The Grace Stories Read online

  Grace smiled at the idea. She’d never had flowers in her hair. Only knots and mud. She imagined Pegasus with yellow daisies woven through his mane. ‘Could we put them on Pegasus too?’

  ‘Of course. Pegasus would be covered in them. And we’d put pink roses in his tail. He’d smell like soap.’

  This time, Grace laughed. The sound of it was unfamiliar – she’d had so little practice. Does my laugh sound the same as other girls’? she worried.

  Hannah didn’t seem to notice. ‘I wish I could’ve met your Pegasus, Grace,’ she said, rolling onto her back. ‘The perfect horse for a princess.’

  Grace laughed again. It felt good.

  ‘What did you do, Hannah, to get transported?’ she asked.

  ‘Nothing. But Mama stole us two blankets from her mistress’s household. When she found out she would be transported she begged the judge to let me go with her and the judge took pity and said yes and that’s why I’m here. Otherwise I’d be on the streets with nobody. Mama says we were lucky to have a merciful judge. You’ll meet my mother soon. She’s been chosen by the guards as the matron so she has a lot of duties. Sometimes I help her. You can help too. She gives out the rations. We’re sailing soon, that’s what Mama said. She has a way of finding out things – you’ll see.’

  Grace rolled onto her back beside her new friend. Hannah locked her thumbs together and lifted her hands overhead, so that her hands made a bird with finger-wings. The bird fluttered over Grace’s head.

  ‘When we get to the new southern land we’ll sing songs on the street and I’ll do an acrobat show with tumbles and we’ll make jewellery with flowers and the officers’ wives will see our show and give my mother a pardon.’

  As Hannah spoke, Grace could almost see the flowers and jewellery. The new southern land. The way Hannah said it made it sound magical and exciting.

  What’s going to happen to us on the journey? Grace wondered. Will we make it all the way to the end of the world? And what will life be like in Sydney Cove? Even if there are no horses, she thought, Hannah will be there with me and that’s a start.

  The ship’s hull was darker than it had been in Grace’s prison cell, but the light between Hannah and Grace shone brightly enough for her to see the world in a new way.

  ‘MAMA told me we might be setting sail today,’ Hannah said excitedly, between mouthfuls of bread and butter. ‘Today we head for Sydney Cove on the open seas and become sailors!’

  Grace sat in the wooden sleeping berth next to Hannah and watched her friend make a telescope with her hands. Hannah’s chains knocked against each other as she held the telescope to her eye.

  ‘Do you think we will know when the ship begins to sail?’ Grace asked. It had been a week since she had seen the outside world and breathed fresh air – the ship was still anchored in the River Thames, being loaded with cargo for the six-month trip to Sydney Cove.

  Hannah picked up her cup and swallowed the last of her tea. ‘We will know we are on the open seas when the ship starts to rock because the waves will be so big. The guards will make us rush to one side of the hold so that the ship doesn’t tip over. If it does, we’ll go under.’

  ‘Tip over?’ Grace was startled.

  ‘Yes. It’s what ships do in storms. That’s why we will have to run from side to side to keep the whole thing upright.’

  ‘Don’t you listen to a thing that girl says, Grace,’ said Hannah’s mother, Liza, walking between the bunks, gathering up the dirty breakfast bowls. ‘She’ll have you believing that she herself is the ship’s captain and everyone must do as she says.’

  ‘Aye, aye, Captain Hannah!’ Grace said, saluting her friend, her chains clanking.

  In the berth opposite, Jenny Tankard, the oldest prisoner on board the ship, cackled, showing her toothless gums. ‘Listen to the little rascals! They’re busy planning to sail the seven seas and we’re heading for the bottom end of the blooming world! England is getting rid of its garbage so it don’t have to look at us no more.’

  ‘Oh, these two aren’t garbage,’ said Sally Major, who slept in the berth below Grace and Hannah. ‘These two are fine strong sailors steering the rest of us to the garbage heap.’ Other women in the berths around them laughed.

