Ghost Writer(57)

I looked down at Gravell.

Sleepily amused, he looked back at me. “Are you going to move?”

“I'm thinking about it. Right now I've got a feeling anything I do is going to make the situation worse.”

I shifted slightly. I couldn't get the leverage to go straight up. I tried going sideways. My foot was caught under the lip of the bunk.

“Madame Kirby, do you have any idea what you are doing?”

I didn't take the hard mass under my pelvis personally. I knew that men can just wake up like that. I also knew I wasn't helping matters. What was I supposed to do?

“Yes, Chief Gravell,” I said, using asperity to cover my embarrassment. “My foot is trapped. This position is equally awkward for me and probably more painful.”

I took a deep breath.

“Maybe you should roll away from bunk. That might free my foot.”

He rolled, and I yelped with pain as my foot was dragged against the rough underside of the lip. Now he was almost on top of me. He was almost fully dressed. All I was wearing was a nightshirt. I can't abide wearing underwear overnight. If he decided to look, he'd find that out since my nightshirt was no longer covering everything.

“Are you going to move?” I asked, trying to sound as sanguine as he had a moment ago.

“I'm thinking about it.”

“Think fast. I really do need the toilet.”

He leaned over me, bringing his lips tantalisingly close to mine, chocolate brown eyes, warm and sweet. I considered pulling him down, but opted for pulling down my nightshirt instead. Then he pushed himself up and stood, hands reaching down to pull me to my feet.

“You're bleeding,” he said, pointing at my ankle.

I darted to the head, closed the door and sank gratefully onto the toilet, relieved in so many more ways than I could say.

Despite having hair from hell, I asked Gravell if he needed the head before I showered. He took me up on my offer. Then he checked out my ankle. It wasn't a bad scrape. He suggested that he shower and change elsewhere and return to bandage my foot and take me to breakfast. About a half hour later, Lil called on the intra-ship phone system.

“Gravell says you could use an escort to breakfast.”

“I suppose so.”

“Are you ready to go?'

“I can be in five minutes.”

Actually, when the phone rang, I was still sitting in my towel and robe, wondering what might have happened if I hadn't been so desperate to pee.





Chapter Thirty-One ~ Be Prepared



Be prepared: the motto of Boy Scouts, Girl Guides, and mothers everywhere. That's why I went to breakfast with my briefcase, packed with laptop, notes, and a change of underwear. In the pockets of my cargo pants I carried my smartphone and Minton's journal. Clipped on my waistband was the radio-phone. I wasn't going to assume Doc would let me return to the émil Gagnan.

I was late for breakfast. Almost everyone else was done but, unusually for the morning, the team was lingering over coffee. They were here to see me off. This gave the perfect, unwanted opportunity to do what needed to be done.

Lil nudged me toward the group.

“Go sit. I’ll get our food.”

“Keep it light for me. The boat trip can be a bit rough.”

“Gotcha.”

I made a beeline for Mary Lou. She stood to give me a big hug.

“We heard about your accident, hon. You're going to see someone about the fainting, right?”

“Right after breakfast. It's already arranged.”

I took a deep breath, pulled out Minton's journal and passed it to her. I had got as much as I could out of it and Gravell had scanned the pages for me. I didn't think the ghosts needed the journal to reach me, and if they did, that was okay too. I got the message. I didn't need them making me pass out anymore.

“I don't understand,” Mary Lou said, turning the baggied book over in her hands.

“When I was trapped in the galley I pulled this out and started reading it. At the time, I wasn't sure if either the journal or I would get out of there, and I thought it might have some answers. I've had it ever since.”

“Jen.”

“I know. I should have given it to you earlier, but I had good reason to hold on to it.”

I faltered. Of all people, Mike came to my rescue.

“This is the kind of thing that Tinsdale would have held onto if he got it. If it weren't for you, he would have got the letters and photos.”

“Of course,” Mary Lou said.

I knew from her tone it would take time for her to forgive me for tampering with an artifact.

“I'm going to take this to the lab now.”

Mary Lou left me with an obviously shocked Tracy at her heels. Jamal gave an apologetic shrug and followed.

Lil placed large plate in front of me. The piece of toast and poached egg looked forlorn on it, especially compared to Lil’s loaded plate.

“I think I'm ready to forgive Chief Gravell,” Mike said, as if nothing had happened.

“Oh?” Maybe forgiveness would be catching.

“Yep. Although we haven't got official sanction to raise the station, he got us permission to examine the wreck and fix any damage done during the storm. We've already sent the bots down to look.”