic.
The only bad thing about this was that I'd be away for the best part of six months, as we weren't only going to make the journey across the ocean and back but sail on down the US coast from Boston to drop off and pick up goods and passengers at several other ports on that side of the Atlantic before we'd go back east.
I wasn't too keen on being away for such a long time, but the pay was very good, much better than what I currently earned, which meant we could finally afford to settle down in our own home. Additionally, the promotion would be helpful in getting a good job when I came back, preferably back aboard one of the carriers operating solely on the European Atlantic coast, but in a better-respected and better-paid position so it would take just another year or two until I could buy my fishing boat and be my own master once and for all.
Images of a golden future with a happy and contented Nell in a little house on the coast flashed through my mind, a bustling, lively home with two or three kids hopping about.
Accepting this job meant taking a huge step towards the future we were dreaming of, and I was so fed up with waiting, so eager to put that ring on Nellie's finger and move into a small home of our own, that I didn't actually think twice.
Still, I wasn't looking forward to telling her that she would have to do without me for almost half a year before our big dream would come true. She had borne my earlier absences with forced patience, but she had always been unhappy that my new job didn't permit me to return home every night. We'd had many a tense conversation about the subject, with her asking if I couldn't just have taken up some totally different kind of job after leaving Jean-Luc's services.
"Nellie darling, don't you cry. I'm not going away to spite you, but if we ever want to get married, we'll need a bit of money, and what little Jean-Luc has been able to pay me, if at all, just isn't enough to bring us out of here any time soon", I had said to her when she'd been seeing me off shiny-eyed the last time I left.
"Yes, but … you're so great at working with your hands, you could be doing anything – help on a farm or work at some factory in Brest or at a craftsman's workshop in one of the villages", she had replied tearfully. "Anything that would allow you to come home every night."
"I know it's hard to comprehend for you, but I want to earn my living my way. It's what I love and what I've always done best. I'd go mad in a workshop or a factory. The sea is my life, Nellie love."
She looked up at me, half exasperated, half indulgent. "Oh yes, I know, Mick, I know. It's not blood you've got flowing through your veins, it's salt water."
I smiled wryly at the memory, adjusted the strap of my knapsack that was about to slip off my shoulder and walked off towards the bus station.
On the bus home, I tried to think of the right words to explain my decision to Nell. I knew I had to be prepared to dry some more of her tears, and I hoped fervently she'd come to understand me in the end and hang in there until we'd finally be together.
Her father would probably be glad to be rid of me for a while. He had grudgingly come to give his consent when I had officially asked for his daughter's hand, and, incredibly, had not touched her again since then, at least not that I knew, but there was still no love lost between us, and I doubted he would ever truly accept me as his son-in-law.
He had tried to keep us under his thumb by suggesting we should get married quickly and live at his house after the wedding, but I had firmly objected to that. The idea of living in cramped provisional quarters in the Kervennecs' tiny attic, under the same roof as this violent, abusive man and his troubled wife, gave me the shivers. I had insisted that we needed our own home, however small, before we got married.
Lost in thought and a little worried how she would take it, I had no eye for the beauty of the landscape the bus was slowly travelling through. I dropped off my bag at Jean-Luc's where I was still lodging when I wasn't at sea and set out for Nell's right away.
Luckily, her father was on duty at the lighthouse, and only she and her mother were home, busy mending and darning in the quadrangle of light that came in through the kitchen window, when I knocked and entered. Both Nell and her mother's faces brightened when they saw me. Madame Kervennec, who was obviously enjoying a good day for once, greeted me quite fondly and looked on with a barely perceptible smile when Nell gave me a welcome kiss.
"Can we go for a walk?" I asked her in a low voice. "There's something we need to talk about."
Nell stiffened a bit in apprehension.
"Don't worry, Nellie. It's nothing grave. I'm not calling off the engagement or anything."
"Don't say such beastly things!" she scolded, shaking her head. "That's nothing to joke about."
I told her a few amusing anecdotes about my last stint aboard the Comte as we walked and held back about the Liberté until we had arrived at the abbey ruins and were standing by the low enclosure, facing the sea, as we had done so many times before when we had something serious to discuss.
Leaning forward, my folded arms resting on top of the wall, I said casually, "I think we can finally set our wedding date now."
She cocked her head and looked at me questioningly. "Can we?" she said, raising her eyebrows a little doubtfully.
"Yes, it's true, Nellie. We can get married next spring, if you want to. Wouldn't May be a lovely month?"
