The Grace Stories Read online

  ‘Mama, Mama, what’s wrong?’ Hannah leaned closer, but there was no answer. ‘Mama?’ Hannah shook her mother’s arm. ‘Mama, Mama? Are you all right? Mama! Say something!’

  Liza struggled to lift her head. ‘Don’t you worry, my girl – it’s just a touch of sore stomach. The marine warned me – he said the Easterlies will make the seas rough and the weather will be cold and wet – but it won’t last forever. Soon the weather will change, you’ll see.’ Liza lay her head back down as if the words she had spoken had cost her all her energy.

  Grace knew Liza’s illness had nothing to do with the Easterlies and she could tell by the fear in Hannah’s face that she knew it, too. Liza had dysentery – the same illness that had killed Jenny.

  ‘What do we do? I don’t know what to do!’ Hannah looked to Grace and burst into tears.

  Grace climbed down from the berth and waded through the filthy water over to the bulkhead. She hammered on the hatch. When there was no answer, she hammered harder. ‘Help!’ she called. ‘Help!’

  Finally, the guard’s face appeared around the door. ‘No room,’ he said. And slammed it shut again.

  Grace was so used to Liza being there for everybody that she hadn’t ever imagined that Liza might get sick, too. Grace’s own mother had been very sick – so sick she had died and left Grace all alone in the world. Grace looked at Hannah hunched over her mother as she slept. I mustn’t let the same thing happen to my friend, Grace thought.

  THE next day Liza was worse. She had severe diarrhoea, was vomiting and had a high fever. When she used the privy bucket she passed blood.

  ‘Oh, Grace! She doesn’t eat or drink or speak and she is so hot I’m afraid she will burst into flames. I can’t bear it.’ Hannah sobbed into her hands.

  Grace looked around for help, but no one had the strength to even try. She couldn’t even find Liza an empty bucket in which to be sick.

  ‘We need to get her into the hospital, Hannah. Where she can be properly cared for by the surgeon.’ But Hannah just cried and cried.

  Grace knew that it was up to her to help Liza. But I’m so small, smaller than everyone else down here – what can I possibly do? she wondered. Thinking about being small gave Grace an idea. Once again she lowered herself into the filthy bilge water and, pushing her way past the women huddled in the aisles, waded to the bulkhead that separated the prison from the hospital. These days the guard only opened the small door if one of the women had recovered enough to be brought back into the prison. Sometimes a whole day could pass without the door opening at all.

  Grace hunched in the darkness at the foot of the bulkhead and waited for the guard. She waited hour after hour. The ship rocked and women called out in pain, surrounded by darkness and damp and the stench of sickness. All the while, she said over and over to herself, ‘Please come soon, please come soon, please come soon,’ as if the guard might hear her plea.

  Finally, when Grace’s body was stiff from staying crouched for so long, she heard, above the creaking of the ship, another sound. It was the clanging of the heavy key being turned in the lock on the other side of the bulkhead. The guard! The guard is opening the door, at last! She was ready for what she had to do next. Every nerve was tingling.

  The guard pulled open the narrow door to let one of the prisoners out. In that instant Grace pushed her way through on her hands and knees, past his legs. Then she jumped up and began to run down the dimly lit corridor. There was another door at the other end and she knew that behind it was the hospital.

  But the guard was just behind her. ‘Stop!’ he shouted. ‘Where do you think you’re going? Stop right where you are!’

  Just as his heavy hand clamped down on the back of her neck, the door she had been running towards opened and a man stepped out. The man didn’t look like a guard. He was not wearing a red coat or carrying a gun across his shoulder. He wore glasses on his nose, and his face, though he was not old, was lined with concern. Grace recognised him as Mr Evans, the surgeon who had inspected all the prisoners before they had come on board the ship.

  ‘What’s happening here?’ he asked, surprised.

  Grace’s heart hammered, her mouth was dry, her body trembling – she knew this was her only chance to save Liza, but it was never easy for Grace to speak to people.

  She took a deep breath – when she spoke her voice sounded very small.

  ‘Oh, sir, Liza Hamm is sick, sir. If she isn’t taken into the hospital I’m afraid she’ll die!’

