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And again, hours of staring into the blue-grey sea would follow. If only the sea weren’t exactly the same colour as his eyes. Maybe, just maybe that would have made it a little easier. That blasted man had to have eyes the same blasted colour as the blasted ocean he was probably drowning in at this very moment!
‘Captain! Miss Linton!’
The shout from behind me made me turn. It wasn’t the usual shout of ‘Man overboard’ that heralded the finding of another corpse. It wasn’t even one of the search party who had called. No, the ship’s signaller, brightly coloured flags in hand, motioned for the captain and me to join him.
‘What is it, Watkins?’ the captain demanded, marching towards the man. I was only a few steps behind.
‘Signals, Captain! From one of the other ships! And not the usual signals about search patterns, either! They’re sending a message!’
Shielding his eyes against the sun, the captain stared off towards the ship to which the signaller pointed. I, too, followed the man’s arm w
ith my gaze, and saw nothing more than a few spots of colour in the distance.
‘What does that mean?’ I demanded. ‘I don’t know flag signals!’
The colour in the distance changed. ‘That’s an M!’ The signaller shouted.
‘An M?’
‘Messages are sent in colour-movement combinations. Every combination stands for a different letter in the alphabet. That’s an A! And that’s and N!’
M-A-N…
‘Man! They’re sending a signal about a man!’
Or maybe a mantis…
‘What kind of man?’ I demanded, telling my stupid inner voice to shut up. ‘Is he all right? Where’s the signal coming from?’
The signaller ignored me with the thoroughness of a man who does nothing but swing flags all day. Full of concentration, he stared into the distance.
‘W!’ he shouted. ‘A-S-H-E-D…’
Man washed? What the hell…? Had Mr Ambrose had taken a bubble bath?
‘A-S-H-O-R-E…’
My heart made a leap! Man washed ashore! Of course! Oh God… if he had been washed ashore, did that mean he couldn’t swim by himself anymore? Did that mean that he couldn’t move at all, that he was stiff and cold and…
No! Please, Lord, let him have escaped! He can’t be… He just can’t!
I was just about to open my mouth again, to demand to know more, when the signaller’s next yelled letter hit me in the stomach like a sledgehammer.
‘A!’
My mouth was open, but no sound came out.
‘L!’
Oh God… could it be?
‘I!’
Yes, please! Please let it be true!
‘V!’
Yes! Yes! Yes! Just one more letter and…
