“Peter,” I said quietly and touched his elbow. The last thing we needed was another row. Mercifully, he seemed to take the hint.
We looked around us. Nothing stirred.
“I suggest we begin loading our things onto the boat,” Mamoru said. “That way we will be ready to leave when the boatman arrives.”
The boat was deceptively spacious. As I descended the steep, narrow steps that led below deck, I was, in truth, slightly concerned about sleeping arrangements. If we were to spend any length of time on this boat, the lack of space meant that I would be sleeping (and dressing and washing) in the company of three men other than my husband. I was not sure I could do it. My fears were partly allayed when I saw that the area below deck was roomy and sensibly arranged, with a small partition which afforded some measure of privacy. There were three small beds, arranged at right angles to one another, a tiny cabinet, and a table and chair. There were no portholes (as I imagined all boats had), or any mirrors, but there was still enough light from the stair hatch to make the dimness acceptable. It smelt of camphor and damp, but was otherwise clean.
I was relieved, too, when Mamoru told me that only Johnny and I would be down below deck; the others would be sleeping above board.
“This isn’t exactly le Normandie, is it?” said Peter, as he helped me carry my things to my bunk.
“It’ll do.” I laughed.
“Are you sure you’ll be alright, Snow?” he said.
“What you mean to say is that a spoilt, delicate woman like me is not accustomed to surroundings such as these,” I said.
“Not at all,” he said, stuttering a little. “Not at all. I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable.” He seemed somewhat hurt.
“I’m more durable than you think, Peter,” I said. I must confess that I allowed my annoyance to show in my voice.
I began unpacking my things. My first thought was for this diary — now that we are on a boat, I am worried that it may get wet or become infected by damp rot. Johnny came into the cabin and dropped his bags on his bed. He left without speaking to me. A while later Mamoru appeared. He came halfway down the stairs but did not descend properly into the cabin.
“You must be tired from the drive today. I must admit to being somewhat fatigued myself,” he said.
I smiled. “I’m fine, Mamoru. Glad for a rest, certainly, but I’m fine.”
“I’m sorry, this”—he waved a hand at the cabin—“this is not luxurious, but we shall not be on this boat for long. If the boatman arrives soon, we will not even pass a single night here.”
“You sound as if you are apologising. Please don’t — it’s not your fault. You’ve had nothing to do with this.”
“Promise you’ll tell me if you need anything?”
I nodded.
When he had gone I found a piece of wax cloth in Johnny’s things. I placed it on the tiny table next to the bed and set my diary on it. I have been writing ever since. When I finish I shall wrap the diary in the wax cloth, where it will be safe from the sea and all the things that lurk in its depths.
WHEN I EMERGED on deck it was still light. The men were squabbling and there was no sign of the boatman.
“Yes! We have no bananas,” Peter sang in a child’s taunting wail, “we have no bananas or boatman today.”
“It isn’t my fault,” Honey protested. He was standing at the side of the boat, squinting into the distance, searching for signs of life in the still-deserted town. “What do you expect of the natives?”
“I expect them to be well trained and utterly compliant,” said Peter. “Isn’t that what I’m expected to expect?”
“What?”
“Look, it doesn’t matter. The fact is, we have a boat but no boatman. How on earth are we to get to the Seven Maidens by nightfall?”
“I don’t know,” Honey said, seemingly defeated by Peter’s logic.
“Well, you made the arrangements.”
“I did not. Besides, the professor has a plan.”
Mamoru had been lifting up boards and shifting boxes to inspect various parts of the machinery. “The Seven Maidens,” he said calmly, his voice full of quiet authority, “are not far from the coast. The Straits of Malacca are some of the smoothest waters in the world. We will be able to navigate our way to the islands without the boatman. I am certain of it.”
“I didn’t know you were good with boats, Mamoru,” I said. “You seem very confident of getting us there.”
“Oh, I’m sure Professor Kunichika has plenty of little tricks up his sleeve,” said Peter. “His sense of direction is quite extraordinary, isn’t it? Especially for an academic.”
“Actually, I have brought with me some rudimentary nautical maps. I have nothing beyond these — and a foolhardy sense of confidence, of course.”
“No one knows where the Seven Maidens are. Only fishermen go there, only they know the way,” Honey said quietly. “Still, I’m sure the professor will get us there.” His voice faded even as he spoke, as if he had resigned himself to what lay ahead.
