10. Jonah

Stephen stormed into the surgery. Violet was in there reading a book, as usual (a little too often, Mr Pullings frequently complained), and looked up startled. Stephen took no notice of her and deposited a bag full of something or other down on a bench with a crash. He took various tools and instruments out of the bag one by and one and roughly shoved them back into their respective places. Violet watched in surprise for minute or two before she ventured, 'What's the matter, Doctor?'

'Captain Aubrey,' Stephen replied, an unfamiliar edge in his voice, 'has seen fit to go back on certain promises he made to me, for the sake of his own pride.'

'Oh. Is this about those islands you wanted to see?'

'Yes.' Stephen stopped what he was doing and sighed, his anger suddenly deflating. 'Jack promised I might have a day or two to inspect the islands. It was nothing unreasonable, surely we can spare a day or two. You would have thought they'd be glad to have another few days to make more repairs, and I'd only be in the way. But Jack has decided we will pursue the Acheron immediately. They've no time for my damned hobbies. That's what he said.'

'Oh.' Violet felt sorry for him. She'd never seen him so excited as he'd been when Jack agreed to the expedition. Stephen found life on board the ship hard, and studying the occasional natural wonders they stumbled upon was one of his few pleasures.

'We'll have to sail around the island, couldn't you walk across and meet us at the other end?' Violet suggested.

'I said that. He said no.' The doctor replied bluntly before turning his back. Violet took the hint and left.

For the first time, Violet felt a touch of anger towards the captain. Stephen's right, she thought. It is his pride that's making him act like this. He can't bear to be beaten, and he's prepared to do anything to catch the Acheron. Where will it all end?

Jack caught sight of Violet crossing the deck, and leaning on the railing. Mr Pullings followed his gaze. 'Mr DeVere looks preoccupied.' Mr Pullings murmured. Jack gave a short laugh. 'My guess would be that Stephen has just told him that I refused to let him explore, and he is having an internal grumble.'

'It isn't his place.' Mr Pullings shot back. 'He must have too much time on his hands. I'll see that he's busier in future.' Privately he thought that it wasn't Doctor Maturin's place to go gossiping either, but he knew that Jack wouldn't stand for that. Stephen was still his friend.

'Ah, leave the boy alone. He won't let his personal feelings get in the way of his duty.'

'Are you sure, sir?'

'Positive. That boy is shaping up to be an excellent seaman. I don't remember any other mid being as advanced as he is. What do you think?'

Mr Pullings fidgeted. 'I can't fault his skills, sir. And he obeys orders.'

'But?' Jack prompted.

He hesitated. 'I can't put my finger on it. I just...don't feel comfortable around him.'

Jack snorted. 'Thomas, really. It's not like you to be put out of countenance by a young mid. Certainly not a little titch like Victor.'

Mr Pullings gave a wry smile. 'He is small, isn't he? Confident, too. And I must say, sir, I've seen more masculine women.'

Jack gave a hoot of laughter. 'Me too, Thomas. Still, the men seem to like him, and he gets on well with the other officers, to say nothing of Stephen. The two of them are thick as thieves. Try and give him a little extra training, if you can.'

Violet wiped sweat from her brow. Her mother had once said, 'Women don't sweat. Pigs sweat. Men perspire, women glow.'

She was wrong, Violet decided. People most definitely did sweat, in abundance. The thick coats and collars and hats were nothing less than torture. The able seaman were allowed to strip off their shirts, and the already depleted water supplies became more and more precious. Some time after the Galapagos incident, (Stephen and Jack had more or less patched up their friendship since then), the wind had disappeared, to be replaced by blazing sun and a flat sea without so much as a ripple. The officers and even Jack eventually abandoned their dignity and worked in their shirts along with everyone else. Violet felt uncomfortable working without her waistcoat and coat, as she continually worried that the cloth she wound tightly around her chest would loosen. Her workload seemed to have doubled, which didn't help the situation. On the day they sailed away from the Galapagos island Mr Pullings descended on her and, without warning or reason, gave her additional duties. She was more tired than ever, and there always seemed to be more work to do, and it was always her that Mr Pullings selected to do it. Working with Stephen was a thing of the past. And the end result was rarely worth it. Mr Pullings was never happy. There was always something she hadn't done right, or should be done again.

Peter and William were aghast at the extra work Violet got. She was so preoccupied with fitting everything into twenty four hours that she didn't notice what was happening to Hollom.

Violet burst into the mids' quarters one day, and found Hollom sitting in the corner snuffling miserably. When he saw her, he blushed scarlet with embarrassment and hastily wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Violet didn't hesitate, she rushed over and, much to his mortification, sat next to him and slid her arm around his shoulders, demanding to know what was the matter. He shuffled away awkwardly, wriggling away, and Violet remembered sadly that this wasn't the done thing. Anyone else on the ship would have turned away and left him, and acted as if nothing had happened.

'What's the matter?' Violet asked again, quietly. Hollom slumped over and coved his face with his hands. 'They've taken up against me.'

'The men?'

'Not just them. All the others. They think I'm cursed.'

'What? Why would they think that?'

Hollom laughed bitterly. 'Where have you been the last few weeks?'

'I'm been so busy – Mr Pullings has just loaded me down with work. I've barely had time to sleep and eat, let alone have time to really talk to anyone.'

'Since we lost the wind, and it stopped raining, everyone started whispering Jonah.'

'Whispering what?'

'Jonah. You know the story. They've decided it's me.'

'That's stupid. Why you?'

'Do you remember that storm, when the mast came down and that seaman was drowned?'

'Yes, I remember. I liked him.'

'So did everyone. The mast fell as I started to climb up. And it was on my watch the Acheron was spotted.'

'None of that was your fault!'

'That's not what they think. And now they think it's my fault we lost our wind. It's getting worse, especially since that incident with Joseph Nagle.'

Violet bit her lip. Privately, she thought the captain had been too harsh, flogging Joseph for a little thing like failing to salute, and she knew Stephen agreed with her. But now she was worried for Hollom.

'You believe it too.' She said aloud. 'About yourself.'

Hollom's silence said it all.

'You can't believe them, Hollom! We'll get a wind any day now, you'll see.'

'Not while I'm on board.'

'Of course we will! All this is because of Joseph – he's popular and he's turned the men against you. They'll forget, believe me. You do believe me, don't you?'

'I believe you.' Hollom murmured, and forced a smile. 'I have to go. I'm on watch soon.' He left, leaving Violet sitting alone. 'Oh dear.' She groaned, letting her head fall into her hands. He didn't believe a word she'd just said. He really thought it was all his fault. Damn Joseph Nagle and all superstitious seaman, was her last thought before falling asleep.

They were awoken in the middle of the night by a scream of 'Man overboard!' Violet's blood ran cold. She pushed past sleepy men onto the deck. William Blakeney was speaking to the captain. 'Who's gone over?' Violet's own voice sounded hollow and she knew the answer before she asked the question.

'Hollom.' William replied, his voice breaking. 'It's no good.' He called to the men who were throwing out ropes into the black water. 'He just...' he turned back to Violet. 'He just jumped. I didn't know what he was going to do. He picked up a cannon ball. He just jumped over.'