  ‘I am sorry, Mr Evans,’ stammered the guard, pulling Grace away. ‘Little trollop slipped past my feet – I’ll make sure she’s punished.’

  ‘Wait just a minute,’ Mr Evans said to the guard. Grace felt as though her heart might stop and never start again. Mr Evans turned to Grace. ‘Did you say Liza Hamm, the ship’s matron?’

  Grace nodded. ‘Yes, sir. She’s been working with the sick, but now she’s taken ill herself and if she isn’t looked after she’ll die, sir. She’ll die!’

  Mr Evans pushed his glasses up his nose. ‘I thought she must be taking rest. I’ll find a berth for her in here immediately. Without her help many more lives might have been lost.’ He turned to the guard. ‘Return this child to the prison and bring back Liza Hamm immediately.’

  The guard muttered under his breath, pushing Grace back up the narrow corridor to the prison door. He unlocked it and shoved her through. ‘Bring the sick prisoner – and be quick about it.’

  Grace stumbled into the dark chaos of the prison, pushing her way through. Hannah was bent over her mother, holding a damp rag to her forehead.

  ‘Quickly, Hannah. Help me! If we hurry, we can get your mama into hospital, but the guard might not wait long. I’ll explain later. Hannah, please!’

  Together Grace and Hannah pulled Liza from her berth. She collapsed against them as they dragged her towards the bulkhead. Grace could smell the sickness coming from Liza’s fevered body. She knocked as hard as she could against the heavy wood but nothing happened. Was Mr Evans playing a trick on me? she wondered, frightened. Will the guard still be there?

  But the guard had not left. He pushed open the door and Mr Evans, who had been waiting with him, took Liza from Hannah and Grace.

  ‘I will do my best to help your mother,’ Mr Evans said. He nodded at Grace as though she had done something important and necessary. Then the door was closed, and Grace and Hannah were thrust back into the darkness.

  AS suddenly as the seas had grown rough, the weather changed again and grew calm. All Hannah and Grace could do was wait and hope that Liza would recover. Grace could tell how worried Hannah was. She didn’t want to play any games, and she didn’t laugh and tease and joke the way she usually did. Instead she would ask Grace many times a day, ‘Will Mama be all right, Grace, do you think? Will she be back soon? How much longer, do you think?’ Grace always told her that it wouldn’t be long.

  Finally, ten days later, Liza was returned to the prison hold. When she saw her mother, Hannah threw her arms around her so hard she almost knocked her over.

  ‘Mama!’

  ‘Hannah, my girl, be careful or you shall send me flying.’

  Hannah kissed her mother’s cheek. ‘Oh, Mama, you’re back! But you’re so thin! And where is the colour in your cheeks?’ Liza smiled as she hugged her daughter, but Grace noticed how frail and weak she was.

  ‘Grace, how are you, dear girl?’ she said. ‘Has Hannah been sending you mad while I’ve been gone?’ Liza turned back to Hannah. ‘Grace saved my life, Hannah. You are very lucky to have a friend like her.’ Liza squeezed Grace’s hand and Grace could have cried with relief.

  Liza was still very weak, and Grace and Hannah both knew how close they had come to losing her. Most of the women were out of the hospital. Sally was so thin you could see her bones, though the sickness hadn’t taken the fight out of her, and she was still trying to make trouble. Anne May, who usually talked to everyone, was quiet and withdrawn. For now, the dysentery had passed. Only Jenny
had died, but her empty berth was a reminder of how quickly the illness could take a life. However, conditions had improved, the ship sailed smoothly and it had begun to grow hotter. The skuttles were open and fresh air had swept away the foul smells of the hold.

  One evening, Liza sat with Hannah in front of her, braiding her daughter’s hair while Grace watched beside them. First Liza had to pick out the lice, before dragging her fingers through Hannah’s knots, so that her hair could be properly combed and plaited. Every so often Hannah would yelp when Liza’s fingers caught in a tangle. Grace wondered how it would feel to have your mother’s hands braiding your hair.

  ‘Mama, do you know how long until we reach Sydney Cove?’ Hannah tried to turn her head round to speak to Liza.

  ‘How many times have you asked me that now, Han? It will be at least two months yet – keep your head still, child, or I’ll never get through these tangles. We only make one stop and that’s about halfway – Rio de Janeiro. We can’t be far away from there now.’

