Above the towering waves, where the wind tore unheeded at almost three hundred kilometres an hour, the invisible Cloud cruised unperturbed and unruffled. Trevor and Russell watched from the comfort of their recliner chairs and marvelled the icebreaker remained afloat.
Each time the icebreaker tottered on the white curling crest of a thirty-metre wave, the storm savaged the ship like a dog playing with a rag doll. She rolled and plunged, then careened into the foaming valleys and wallowed up the next fluid mountain, bravely and persistently fighting her way further and further into the heart of the South Pacific.
The ship was strong, but she shrieked and yelled in agony. Every wall, floor and ceiling quivered and groaned as the storm wrung and twisted the vessel. Margery and Dennis had strapped themselves to their beds and lay in their own vomit. They slept in a semi-conscious haze, and prayed and wished they were dead.
The nightmare storm ravaged throughout three long days and nights before it admitted defeat and left in search of other ships to terrorise. The icebreaker still pitched and rolled on the mountainous swells, but with less ferocity and a blessed, gentler motion. Dennis stirred, and crawled across the floor to help Margery clean herself up.
The icebreaker steadied. Then loud explosions boomed and screeched through her body as if she ran against rocks.
'What now?' said Margery, staggering to the little round window. She opened the blind and blinked. Ice floated everywhere, grey, cold, and desolate. Suddenly, the ship hit something solid and juddered to a halt, throwing Margery into her chair. Immediately, the ship's engines roared with power and the icebreaker forced her way into an endless field of brilliant white ice.
Two hours later, the engines stopped, and the icebreaker stood as solid and silent as a snowman at midnight.
'Good morning one and all,' crackled the cabin speaker. 'We'll take a rest to check for damage and clean up. Dinner will be served in the mess hall in one hour.'
…
Timmy bustled backward and forwards between the kitchen and mess room, his practised hand arranging place mats, crockery, cutlery, glasses and serviettes. He arranged trays of steaming poached fish and boiled vegetables within everyone's reach. Satisfied every person had all they needed, he sat beside Margery.
'I'm sorry about the rough ride,' said Captain Adam, as unflustered as when they departed. 'That's about as bad as it gets, poor Horace has been terror stricken, though to give him credit, he wasn't seasick. I think you'll agree, Margery, if I may be so bold to use your first name, this isn't a cruise ship. But it looks as though you have survived. All of us have survived.'
'I shan't ever set foot in a boat again,' said Dennis.
'I'm afraid you might be stuck on this boat for a considerable time,' said Captain Adam. 'When the ice becomes impossibly thick we'll be stuck here until winter loosens its grip. Could take months before we break free.'
'Ah,' said Margery. 'I'm afraid you're wrong there, Captain Adam. In another few months, if we don't complete our mission, there won't be a speck of ice anywhere in the world and the sea will be scalding hot.'
'I don't believe in anything I have not seen,' said Captain Adam, 'and as I have never seen the Antarctic free from snow and ice, I don't believe I ever will.'
'I sincerely hope you never will,' said Dennis. He forced himself to eat some fish and it settled his stomach like magic. All he needed now was fresh air to clear his dizzy head. 'Can we go up on deck?' he asked.
'Yes,' said the captain. 'Go and breathe some fresh air and check your equipment. Take Timmy with you and be careful, there's ice everywhere. But you've only got a few minutes.'
'Can I stay in my container-laboratory and work on my experiments, aren't we finished with stormy seas?'
Captain Adam shook his head. 'Breaking through thick ice is no picnic either. My ship can break ice fifteen metres thick…'
'Fifteen metres?' said Dennis. 'That's incredible.'
Fred paused in his eating, nodded and pointed his knife at the ceiling. 'She's an incredible ship. If ramming doesn't break the ice, we ride on up and use her weight. And in case we get stuck, we've even got a heavy gyroscope mounted inside the ship to make it wriggle loose. There's a lot of movement, Dr Cloud, some of it vicious.'
'There you have it,' said Captain Adam. 'As you see, Dennis, there's no way you can remain on deck.'
The crew scattered and hurried away to check for damage and carry out repairs. Margery made her way outside and stood at the railings, marvelling at her new world. A flaming red sun rested on the horizon. Streaking towards her like fingers of molten metal, powdery snow scurried across a sea of solid ice. She hugged herself to stay warm and searched the sapphire blue sky for her sons in the Cloud. There was no sign, but she waved anyway. Reluctantly, she made her way back to her cabin.
