‘Because orders is orders. And we’re navy men. And we’re the best of the navy men, which is why they’ve sent us.’
‘That’s true enough.’ Perkins sighed. ‘We’re the best they’ve got. But still, I wish they’d found some other poor sailors to send that way instead of us.’
‘Aye, but maybe we’ll find you a pretty girl up there to bring home with you . . . She could sing you a lullaby . . .’
The voices moved away until only the sound of the waves was left.
‘Did you know about that?’ Marina asked Jones.
‘The sonar transmitter on the island?’ He frowned. ‘I didn’t. But it makes sense. Your father is the best signals man the navy has got. If they need something mending, they’d send him.’
‘But why do the navy need a sonar transmitter on an island in the middle of nowhere?’
‘The Mordavians have started moving their battleships north. They’re going to block the passage to the New World colonies. The British can’t let that happen. The war will start with a battle in the Sea of Murmansk. The Admiralty must need that transmitter to send orders to their boats. Your father’s mission may change the outcome of the war.’
Could this be true, Marina wondered. If it was so important, why had Miss Smith had no knowledge of it?
Jones hugged himself. ‘This wind,’ he shivered. ‘I feel like it could blow up a storm.’
They bid each other goodnight, but as Marina climbed down into the hold, she saw a small spot of red light floating in the air. She ducked down and watched as a dark figure appeared. Trenchard, smoking. He paced from one side of the boat to the other, back and forth, always looking over the side.
As if he were searching for something in the black, impenetrable water.
15
The next morning, as Marina climbed up from the hold in answer to the clanging of the mess bell, she saw something which made her lower the hatch so that she could peer out unobserved. A small fishing net had been dropped in the night. Brown, Perkins and Trenchard were standing a few feet away from her, inspecting the catch.
‘Is it alive?’ Brown was bending over the tangled net.
‘Nah, mate. Look at its eyes!’ Perkins replied. ‘I’d not get too close, though.’
‘We should throw it back in.’ Brown stood up. ‘It’s giving me the collywobbles.’
‘It’s a sea witch,’ Trenchard declared.
‘Hush man,’ Brown hissed.
‘Why? We all know what it is. Probably called up by the girl.’
‘Hush, man! She’s only a child.’
‘Use your eyes. You’ve been at sea for years and never seen anything like this,’ Trenchard needled. ‘But that girl is on the boat for just days and look what gets caught in our net.’
‘That’s no way to talk about the Commander’s daughter,’ Perkins said, shocked.
‘Yeah. You wind your neck in, Trenchard,’ Brown growled. ‘You’ve got one of your moods on you.’ He squared up to him. He was the shorter man, but broader. ‘No more talk about the girl and sea witches, or you’ll be the one going overboard.’
Trenchard shrugged his shoulders into his heavy duffel coat and stepped back. ‘You’ll be sorry you didn’t listen to me. There’s no good comes of letting girls on boats.’ He took himself off to the mess.
‘Nothing but a troublemaker, that one,’ Brown said. ‘As if there are sea witches and strange creatures under the sea!’
Perkins shivered and pulled his knitted cap further down over his ears. ‘I wouldn’t be too sure,’ he said. ‘Did you know my grandfather saw a mermaid once? He heard a singing and a great sadness came over his heart. Thought it would sink him. And then he looks up and he sees her, sitting on a rock in the moonlight. Her skin was pale and her eyes were like dark pools a man could drown in. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.’
‘Was she combing her hair?’
‘Aye, she was that.’
‘And did she have a fish’s tail?’
‘Aye. With scales made from starlight.’ Perkins sighed.
Brown pushed him towards the mess. ‘Get over! Stop talking rot! Let’s get some food in you. We can deal with the catch after breakfast.’
Marina crept out. She edged towards the net. What was the thing they had seen? Amongst the shining, mercury-coloured fishes, she saw a tangle of tentacles. She crept closer. She mustn’t be scared – the creature was dead. But as she bent over it, it twitched and uncoiled a limb, which it flicked around her ankle, as if asking for her help. Its eyelid drew back and revealed a large glassy eye. The eye looked not just at her, but into her. It made her think of her experience in the Signals Room the day before: how she had felt as if she were hearing someone being hurt or punished. She shuddered. Well, here was a creature she could help.
‘Wait,’ she whispered, as she bent over the net. ‘Wait . . .’ And she gently pulled the creature out of the pile of fish. She thought it would feel slimy, and held her breath when she slid her fingers beneath it, but the creature’s skin was smooth and cool, like a pearl. It was far heavier than she had imagined, with its large head and many limbs. She could see its heart still beating through the semi-transparent flesh. And still its eye observed her, patiently, trusting that Marina would soon give it its freedom. She carried it over to the side of the boat and threw it into the water. It floated for an instant, like blossom and sea foam mixed, and then sank into the depths below.
After breakfast, Marina was surprised when Brown whispered for her to stay behind. ‘I’ve got something to say to the Commander,’ he explained. ‘And I think you need to hear it.’
He cleared his throat. ‘Sir! Permission to speak, sir.’
Commander Denham nodded his assent. ‘What is it, Brown?’
‘Sir. I had a thought about how Miss De— I mean, the
