The Wreck of the Zanzibar Read Free

against him. I knew then that it was all because of Joseph Hannibal. It’s as if he’s split us apart. Billy thinks that everything about him is wonderful, that he’s doing what a proper man should. He won’t hear a word against him.
    This afternoon Billy and Father had their expected set-to about Molly. Father roared and of course Billy shouted back at him. He wasn’t going to stay and be a cowman all his life, he had better things to be doing. I’ve never seen Billy like it. The angrier he became, the more he seemed to grow. Nose to nose in the kitchen he was as big as Father. Father said he’d strap him if he didn’t hold his tongue and Billy just stared at him and said nothing, his eyes like steel. Mother came between them and Billy stormed out. I followed him.
    We went to Rushy Bay where we always go to talk when we don’t want anyone else to hear. We sat on the sand together, and that was when he told me. He’d been talking to Joseph Hannibal. Joseph Hannibal had asked the skipper of the General Lee and the skipper had agreed: Billy could join the ship as cabin boy.
    â€˜I’m going, Laura,’ Billy said. ‘I was thinking about it all last night. And not just because of Father, either. It’s a big world out there and I’m going to see it. This could be my only chance.’
    And I could see that he meant it, that I couldn’t argue him round. I tried all the same. I begged him to stay. I even said I’d go with him. He shook his head and looked away. I know Billy so well, better than he knows me, I think. Once he’s made up his mind there’s no stopping him. I knew it was hopeless.
    He put his arm around me and told me he was sorry, that I’d be all right. He’d write to me, and when he comes back he’s going to bring me lots of things from America, from China, from the frozen North. When I cried he hugged me very tight and said he’d go now, just as he was. He didn’t want to have to go home again.
    â€˜You’ll tell Mother?’ he said. ‘You’ll say goodbye for me?’
    I walked in silence with him down past the church to the quay. We saw Father paring a hedge up in the field where Molly had died. Billy looked at him and said nothing. He was close to tears. He turned away.
    â€˜And say goodbye to Granny May too,’ he said. From the quayside we looked across at St Mary’s. We could see the masts of the General Lee.
    â€˜She’s a fine ship,’ he said. ‘A fast ship. She’ll take me all over the world, Joseph Hannibal said.’
    He smoothed my hair and told me to go home without looking back. I cried all the way home, not so much because Billy was gone and I might never see him again, but because he didn’t want me to go with him.
    This evening, from the top of Samson Hill, I watched the General Lee sail out past St Agnes. Billy was right. She was a fine ship. I knew he’d be looking back at Bryher and he knew I’d be up on Samson Hill. I could feel his eyes on me. I shivered, not from cold, but because I knew then as I know now, that I’ll never see Billy again. Her sails were red in the last of the sun, as red as any blood.
    I said nothing till just before supper, when Mother asked where Billy was. I told her as gently as I knew how. She sat down and her eyes were suddenly empty of life.
    â€˜No,’ she whispered. And that was all.
    Father was working late in the boathouse. He came in a few minutes ago. I was sitting on the stairswhen she told him.
    â€˜You drove him away,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘You shouldn’t have. You shouldn’t have.’
    â€˜He’ll be back,’ said Father. ‘You’ll see.’
    Mother turned away from him. She didn’t believe him, and neither do I.

JULY 21ST
    MY HOUSE IS NOT MY HOME ANY MORE. IT’S A place I live in. My island is a prison and I am quite alone. Mother and Father are