Page 111 of Atlas: The Story of Pa Salt
Ever yours,
Elle xx
(Go and live your life, as I must live mine.)
I felt numb. Nothing seemed real. The note implied that Elle hadchosennot to get on the boat. She hadchosento leave me. ‘No,’ I whispered. ‘It can’t be...’ My mind racedthrough the events of the last twenty-four hours. It had all seemed so perfect...
Without warning, my legs failed me and I collapsed to the floor. I expected tears, but none came. My body did not possess the power to produce them. At that moment, my inner light was extinguished.
‘’Scuse me, mista. You doin’ all right down there?’ I looked up to see a bright-eyed, painfully thin young girl with sallow skin and lank brown hair. She could have been no more than fifteen years old. ‘’Ello, mista? Oh, bloody hell, he looks a bit peaky. Eddie, go and get someone in a bleedin’ uniform, would yer?’ A young boy beside her, aged perhaps five or so, ran off. ‘’Scuse me, could someone help, please? This bloke’s taken a bit of a tumble. ’Ello? Can you ’ear me?’ The girl knelt down beside me.
‘You shouldn’t be on deck, you filthy toerag,’ came a deep, plummy voice from above. ‘You should be down below in ratbag class.’
‘Yeah, sorry, mista, we was only coming up to ’ave a look at England for the last time. But this man’s a bit poorly. Can you help?’ the cockney girl replied.
The plummy-voiced man looked irritated. ‘Get a steward. It’s what they’re paid for,’ he sneered, before strolling nonchalantly away.
The girl threw her hands up. ‘Right, thanks for nothin’. ’Ello, mista,’ she said to me, producing an enormous grin and revealing a yellowing set of teeth. ‘Don’t worry, Eddie’s gone to fetch someone.’
‘I don’t, I can’t...’ I vaguely remember mumbling.
The young girl took my hand, and began to shake it vigorously, I think in an attempt to revive me. ‘It’s all right, mista. What’s your name? I’m Sarah.’
‘Sarah...’ I stumbled.
She nodded at me. ‘That’s right, mista. Feel a bit overwhelmed, do yer? Me too. But it’ll be good in Australia. It’ll be nice and ’ot and they say we can go swimming in the sea every day.’
I looked into Sarah’s brown eyes. ‘Elle,’ I managed. ‘Elle...’
She looked perplexed. ‘Elle?’ Sarah frowned. ‘Who’s that then?’
I groaned. ‘She’s gone, she’s gone.’
Sarah looked around. ‘Gone? Gone where, mista?’
‘Gone away...’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Oh blimey, he’s gone loopy. You’ll be all right, mista. Look, ’ere’s a bloke who knows what to do.’ A uniformed steward approached from across the deck. As he got closer, I noticed the annoyed look on his face.
‘What are you doing up here?’ he hissed at Sarah.
She laughed indignantly. ‘We wanted to say ta-ra to England. Never mind about that, though, this poor bloke needs some ’elp!’
The steward knelt down beside me. ‘I’ll deal with it. Now take the boy here and get back downstairs. You know you’re not supposed to be up here. We’ll have complaints.’
Sarah sighed. ‘Yeah, all right. Come on, Eddie.’ The little boy gave me a small wave, and I did my best to reciprocate. ‘’Ope you feel better, mista,’ said Sarah. ‘See you in Australia.’ She took Eddie by the hand and led him away. Before she disappeared from view, I saw her run to the edge of the deck and lift the little boy up so he could see over the side. Then she waved her spare arm. ‘GOODBYE, ENGLAND!’ she cried. ‘Give ’er a wave, Eddie!’
‘Downstairs!’ the steward barked. The children obeyed. ‘I’m terribly sorry about that, sir, it won’t happen again.’
I was beginning to recover my senses. ‘No, I must thank her... Who is she?’
The steward rolled his eyes. ‘They’re orphans. There’s about a hundred of them down in third class. They’re being shipped out from England to find new families in Australia.’
‘Orphans?’
‘Yes, and I’m sorry, sir, I will ensure they don’t bother you again.’
I was becoming frustrated by this man’s attitude. ‘No, I—’
