Chapter 21: Eleven Names

Rhys's POV

The Seamen's Mission on Wharf Road smelled of floor polish and old tea.

They had set out folding chairs in a half circle under a banner that said *Safe Passage*.

On a table at the front stood eleven framed photographs of men in work shirts and borrowed suits.

I had never seen their faces.

Nine years, and I had only ever seen the names.

Forty or fifty people sat in the chairs, some in black, some in whatever they had worn to work.

A boy of about twelve sat next to a woman who held his hand.

Nobody stood when I came in.

I walked to the front alone, because I had asked Lena not to come.

The microphone was a plain stand with a cord.

I didn't touch it.

"My name is Rhys Vandeleur," I said. "I signed the order that sent the Mariner's Rest to sea."

My voice sounded small in the room.

"I was twenty-five years old. My father handed me a sailing order with a weather report stapled to it."

I made myself go on.

A woman near the door got up and left, and I let her go.

No one made a sound.

"The report was false. That is true, and I'm not here to use it. I should have read it. I didn't, and twelve men are dead."

A man in the second row crossed his arms.

"I want to say their names," I said. "If you'll let me."

I took the list from my pocket.

I read the first name, and the age beside it, and the town he was from.

The woman in the front row was small, with grey hair and a cardigan buttoned wrong.

She had her hands folded in her lap, and she hadn't taken her eyes off me since I came in.

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