Girl on the Orlop Deck Read Online Free PDF

said, maintaining her politeness, ‘he’s my husband, sir, an’ he’s left his tools behind what he’ll need on the voyage.’
    His tone softened. ‘Don’t you fret your little head about tools, my dear,’ he advised. ‘We’ve tools of every description in the navy. The Admiralty sees us well provided. He’ll find all he needs when he’s aboard.’
    So that was a wasted effort. She thanked him and pushed on through the crowd. Who would know? There must be someone. What was it the barman had said? He’d been took by a man called Tom Kettle – she remembered that – and a man with a wooden leg. Very well then, she’d look for a man with a wooden leg. But even as she made her decision, she saw three men with wooden legs directly in her line of vision, all busy carrying things and none of them looking the least bit welcoming. Nevertheless she tried them all. ‘If you please, sir, could you tell me if you’ve met up with a man called Jem Templeman today?’
    The first man grunted and looked cross, the second told her to be off out of it, the third turned his head towards her so abruptly that the sack he was carrying caught her on the shoulder and nearly knocked her off her feet. She recovered her balance quickly, but not quickly enough to scold him for his carelessness. He was already deep into the crowd and wouldn’t have heard her even if she’d yelled at him. It made her feel disheartened to be so roughly treated but she went on searching. What else could she do?
    An hour went by and then another, tolled implacably by the church clock, and she still hadn’t found him. Bum boats arrived at the quayside,were loaded to the gunnels and set off again, oars creaking; a longboat eased alongside to collect the lounging officer; another squawking cartload of chickens was trundled across the cobbles; there were one-legged men wherever she looked. And it was growing dark and cold.
    She felt miserably weary to have searched for so long and with such a will and found no trace of him. She walked across to the bollard the officer had been using as a seat and sat on it herself, heavily. I won’t go home till I’ve found him, she thought. If it takes all night, I’ll find him come the finish.
    ‘Ain’t you found that feller a’ your’n then?’ a voice said above her.
    She glanced up into the speaker’s face and found she was looking at one of the local whores. She was an amazing sight, seen close to like that, her cheeks rouged red, her curled hair dyed the colour of straw, her teeth much browned and decayed, her titties pushed up so high by her stays that they tumbled out of her bodice as she leant forward. My stars, Marianne thought, what would Ma say if she knew I was talking to one of these? But the woman’s face was kindly and she looked concerned.
    ‘No,’ Marianne said. ‘I ent an’ that’s the truth of it.’
    ‘I been a-watchin’ you,’ the woman said, ‘between times like. I knew you was looking for someone, the way you been askin’.’
    ‘’Tis my husband,’ Marianne confessed.
    ‘Ah!’
    ‘We was married this afternoon an’ now he’s gone to sea an’ I don’t know where he is.’
    ‘He’s a hard-hearted wretch wherever he is,’ the whore said, trenchantly , ‘to leave his wife on their weddin’ day. I never heard the like. You’re well rid of him, you ask me. Find yourself another what’ll treat you better.’
    Marianne was annoyed to hear him blamed so roundly, particularly as it was exactly what she’d been thinking herself. ‘I didn’t ask you,’ she said hotly. ‘You en’t to speak of him so. You don’t know the ins and outs of it.’
    ‘Easy on, my lubber,’ the whore said, amicably. ‘Keep yer wool on. I meant no harm.’
    ‘I reckon he’s been press-ganged, poor man,’ Marianne said, speaking her thoughts. ‘It don’t make no sense for him to up sticks an’ go, not like that, an’ not on his weddin’ day.’
    ‘’Tain’t legal to press ’em, not no