‘Perhaps I should ask for an assistant,’ Miss Smith mused. While she had been speaking, she had taken out a small cigarette case from her bag. She flipped it open, selected a cigarette and lit it, using a lighter shaped like a tiny pistol. Marina was shocked. She had never seen a real, live woman smoke; only the photographs of ‘new women’ in the Society News. Miss Smith looked like a beautiful Medusa as she leant back in her chair, coiling snakes of smoke around her head. ‘It would need to be the right person, of course. Someone very young, who I could train up. And they would need to be bright and brave . . .’
‘And loyal,’ Marina added, helpfully.
‘And loyal, of course.’ Miss Smith smiled. ‘Perhaps a girl, no, a young woman, –’ Miss Smith nodded at Marina – ‘who has proved herself able to survive in inhospitable and desolate places. A young woman who has trained herself to notice details others would dismiss as unimportant. A young woman I could call my friend.’ She looked at Marina as she blew more smoke from her lipsticked mouth.
A shrill ringing sound. ‘Ah!’ Miss Smith jumped up and snatched a handset from a wooden box fixed to the wall. She held the trumpet-shaped earpiece to her head, turning away from Marina as she listened intently to what was being said. When she turned to Marina, her face blazed with happiness. ‘He’s been found!’ she declared.
‘My father?’
‘He will be with us shortly. I am just having my medical officer look at him.’
‘He’s not hurt?’
‘He’s a strong man, but he has been on the ice for over two days. It’s best that we check him over. Now. Why not have that piece of chocolate cake while we wait?’
Marina thought that it would be rude to disagree.
‘Simple pleasures,’ Miss Smith sighed as she handed Marina a slice of cake on another plate. ‘You must remember these moments, Marina. Two dear friends in the warmth of this hut, waiting for the safe return of your father.’ She looked grave, her voice became serious. ‘You know there will be a war very soon.’
‘It’s what my father thinks.’
‘The British navy is preparing for it. The Mordavians, too, have built a powerful navy. This war will be lost or won at sea.’ She frowned. ‘Tell me, did your father ever talk of a sonar transmitter on Pechorin Island?’
‘I . . . I . . . don’t remember.’ Marina felt awkward, suddenly. Was this something she could talk about with Miss Smith?
‘Oh, do try. Perhaps he mentioned something? A machine that could send a signal through the water that no one could intercept?’
Marina knew nothing of the sonar transmitter on the island other than that it was broken and needed mending. What should she say?
‘Perhaps he could not tell you,’ Miss Smith continued. ‘The transmitter is secret, after all. The British navy’s greatest discovery – did you know that? And all the work of your father!’
The door swung open. Paddy jumped up and gave a sharp bark of warning.
‘Shhh.’ Marina held him by his harness. She turned to the door. ‘Father?’ she cried out in surprise.
Had the search party got the right man?
The man who stood in the doorway did not look like her father. This man looked as if he’d been shipwrecked. His fur coat was gone. His hair stood up on end, his beard was unkempt and his clothes were dishevelled, the sweater torn at the sleeve. He cradled one arm in the other as if it caused him great pain. A large purple bruise bloomed on his cheekbone and his lip was swollen and split.
‘Marina?’
‘Come in, come in.’ Miss Smith waved to Commander Denham. ‘We’re so pleased we have found you.’
Marina grabbed her father’s coat and pulled him into the warmth of the room. He looked dazed, as if he had just woken up and couldn’t understand how he had arrived in this cosy place after the barren iciness of the island.
‘But how are you here?’ her father asked, looking at Marina intently. ‘I left you on the Sea Witch.’
‘I had to come and find you, Father.’ Marina sniffed. Her father looked so unlike himself she thought she might cry. That would be too awful for Miss Smith to see. She might think that Marina was not the sort of girl she would pick for her assistant.
‘Commander Denham.’ Miss Smith lightly touched Marina’s head in a comforting gesture. ‘I’m so pleased that we found you. Marina was out of her wits with worry. I must tell you that your daughter is quite the bravest girl I have ever met. To leave her boat and come and find her father! You should be proud of her.’
Commander Denham blinked, still seemingly confused.
‘Would you like some food?’ Marina tugged at his arm. Now she had him with her, she didn’t want him to only talk to Miss Smith; she wanted some of his attention for herself. ‘It’s quite delicious. There’s some meat, and it’s not at all like Ivy’s chewy cutlets. It’s a special recipe. From Miss Smith’s home town.’
Her father looked down at her as if he wanted the answer to something very important. ‘And where would that be, Marina?’
‘Somewhere in Northumbria.’ Marina then leant in and whispered, ‘That’s why she speaks with a funny accent.’
‘I’ll take some, thank you,’ he said. ‘If Miss Smith has any to spare.’
‘Always so polite.’ Miss Smith smiled as Marina heaped food on to a plate and handed it to her father. ‘There’s wine, too.’
Marina sloshed some wine into a glass.
‘Tell me, Miss Smith –’ Marina’s father looked around the hut for the first time – ‘where did you find my daughter?’
‘Oh, I think we found each other. You should have taken care of her and not allowed her to wander off on the ice shelf. You should be grateful I found her when I did, Commander. Marina is very lucky to have survived such conditions.’
Her father
