Page 112 of A Castaway in Cornwall
“I am all right,” she insisted.
“I don’t know that you are. But there’s no turning back now. Lord willing, we’ll arrive in Jersey sometime tomorrow.”
He rose. “I’ll be right back.” After a brief conversation with the skipper, Alexander returned. “Come, the captain says you may rest in his cabin.”
She put her hand in his, and he pulled her to her feet.
“Are you sure it’s all right?” she asked.
He took her elbow and led her to the hatch. “Yes, and I will be within calling distance if you need anything.”
“Rest does sound heavenly, I own.”
Helping her below deck, he led her to a small compartment with a bunk and side table.
There, he again kissed her brow and turned to go. “Rest, Laura. You’ve almost made it.”
Alex gently woke her sometime later. “Laura? Time to wake up. I see the château in the distance. We’ll soon reach Jersey.”
“Oh?” She pushed up on her elbows. “That was fast.”
“You slept through it all. It’s the next day.”
She stared at him in alarm. “No.”
“Yes. I knew you were exhausted but not quite how much.”
“The captain must be vexed.”
“He got a few hours in the first mate’s bunk. It’s he who’s vexed, but better him than the captain.”
She handed him her purse. “Make recompense however you think best.”
“If you’d like.”
A few minutes later, they climbed on deck and stood at the rail, watching the island loom closer. Soon they passed a large fortified castle perched on an islet in the bay.
“What’s that?” Laura asked.
“Château Elizabeth, a military fortress.”
They continued into the busy harbour. Laura saw tall ships in the broad bay and many buildings along the curved waterfront and rising up the green hills of St. Helier beyond. Alexander pointed out several shipyards huddled on shore and Fort Regent standing guard over it all.
Laura stood transfixed, staring at the island of Jersey for the first time—the place her parents had died. Had it looked the same when they arrived? Ten long years had passed. She hoped she could find someone who still remembered them, who could tell her about their final days or at least show her where they were buried.
Mamma ... Papa ... I am here at last. And I miss you still.
The ship dropped anchor and lowered one of the boats.
“The tide is high,” Alex said to the master. “Will you not approach the quay directly?”
The man shook his head. “Don’t like getting too close to the authorities, you know. We’ll let you out and be on our way, that lot none the wiser.”
“Don’t you sail here regularly?”
“Yes, but we usually land at a less heavily guarded port. We are only here for you.”
“And we thank you.” Alex pressed coins into the hands of the captain and first mate, then returned to the rail.
