Mama was rigid, her face pale. ‘But we have so little as it is.’
Papa bent low and whispered to her, ‘Johanne, we are not leaving the trunk here. Only delaying its passage.’ He looked up as Christian Pasche clasped him on the shoulder, face red.
‘Come with me to speak to the captain,’ he said. ‘We’ve a right to our belongings on arrival.’
Papa nodded. We watched them push through to the hatchway.
Mama closed her eyes for a long time. ‘They would make us leave even that.’ She pointed to the floor, to the trunks stowed in the hold under our feet.
Papa and Elder Pasche were not long. They returned, followed by several sailors who set to work opening the hold.
‘The twenty-five chests must be sent back,’ Papa said. ‘There is simply not enough room. We wanted to ask him if we could store some belongings on deck, but it is full too. There are sixty-five barrels for water alone. Hogsheads of vinegar, beer. It all must be stored in the open as the hold is already full.’
I thought of ropes breaking, barrels rolling in a storm, wood splintering.
‘But there is good news,’ Papa added. ‘Captain Olsen is not an unreasonable man. He has given his permission for us to store things in whatever sensible place we might find as well as on the hooks and under the berths.’ He rose from his seat. ‘Christian and I will spread the word. The twenty-five families with the greatest number of trunks below will have to send one back, but we may go through them first and remove things that we cannot do without. You may have your earthly belongings, Johanne.’
Silence fell below as many of the adults, anxious to part with as little as possible, sorted through the chests once more. As Papa would not be parted from his tools – ‘Or what will I build our house with?’ he asked as I pulled out his adze heads, already divorced from their handles to save room – it fell to Mama to decide what must be left behind. I took out items and presented them to her as she fed Hermine, waiting for her to nod or shake her head. Clothes. Pins. Some silverware.
‘This could be sent later,’ I said, taking out a bolt of black cloth. ‘What is it for, anyway?’
Mama passed Hermine to her other breast. ‘I bought it for you,’ she said, and gave me a sudden, warm smile.
‘For me?’
‘It is for your wedding dress.’
I snorted. ‘What?’
Mama said nothing. Her smile faded a little.
‘I’m only sixteen, Mama. It can be sent on later. If at all,’ I added under my breath.
‘You’ll be seventeen this year.’
‘Well, I won’t be getting married this year.’
‘I was sixteen when I married your father.’ She gave me a look with such an edge to it I felt like I’d been cut. ‘Put it under the mattress.’
I did as she said reluctantly, thinking that, if Mama was called away by Papa or one of the other women, I might have an opportunity to quickly pull the cloth back out and shove it into the chest that would be returning to the docks. The idea of sleeping on the material that would clothe me on my wedding day filled me with uneasiness.
But Mama did not shift from her seat, and the chest was nailed down by Papa before my eyes.
At dusk the captain sent word that we might be permitted to return to the upper deck. The hustle of the harbour had quieted, and stillness had fallen over the ships at dock and the buildings beyond the wharf. The sky in the west was the colour of a peach, and as I stood on the boards, breathing deeply, I thought I could hear the river beneath the ship pushing to the horizon, eager current running hopeful to the light.
The anxiety of unpacking and hastily fashioning living spaces in the ill-lit confines of steerage dissipated like vapour in the open air. A peace settled as we stood on the deck, so crowded with barrels that many of the men and boys had to clamber over them to find a place to stand for evening services. My eyes sought out Thea and, like a needle drawn ever north, I found her. As though my glance held the weight of touch, her eyes met mine. She smiled and I felt it pull through my spine like a thread.
The sky glowed as we prayed together on the deck. My father had asked to perform the service, and his voice was like a net cast out over us. It held us in the quiet.
‘We have not been led to this action by a desire to see a foreign part of the world, nor by the vain desire for riches, but it is belief in You alone, O God, and Your holy word that has made it necessary for us to take this step. And so lead us to a place in Your creation, where we can live and preach Your holy word in its truth and purity.’