"Oh, yes", she said emphatically. "But I thought … what …"
"You know I spoke to Alain Leterrier last time I was home, who is prepared to sell us the little cottage on the edge of the village at a reasonable price if we promise to buy before the next summer. I just knew you'd love it there first time I laid eyes on the cottage, but I didn't think I could do it. But today I had an interesting meeting with the hiring guy at Le Bihan. They're offering me a promotion and a job that pays a lot more, so we'll indeed be able to afford the purchase, and in time, too."
I paused for a moment to study her face.
Her incredulous smile and her long-lashed eyelids fluttering in happy surprise made me hate myself in advance for the inevitable disappointment she was certainly going to feel when she learned about the downside of the rosy picture I had just painted.
"Oh, Mick", she whispered. "I can't quite believe it yet. I thought we were in for another year or two of waiting. Next spring – that's not even a year to go!"
"Right", I said, hesitant. "Although … there will be some other kind of waiting involved. They're taking me on for the new overseas service they're setting up. This means … well, this means I'll be away for a while … a bit longer than usual … quite a bit, in fact."
"Oh." Her face fell. "And … how much longer?"
"A bit over five months all in all. We're supposed to …"
"Five months?" she cried, crestfallen. "Five months without you? No, Mick, no, that's just too much." She turned away from me, her hands spread wide on the top the wall, her back rigid. I sensed that she was trying very hard not to break into tears.
"Nellie …" I put a hesitant hand on her back. She didn't shake it off but didn't react in any way either.
"I don't want you to go", she murmured defiantly. "Isn't there any other possibility?"
"No, Nellie, you know there isn't, not now that I've signed on. It's only for a while after all."
"But … couldn't they have given you a promotion to a job at the port or at the office or something?" she asked doggedly, turning back to face me.
"Oh, Nell." I sighed. "We have talked about this so often. You know I wasn't made for a desk job. I'd have stayed here fishing if there had been anyone ready to employ me, but there's no one in the village who'd have me except Jean-Luc who can't pay me more than a pittance. And you know I want to do a job I love", I said, feeling terribly selfish.
I knew I wouldn't possibly be able to make her see just how much it meant to me to be out at sea, how badly I needed to feel the rolling deck beneath my feet and the gusty wind ruffling my hair and the thin gritty crust the salty air left on my skin. And, if I was honest, while I hated being separated from Nell, I found it quite appealing to escape the scrutiny of the villagers, who still eyed me rather warily, for a while.
"And we don't want to lose the chance of getting our hands on that cottage, do we? It's perfect for us, small but so lovely. We'll finally have a home of our own, Nellie! We're actually rather lucky that I got the job offer at such a convenient time. I wouldn't have thought I'd be able to get the money together fast enough."
"But … maybe … yes, I know the cottage is a dream, but we might find another a little later and you could stick with what you're doing now. You know Father would let us live at our place for a while. That room in the attic is rather big and we aren't using it anyway. We could get married right away and move in there for now and you wouldn't have to go …"
"That's all fine, except that I thought I'd made it quite clear that I definitely don't want us to live our married life under your father's watch!" I exclaimed in a sudden rush of anger. "You know I want to marry you, very much so ... with all my heart", I went on a little softer. "But you also know that there are a couple of ... well, conditions that are essential for me: we'll have our own home, and I get to choose my job for myself."
I was painfully aware that my tone had been too harsh. She dissolved into tears finally, stung and disappointed, and walked away to sit on the low crumbled wall inside the apse of the ruined church.
"Damn", I murmured, closing my eyes and running a hand over my face. I felt I had pretty much blown it.
I leaned on the enclosure again and stared into the sea for a long while, brooding.
I couldn't help being quite weary of discussing the issue. I had long before shelved my initial idea of moving further away, maybe even going back to the States, when I'd realized that she wouldn't be able to bear living a long distance from her family and her hometown, despite her occasional wish to leave it all behind.
I, on the other hand, wouldn't have minded living in some place that was new for both of us. Whether we had made our home here or in Maine, one of us would always have remained a stranger to the locals, so I'd have preferred to make a completely fresh start elsewhere, living in peace without anyone interfering. But I didn't want to uproot her against her own volition, so we had more or less agreed on the compromise of furnishing our own little home somewhere in or near the village.
I could see why she was not happy about the prospect of almost half a year of separation ahead - neither was I - but why did she keep referring to her father's "offer" again and again when she knew I hated the thought? Why couldn't she understand that there was one thing I treasured more than most everything – independence – and that she was the only person I wanted to share my life with? Why wasn't she glad at the chance of escaping her father?
