The Sea Witch. Where was she now?
The sledge stopped outside one of the huts. Paddy lifted his head and sniffed the air. Miss Smith had bent over to unstrap her snow equipment and the manservant took off his leather harness. He stepped forward, the wind screaming, and opened the door.
‘Hurry,’ Miss Smith said. ‘We must get you out of this cold.’ Her face was as bright and white as the snow, her eyes glittering.
Marina dragged a sleepy Paddy into the hut. The manservant pulled his sledge away and Miss Smith closed the door on the wind. She quickly lit the oil lamps and placed more logs in a small iron stove. The room was furnished with comfortable armchairs and white bearskin rugs, a bookcase and a large painting of a medieval castle on a hill. It was just the sort of room that Marina would have wanted for herself – if someone had taken away the rugs. Perhaps soon her father would be here to join her and they could sit with Miss Smith and talk for a while before returning to London.
‘I hope Father will be here soon.’
‘I have ordered the sentry to send out search parties.’ Her voice was calm and reassuring. ‘If your father is anywhere on this island, we will find him. Sit down – please, make yourself comfortable. I’m sure we won’t have long to wait.’
Marina sank into one of the armchairs and Paddy flopped down at her feet. ‘Now put your feet on that little brass box on the floor,’ Miss Smith instructed. ‘It’s a charcoal burner. ‘You can’t always tell how cold you are. Your father, when we’ve found him, will not be very pleased with me if I return you to him without several toes.’
‘I don’t feel the cold,’ Marina said. But Miss Smith smiled and wagged her finger and came and lifted Marina’s feet on to the little box. A delicious warmth flowed up through the soles of her boots.
‘I won’t allow my friends to get cold.’ Miss Smith patted her hand.
‘My father didn’t mention that he was travelling to anywhere like this,’ Marina said. ‘He said that he needed to take everything with him for his journey. He was going to eat only the food he took with him and sleep in a tent on the snow.’
‘Perhaps your father did not realize that since he was last here, the whaling station has become so important to the navy. Fifteen years ago, there was just one hut. But now we have a hundred men stationed here. We need facilities for them. Men work better when they are well rested and well fed. Tell me –’ Miss Smith raised an eyebrow – ‘does your father still eat that awful mix of grease and dried meat?’
Marina pulled the calico-wrapped ball out of her pocket. ‘Pemmican? Cook says it tastes like Christmas dinner when you’re cold and hungry.’
‘Urgh.’ Miss Smith wrinkled her nose. ‘Your father always likes to do things the hard way.’ She took off her coat and sat down on the chair opposite Marina. She was wearing a dark uniform: a narrow-cut jacket with gilt buttons over a skirt that stopped well short of her ankles. She stretched out her legs and placed her white boots next to Marina’s feet on the charcoal burner. ‘He once spent a year rowing himself round the coast of Choseon.’
‘How do you know that?’ Marina asked.
‘I read his files, don’t forget. My work at the Admiralty means I know all sorts of things about the men who sail the world for the king . . .’ She smiled and her cheek dimpled. ‘And I have had a fascination with your father’s work for as long as I have worked in the office of the First Sea Lord. Which is why I was so surprised about this latest jaunt of his.’ Miss Smith pulled off her sealskin gloves, frowning slightly.
‘Do you think it will take long to find my father?’ A faint prickle of fear. Could her father have got lost? Perhaps Marina should be outside, joining the search party.
‘The men will turn the island upside down, if necessary, to find him. They’ll pick him up soon. Let me make you some tea while we wait.’
She stood up and poured water from a pretty silver kettle sitting on a stand above a spirit light into a teapot on the stove, and added tea leaves. She dropped sugar cubes into an enamel mug with sugar tongs shaped liked claws. The tea tasted sweet and smoky.
‘So warming,’ Miss Smith said as she took a sip from her mug. ‘Now, why don’t you tell me about your accidental trip to Pechorin Island? Just how did you find your way on to the ship? I was so anxious about you when I saw that the Neptune had left and yet my dear little friend was nowhere to be seen. I can’t imagine what your father must have said when he saw you. Such a strange idea of his, to take a small fishing vessel on this trip. Anyone would think he didn’t want us to know he was coming . . .’
Marina enjoyed talking to Miss Smith. The young woman listened so carefully, unlike Ivy, who only ever gave her half her attention. Or her father, who had rarely listened at all. Marina felt herself glow as she told Miss Smith about what an important member of the crew she had become, how she had named all the dogs, seen whales, and even plucked a flying signals device out of the sky. Miss Smith was fascinated and asked question after question. No detail
