Page 51 of Valour

It was a little after midnight, and Charlotte sat by the stove in the galley, warming her frozen hands by the fire. Arnold and Winston sat huddled close on either side of her, smoking pipes and enjoying the extra rations that the night watch afforded.

She nibbled at a biscuit and poured a measure of whiskey. She was still learning to stomach the flavour, but the warmth that the drink brought to her throat and belly were welcome.

“Alright, I’m going to move or I fear I shall freeze in place,” Charlotte said, donning her wolf-skin gloves and rising slowly to her feet, Marjorie instantly at her side. Winston got up too. After the mysterious disappearance of James, they were still patrolling in pairs, even though a month had passed with no more sightings of Odette or ice holes. And of course, she had shown Hester the part of her book that depicted the red-haired siren monster.

Charlotte had cried for days after James had disappeared. The thought of him drowning beneath the ice too horrible to bear.

She pulled a scarf out of her coat pocket, and a slip of paper, covered in writing, fell out too.

Arnold picked it up. “You dropped this,” he said, holding it out.

“Oh! Thank you.” Charlotte snatched it and placed it back in her pocket.

“What is it?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, just some silly sentences.”

Arnold stood and motioned for Winston to sit. He grabbed the camera bag he usually carried and pulled on his hat, the green one with two tassels. At first Charlotte had thought the hat very silly indeed, but over time she found that she couldn’t imagine him without it. He picked up a pair of skis resting against the wall. “I know it’s technically Winston’s turn, but I’m coming with you,” he said, his smile flashing in the light of the stove.

Before Charlotte could protest, he had left the galley, and she grabbed her own skis and dashed out after him, Marjorie at her heel.

“Why leave the warmth when you don’t have to?” she asked, slightly out of breath after running up the companionway steps, her breath clouding in the frigid night air. The rigging was lit by the moonlight and looked ghostly, limned with frost.

“I’m being nosy about your piece of paper.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes and followed him down the ramp onto the ice, throwing her skis down and doing up the bindings. The cold bit at her nose.

“And what if I don’t want to tell you about the piece of paper? Or what if it’s nothing but a grocery list?” She didn’t mind telling him what it was, but it was fun to be coy.

Arnold snorted. “Where would you be buying groceries out here?”

“It was an example,” she said, then smiled, an idea coming to her. “I’ll tell you what the paper is if you tell me a secret of your own.” She had been curious since he’d won the vote for ‘person most likely to have a secret’.

“Hmm. Deal,” he said, thrusting out a gloved hand to shake, which Charlotte took, gripping tightly.

They began the circuit around the ship, checking the pressure ridges, which were growing to be more of a concern with each passing day. In fact, the Intrepid had sprung multiple leaks. Happily, the Valour was faring better.

The full moon lit their way, and the wind howled, whipping the top layer of snow off the ice and into flurries that sparkled in the air.

“The paper is a list of phrases that remind me I can be brave,” Charlotte said with a shrug.

“Such as?”

“Oh, all along the lines of valour in the face of fear, you know. Uplifting things I found written in Ernie’s journals. Do you think me silly, to need to remind myself of all that?”

“Not at all. It seems a good idea to me.” He nudged her with his elbow and smiled, a dimple showing. “Thank you for telling me.”

She gazed up at the thousands of stars that hung in the night sky and paused, her hand shooting out to catch Arnold’s arm. “Look,” she breathed.

Above them, green and blue ribbons of light danced, twisting and jerking one way and then the other, the glow of it ethereal. She could hardly believe it was happening, and her face broke into a smile so wide her cheeks hurt.

“The Southern Lights!” Arnold drew a camera out of his bag. “I’ll get one of you with them, stand just there.”

Charlotte moved where he pointed. “Will you even be able to see me?”

“Your silhouette, yes. It’ll make a great photograph.”

“I shall hang it on my bedroom wall when we get home.” She looked up again, her heart so full she thought it might burst. The camera clicked. “It’s like looking into another world. Look, I can almost see a lighthouse there.”