“On a boat?” Just watching the gulls glide across the water made my stomach hurt. “I can’t. I can’t go on a boat again.”
“I think he told your Mama that you’d be hurt if she didn’t follow him.” He crouched down next to me. “If you come with me, she’ll see that’s not so.”
I knew that I had already drawn more than my fair share of luck. I knew that I had avoided my destiny twice already. I would not avoid it for a third time. Yet, if I stayed here, it would be Mama who would fulfil my destiny instead of me.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said.
I couldn’t tell him that if it was my destiny to drown, he wouldn’t be able to prevent it.
“Stay here a moment.”
I watched him walk to the end of the pier, look from side to side, then wave. A rowing boat came in to sight. It was a little bigger than the one the fisherman and Antonio had used, but still no bigger than a Thames wherry. Jacques beckoned me over. The pilot looked at me and said nothing. He was a broad-faced man with skin rubbed by harsh winds. Jacques Francis handed him a purse. The coins clinked as the pilot took it and laid it by his feet in the boat.
“This is Samuel Hambleton. He’ll take us there.”
Jacques took my hand and walked me to the edge of the pier. The boat rocked in front of me. My legs weren’t my legs, they were part of the river, flowing away from me.
“You have strength inside you, Eve,” Jacques said. “Just take one small step. Then another. If you must, close your eyes and I will help you aboard.”
I closed my eyes. He passed my hand to Samuel Hambleton. I felt the callouses and roughness of his skin as he gripped me.
“Hold her steady,” Jacques Francis said. I wasn’t sure if he meant me or the boat. I didn’t open my eyes. The fear was building inside me and I wanted to pull away and run as fast as I could, through the Bargate and on the road back to London. If I opened my eyes, I would do just that. Jacques Francis took my other hand. I stood there, my foot raised, halfway between land and water.
“Just one step,” he said, gently. “One step.”
I took the step. The boat moved, but the hands held me steady. My heart was trying to beat itself out of my body. I made my other foot follow.
“The bench is behind you,” Jacques Francis said. “Sit down.”
My knees were wobbly, so I let myself sink.
“Well done, Eve. I’m coming aboard now.”
The boat moved again and sunk lower into the water.
“Let’s go,” Jacques Francis said.
I opened my eyes. He had taken up the second oar. I stared straight ahead as I was propelled out and away from the land.
The smudge became sharper. It was definitely a boat. How many people were on it? One? Two? Was it really them? Closer and closer. I saw a bow, a mast, the back of a man. The man turned and saw us. It was George Symons. Where was Mama? I leaned over and tried to look down into the water. Instantly, my stomach churned and my eyes blurred. I sat upright so quickly the boat rocked. George Symons didn’t move. He seemed to be waiting for us. As we drew up next to him, I saw two heavy stones in the bottom of his boat. They were tied to either end of a length of rope.
“Where’s Joan?” Jacques Francis shouted.
George Symons shrugged. “I told her to bring me my fortune. If she didn’t, there would be no daughter to return to.”
Jacques Francis looked down at me. “Her daughter’s here.”
“Your infidel friend doesn’t know that.”
I heard Jacques Francis take a deep breath. “How long has she been down there?”
“I don’t have a timepiece to measure.” His voice was calm, like it didn’t matter if my mother was dead or not.
“There is no gold,” Jacques Francis said. “Just the poor souls who couldn’t be buried on the land. I told you so in London.”
George Symons shook his head. “Do you expect me to believe your godless lies?”
Jacques Francis said nothing. He removed his cap and his cape. “I will find your mother, Eve.”
The water stirred by the bow. Fingers, a whole hand, a face pushed through to the surface. My mother gasped and opened her eyes. She saw me.
“Eve?”
Jacques Francis held out an oar. “Take this, madam!”
“Do you have anything?” George Symons shouted. “Have you found the gold?”
Mama swam grasped the oar and, shuffling one hand over the other, pulled herself towards us.
“Eve,” she said. “I’m so happy—”
I heard the rasp of the rope and the thump as a stone hit the side of the boat.
“No!” Jacques Francis yelled.
He was too late. George Symons had dropped the rope across Mama’s left shoulder. Mama clung to the oar. I reached out my hand to her.
“Mama! I’m here!”
Jacques Francis heaved the oar closer. Mama’s fingers touched mine just as George Symons picked up the second stone.
“Take this!” Jacques Francis handed me the oar. It was heavy and I grasped it with both hands, but Mama’s weight made the wet wood start to slip through my palms. Jacques Francis tried to reach across and grasp the other boat. Both boats swayed as he lunged towards George Symons. George Symons glanced back at him then leaned over to drop the second stone over Mama.
“No!” Jacques Francis tried to pull George Symons away. “You’ll kill her!”
“Then she’ll die.”
The stone’s weight made him lurch forward. He was still, then I blinked and heard the splash as he fell in.
“Mama!”
The rope pressed against her throat and her mouth gaped open like she was gasping for breath. Then she was dragged backwards into the depths.
The water was my destiny, I knew it. I’d nearly drowned twice but had been saved. Did I wait for it