  Grace had grown used to the way the prisoners teased each other and picked fights, especially big Nance Tucking with shoulders as broad as a man’s. But Sally Major acted as if nobody could scare her, even though she wasn’t very much bigger than Grace. I wonder how old she is? thought Grace. She doesn’t look no more than fifteen.

  It didn’t help that the prisoners were crammed in so close to each other on the ship. They were forced to spend all their time on slatted beds set in two narrow rows, one on top of the other, like double bunks. It was always dark and the air was rank and stale. Grace wished she had room to walk about, or stretch out. For once I’m glad I’m small, she thought. At least I don’t hit my head on the beams overhead.

  But Grace didn’t really care about being locked in a ship’s hold with chains around her wrists and ankles and no fresh air to breathe or light to see by. Her new friend Hannah turned everything into a game, full of possibilities, and Grace could even ignore the stink of the privy, the lice that lived in her hair, and the rats that hurried between the berths if Hannah was by her side.

  The girls lay back. Grace was happy to hear they would soon be setting sail, but she was sad, too. I’ll never see England again, she thought. She turned to Hannah to tell her how she felt, but Hannah nodded before she could say a word. She understood. There was a lot Grace didn’t need to explain to Hannah.

  Then Grace felt the ship pitch forward. She grabbed her friend’s arm. ‘The ship is moving. It’s moving!’

  Hannah was silent for a moment. The ship continued to rock and pitch, and the hold filled with the murmurs and whispers of the other women as they realised what was happening.

  ‘Grace, we’re on our way!’

  Towards the end of that first day, the Indispensable began to rock up and down more roughly. The ship must have reached the open seas where the waves are bigger, Grace thought – just as her uncle had described it.

  Grace quickly grew used to the rocking of the ship. She liked to imagine she was on the back of a galloping horse. She already missed the horses in London – missed watching them gallop and trot and rear high in the air. She had loved to get close to them, look in their kind dark eyes, touch their smooth coats and take in their sweet scent. She thought of the day she rode Pegasus in London. That was when she was arrested – the worst and the best day of her life. She had re-lived those moments on Pegasus’s back, over and over, and each time it was as if she were there riding him again.

  Her daydream was interrupted by Hannah?– ‘Oooohhhh,’ she moaned and gripped her stomach. Grace saw that many of the other prisoners were doing the same or standing bent over the privy buckets in the narrow aisle. Grace could hear them vomiting. She was worried for her friend. ‘Are you all right, Hannah?’ she asked, sitting up.

  ‘Ooooh, I feel sick, Grace,’ said Hannah.

  Liza leaned over and stroked her daughter’s damp forehead. ‘You’re seasick, my girl. But don’t worry, you’ll get your sea legs before you know it. Grace, you’re lucky, you seem fit as a fiddle.’

  ‘I am!’ said Grace, surprised. ‘It’s all right, Hannah,’ she said, holding her friend’s hand as the Indispensable pitched from side to side. ‘I’m sure your sea legs will be here soon.’

  In the afternoon, a guard opened the hatch and called for the ‘matron’, which meant Liza. She had been chosen to be responsible for making sure they all behaved, telling them the rules, and handing out food and water rations, seeing that every prisoner received their fair share. If it weren’t for Liza, Grace knew that she would be eating a lot less. On her very first day on board the ship, she had just received her meal of salted pork and bread when one of the women grabbed the meat from her hands.

  ‘You won’t be needing that, will you? Scraw
ny little thing like you! Better off in my belly than in yours!’

  In an instant Liza was standing there, hands on her hips. ‘You give that back to the child or I’ll make sure you never see another piece of meat on board this ship. Mark my words – I won’t be saying them twice!’

  The woman gritted her teeth and silently handed the pork back to Grace.

  Grace had been stunned. Nobody had ever cared whether she’d got her fair share before. She’d never had anyone to watch over her?– unless they wanted something in return.

  Liza pushed her way along the narrow space between the berths towards the open hatch to speak with the guard, then she shouted for everyone to pay attention.

  ‘All right, ladies,’ she said. ‘Our kind masters up above say that as the ship is no longer in sight of shore, we’re all allowed to go up on deck. But any bad behaviour and everyone will be sent under again. So do me proud, because I’m desperate for clean air.’

