Chapter 13 – Not in This World
At worst it seemed she was, from here on in, to be ignored. She could deal with that. She was used to that. The anti-climax of seeing the search party finally disappear amongst the trees, and the yells of Ann's name fading seemed to bring a cloud over them all. Englehorn, who had watched after them until they were out of sight had become closed-faced again and walked between his remaining crew tense and irate.
Cora stood aside. Despite the climate, a chill wind whistled in off the water, and the stone village provided no insulation. She pulled the sleeves of her cardigan over her hands and rubbed them together but didn't dare complain.
Half a dozen of Englehorn's crew had made a trip back to the ship and bought various provisions to their makeshift base camp. One of them, a stocky man with fair hair, stopped in his work and frowned at her.
"What?" She snapped, knotting her cuffs tighter around her knuckles.
He reached into a nearby pack that had been bought ashore, "Here." He said in a rough British accent, throwing her a bundle of heavy cloth. "That's for you. Put it on."
Unfolding it, she discovered the item was a thick khaki overcoat. She looked at him questioningly.
He half-shrugged "Thought that might come in handy. I got a sister, see – you girls seem to have a problem with packing sensible clothes."
It smelt of motor oil and stale sweat, but she forced herself to swallow her pride and pull it on. Her thin dress and cardigan hadn't been the most practical choice, and the coat almost instantly added some warmth.
She couldn't help but smile. "Thank you, Mr..?"
The sailor looked surprised at still being addressed, and so formally too "Joliffe. Arthur Joliffe. At your service." He inclined his head into a faux bow and Cora smiled.
Neatly rolling up the over-long sleeves of the coat, she looked warily up at the high stone wall. She'd seen Jack scale the imposing structure earlier on, but he was far taller than her and had had desperation and adrenaline on his side.
It was worth a shot at least. The ragged edges of the rock made for small shelves, small enough for a hand or foot perhaps. She turned her foot and set it on the first ledge. It held and taking a deep breath, she pushed herself up to the next, pulling with her hands and slowly but surely climbing up the wall. Some of the edges were sharp, and cut into her palms, and she winced as she climbed. But still she went on. Like climbing walls and fences as a kid, one of Alex's gang giving her a shove up to get her started. Just another wall, she told herself, just another shortcut.
Ten feet…Fifteen feet…Twenty feet…
Her hand, the one she'd jarred in the crash and still twinged, slipped from the ledge. Her heart lurched, rock crumbled, and she jerked backwards, clinging on with her remaining hand. "Oh God!" it slipped out before she could help herself, and her nails dug in, scraping on the rock. "Please-" She stammered, unsure who she was even pleading with. "Not yet, please…"
When her panicked breathing had settled a little, she clamped her hand back down hard onto the ledge and kept going. She was still alive, she told herself. Just…be more careful. That was close, too close.
Every so often small, crude ladders had been implemented, by the savages Herb had mentioned, Cora assumed. Their construction looked dubious and she purposely avoided one or two in fear that the dry wood would crack beneath her. As she climbed higher however, it became apparent that they were necessary, as they became more frequent, hitched to untidy bamboo platforms. Feeling like a mouse, dwarfed by this impossible structure, she made her way further up, seeing connections, seeing a route that had been laid out for her.
It took her nearly an hour and several wrong turns, but finally she reached the top.
The view took her breath away. She could see the jungle properly now, stretching on and on, a stormy ocean of greenery. In the distance, huge cragged peaks fractured the skyline. A vast winged creature, too far away to identify properly, circled the highest point almost lazily, beating its wide wings every so often.
It was completely unsullied by human hand. The last truly wild place on the planet, Carl's last blank space on the map. Even Africa had been bordered and regimented by those who lived there and the visiting film crews. The whole world must have been like this once, she mused.
She found a spot to sit and continued to stare out across the island, drinking in the wild and unknown place before her. It seemed impossible to imagine that that old life was still going somewhere. Her mother in Paris, making polite conversation and buying overpriced dresses. Alex knocking on every door in search of odd jobs. Her sister Sadie wedding shopping in California. Violet and Alice still in New York, still fretting about day to day things and gossiping about men.
And here…here was Cora Denham, sat on the rock, associating with sailors and actresses, her hands covered in scratches and wearing a smelly old coat.
Associating with ship boys. She frowned at the tree tops. Jimmy was still out there somewhere, she knew, completely at the mercy of tigers or snakes, or whatever monsters this island held.
A memory, in a city café, Violet, shaking back her carroty hair and announcing, in her know-it-all tone; "When Cora gets her most unsuitable boy we'll be the first to know!"
Maybe once, Violet would have assumed that Alex would one day take that role in Cora's affections. But they'd known each other far too long, knew each other too well – Alex was like a brother to her, and older brother that she always striven to impress. She knew however, that his mother would have only been too thrilled for them.
But now there was Jimmy, who her thoughts seemed to return to again and again. Jimmy who was her age and maybe not her class, but just seemed to 'get' her. When they spoke things just seemed to fall into their places. There was no effort in their friendship, and yes- she would call it that. Things were easy and simple. It was like nothing she'd ever known.
