Remember Me - Lesley Pearse [52]
‘I wonder when we’ll go ashore,’ Bessie said longingly.
‘I hope it’s soon,’ Mary sighed. ‘It’s far too hot for Charlotte down here.’
It was over a week later that the women left the ships. They were allowed up on deck during that time as the men put up tents, cut trees and built store-sheds and a saw-mill, but they were told they had to stay on board until there was more order ashore.
Excitement grew with each day. It reminded Mary keenly of the sense of expectation before May Day back home. Women who had other clothes stored got them out and went through them to find something more fetching to wear, but most of them, like Mary, had arrived on the Charlotte with only the clothes they stood up in.
A new generosity bloomed, however, and ribbons, pieces of lace and small trinkets were offered to others who had nothing. They helped one another wash and curl their hair, and those who could sew were eager to assist those who couldn’t.
They could hear the women on the Lady Penryn engaged in much the same way. Their laughter and ribald comments wafted across to the Charlotte, and the rigging was festooned with drying clothes in every colour of the rainbow.
Although Mary felt every bit as excited as the other women, she was nervous too. Just a glance across to the Lady Penryn was to know that all those London women were going to be more worldly than her, and undoubtedly more attractive. On board the Charlotte she had a sort of distinction, admired for her ability to speak up for the women and her sense of fair play, and for being a mother. Her friendship with Will would almost certainly protect her from any harm amongst his large group of friends. She was also respected by most of the officers and Marines. She’d even gained the trust of their wives and children.
But on shore she would have to start all over again. She would need to be on her guard all the time. She was afraid that Mary Haydon and Catherine Fryer might seek to malign her to anyone who would listen, and enjoy seeing her humiliated. Officers from other ships wouldn’t give her the trust and freedom she’d grown used to. She would be just a very small fish in a big pond, with no one to protect her and Charlotte.
On Sunday, 3 February a church service was held for the men by the Reverend Richard Johnson, under the shade of a big tree. Like all the women, Mary watched from the ship’s deck, a little awed to see around 700 men, prisoners, officers, Marines and sailors gathered together in prayer. Will stood taller and broader than most of the men, his fair hair bleached almost white in the sun. Jamie Cox stood next to him, so small he looked like a child compared to Will.
A mop of red hair in the crowd made Mary look more intently and to her surprise she saw it was Samuel Bird. Looking again, she saw James Martin beside him, his stooped shoulders and big nose unmistakable.
She was thrilled, for it was almost like seeing family members again, and she had to assume they’d been put on one of the other transport ships, maybe even separated from Will purposely to prevent them from inciting any kind of rebellion together.
Tench stood with the other officers, his hat tucked under his arm, and just the distance between prisoners and officers was a further reminder to Mary that the friendship between herself and Tench was unlikely to continue now the voyage was over.
Three days later the women went ashore. The excitement had been building up gradually over the last week, and as they were rowed to shore, Mary felt as giddy and giggly as her companions. It was wonderful to see everyone so happy, after the hardships on the voyage, with flushed cheeks and bright eyes, just like a bunch of bridesmaids at a wedding party.
For Mary, the prospect of walking on dry land again, to be rid of the smell of slop buckets, and to escape the nightly menace of rats was enough to start her heart pounding. But she was aware that for the other women it was mostly the men waiting on the shore that had them fired