With everyone safely back inside, the icebreaker's engines throbbed into life. The ship shook herself free and drove on.
~*~
Up in the Cloud, Russell waved back to his mother.
'She can't see you,' said Trevor.
'I know, but she didn't look very happy. I expect they wish they were up here with us. Tell you what. Let's give them a hand. They'll never get anywhere at that speed. Can we clear a path for the icebreaker?'
~*~
Captain Adam rubbed his eyes, scratched his beard, and rubbed his eyes once more. He couldn't believe what he saw. Directly ahead, as if an invisible giant boulder ploughed across the landscape, ice split and crumbled, imploding, sending seawater spouting like a geyser.
'Cut the engines,' he said. The icebreaker stopped and so did the phenomenon.
'Forward half speed.'
The ice ahead continued to break, forming a channel, matching their speed.
'Full reverse.'
They backed up one hundred metres.
'Full speed to starboard.'
They cut a new path into the ice–and a new channel broke ahead of them.
The captain slumped back in his chair wondering how he should word this incident in his logbook–or whether he should omit it altogether. 'Full speed ahead, Horace. Is it just me or do you see what I see?'
'I see it too, Captain Adam.'
'And do you understand what's happening?'
'No, Sir, but if this keeps up we'll be at our destination within hours instead of days.'
They sped forward in this weird and wonderful manner for thirty-six hours. The channel never faltered, and just when Captain Adam expected the ice to become grossly thick, it became thinner. To his astonishment, they broke through into a vast lake of bright pink water.
'Neptune's whiskers,' whispered Captain Adam. 'I don't believe it.' With a shaky finger, he pressed a button on the intercom panel. 'Timmy, fetch Dennis and Margery and bring them here immediately.'
Two minutes later, Captain Adam greeted the scientists, his face flushed and excited. 'I didn't believe you,' were his first words. 'Take a look,' were his second.
They floated in bright pink water, and the ice landscape had fallen far behind. Directly ahead, a wall of ice soared almost five thousand metres into the sky and spread from west to east on each horizon.
'This enormous mountain of ice isn't supposed to be here,' said the captain, 'and according to our echo sounder, this monster is resting on the ocean bed. I think we've arrived at your iceberg.'
~*~
Dennis unlocked the container-laboratory, stepped in, and inhaled deeply. Chloroform and other chemical solvents tingled his nostrils and he sighed with delight. 'Come on in, Timmy, and make yourself comfortable.'
'Smells like a dentist,' said Timmy, 'and this room looks like the waiting room.'
'A rational observation,' said Margery. 'This small anteroom is where we eat and rest, but most of our time is spent in the laboratory through there.' She pointed through a glass wall.
Timmy sat on a soft corner settee and rested his elbows on the table. 'Can I stay here all the time?' he asked. 'Uncle said I should look after you and I won't be a bother. I'll just sit here quietly and run to fetch things as you need them. Can I?'
'It would be rather practical,' said Dennis.
'I'll make a condition with you, Timmy,' said Margery. 'You can stay here if you bring your acoustic guitar and play music for us.'
'Oh I say, Margery,' said Dennis, 'what a fabulous idea. I love classical guitar music, can you play Mozart and the such, Timmy?'
'Never learnt none of that stuff.'
'Well, never mind, we have rather a large selection of classical music. You can play along and learn as you go.'
Timmy grabbed the chance. 'Okay, Marge, it's a deal. I'll do anything to stay away from that Leroy ape, and… and I like you two.'
'Well the feeling is mutual, my dear boy,' said Dennis. 'But we must get on.'
The two scientists entered a small, intermediate, changing room. They donned white coats, white hats, white slip on shoes, and passed through to the laboratory. They pulled open cupboards, rummaged in drawers, set up Bunsen burners, test tubes, rubber pipes and instruments of every shape and size. They uncovered a photo-spectrometer, a chromatograph, a particle accelerator, a synchrocyclotron, two huge microscopes, and holography equipment. And then, as a finishing touch, came the incubators, calculators, and percolators.
Dials were set, shiny metal instruments laid out, notepads and pens spread all over the place, until, nodding with satisfaction, the scientists made their way back out.
'Come along, young chap,' said Dennis, carrying a tray of instruments. 'We're ready to fetch a sample, would you care to assist?'
