Page 85 of Valour

“Hell. Is everyone alright?”

“As far as we know.”

“A headcount. Everyone hold still,” Septimus shouted from somewhere behind, and Frank began counting the men and women, all frozen in place.

Hester noted Arnold and Charlotte scrambling from their tent, Charlotte’s cheeks slightly pink. Had her plan worked already?

“All present,” Frank shouted to Septimus, and the crews began to move once more.

Charlotte was striding towards her, eyes narrowed, snow kicking up in flurries around her boots. “You!”

“Me?” Hester asked, feigning bafflement. She had not seen Charlotte angry. The Boss was always so calm, like a mirror-flat sea on a windless day.

“You put us together on purpose,” Charlotte whispered, jabbing a finger at her.

Hester held up her hands and tried not to smile. “Why on Earth would I do that?”

“Because. You are trying to force something that cannot happen.”

A large presence towered behind her, and Hester spun to find Septimus standing there, his arms folded. She turned back to Charlotte, ignoring him, and spoke quietly. “Cannot happen? Because of a dead husband you had no romantic attachment to?”

Hurt flashed across Charlotte’s face, her lip trembling. She looked about to say something, and then turned and marched away. Hester sucked a breath through her teeth. She shouldn’t have said that. It was stupid and hurtful, and Charlotte had been so good at keeping her secret. She made to go after her friend, but before she could take two steps Septimus cleared his throat.

“We need to move the camp,” he said.

“Right. Fine. You see to it, seeing as you want to be in charge so badly,” Hester muttered, stomping off over the ice.

She walked back over to the Valour and sat on the piles of gear left stacked on the floe, huddling her knees up to her chest and gazing at the broken vessel. A tear escaped down her cheek, dropped onto her knees, where it froze on the fabric.

Everyone was looking to her, all expecting her to be strong, to be their guiding light. But it was difficult, oh, so difficult to be that person right now.

The ship creaked and collapsed further in on itself, the top spars snapping and lurching towards the deck, and Hester drew a shuddering breath. Her fingernails dug into her palms, the little pricks of pain almost pleasant compared to the deep ache in her heart.

She uncurled her legs, then walked up the ramp and onto the deck, lingering at the wheel before making her way down the companionway and below decks. She pushed open the door to her cabin, but the little room was broken apart, filled with ice, glowing with a ghostly blue tinge. She hopped over some fallen beams to reach the galley, and leant against the wall, snatching in lungfuls of air.

How had it all gone so horribly wrong? And how would she ever get over this loss? She dragged her back down the panelled wall, crouching there in a place that had so often been filled with laughter. She could almost hear it now.

“Oh, God,” she breathed, massaging her forehead with the heels of her palms, and rocking back and forth on her toes.

Footsteps echoed on the deck above. “Hester?”

She whipped her head up. That was Septimus’s voice, and she did not want to speak to him. Would speak to anyone but him, even Fliss. Slowly, silently, she crawled under the galley table.

“Hester? It’s too dangerous in here. You need to leave.”

She stayed hunkered under the table, scowling. Couldn’t he leave her in peace to mourn?

“I know you’re here somewhere.” His footsteps drew closer, and then he entered the galley. His hobnail boots appeared, and she held her breath, hugging her knees tighter. “Your crew are worried about you.”

Her heart tightened, but the words were not enough for her to reveal herself.

Hester thought back to the day the Intrepid sank, how she’d found him still inside the ship, refusing to leave. And now she understood.

He started across the floor, halting just in front of where she sat under the table. And then he knelt down until they were eye to eye. “Hello, Hester.”

She scowled in answer. “Leave me alone.”

“We need to get out of here. Come on,’ he said, offering his hand. She turned her head away and crossed her arms. There was no way she was going anywhere with him.