Tales of Terror from the Black Ship by Chris Priestley

Author:Chris Priestley
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing

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George became aware of a curious sound he could not place at first. It was a hollow rattling and rumbling that seemed to emanate from the very bowels of the ship, and he wondered whether it had drifted towards hidden rocks.

But he soon realised that this was not the case. The sound was not coming from the hull but from the holds, and he saw, emerging from every hatch and hole, a million hungry snails creeping slowly, inexorably forward.

*

Cathy’s face was even paler than before. I am sure I was in no better condition. I had always had an aversion to shellfish of any kind, quickening my step past the whelk and cockle stalls in the market, repelled by both their smell and appearance; it was a revulsion I feared this story would only compound.

‘Were you never tempted to go to sea, Ethan?’ said Thackeray, sitting back, and running his fingers through his raven hair. ‘Being as how you lived so close to her shores all your life and how these rooms have been filled with mariners and their tales, did you never want to venture forth and see what lies beyond that horizon?’

‘No,’ I lied. For how could I have gone to sea, leaving my father to cope alone and Cathy to deal with his drinking? What right had I to choose that path?

Thackeray nodded and smiled a sad smile that seemed to say that he guessed my thoughts, and though it was a sympathetic smile I still resented it.

‘Maybe it is for the best,’ he said. ‘For the oceans are well stocked with dangers of every species and it is an act of blessed fortune to see through a natural life.’

‘It was not cowardice that stopped me, if that’s what you think.’

‘Oh, do shut up, Ethan,’ said Cathy.

‘Now then.’ Thackery held up his hands to pacify me. ‘Don’t get yourself so riled. I did not mean to suggest anything of the sort. There are many kinds of bravery. It takes as much courage to bring a child into the world as it does to cross swords or sail into the teeth of a storm – more, maybe. I can see you are no coward, Ethan. No offence meant.’

‘None taken,’ I said after a pause. ‘Forgive me. I have my father’s temper.’

‘Ah yes,’ said Thackeray. ‘Your father. There is still no sign of him.’

‘He will be here soon enough. Never fear.’

‘Of course.’ Thackeray drained his glass.

‘You seem mightily interested in my father’s whereabouts,’ I said, despite Cathy’s shushing.

Thackeray smiled.

‘I have no interest in your father, I assure you,’ he said. ‘Besides, he might not be so welcoming as you and your fair sister. He has a temper, you say?’

‘No more than most men,’ I lied.

‘But what about the cat?’ said Thackeray with a mock puzzled expression. ‘I thought he almost killed it.’

‘Oh, but he was drunk,’ said Cathy by way of explanation and then clamped her hand over her mouth, realising that she had said too much.

‘Cathy!’ I said, louder and more roughly than I’d meant.

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