  Me too, thought Grace, clambering down from her berth.

  Sally Major shoved past, pushing Grace back against Hannah. ‘Out of my way, chavvies – I’ve got to get out of this stinking cage!’

  ‘Wait your turn, Sally,’ Liza warned. ‘You’ll be up there causing trouble for everyone soon enough.’

  ‘Stay away from Sally,’ Hannah whispered to Grace. ‘You never know what she’ll do.’

  Grace didn’t need to be told. She knew Sally was dangerous. I wonder if she’s ever had a best friend, or a mother, or someone to watch out for her, Grace thought.

  Two guards stood at the open hatch as the women climbed the ladder up onto the deck. Grace helped Hannah pull herself towards the square of light above, wondering what it would be like outside.

  ON deck, Grace shielded her eyes with her hands – many of the other women were doing the same.

  ‘Our eyes aren’t used to the light,’ said Jenny Tankard, guiding them carefully to the rail. ‘It’s as if the sun itself is sitting on the deck.’

  When at last Grace took away her hands, what she saw made her gasp – open space, never-ending sky and ocean. There was activity going on all around her; the Indispensable was noisy with the sound of men at work. Officers called orders to marines, seamen climbed the rigging and worked aloft, sentries stood on guard at their posts, and overhead the enormous white sails billowed in the wind. But even the striking of the ship’s bell could not take Grace’s attention from the sky and the sea.

  Beyond the busy sounds of the ship, Grace sensed a peaceful silence. Hannah reached out and held her hand. Neither of them spoke.

  Life on the streets of London was always noisy. There was never enough room and no privacy, but now, even though Grace was crowded in with lots of other people, they were surrounded by the wide open space of the sea. It made her feel as though she was expanding. She was sure that Hannah, standing so still beside her, felt the same way.

  ‘Stop gawking. Time to take your exercise,’ a guard called down from the upper deck. ‘Move!’

  The women started to shuffle in circles around the lower deck. Grace felt slow and unsteady. It had been two weeks since she had walked far at all, and she hoped it wouldn’t be long before she found her balance again. Hannah still looked pale and sickly.

  The lower and upper decks were separated by a high-pronged rail. Grace could see marines in red coats and men and women dressed in fine clothes on the upper deck. They walked up and down, the women sheltered beneath frilled parasols that they held in gloved hands. Two small children played, chasing each other around the ship’s mast. Their mother called to them in a voice as smooth as melted toffee: ‘Sarah, Harold, stop running this instant!’

  How good it must feel to run like those children, Grace thought. How I would like to join them, but that rail is meant to keep the likes of us away from the rich people – just like in England.

  As Grace walked, she felt her legs getting stronger with every step, and even though the ship continued to pitch and roll, she saw that the colour had come back to Hannah’s cheeks.

  Grace stared at the horizon. ‘Look out there,’ she whispered to Hannah, pointing to the ocean. ‘It’s so empty and flat. Everything back home is higgledy-piggledy and crowded in. Out here there’s nothing except that long straight line. It must be where the sea meets the sky!’ She breathed in deeply – the air tasted fresh and clean.

  ‘I feel better now, Grace,’ Hannah said. ‘I just need to keep my eyes on that line.’

  ‘You must be getting your sea legs,’ said Grace.

  Grace shivered in the wind – it was cold, and their thin dresses weren’t enough to keep them warm – but she didn’t mind. She liked feeling the wind against her skin, blowing away the filth of the hold below. Grace looked up at the pale grey sky. It looks different out here too, she thought – no fog or cinder smoke.

  After a little while a light rain began to fall. Grace saw a tall man talking to the marines and gesturing towards the women. He was dressed in a long blue coat hemmed in gold brocade, and Grace guessed he must be the ship’s captain. One of the guards shouted, ‘Time’s up! Everybody below deck!’

  ‘Already?’ Sally called. ‘Ladies, we want a bit longer, don’t we? Don’t we lovely ladies deserve a bit longer in the fresh air, your Highness?’

  ‘Quiet, Sally, or we won’t be allowed up here again,’ Liza hissed.

