𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛

four

When Tara first boarded the ship in Belfast, she did so for lack of a better alternative than getting arrested and sent back to her father. She hadn't thought of the technicalities that came with running onto a ship with no further plans than to get away from the guards on her tail.

She was so hungry. The only reason Tara had emerged from her hole earlier that day was to find something to eat in the harbor market, but she was spotted before she could. After the chase had ended, Tara had staggered her way to the cargo hold, lightheaded and exhausted beyond measure. She'd pried open the latches on the nearest container she could find and collapsed inside, trying her best not to get seasick on a pile of hay. Tara was so utterly depleted, it took more or less an hour before she was able to move her body again.

She'd sat up with a crude heave. At first, Tara had been reserved to leaving the door open a crack to let some light in, but she had quickly realized it was far, far too cold for that. She was forced to shut the door and confine herself to the dark. 

Aside from the swashing of the waves outside and her incessant tummy rumbling, Tara sat in complete silence with all the time in the world to think. It was only then that the severity of her situation bore down on her. She'd most likely killed that guard back in Belfast. That last look of him standing over her with her shawl clutched tightly between his fingers was branded into her memory. 

Now, she was a stowaway on a ship with no idea where she was headed. Tara was entirely out of her depth. She was more likely to starve to death in her metal hole before ever seeing a spot of land again. The voyage could last anywhere from a day to a month and sooner or later, she would have to work up the courage to swipe a meal, if she ever found the energy to stand upright again.

What if she starved because she was too scared to steal food from the crew? Would they notice if some rations went missing? Every second spent prodding into the future sent her heart beating a little faster.

The blistering cold from the open sea was barely negated by the sealed door and her light clothes left her teeth chattering and her lips turning blue. When Tara had stolen her clothes, she hadn't thought to factor a sea journey into her decision. Every slice of cold air within the container seeped straight through her fabrics like they weren't even there.

Her thoughts drifted precariously. The truth was, and she could barely admit it in her head, even while she was under the complete control of her parents, she still had some degree of happiness. Tara would have her time with Ali, forgetting about everything that made her life miserable and immersing herself in the girl that made it worth living. 

That hunger for independence made her forget what she had. Though it wasn't much, it was all someone could ask for and she'd slung it over her shoulder like a princess, thinking she deserved more out of life. When her father had announced to he was beginning the search for her husband, she had been more terrified than ever before and yet, so many other women had done it before her. Why was it that she couldn't?

Now, Tara believed that perhaps her life wasn't as bad as she had thought. Maybe all the beatings and discontent was just her fault. She just needed someone to blame and her parents were the only other people around to point fingers at.

She held her face in her small hands. Tara had plenty she could have been crying about, but the tears were all used up. She tried to breathe deeply, letting the icy air cool her insides and dutifully ignoring her teeth chattering.

Amidst the potent self-doubt and stomach churning, Tara had failed to notice a crop of brunette hair and green eyes peaking in from outside the container.

❖

Billy Tanson hated his job. He sailed from corner to corner of the oceans and saw colourful birds and ate strange looking fruits, but it meant nothing to him to do it alone.

He had a fiancée back home. A gorgeous lady that stole his heart before the war, and had helped him put it back together when he returned. Home didn't feel the same as before and it was his beautiful Evangeline that showed him how to live in this new world he was so lost in.

Billy dreamed of taking him and his sweet Evangeline off somewhere sunny with colourful birds and strange looking fruits. He wanted his family to have a future they could be proud of. One day, despite the parsimonious government, the lousy pay and Eva's hag of a mother, they would go sail away together.

Billy inhaled sharply as he emerged from the cabin door, the violent lash of cold, harsh wind greeting him like an old friend. He could taste the bitter sea salt in the air and the familiarity put him at ease.

Licking his dry lips, he ventured out towards the cargo hold to perform the first of the two daily routine checks. He didn't mind the job so much, not like the others did. Unlike his crewmates who preferred to spend their voyages drinking and gambling together, Billy was grateful for a moment's reprieve. 

He worked this job because he wasn't able to do anything else. He collected his pay and brought it straight back home to his Evangeline. He had no interest in lingering about men with whom he shared no interests or beliefs.

Billy walked up and down the neat rows of the cargo hold, tugging at the latches holding the containers tightly shut to test their integrity and moving on. While sluggishly pulling his feet, long used to the steady rocking of the sea, he noticed something strange about one of the containers.

The locking system was thorough: one on top, two in the middle and another on the bottom. Every time they set sail, every container they carried had to be checked twice before setting off and twice more a day for every day at sea. It was just too expensive to replace any goods damaged because the doors weren't shut right.

What was strange about this particular container, was that not a single one of these locks were shut in place, meaning that one of the crew was imminently due for a sacking, or there was something in that container that wasn't meant to be there.

Billy hesitated with his hand on the latch, before pulling it open slightly and peaking in. Inside the hay filled container, he easily spotted the bright locks of blonde hair. Her head was bent and face shaded by the grip of her trembling hands. She was cocooned in the corner of the container, her back hunched and legs quivering from the freeze.

Before she had the chance to take notice of him, he snatched his head from out of the doorway, leaning against the side of the container and taking a second to think.

Should he tell the crew? That's what he was told to do if the situation ever arose, stowaways were supposed to be reported directly to the captain and detained until they reached land again. He'd only ever been on a boat with a stowaway once before.

It had been a little boy, probably no older than ten. A crewmate of his had discovered him hiding in the boiler room and followed the procedure of report.

The voyage lasted four more days, of which the captain refused to expend any resources to the boy. By the time they glimpsed land again, he was a shrunken shell of pale and sweaty skin. He couldn't walk down the ladder so he was carried off and Billy never saw him again. They set sail three days later and pretended like nothing had ever happened.

Billy knew what Evangeline would want him to do. His sweet Eva was a warm-hearted woman, she would never let this woman suffer a similar fate.

He would have stayed out longer in reluctance, but the cold nipped at his skin and he hadn't come out dressed for a particularly long expedition. Billy took a steadying breath, edging carefully back to face the door of the container.

He rolled his shoulders and slipped inside.