At the ship's railings, Dennis set the tray down by his feet. He drew a pair of rubber gloves over his long bony hands, tied nylon-fishing line to a glass test tube and lowered it over the side. It wallowed in the sea and sank. He pulled it back up filled with pink water.
'I'll just put the test tube in its little stand and measure the temperature,' explained Dennis, lowering a thin sensor into the sample.
'Upon my soul,' he exclaimed, 'just look how fast the temperature's rising.' The needle on his instrument rose across the scale, accelerating as it went. Steam rose from the test tube and small bubbles appeared inside the glass. Using a pair of tongs, he gripped the test tube and flung it over the ship's side.
'Wow, Den,' shouted Timmy, pointing to where it hit the water, 'the whole sea is boiling.'
Fizzing bubbles burst to the surface as if a red-hot poker had been thrown in, then the sea calmed, and Dennis let his breath out with a loud whoosh.
'That took you by surprise. Didn't it, Den? You weren't expecting that to happen. How are you going to get a sample now?'
'Goodness me,' said Dennis, quickly regaining his composure. 'This is what experimentation is all about, don't you know. That was a huge step forward, we'll soon get to the bottom of this.'
'How so?'
'Glass is made of sand, plus a few other minerals. We already know salt slows the pink water's chemical reaction, we now know something in the glass hastens it.'
Dennis bent down to his tray and reeled off four lengths of fishing line. 'Fun isn't it?' he said, tying one piece of line to a plastic spoon and another piece of line to a stainless steel spoon.
He passed the two spoons to Timmy.
'You can help, just let me tie some line to this wooden spatula and this aluminium dish–like so. Now, let's dangle these items into the sea and observe how they react.'
They held their fishing lines and peered over the ship's railing for several minutes. 'How are your spoons getting along?' asked Dennis.
'Not much happening here.'
'Well I can see the aluminium dish is warming up. Note how it steams when I lift it from the water. The wooden spatula seems fine though.' He tossed his fishing lines away and told Timmy to do the same.
Selecting a stainless steel beaker from his tray, he attached a piece of fishing line. The beaker splashed into the sea and came up filled to the brim. Dennis immersed the temperature sensor and nodded. 'Yes. This is stable. Thank you, Timmy, I now have my sample and we can proceed. We'll soon get to the bottom of this.'
Hours passed, and Timmy asked himself a hundred times what 'soon' means. He gave up waiting, fetched dinner on a tray, and tapped on the glass dividing wall. The scientists ignored him. When the food grew cold, he carried it away and returned with sandwiches.
As evening drew on, Dennis and Margery stopped for a break.
'Have you found the position of equilibrium yet, Dennis?' asked Margery, still engrossed in her work and ignoring Timmy.
Dennis grabbed a sandwich in each hand. 'Far to the left, Margery, hardly any product is formed from the reactants.'
'Don't speak with your mouth full, Dennis. Have you found a suitable catalyst yet, we really must speed up the reaction.'
'Only at the molecular level, but my macroscopic equilibrium concentrations are constant.'
'Have you written an equilibrium equation for the reaction?'
'Of course, Margery. Oh look. A couple of ham sandwiches, your favourite.'
'Thank you, Dennis.'
The tray was soon empty, and the two scientists stretched out on the sofa for a nap. They woke after six hours, stretched, yawned, and ate breakfast.'
'That's better,' said Margery, pressing her hair back in place. 'Thank you, Timmy. You're a marvellous help. I really ought to shower but we better get on. I'm ready for another session, how about you, Dennis?'
'Not really' said Dennis, rubbing his eyes. 'I haven't slept well, I keep pondering about my brain drug.'
'Brain drug?' said Timmy. 'What about the pink water?'
'I'm working on a brain drug too, Timmy, in-between.'
'Oh. What's the most difficult, the brain drug or the pink water?'
'This pink water business is no more than an irritating interruption,' said Dennis. 'But my brain drug will revolutionise mental health. Disorders will be a thing of the past, it'll be the biggest breakthrough since penicillin.'
'Oh,' said Timmy, shrugging. 'That's good. Does my guitar playing annoy you?'
'You play the guitar beautifully,' said Margery, smiling at Timmy's innocence. 'You've a lot of talent, nice voice too, but can't you play something jolly? You either play death dirges or war marches.'
'I'm sorry, Marge, but it's my mood that decides. I either feel sad or angry and it comes out when I play. Do you want me to stop?'
'No, Timmy, you play like a maestro, just play something bright and cheerful once in a while.'