  ‘Leave it be, girly, you know the rules,’ said Jenny Tankard, pulling Sally by the arm.

  After the fresh air outside, the air below deck smelled foul and hurt Grace’s nose as she breathed. As she and Hannah walked along the narrow aisle between the berths, Grace heard Sally Major arguing with Jenny ahead of them.

  ‘I’ve had enough of this rat hole,’ she said, ‘and I don’t care for the flaming rules. What did the rules ever do for me?’

  ‘Nothing, dearie, but breaking them is going to get you into trouble,’ Jenny warned.

  Taking no notice, Sally turned around and pushed past the women, tripping over legs and chains as she stumbled towards the hatch. Hannah shrank against the bunks, pulling Grace with her. ‘Sally gives me a bad feeling,’ whispered Hannah, ‘as if she is going to make something terrible happen . . .’

  ‘Most likely to herself,’ whispered Grace.

  Sally climbed the small ladder and knocked loudly against the closed hatch.

  ‘Sally, stop that,’ Liza called. But Sally kept banging against the wood. The other women pressed against the sides of the ship, trying to ignore her.

  At last the hatch was hauled open. A guard stood at the top. ‘What’s going on down there? Is somebody sick?’

  When Sally Major saw the guard, she took a step up the ladder towards him and held onto the edge of the open hatch. ‘Might I come up there for a bit of air, sir? It’s awful stuffy down here. Wouldn’t you like a bit of female company?’

  ‘Get back down the ladder, you filthy buntel,’ the guard said, kicking at Sally’s fingers.

  ‘Don’t you call me names! Let me up for some air! Let me out! Let me out!’ Sally smacked at the guard’s legs as she cursed him. ‘Bleeding mongrel! Let me up!’

  Grace put her hands over her ears and hummed to herself to block out Sally’s screams.

  Another marine came and together they dragged Sally out of the hold and up on deck. Even with the hatch closed again and her ears covered, Grace could still hear Sally shouting and crying as she struggled with the men. No one spoke until Hannah asked, ‘Where will they put her?’

  ‘In the coalhole most likely,’ Anne May answered.

  ‘What’s that?’ asked Grace.

  ‘It’s the cellar in the ship’s bow that stores the coal. It’s not fit for a rat – so dark you can’t see your own hand in front of your face. The stories I’ve heard – you can sink into the coal and die in there from suffocation. It’s like drowning . . .’ said Anne May.

  Grace shivered – she didn’t want to think of Sally drowning in the coalhole.

  ‘That’s enough,’ said Liza.
‘Sally will be back in no time, and hopefully she’ll be a little wiser.’

  LATER that week, the women were brought up on deck again, this time early in the morning.

  A large bathing tub had been set in the centre of the deck. The women were ordered to wash. They clustered around the tub in their underclothes and took turns in pouring buckets of water over each other. Hannah filled a bucket and threw it over Grace’s head. Jenny Tankard screeched with laughter. ‘Well done, then. Go on, Grace get her back! If my old legs could run fast enough I’d do it myself!’

  ‘Oh!’ Grace shrieked – the water was icy cold. ‘I’ll get you, Hannah!’ she said, jumping up and down on the deck to warm herself up.

  ‘Try and catch me,’ Hannah called back, darting in and out of the other women, even though her legs were shackled. Grace filled her bucket and chased after Hannah, spilling water over the deck.

  ‘Quiet, girls,’ said Liza, trying not to smile. ‘You’ll have us all sent back down. And make sure you wash with that carbolic soap, or there’ll be onions growing behind those dirty ears of yours!’

  It felt good to scrub away the stench of the hull below, and any last traces of London. As Grace waited for the others to finish washing, she looked out at the line where the sea met the sky. If you got to that line, she thought, what would you see? Would you fall off the earth? Is that where the Indispensable is headed? Staring at the line made Grace realise that the world was bigger than she had ever imagined.

  After the women washed, they were sent back below deck for breakfast. This was the routine they would follow every day on the ship. When breakfast was finished, they brought their bedding up on deck to be aired and stowed.