We lowered the anchor next to a group of tiny cays which Solomon, our navigator, reckoned were around five leagues off the north-eastern coast of Andros Island. The islands were deserted as far as the eye could see – turquoise blue waters gently washed up on dazzling white shores, dotted with the occasional fat crab. Beyond the pristine beaches, thick-leafed rubber plants clung densely around palm trees, their trunks sprouting upwards and over, as if weighed down by the glut of plump green coconuts which – even from where we stood onboard – we could see burgeoning beneath their branches. From all the way up on the William’s forecastle deck, we could see the water surrounding the ship teemed with large green turtles and brightly coloured fish.
It felt like we had arrived in paradise.
“Somebody get me more ammo!” Jack shouted excitedly, leaning over the rail. “And bring me some bloody rum. We’re feasting on turtle tonight!”
While the crew picked off the fattest turtles they could see, Mary and I went to fetch a barrel of grog from the larder and more bullets from quarters.
“Are you feeling all right?” Mary asked, as I picked up Jack’s blackjack tankard from the bedstand. Its leather coating was well worn from countless nights carousing.
I turned and kissed her quickly, my arms full of supplies. “Don’t fuss, Mary. I’m still breathin’ and all in one piece, thanks to you. But…as it happens, I am more than a little interested…exactly how much convincin’ did Jack require to agree to my rescue?”
She had the grace to look away from me and paused at length before she replied. “A knife to his throat clinched the deal,” she said, her jaw tight with tension.
I had suspected as much but said nothing more, simply happy to be free, at sea, and back with Mary. “Come on, let’s celebrate,” I said lightly, and kissed her again.
We carried everything out to deck, where the crew were laughing and cheering, hoisting huge turtles out of the water with grappling hooks. Together, we tossed everything we required into the rowboats – still lashed astern in the haste of our escape – and the entire crew rowed to the nearest island.
We built a huge fire on the beach from driftwood and dried palm leaves and spit-roasted one turtle after another until we had had more than our fill of the succulent, rich meat. By the time darkness fell, three barrels of booze were empty, and Jack and the crew could not string a sentence together. They lay on the sand, giggling and hiccupping. It was only a matter of time, I knew, before they fell into a deep sleep.
I squeezed Mary’s knee in the darkness. “Come with me?”
We rose silently and walked along the beach, our fingers brushing against each other’s, until the orange glow of the campfire was well out of sight. I took a long swig of rum from a wineskin and passed it to Mary. When I watched her mouth cover where my lips had been, I felt a sudden flood of warmth. It bloomed deep within me, swirling and shifting pleasantly, like slow-moving honey. I stepped away from her and pulled off my boots, tossing them onto the sand.
“I need to bathe,” I said.
Slowly, I unbuttoned my breeches and pushed them off, kicking them to one side. Then I moved further away, stepping backwards into the warm shallow waters.
Mary grew entirely still as she watched me undress, as if she were sculpted in marble. Her eyes were intense, dark and wide – like pools of scalding hot oil in the moonlight.
My breath caught in my throat.
Mary wanted me. I had seen that look directed at me many times before and I knew it well. This time it felt different. Mary wanted me.
I held her gaze as boldly as I could. I took a deep breath to steady myself, and in one fluid motion pulled off my shirt. Despite the warmth of the evening, goosebumps prickled all over my bare skin.
My breath came quickly in short, shallow gasps.
I yearned for her to touch me.
Instantly, as if she had been reanimated by a sudden bolt of lightning, Mary flung off her coat and strode, fully clothed, into the sea, grabbing my face and kissing me deeply. I wasted no time unbuttoning her shirt and breeches, filling my palms with her warm, pliant breasts and cleaving my hips against hers. She felt wonderful to me. Strong and soft, powerful and gentle, all at once. I had a sudden, fleeting revelation: no wonder men desire us so ardently.
She moaned and swept her palms down my back, cupping my backside, dipping her fingers briefly into my centre, and lifted me so my legs wrapped around her waist. Robbed of breath, I pulled my lips from hers and latched my mouth onto her neck as she carried me further into the sea.
In that moment, it felt as though we were the only two people on that island, on the Earth. Somewhere outside of time. We were caught in the eye of a mighty squall, a swirling maelstrom of sensation.
“I belong to you now, Mary,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. “You, and the sea.”
12
We spent many happy months on the William after that. Mary and I did not reveal ourselves to Jack or the crew and we were able to steal moments together most days. Some
