Storm and Silence (Storm and Silence #1) - Robert Thier Page 0,351

of those ridiculous army trousers and into a skirt! Right now, Mr Linton!’

This didn’t do anything to detract from my confusion.

‘You want me to put on a skirt, Sir?’

‘Are you deaf? Yes. A skirt, a dress, a hat and all the rest of it. All those things that make a girl actually look like one, and not some cheap imitation of a man!’

Slowly, anger started rising up inside me. I had wanted to spend my last few minutes of life in peace and quiet, and here he was, insulting me, trying to get me to do the very thing he had forbidden me from doing for weeks now. And for what? Because I wasn’t worthy to die in a man’s shoes and trousers?

‘Well,’ I snapped, ‘you’ll have to do without the entertainment of a charade, I’m afraid. I’m not playing dress-up for you! Lord, we’re about to die! What is going on in that sick head of yours?’

‘I told you to strip, Mr Linton! Strip and put on women’s clothes! This is an order!’

‘Do not call me Mister! And I do not care if it’s an order or an anchovy! I’m about to drown and don't have to do another word you say.’

He advanced towards me. His eyes were beyond wild now. They were dark pits of death, as dark as the sea that was about to swallow us up.

‘Put on girl’s clothes. Now!’

I stepped forward, too, facing him directly.

‘No! I will not. I would not, even if I had them - which I don’t.’

‘What?’

‘Use your head, if it hasn't turned to a block of stone yet! Where should I get girl’s clothes from? I didn’t take anything onto the ship with me. I only have the clothes on my back, nothing more!’

‘But…’ He looked around, frantic ice in his eyes. ‘You must have something! A dress, or a night shirt, or… anything!’

My hand hit him in the face with enough force to make him stumble back three steps.

‘You bastard!’ I shouted. ‘We’re about to die! Do you understand? Die! I don't care about what clothes I wear. I care about…’

I stopped.

What did I care about? I couldn’t really find the words for it. But as I gazed up into his deep, dark eyes, I thought I found at least one of those things in there.

‘You must have,’ he muttered, as if he hadn’t even registered the fact that I had slapped him. ‘You must have some girl’s clothes.’

‘No.’ For some reason, my voice was suddenly soft, hardly loud enough to be heard over the roar of the storm in the background. ‘Why do you care? They’re clothes, Sir, just clothes.’ Almost involuntarily, my hand reached up to clasp his trembling fingers. ‘It’s what’s underneath that matters.’

‘Not right now,’ he murmured, his voice more controlled again, but just as ferocious as before. ‘Don’t you see, Mr Linton? The captain said “women and children first”. Women.’

It took a moment for the penny to drop. I had gotten so used to my disguise, to pretending that I was a man, that I hadn’t even thought of the meaning of those words. Women first. I was a woman. I could get a place on one of the lifeboats.

I can survive this.

My eyes, which had reached out into the far distance, snapped back to Mr Ambrose.

But he can’t.

He seemed to read the thought on my face.

‘Mr Linton,’ he said, his voice colder than I had ever heard it, ‘you will be on one of those lifeboats. No discussion. This is an order.’

‘You can order as much as you want,’ I whispered. ‘I don't have any girl’s clothes. Nobody will believe I’m a woman.’

‘They will! I will make them believe!’

‘Why do you care anyway?’ My voice suddenly sounded hoarse. Was I catching a cold? Well, on the bright side, it wouldn’t really matter, because I would be dead soon. ‘Why do you care if I survive? If I drown, at least you’d be rid of me at last!’

He took a step closer. His dark eyes, burning with cold fire, didn’t leave mine for a second. ‘Maybe I don't want to be rid of you.’

I had to swallow. It was hard. ‘And maybe I don't want to leave you behind.’

He went rigid, as if suddenly paralysed by some hellish poison - or a heavenly one.

‘Mr Linton, I…’

Suddenly, the ship, hit by another wave, gave a violent lurch, and I was hurled forward, towards Mr Ambrose. His arms came up reflexively to catch me and, just as