  ‘Why must we make a stop, Mama? Why can’t we just go all the way there in one go?’ asked Hannah. ‘Ouch, you’re pulling!’

  ‘Don’t you want fresh food and water, Han? Do you like drinking that stinking rotten slop from the Thames? Perhaps, since you don’t want to stop, you won’t be wanting your share of the fresh food . . .’ Liza teased. ‘They’ll be loading even more onto the ship in Rio.’

  ‘More convicts?’ Grace asked. She looked around at the crowded hold. ‘How will they fit any more of us in?’

  ‘Not more convicts. Animals to fill the farms in the colony,’ Liza answered. ‘Sheep and cows and pigs.’

  ‘And they will all be sleeping in your berth, Grace.’ Hannah giggled as her mother pushed her up from the place in front of her.

  ‘Your turn, Grace. You are even more tangled than my Hannah!’

  Grace hadn’t expected that Liza would do her hair, too, but Liza patted the space at her feet and waited for Grace to sit. She felt shy. Would Liza find her hair too knotted and dirty to touch? Even though Grace had scrubbed and scrubbed with carbolic soap, she sometimes felt she would never be able to wash the mud of the Thames from her hair.

  Liza didn’t seem to notice. She simply went to work pulling out the knots as she had done for her own daughter. Grace closed her eyes, leaned up against Liza’s knees and felt the rhythm of Liza’s hands through her hair. She didn’t complain the way Hannah had when Liza pulled at the tangles. As Liza’s hands moved back and forth, sometimes touching her forehead, her ears, sometimes her neck, Grace forgot to be afraid of the future. For now she had Liza and Hannah, and unless they wanted to swim away in the ocean, they were stuck with her for a while yet. Grace wondered how long such luck could last, and what would happen when they arrived in the new land.

  As they neared the halfway point of the voyage, Grace thought she had never felt such heat in her life. At night, no draught came through the barred hatch and now the ship hardly moved because there was no wind. Grace and Hannah stood on the deck on either side of Liza – the three of them held onto the railing and looked out at the horizon.

  ‘I swear I will never board a ship again after this. I will stay put with land beneath my feet, I promise you!’ Liza laughed.

  Grace filled her chest with the warm, still air. ‘How can the air be warm and wet at the same time, like steam?’ she said. ‘We must be very far away from home if even the air is different.’

  The next morning it was even hotter below decks and their water ration was putrid and warm. Hannah and Grace played a game called What If.

  ‘What if we never taste clean water again?’ asked Hannah, moaning.

  ‘Then I will turn the seawater into lemonade with a magic spell,’ said Grace, ‘and you can drink that!’

  They grinned at each other – this was their favourite game.

  Outside the ship there was a lot of noise and clanking, and they could hear men shouting in a language they didn’t understand. ‘We must be here,’ said Hannah. ‘Finally!’

  Liza explained to everyone that Rio De Janeiro was in a country called the Americas. ‘We’ll be here for the next week or so,’ she said. ‘But while the ship’s anchored, none of us are allowed up on deck at all.’

  ‘Even if they let us out with our chains back on, it would be better than being stuck down here,’ Nance Tucking said. ‘Do they think the heat has turned us mad and we’ll all leap into the ocean to cool down?’

  ‘Maybe I will!’ said Sally. ‘Drowning would be better than this.’

  ‘At least it would kill the fleas that live under my dress.’ Hannah scratched at her arms and laughed.

  Sally glowered at her. ‘I don’t see anything to laugh at.’

  ‘Didn’t you know?’ said Hannah. ‘I have been training those fleas to do handstands. You all must buy your ticket and come and see tonight’s show!’

  Early the next day, when the women were expecting their usual breakfast ration of a half-bowl of pease soup, the guards called Liza over to the hatch to help distribute something very different.

  ‘Fresh bloomin’ fruit!’ exclaimed Sally. ‘Thought I’d never see the day!’ She held up a melon. ‘What are we supposed to do with this thing?’

  Anne May rolled one across the floor. Even she didn’t know what it was for. ‘You could use it as a milking stool,’ she laughed.

  ‘Here, let me try it out,’ said Nance Tucking.