Finally, I swallowed my irritation and went over to where she was still perched in the same place, silently raging to judge from the look in her eyes, sat down next to her and said quietly, "Don't be mad at me, Nell, please. You know how I feel, I've explained it often enough, and you know I can't help it. I'm sorry for being so cross with you, though. I didn't mean to yell at you." I touched her cheek a little gingerly.
"Then just don't, next time." Her tone was gruff but her face had softened.
"I promise I won't." I squeezed her hand and said calmly, "But there's something I really need you to understand. I want you, and perhaps one day our kids, to be a fixture in our married life, but nobody else."
"Do you mean … you're not making me choose between you and my family, are you? That would be cruel."
"No, of course not. I'd never force you to choose me over your folks. I certainly don't want you to dissociate yourself from your family or anything, not at all. It's basically a good thing to be close with your family. It's just that I'm not ready to live with them permanently. I need a certain degree of freedom. That's the one thing you will have to accept when you marry me."
She nodded. "I know, I know." She sighed. "It's just that things would be … easier for me the other way, sometimes. It's really hard to stand up to Father again and again when he starts saying nasty things about you."
"Well, yes, I believe it is. You know, you're still free to decide as long as we're not yet married. If you feel you can't stand being torn between me and your family forever, just say so."
"Mick, please!" she cried out in anguish. "Don't say that. I want you, more than anything else in the world. It's only … I simply wish sometimes that I had entirely ordinary parents, the kind that don't need to be treated with kid gloves. It can get pretty strenuous to try and defend you and find explanations when Father starts asking why you're doing this and not that and why you're seeing things this way and not another. You know he's still got a lot of misgivings about you because you're American and I have to keep telling him that you're a perfectly trustworthy and honest man, not some dubious kind of stranger. And my mother … she likes you a lot, but … well, you know what she's like on her bad days. Please don't blame me if I sometimes feel it's all getting too much for me."
She gave me a pleading look, and I felt guilty for what I'd said earlier, even more so when she added, "My decision has been made the moment you asked me, Mick. And of course I do know that you and my father would never get along under the same roof. It's only the thought of you being so far away for so long that kills me right now and makes me want to find another solution … and … and …" Her lips trembled as if she was about to cry.
"'And' what, Nellie?" I asked gently and kissed her forehead as I took both of her hands in mine and held them close to my heart. "What else?"
"I'm so afraid something might … happen to you. Something … bad", she whispered. "I'm afraid your ship could be damaged and sink or you might get injured at work or fall overboard or get some awful disease."
"Well, I can't deny there are certain dangers to being a sailor, but I might just as well have been shipwrecked somewhere off the Spanish coast on my previous trips. And people have fallen down their own stairs at home and broken their necks. Life is always dangerous in a way", I said. "Don't worry too much, love. I'll be back alive and whole. I promise."
"As if that was something you could promise", she replied with a crooked half-smile. "Oh, Mick, how I wish I was six months older and you were back home safely."
"I will be, Nellie, I will be." I stopped her from voicing more concerns by kissing her tenderly, and she pressed herself tightly against me, gripping the back of my neck with both hands, her fingers buried in my hair, her mouth melting into mine.
My own heart grew heavy at the thought of being away for all those long months, but I tried to find a bit of comfort in the fact that the job was a necessary means to a beautiful end, and in the image in my mind's eye of Nell in a white gown and veil, flowers in her hand and in her hair, slowly walking towards me.
Later, at the dinner table, Nell wasn't able to conceal her upset state of mind.
Her mother, unusually talkative, inquired what was the matter and whether she had been crying, and Nell had blurted out the news of my new job and what a mixed blessing it was. And that we had all but set a wedding date.
Her mother's solemn features broke into a rare smile. "My little girl is really getting married", she said with a dreamy expression on her face. And, to me, "I know you are a good man for my Gwenna. You'll never let her down, and you'll always treat her well."
I inclined my head for a second, lowering my eyes, and looked back up at Nell. She met my gaze with eyes so full of love and tenderness that it almost broke my heart to think I'd be leaving in a few days' time.
When I said goodbye that evening, the woman who would be my mother-in-law did something that Nell later told me she had never done to anyone who wasn't close family: she kissed me on both cheeks, drew a small cross on my forehead with her thumb and said quietly, "God bless you, Mick Carpenter. May he keep you safe all through your long journey."
I was eerily moved by this simple gesture sprung from the faith Nell's mother was deeply rooted in, as people hereabouts were traditionally.
"Uh … thank you, Madame Kervennec", I said, not sure what to say in response. "All the best for you and … and your family."
I kissed Nell goodbye on the doorstep, but the touch I felt lingering on my face as I made my way home along the coast was Mathilde Kervennec's blessing.