All morning the scientists scribbled notes, read dials and glared into their telescopes. At mid-afternoon they stopped for another break, still conferring in their secret scientific language.
'We're not progressing fast enough,' said Margery. 'I think you're spending too much time on your brain cocktail.'
'Oh, I wouldn't say that, Margery, I think we're making excellent progress. It's taking longer than I expected because we have nothing like a standard molar enthalpy of the reaction here, the calculations are rather complicated, don't you know.'
'We need results, Dennis, not weak excuses. And while you've been engrossed in your brain drug, I've managed to isolate a mineral cation.'
'Have you? Well done. We'll see how it interacts with my anionic ligand, hopefully, it should form an electrically neutral complex, and if does, we'll have a pink water antidote.'
~*~
Cook had prepared the most delicious casserole for dinner. He'd baked fluffy-crusty rolls for the side plate, mixed a crispy salad for starters, and assembled a scrumptious chocolate sundae for dessert. Even so, Cook was not happy.
'My word, Cook,' said Captain Adam as he entered the mess hall. 'Care to tell me what's the problem?'
Cook stood in his kitchen doorway with folded arms, legs spread wide. 'I refuse to do all the work here. Where is Timmy? I can't make the food and lay the table and serve the food and clear away and wash up. What do you think I am? I'm the cook, not the dinner lady. How many arms do you think I have?'
Captain Adam scratched his beard and nodded. 'Quite right, Cook, quite so.' He turned to survey his crew and placed a hand on Leroy's broad shoulder.
'Leroy, my good man, would you help Cook until this business is over. Look alive, come along.'
Leroy resisted the captain's gentle push and remained stock-still. 'Ain't part of my job,' he said, and shook Captain Adam's hand off. 'I ain't gonna do it.'
'Come now, Leroy. Don't be difficult. It's only temporary. Don't make me order you to do it.'
'It ain't my job.'
The other men stepped to a safe distance.
'This whole mission is unusual, Leroy, all of us are doing things above and beyond our normal duties. The rest of the men here are officers, do you expect any of them to wait on you?'
'Why can't Timmy do it?'
'Timmy is also performing duties beyond his normal tasks. Come along now, Leroy, I'll help you lay the table.'
Leroy tensed his shoulders, grunted, and made for the kitchen.
Cook blocked his way. 'Show me your hands,' he said. 'Nobody comes into my kitchen and touches my food unless their hands are scrubbed clean.'
Leroy brushed Cook aside as if he was a swing door and grabbed the casserole. He carried it to the mess room and banged it down on the table. From the sideboard, he lifted out a stack of plates and crashed them down beside the casserole. Then he pulled open a drawer, scooped up a fistful of knives and forks, and cast them on the table so half clattered to the floor. Scowling, he served himself a huge portion of casserole, slumped down in his usual place at the table, and started eating.
'Yes. Quite so,' said Captain Adam, spreading the plates out.
Cook carried the remaining food from the kitchen, and grouched back.
Eager to finish and get away, Fred and Horace served themselves casserole and spooned it down their throats as fast as they possibly could. Leroy, still wearing his rolled up knitted hat, helped himself to a second large portion and four bread rolls. By the time he had finished, the mess room was deserted and he served himself a third portion followed by the whole bowl of chocolate sundae.
'Nice,' said Leroy, and burped.
Cook had taken possession of the kitchen doorway again. 'Bring the dirty plates and put them in the sink,' he said. 'Then you can go. I don't want you in my kitchen. Tomorrow I'll place the food on the sideboard like a buffet. All I want you to do is tidy up. Is that too much to ask?'
Leroy scowled at Cook, stood up, expanded his chest, and swept the dirty plates and cutlery into his arms. He marched to the kitchen sink and threw his load in with a frightful crash.
'Get out,' screamed Cook. 'Get out, you animal.'
Leroy squared his massive shoulders and swaggered across the mess hall. Before leaving the room he turned back and said, 'Nice.'
He entered the corridor, turned into a longer corridor and stopped dead. Up ahead, backing in from the deck with a large tray in his arms, was Timmy.
The door closed behind Timmy and he set off along the corridor. Too late, he caught sight of Leroy. He hesitated and considered dropping the tray and running away in the other direction.
But he was too slow. Leroy bound forward and struck the tray from beneath, sending it crashing into the ceiling. Food, drink, cutlery and broken glass rained down on Timmy's head.