  ‘Your bottom is bigger than the melon,’ said Sally.

  ‘Oh, leave off, Sal!’ Nance said as she sat back. She hit the boards as the melon split beneath her backside, spilling the melon flesh across the floor. The women howled with laughter, before scrabbling for the pink fruit.

  When Grace bit into the melon, the cool pink flesh stuck on her cheeks and chin and the juice dribbled down her neck, but she didn’t care. The melon was the most beautiful thing she had ever tasted.

  ‘I never want to eat anything but pink melon,’ she said to Hannah, but her friend was distracted by a rough orange fruit with a crown of green spikes.

  ‘It’s a prickly orange face with green hair,’ Hannah said, turning it around in her hands.

  ‘It’s called a pineapple,’ Liza said. ‘They say you can eat it.’

  ‘Can we even eat the hair, Mama?’ Hannah asked.

  ‘Eat hair? Don’t be bloomin’ stupid!’ Sally snapped.

  ‘Since when did we ever eat hair, child? We might be shipped off to the end of the world, but I won’t stoop to eating green hair!’ Liza and Hannah laughed, and as Grace watched how their eyes shone in the same way and listened to their matching laughter, her heart missed a beat.

  The prisoners were also given vegetables and meat, and by the time the Indispensable was ready to leave Rio, all the casks were full of fresh water. The hold had been washed clean of the stinking bilge water and all the bedding was dry. On the day the ship left port, the women sang and cheered, they were so relieved to be moving forward once more.

  Over the next month of sailing, they spent most days on deck. In Rio, the ship had been supplied with cotton, needles, fabric and thread, and the women sewed dresses and bonnets and pinafores in the sunshine. Grace found it difficult to make her stitches neat – she had never used her fingers for such delicate work, and her hems looked messy and uneven.

  ‘Here, Grace, make each stitch exactly where you finished the last one,’ said Hannah, ‘then the dress won’t look like you sewed it with your teeth.’

  Grace tried, but she only managed to prick her finger.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Hannah, ‘you’ll soon learn.’

  ‘Ouch!’ Grace watched as Hannah pulled a strand of hair from her head. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked.

  ‘You do the same,’ said Hannah. ‘Then give it to me.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Grace.

  ‘You’ll see,’ answered Hannah.

  Grace had grown used to Hannah’s games, so she pulled a strand of hair from her head and gave it to he
r friend. She watched as Hannah twisted the strands of hair together so that they made a single piece.

  Hannah leaned over the rail. ‘Are you ready?’ she asked Grace.

  ‘Ready for what?’

  ‘You’ll see. Come and stand here next to me,’ said Hannah.

  Grace did as her friend asked, and stood beside her. Hannah lifted the twisted hair high into the air. ‘Sisters forever,’ she called out. ‘Now you say it, Grace!’

  ‘Sisters forever!’ shouted Grace.

  ‘Sisters forever!’ shouted Hannah and Grace together as their hair blew over the ocean.

  ‘WILL this journey ever end?’ Hannah sighed, staring out at the horizon. Grace no longer knew how long they had been at sea. The days ran into each other so that she couldn’t tell one from another. But a part of her wanted to stay sailing on the Indispensable forever just to be close to Hannah and Liza.

  Today, the sea was sparkling and the sun shone. A fresh breeze blew the hair from Grace’s face. Liza came up behind them and put an arm around each of them. ‘Look out there, girls. Can you see what I see?’

  Grace gazed at the horizon and saw a long dark rise interrupting the straight line in the distance. Land!

  ‘Liza, is it Sydney Cove?’

  ‘Is it, Mama?’

  ‘It is, my girls. We are almost there.’

  Grace could see how happy Liza and Hannah were. I don’t want to lose them, she thought, feeling the comfort of Liza’s arm around her.

  Several days later, when they were below deck for the night, Grace could feel that the Indispensable had anchored; the ship was calm and steady. They had finally arrived. She sensed the excitement among the prisoners – in a few more days they would be off the ship and on solid land.

  ‘The first thing I will do is kiss the ground,’ said Sally. ‘I will get down on my hands and bloomin’ knees and kiss it.’

  ‘That’s not all you’re planning on kissing, I bet,’ laughed Nance Tucking.