To bring Jimmy to her friends, to bring these separate parts of her life together…
Sadie might be on board with it, after some thought. Violet would make a thousand judgements at first glance and later be proven right on almost all of them. Alice would ask a dozen questions, and Alex? She had no idea. She considered Alex to be one of the most important people in her life. She didn't introduce people to him. That was just how it was. She could scarcely imagine introducing anyone to Alex…except maybe, just maybe…Jimmy.
"Miss Denham!"
She flinched, suddenly thrown from her thoughts by the summoning. She looked back to the island and realised the sun had moved quite noticeably across the sky.
"Denham!" The yell rang out again.
She peeked carefully over the edge of the wall. "Captain?"
"Get down here." He beckoned nonchalantly from where he stood at the base, but Cora still immediately obeyed. The man had had a face like thunder for the last three hours. Even she realised it would be unwise to argue with him.
Herself however was another story, and for her entire descent, bar one rather dangerous manoeuvre, she was absorbed in a counter argument to her thoughts on top of the wall. The rational, logical, realistic and unromantic side of her. Why was she even considering this? Why even entertain the notion? It was madness and her mother would put a stop to it before it could even begin. They were from totally different classes - different worlds. It couldn't, and wouldn't, last. Not in any universe.
"I'm here." She announced, slightly unnecessarily to the captain, joining him "What do you want?"
"I'm going to teach you something. Come." He walked off, long, swift steps and Cora scurried after him. They stopped at one of the whalers that were serving as their stores. "I'm going to teach you a life skill." He drew a spare gun from one of the boats and presented it to Cora.
She backed away clumsily, eyes wide and her hands instinctively flung up before her "Whoa – are you sure?"
Englehorn smirked and slung the gun across his shoulder. "Absolutely. Besides, I'm sick and tired of you sitting around feeling sorry for yourself."
Cora huffed "I was not," she argued, following the captain back across the rocky terrain. "Feeling sorry for myself."
"It was very over dramatic. Your uncle would have been very proud, but you need to snap out of it. Now -" He held out the rifle to Cora, who took it tentatively "I hope that you'll never have to use one of these, but I don't know just what this island holds. You're less of a liability to my crew if you can defend yourself. Now, are you ready to listen?"
His forthright manner was shocking yet strangely appropriate, and Cora found herself nodding an affirmative.
She did not take to shooting well. The rifle itself was cumbersome, her impatience hindered her willingness to aim and every missed shot added to her growing aggravation. Her shoulder began to ache where her weak grip caused the gun to slam back into the joint with every shot.
Englehorn seemed to delight in her ineptitude. Every error he pointed out was paired with a jibe, a subtle dig at her upbringing and behaviour and Cora understood that with Carl goodness knows where looking for Ann, she was now in the line of fire.
And yet, she couldn't blame him, she decided. Carl had led them all on what had become a deadly chase. An easy enough job had become a life and death struggle. If she was in the captain's shoes, she'd be pretty angry too.
When she finally (somehow) managed to hit the target Englehorn had set up with a dead bullseye, she spun to check to his reaction, her entire limb aching, grinning broadly and breathless with excitement, but he'd just taken a drag on his cigarette, shrugged and dubbed it; "Not completely awful."
Her smile faltered only a little. She could not help but feel pleased.
He nodded towards the target on the far off ledge. "Again."
With a short, irritable sigh, she slung the gun back into her arms and resumed setting up her aim.
"Nobody ever admits that they're moping." He commented idly, pacing behind her.
"I told you, I wasn't." Cora replied instantly, lining up the barrel of the gun. "And even if I was I think I've got a good enough excuse."
"Is that so?" He gave a short, barking laugh "You have suffered no more or less than anyone else in the world. So your father died. That was unfortunate, not unique. What are you going to do about it?"
She turned, remembering at the last second to lower the barrel "How did you know about my father?"
"Max Denham?" He grunted "Your father had fingers in many pies when it came to making business. His name came up more than once. I say again – what are you going to do? Keep blaming the rest of the world? Act like you can do no wrong? If the world has done you so wrong, then nobody can say anything bad about you, yes?"
"That's not what I meant!" Cora cried.
"See, but it is. It's what happens to everyone who life deals the cards they do not want." He paused for a moment before pushing on, the words oddly strained "I ran away from everything that went wrong in my life when I was a young man. Here's some advice; don't do the same."
Cora's mind suddenly filled with the image of a young girl, running through the streets with a gang of children, roaming the city until all hours, getting into fights and trying desperately not to look at her father's grave. "Too late, Captain." She shoved the gun back into Engelhorn's grasp "I already did. So you can-" She stopped, alerted to the sound of approaching footsteps.
"Cap'n." Joliffe had joined them and only briefly glanced suspiciously at the rifle "Cap'n, you need to come with me."
Immediately ignoring the girl, Englehorn turned sharply to the sailor "What is it?"
"We've spotted…people, Cap'n." Joliffe gestured vaguely "People comin' out the jungle. I think they might be comin' back. I think they might've found her."
NB: I cannot begin to tell you how long that shooting lesson has been planned out and written. I'm just sorry it took this long to get here!