'I ain't doing no kitchen work,' barked Leroy. 'You get back in there and do your own shitty job or I'll punch your face in.'
'Get away from me you ugly ape,' said Timmy, backing away. 'My uncle is the boss around here and I don't take orders from you. I hate your guts and one day I'm going to kill you, just you wait and see.'
Leroy's huge fist smashed into Timmy's face. 'I don't care who the boss is, but I ain't doing no kitchen work.'
~*~
Many hours passed before Timmy crept back into the laboratory-container and shrunk into the settee's corner. He placed the tray quietly on the table so as not to disturb Dennis and Margery, and stretched out along the settee to sleep.
Late next morning, Dennis needed a whole bucketful of pink seawater and rushed in and out without noticing Timmy. He placed the bucket in the centre of the laboratory and smiled at Margery.
'Are you ready?' he asked.
'Yes, Dennis, I'm ready. Pour it in.'
With a steady hand, Dennis tipped a stainless steel thimbleful of green liquid into the bucket. Putting his arm around Margery's shoulders, he said. 'Nothing to do but wait now.'
'Yes, Dennis, I'm starved. Shall we find something to eat and breathe some fresh air while we wait?'
'I can see it's working already,' said Dennis. 'But come along, watched kettles never boil, don't you know.'
Timmy sat up as soon as he heard them approach and pushed the tray of sandwiches into the table's centre. Margery held her hands to her mouth and screamed.
'My God, Timmy, your face, what on earth has happened?'
Timmy sobbed and large tears dripped from his chin. The left side of his face shone red, brown, and yellow. A puffy swollen welt pinched his eye shut.
'By Heavens,' said Dennis, bending closer. 'That's a corker. Who did it?'
'Really, Dennis,' said Margery. 'Do you need to ask?'
'I'll kill him,' said Timmy. 'I swear I'll kill him.'
'This has gone too far,' said Margery. She turned to Dennis and pushed him towards the door. 'Don't just stand there,' she said, 'go and reprimand him this instant.'
Dennis stood there, resisting, gently shaking his head. 'Well now, Margery, let's not be hasty here. Perhaps we should let Timmy explain what's happened, and then go to the captain.'
'If you don't go this instant, Dennis, I shall go myself. I'm not afraid of that brute, even if you are. I won't tolerate his outrageous behaviour.'
'Yes, Margery,' said Dennis, without enthusiasm.
He advanced with small steps, muttering as he went. 'What sort of nonsense is this? I'm not a physical man, what does Margery expect me to do?'
His steps grew longer and more determined. 'Violence is a criminal offence,' he reminded himself. 'The weak need protection. No matter what Timmy is guilty of, he doesn't deserve to be struck. My word, his face is a mess. Upon my soul, Margery is right, Leroy needs to be put in his place, it is outrageous.'
Reaching Leroy's door, he barged straight in.
Leroy sat at his desk, studying a motorcycle magazine.
'Now you listen here,' said Dennis, thumping his clenched fist on the desk, 'I'll not stand for this…'
Leroy leapt up, grabbed Dennis under his armpits, lifted him off his feet, and slammed him against the wall over and over again until he wilted in his grasp.
Margery had followed Dennis at a safe distance. When she heard the commotion, she ran the last few steps and bounded through the door. She shrieked, picked up a metal tray lying on Leroy's bed and smashed it over his head. His rolled up hat fell to the floor. 'Leave him alone you brute,' she screamed, smashing the tray with all her might.
Leroy let Dennis sink to the floor and faced Margery. He opened his wardrobe, pushed her in, slammed the door shut, and locked it. Then he turned back to Dennis and lifted him to his feet.
Dennis swayed on jellified legs and leant against the wall to hold himself upright.
'Take your bawling bitch with you and get out,' growled Leroy.
Margery's claustrophobia made her gag with fear. Too terrified to scream, her knees buckled and she swooned. Dennis fumbled with the key, tore open the door, and released her into his arms.
They stumbled into the corridor, and Leroy's door banged shut behind them with enough force to burst their eardrums. They hobbled along, arm in arm, Margery in tears, Dennis assuring her she was his precious dove. They made straight for Captain Adam's bridge.
'Neptune's whiskers,' said Captain Adam as soon as he saw the scientists. 'Has there been an accident? Come in, come in and tell me what's happened.'
