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Authors: John Christopher
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eyebrows. ‘It’s our job to keep them in the best possible condition for delivery. That’s in the contract.’
‘Yes,’ Mouritzen said. ‘So it is.’
‘I’m going to get some sleep.’ Olsen said. He yawned, and flexed his arms. Mouritzen found himself yawning in sympathy, and Olsen noticed it. ‘You should have got your sleep this evening,’ he said, with some severity.
‘I’m all right.’
‘What was it you said to me the other day – that I’d have been better off on an all-cargo ship? That’s true of you, Niels. You find passengers too much of a distraction.’
‘Not too much, I think.’
‘You don’t think straight; that’s the trouble. Once we’ve cleared Amsterdam, I suppose it will be the Simanyi girl again?’
‘No, no.’
With a grim satisfaction, Olsen said: ‘You are not your own master, though. They look at you and smile, and you are as helpless as a little child.’
‘Lately, I’ve been considering the advantages of marriage.’
‘Marriage? For you, there are no advantages. Only another complication – something else to distract your mind with. Do you think you would stop chasing the others, if you had a wife back in Copenhagen?’
‘Why not? When a man has found what he needs, he stops looking for it. Isn’t that obvious?’
Olsen paused, his hand on the rail, preparing to go down the stairs.
‘And what is it a man needs, Niels? A man like you? When you have solved that problem, you will know more about yourself. Then it will be time to think of taking a wife.’
Mouritzen called to him: ‘Tell me what you need yourself, Erik, and then perhaps I will solve my problem.’
‘I?’ Olsen laughed. ‘I have found it already. I need nothing. Nothing!’
----
They were getting into the Straits as dawn broke, grey and wet on the starboard bow, and the seas were beginning to run very high. Before he went down for breakfast, Mouritzen ordered the hatch battened down over the hold where the horses were stabled. He told Olsen this. Olsen was already at the table, eating bacon and egg.
‘Yes,’ Olsen said. ‘Good. Everything going well?’
‘We’re still running in front of it,’ Mouritzen said. ‘The difficulty will lie when we change course.’
‘That will not be for a long time.’
‘The forecast is for gales strengthening and continuing in all areas.’
‘So we save still more time and oil.’
Mouritzen sat down at his place. ‘No sign of the passengers for breakfast. I suppose Thorsen is busy?’
‘Yes. This is the time when Thorsen earns his pay. I do not envy Thorsen at times like these.’
The door opened and Mouritzen looked, expecting to see either Thorsen or the boy, Ib; but it was Josef Simanyi, and Nadya was close behind him. She was dressed in dove grey slacks with a pink blouse, well open at the neck. She looked very fit.
‘Ah,’ Olsen said, ‘we have visitors! So the storm does not take away your appetites?’
Simanyi grinned. ‘My wife stays in bed, and Stefan is praying to the Virgin, but we two are hungry.’
‘You should get Thorsen to cook that fish you caught yesterday,’ Olsen said. ‘Here he is. What are the conditions above stairs, Thorsen?’
Thorsen smiled slightly. ‘There will be no more down to breakfast today. I will bring yours for you in a minute.’
Simanyi said: ‘She is a stout ship, the
Kreya
.’
Normally they kept the places which Thorsen had given them at the beginning of the voyage, but with Møller and six of the passengers absent to do so now would mean having tracts of empty space between them. Smiling at Nadya with a frank and open friendliness, Thorsen said:
‘It will be better if you move in closer, I think. Will you sit beside Mr Mouritzen, Miss Simanyi?’
Nadya smiled in return. ‘I am glad to do that,’ she said.
‘Yes, a stout ship,’ Olsen said, echoing Simanyi. ‘You need not fear the gale when you are aboard the
Kreya
. Your son may pray to the Virgin for the sake of his
‘Yes,’ Mouritzen said. ‘So it is.’
‘I’m going to get some sleep.’ Olsen said. He yawned, and flexed his arms. Mouritzen found himself yawning in sympathy, and Olsen noticed it. ‘You should have got your sleep this evening,’ he said, with some severity.
‘I’m all right.’
‘What was it you said to me the other day – that I’d have been better off on an all-cargo ship? That’s true of you, Niels. You find passengers too much of a distraction.’
‘Not too much, I think.’
‘You don’t think straight; that’s the trouble. Once we’ve cleared Amsterdam, I suppose it will be the Simanyi girl again?’
‘No, no.’
With a grim satisfaction, Olsen said: ‘You are not your own master, though. They look at you and smile, and you are as helpless as a little child.’
‘Lately, I’ve been considering the advantages of marriage.’
‘Marriage? For you, there are no advantages. Only another complication – something else to distract your mind with. Do you think you would stop chasing the others, if you had a wife back in Copenhagen?’
‘Why not? When a man has found what he needs, he stops looking for it. Isn’t that obvious?’
Olsen paused, his hand on the rail, preparing to go down the stairs.
‘And what is it a man needs, Niels? A man like you? When you have solved that problem, you will know more about yourself. Then it will be time to think of taking a wife.’
Mouritzen called to him: ‘Tell me what you need yourself, Erik, and then perhaps I will solve my problem.’
‘I?’ Olsen laughed. ‘I have found it already. I need nothing. Nothing!’
----
They were getting into the Straits as dawn broke, grey and wet on the starboard bow, and the seas were beginning to run very high. Before he went down for breakfast, Mouritzen ordered the hatch battened down over the hold where the horses were stabled. He told Olsen this. Olsen was already at the table, eating bacon and egg.
‘Yes,’ Olsen said. ‘Good. Everything going well?’
‘We’re still running in front of it,’ Mouritzen said. ‘The difficulty will lie when we change course.’
‘That will not be for a long time.’
‘The forecast is for gales strengthening and continuing in all areas.’
‘So we save still more time and oil.’
Mouritzen sat down at his place. ‘No sign of the passengers for breakfast. I suppose Thorsen is busy?’
‘Yes. This is the time when Thorsen earns his pay. I do not envy Thorsen at times like these.’
The door opened and Mouritzen looked, expecting to see either Thorsen or the boy, Ib; but it was Josef Simanyi, and Nadya was close behind him. She was dressed in dove grey slacks with a pink blouse, well open at the neck. She looked very fit.
‘Ah,’ Olsen said, ‘we have visitors! So the storm does not take away your appetites?’
Simanyi grinned. ‘My wife stays in bed, and Stefan is praying to the Virgin, but we two are hungry.’
‘You should get Thorsen to cook that fish you caught yesterday,’ Olsen said. ‘Here he is. What are the conditions above stairs, Thorsen?’
Thorsen smiled slightly. ‘There will be no more down to breakfast today. I will bring yours for you in a minute.’
Simanyi said: ‘She is a stout ship, the
Kreya
.’
Normally they kept the places which Thorsen had given them at the beginning of the voyage, but with Møller and six of the passengers absent to do so now would mean having tracts of empty space between them. Smiling at Nadya with a frank and open friendliness, Thorsen said:
‘It will be better if you move in closer, I think. Will you sit beside Mr Mouritzen, Miss Simanyi?’
Nadya smiled in return. ‘I am glad to do that,’ she said.
‘Yes, a stout ship,’ Olsen said, echoing Simanyi. ‘You need not fear the gale when you are aboard the
Kreya
. Your son may pray to the Virgin for the sake of his
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