Tamar by Deborah Challinor Read Free Book Online Page B

ye?’ John said nothing and remained on deck in the cold wind for some time, staring moodily into the dark sea.
    Thinking back to this conversation with Myrna, John reached across the table, picked up Tamar’s hand and looked searchingly into her wide, green eyes. The moment was somewhat spoiled by the ship lurching violently and sending his half-full mug of tea into his lap. ‘Bugger,’ he said.
    Tamar laughed. John’s stomach flipped at her lovely smile and warm, bright eyes. ‘Tamar,’ he said, ignoring the hot tea soaking into his trousers. ‘I need to tell you something.’
    Tamar’s smile remained but inside she flinched, resisting a childish urge to put her fingers in her ears. She was not prepared for, and did not want to hear, what John was about to say.
    ‘You are aware of how much I think of you, aren’t you?’ he asked in a whisper, leaning forward so his words could not be heard by curious ears.
    Tamar swallowed, choosing her words carefully. ‘I know you like me, and you like to spend time with me,’ she whispered back.
    ‘Oh, it’s more than that, Tamar. Much more. No, look at me,’ he continued as she averted her eyes, blushing hotly in the dim light of the oil lamp. ‘I know you’re young and have plans, but I have hopes that one day you might think of me as more than a friend. I know you would like to marry, that you don’t want to be alone, and, well, I can wait. You do want a husband and children, don’t you?’
    Tamar looked up miserably and blurted, ‘Yes, but I want a husband I’m in love with!’
    ‘And you can’t love me, is that it?’
    Beginning to cry now, Tamar replied, ‘I don’t know, John. I don’t know what I can or can’t do. I need you as a friend, can we please leave it at that for now?’ She sniffed inelegantly, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

    John sighed and sat back, running his hand through his receding hair then rubbing his temples wearily.
    ‘Well,’ he said eventually, ‘if that’s all you want for the moment, then yes, of course, if you can’t accept anything else right now. I will always be your friend. But how I feel about you will never change, whatever happens.’
    Embarrassed and feeling awkward, he stood and walked away, leaving Tamar to gaze sightlessly at the worn table top, a tear running slowly down her cheek.
    ‘Never mind, luv. You’ll work it out,’ said a woman’s disembodied voice from behind her, and a wrinkled but clean handkerchief was pressed gently into her hand.
     
    The next day it became clear John Adams had spoken too soon about several things. He apologised to Tamar and said that although he had meant every word, he had not intended to upset her. Tamar accepted his apology and reiterated, as kindly as she could, that she hoped their friendship could continue.
    She was flattered by his attentions and sincerely fond of him but, for her, the compelling attraction she so hoped for was missing. She had no doubt she could have a contented life if she became his wife, but she wanted more; she wanted passion and romance, she wanted to experience the love her mam and da had shared.
    As it turned out, any thoughts of passion were swept away when the first case of food poisoning was reported. By the time John had examined the patient, a child from steerage lying doubled up on her bunk, clutching her stomach, half a dozen others had fallen ill.
    By the end of the day, severe diarrhoea and vomiting had struck almost all the steerage passengers and John had traced the source to a cask of spoiled pork. Fortunately, cabin passengers had not been affected, as they only ate fresh meat butchered on board.

    Tamar, who had been avoiding meat, was again prevailed upon to help. To make matters worse, the outbreak of food poisoning coincided with their passage into the Roaring Forties, the vicious, prevailing westerly winds ever present between the latitudes of forty and fifty degrees south, and the task of helping the sick was made more