'Leroy,' screamed Margery. 'That is what has happened. He has physically assaulted Timmy, Dennis, and me. I demand–do you hear me? I demand you lock him away.'
'I think you better come in and sit down, both of you,' said the captain. 'Horace, put the kettle on for a cup of tea.'
'I say old man,' said Dennis. 'I'd rather have a whisky. I can't stop shaking.'
Horace put the kettle on, then found a brown bottle in the medicine cupboard. He poured out a large glass and handed it to Dennis, who swallowed the contents in one gulp.
'We don't encourage alcohol,' said Captain Adam, taking the glass and putting it aside, 'except in emergencies.'
Horace lifted Margery's wrist in his gloved hand and counted her pulse. 'Are either of you physically hurt?' he asked.
Margery snatched her wrist back and stroked Dennis' chin. 'How are you, Dennis, did he hurt you?'
'Only my pride, Margery, only my pride. If I'd been twenty years younger I'd have given him what for.'
'Now see here, Captain Adam,' said Margery. 'Your nephew, Timmy, has a black eye the size of a bowling ball, and I demand to know what you intend to do about Leroy.'
'Ah, Timmy, poor boy, poor boy, always being hurt.' The captain clasped his hands behind his back and strolled up and down the bridge, gazing at the floor and shaking his head from side to side.
'Timmy's mother,' he said, 'my sister, was an alcoholic–so was her husband, and Timmy, well… Timmy has had a hard time of it.'
Horace placed a steaming mug of tea in front of the scientists and evaporated into the background. The captain continued his wanderings.
'It's a tragic story,' said the captain. 'My sister was a lovely girl, as bright and cheerful as a spring morning in May. I never saw her so happy as the day she married, and her husband was as gentle and loving as the beautiful songs he sang. When Timmy came along, well, I don't really understand, but they didn't cope, it was as though he came between them. He upset their lives somehow.'
'Timmy has a picture of them in his cabin,' said Margery, 'they look very happy.'
'Yes, they were–until that damned alcohol infested their lives.'
'Alcoholism has ruined many lives,' agreed Margery.
'Her husband died in a road accident, drunk as a monk he was, and my sister fell to pieces after that. Like most alcoholics, she was devilish clever to hide it, and Timmy's life became a nightmare. To cut a long story short, she lost custody of him and drunk herself to death. That's when he came to live with me.'
'Well, Captain Adam, under your care, the poor boy is still being mistreated. I demand to know what you intend to do about Leroy.'
The captain shrugged. 'I don't think he will cooperate.'
'Why on earth have you taken him on-board?'
A shadow of anger crossed the captain's brow. 'I have my personal reasons, madam, which I have no intention of sharing with you.'
'For God's sake,' said Margery. 'Leroy has attacked three people. I'm not interested in your personal reasons, I demand you to put him out of harms way.'
The captain chewed his lip. 'This puts me in an extremely difficult situation. I find this state of affairs downright agonising.'
As the captain struggle with his conscience, Margery gave him time, one foot tapping the floor.
'You see,' said the captain, 'I vowed I would never show aggression or use physical violence against Leroy. His pa was a bully who dealt out violent punishment as often as any other father deals out friendly smiles. Leroy's younger brother was so afraid of their pa that he ran away and drowned himself in the river Mersey.
'I'm really not interested in hearing this,' said Margery.
'His mother, bless her soul,' said the captain, ignoring Margery's objection, 'was never allowed to comfort him, no matter how unhappy he was. The only emotion ever granted him has been violence and anger. Leroy never learnt how to be gentle, he only learnt how to be violent.'
'Which is why he needs locking away,' said Margery. 'Men are so stupid,'
'We are, Margery. Yes, we certainly are.' The captain's expression softened. 'Leroy's mother was a lovely girl though. Gentle as a lamb and as pretty a creature as God has ever created. Tragic. The whole business is tragic.'
'Did you know her well?' asked Margery.
'I've known Leroy's mother since before he was born. I'm a sailor, Margery, I've always been a sailor, and you know what they say about sailors–"a girl in every port". I should have married her myself, but I was often away at sea and she didn't wait for me, can't say I blame her really. But why she married that confounded, no-good, tyrant I'll never understand.'
His eyes glazed as if he could see nothing but the past. 'I was a young man then, Margery. My hair was jet black and I was strong as an ox. He was a monstrosity of a man, despised and feared by all–except me. One day, on one of my returns to Liverpool, we fought over the girl and he ended in hospita