(1962) The Hostile Shore by Douglas Reeman

Author:Douglas Reeman [Reeman, Douglas]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General, Fiction, Historical Fiction
ISBN: 9780099078807
Google: nqxaAAAACAAJ
Amazon: B0041H0W24
Publisher: Random House UK
Published: 1962-06-14T23:00:00+00:00

George Myers groaned and rolled over on to his side, his naked stomach gleaming with sweat. He blinked vaguely around the cabin and licked his lips, tasting the stale, humid air which covered his limbs like a cloak. Muffled by the teak planking overhead, he could hear Tarrou's voice crying angrily, and the answering calls of the seamen. He swallowed hard, the taste of the beer still in his throat. It seemed darker in the small cabin, and he peered at the waterproof watch on his plump wrist. He sat up in slow, unsteady movements, his smooth 'face creasing into a tight frown. It was then that he noticed the schooner was more lively than it had been at lunch-time. And as his sleep-deadened brain began to clear, the protesting shipboard noises crowded in on him. He paused with his buttocks perched on the sharp side of the bunk, his body sagging like that of a pig, his mouth hanging open.

The cabin floor tilted and he felt his body beginning to slide off the deep mattress, but as he put out his hands to steady himself the whole ship seemed to pull itself up short, in one violent shudder. He opened the cabin door and listened, his toes gripping the worn carpet as if to give him additional leverage against the schooner's uneasy motion. A gust of warm air swept over his sweating shoulders so that he shivered, and he heard the squeak and groan of timbers, mingled with the persistent thrumming of the taut rigging.

The weather was getting worse, he decided. He began to swear with steady concentration as he tugged on his trousers and groped on the untidy bunk for his shirt. As he swayed and lurched about the cabin he thought of Tarrou's face when he had burst in on him earlier in the day. It must have been shortly after Gillian Bligh had left in the dinghy, although he had dropped off in a quiet snooze, only to be rudely awakened by Tarrou shaking his arm and shouting incoherently, his dark face distorted with anxiety.

`She's gone! Left ship!' he had shouted, all the time jerking at Myers' arm. `She had no right to go without permission!' There were tears of rage in his wild eyes. 'Vic tell me to see that she stays here, with me!' He had banged at his chest, as if astounded that anyone could defy his authority.

Myers smiled bleakly as he remembered his own reply. `She told me she was goin',' he had said irritably. 'Wot else d'you expect, eh?'

Tarrou had dashed back on deck without another word, but his face had been a picture. Gone was his aloof calm and unbearable assurance. He had seemed to Myers like a man possessed.

In order to avoid him at mealtimes, Myers had retreated to the cabin, with some tinned fruit and several cans of Australian beer. It was late in the afternoon according to his watch, but it was much darker than he had

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