The Ship by Honeywell Antonia

Author:Honeywell, Antonia [Honeywell, Antonia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780297871521
Publisher: Orion
Published: 2015-02-18T18:30:00+00:00

THIRTEEN

‘Time no longer’ Tom’s story Tom asks a question and ends the film

Tom and I proved that we were alive all over the ship. We found each other in our cabins, the sports hall, the laundry. Wherever I was, whatever I was doing, I found myself thinking of him, and all the energy I had once put into wondering and remembering went into him. I was confident that we were going somewhere, even if no one would tell me where; when we got there, there would be other work to do, and so the time I spent helping Patience to make sure that everyone had clean clothes and clean bed linen seemed important, because it was limited. Some days I was so busy I didn’t see Tom at all, which was why we went to the goodnight meetings. Even without clocks or watches, we could be sure of seeing each other there. When my father announced at a goodnight meeting that we had heard the last testimony and that we could now set ourselves free from the past altogether, we were looking at each other, and later we could not even remember whose the last testimony had been. When my father called triumphantly, ‘There shall be time no longer,’ I cheered along although I had no idea what he meant. We read the same books; we laughed at poor Garth, sitting staring out to sea, and at Emily, for whom a clean white plate was the most important thing in the world, and at Finn, who seemed to say, Yes, Michael, Yes Michael, more than he said anything else. We tried to find a way of spending the nights together, but my father watched everyone return to their cabins after the goodnight meetings and then turned out the lights. Tom’s cabin lay in one direction and mine in the other, and the nights were far too dark for roaming.

More than anything, I wanted to go back to the fourth deck. But the ship kept us too busy. Tom was wiping the walls again now as well as teaching football, and a girl on another laundry shift sprained her wrist so the piles of washing were bigger. I stayed until they were done. I didn’t exactly mind. Not being with Tom was almost as seductive as being with Tom, because the fact that I loved him created a secret place that had nothing to do with my father, nothing to do with the ship. I didn’t bother with the research room or the galleries, or even the cinema, anymore. I lost interest in food. The menu card would say confit of duck, creamed potatoes, petits pois, raspberries and ice-cream. Or casseroled chicken, sweetcorn, peach melba. Or beef and dumplings, green beans, sticky toffee pudding and custard. But whatever the card said, it all tasted the same and left a dull, metallic aftertaste. I played with the food on my plate, imagining myself with Tom. When I wasn’t working or making snatched

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