Ghost Writer(35)

“Bonjour, Chief Gravell.”

It was tea, not coffee, but he also brought a windbreaker and helped me into it.

“I would prefer it if you didn't leave sick bay unescorted. You scared Briseau and worried me.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't realize it would be such an issue.”

He looked at me, scepticism apparent.

“Okay, I was so desperate to get fresh air I didn't care if it was an issue. I didn't want anyone telling me I couldn't go outside.”

He nodded. “Still seasick? I can’t hand out pills here, but I can talk to the doctor.”

“Since being trapped, I find I'm feeling less seasick and more claustrophobic.”

We both turned to look out.

I could see the Scranton's tower casting a shadow over the location of the station. Nearby, the émil Gagnan was stubbornly holding its place amongst the big dogs.

Halfway through my tea, my legs started to feel wobbly. I suppose it was time to go back to bed. I was as ready as I would ever be, but my feet were reluctant. They didn't want to move, possibly having inside information on how my stomach was going to handle this. I decided to give them five more minutes. Though I didn't look, I knew that Gravell stepped away. I heard the murmur of his voice giving someone instructions. Then, when he returned, I felt the radiant warmth of his body and wondered at him standing so close. When I turned, I was surprised to find him at least a foot away. On the other hand, Minton wasn't around and that might have explained the sudden sensation of warmth.

“Ready to go in, Madame Kirby?”

I nodded.

“I'm going to give you a radio-phone. Next time you want to go on deck, call me. I'll make sure you have an escort. Don't worry about the time of day. Someone will be available at all times.”

I stopped and stared at him.

“Are you afraid I'll be attacked? Or that I'll jump ship?”

“You're a civilian aboard a military vessel.”

“So this is just protocol?” I stared at him in frank disbelief.

Gravell chivied me on. “It is a combination of things. The bottom line is, you can either comply or find yourself under armed guard.”

“You’d do that to me?”

“I wouldn’t have to.”

I sighed. “I'll be good.”

An armed seaman was waiting in sick bay with a flask of tea and a second mug. Gravell dismissed him with a word of thanks. We sat in my room with our tea, and I found myself telling Gravell about my dream.

“Perhaps you shouldn't read the diary at bedtime,” he suggested, though I had been careful not to mention Minton's journal.

Of course, I had told him about the book when I was trapped, but I thought that the captain and I were the only ones who knew I still had it. Maybe this was a test.

I feigned innocence.

“What diary? If I had such an item, I would have to turn it over to the Americans, wouldn't I?”

Gravell’s mouth turned up at one corner and his eyes narrowed with an expression that conveyed a degree of ferocity completely absent from his calm voice. “Not on my watch, you wouldn't. Your discretion is admirable, Madame Kirby, but I am the one person you can and should talk to about this.”

“Why?”

“Because you need an ally and I am it, always have been.”

“I trust the captain, but I know there are certain things he can't officially know right now. I assumed the same held for you.”

Again, that amused smile, like there was a joke I wasn't getting. “Do you trust me, Madame Kirby?”

My immediate reaction was that I shouldn't trust anyone who asks that question in that light tone of voice. I trusted the captain with my life. I trusted his word. He had given no reason to doubt him and had been clear regarding his limitations. Could I say the same of Gravell?

“I have a question for you, Chief Gravell. I know that you won't tell me everything that's going on, but would you lie to me because it was expedient to do so?”

His smile faded. “I avoid lying. Withholding or being selective with information is easier.” His eyes met mine and his tone was solemn. “I can't promise to always tell you the whole truth, but to date I haven't lied to you. I won't lie to you unless I need to and I don't anticipate the need.”

Fair enough, I thought. I had my rational opinion. Gravell was, as stated, my ally. Irrationally, based on the fact that I felt safe around him, and possibly because he knew the words to some of my favourite songs, I decided that he was also a friend.

I smiled, triggering a tentative smile from Gravell. Warm brown eyes gazed expectantly and, once again, I thought of chocolate.

“I trust you.”





Chapter Twenty ~ Sabre Rattling



With Captain Campbell's compliments, I was invited to a breakfast the next morning. My clothes had appeared, clean and pressed, including my underwear. Sophie had them laundered overnight.

This time I wasn't caught off guard when I walked in on a meeting. The Doc had to take sick parade, so Gravell acted as my escort. He followed me through the door then faded into the background.

Dora and Reuben were at the table, which had been reduced in length since dinner. Tim was included and was currently sitting opposite Dora and Reuben, carrying on animated conversation over coffee. Standing nearby, Guy Franchot was chatting with Captain Campbell, holding a glass of orange juice as if it was wine. Both men greeted me with a smile, which I took as an invitation to join them.