‘Don’t pretend,’ Letty snapped. ‘You’re all acting bizarre. You won’t touch your food, you’re mangling your lessons – I don’t think you’ve even touched your phrasebook, Ramy, which is funny because you’ve been saying for months that you bet you could imitate a better Chinese accent than Robin—’
‘We’re seasick,’ Victoire blurted. ‘All right? Not all of us grew up summering up and down the Mediterranean like you.’
‘And I suppose you were seasick in London, too?’ Letty asked archly.
‘No, just tired of your voice,’ Ramy said viciously.
Letty reeled.
Robin pushed his chair back and stood. ‘I need air.’
Victoire called after him, but he pretended not to hear. He felt guilty abandoning her and Ramy to Letty, for fleeing the catastrophic fallout, but he couldn’t bear to be at that table for another moment. He felt very hot and agitated, as if a thousand ants were crawling around under his clothes. If he didn’t get away, walk around, move, then he was sure he would explode.
Outside, it was cold and quickly turning dark. The deck was empty except for Professor Lovell, who was having a smoke by the prow. Robin almost turned back around when he saw him – they had not uttered a word to each other except for pleasantries since the morning after he’d been caught – but Professor Lovell had already seen him. He lowered his pipe and beckoned Robin to join him. Heart pounding, Robin approached.
‘I remember the last time you made this voyage.’ Professor Lovell nodded at the black, rolling waves. ‘You were so small.’
Robin didn’t know how to respond, so he merely stared at him, waiting for him to continue. To his great surprise, Professor Lovell reached out then and placed a hand on Robin’s shoulder. But the touch felt awkward, forced; the angles off, the pressure too heavy. They stood, strained and baffled, like two actors before a daguerreotype, holding their positions just until the light flashed.
‘I believe in fresh starts,’ said Professor Lovell. He seemed to have rehearsed these words; they came out as stilted and awkward as his touch. ‘What I mean to say, Robin, is that you’re very talented. We’d be sorry to lose you.’
‘Thank you,’ was all Robin said, for he still had no idea where this was going.
Professor Lovell cleared his throat, then waved his pipe around a bit before he spoke, as if coaxing his own words out of his chest. ‘Anyhow, what I really wish to say is – which I perhaps ought to have said before – I can understand if you were feeling... disappointed by me.’
Robin blinked. ‘Sir?’
‘I should have been more sympathetic to your situation.’ Professor Lovell glanced back out at the ocean. He seemed to have trouble looking Robin in the eye and speaking at the same time. ‘Growing up outside your country, leaving everything you knew behind, adapting to a new environment where I’m sure you received – well, less than the amount of care and affection you likely needed... Those were all things that affected Griffin as well, and I can’t say I’ve handled things better the second time. You are responsible for your own poor decisions, but I confess I do in part blame myself.’
He cleared his throat again. ‘I’d like for us to start anew. A clean slate for you, a renewed commitment on my part to be a better guardian. We’ll pretend the past few days never happened. We’ll put the Hermes Society, and Griffin, behind us. We’ll think only of the future, and all the glorious and brilliant things you will achieve at Babel. Is that fair?’
Robin was momentarily struck dumb. To be honest, this was not a very large concession. Professor Lovell had only apologized for being, occasionally, somewhat distant. He hadn’t apologized for refusing to claim Robin as a son. He hadn’t apologized for letting his mother die.
Still, he’d made a greater acknowledgment of Robin’s feelings than he’d ever done, and for the first time since they’d boarded the Merope, Robin felt that he could breathe.
‘Yes, sir,’ Robin murmured, for there was nothing else to say.
‘Very good, then.’ Professor Lovell patted him on the shoulder, a gesture so awkward that Robin cringed, and headed past him for the stairs. ‘Good night.’
Robin turned back to the waves. He took another breath and closed his eyes, trying to imagine how he might feel if he really could erase the past week. He’d be exhilarated, wouldn’t he? He’d be gazing over the horizon, hurtling into the future he’d been training for. And what an exciting future – a successful Canton trip, a gruelling fourth year, and then graduation into a post at the Foreign Office or a fellowship in the tower. Repeat voyages to Canton, Macau, and Peking. A long and glorious career translating on behalf of the Crown. There were so very few qualified Sinologists in England. He could be so many firsts. He could chart so much territory.
Shouldn’t he want it? Shouldn’t that thrill him?
He could still have it. That was what Professor Lovell had been trying to tell him – that history was malleable, that all that mattered were decisions of the present. That they could bury Griffin and the Hermes Society into the recesses of the untouched past – he wouldn’t even need to betray them, simply ignore them – just like they’d buried everything else they’d agreed was better left unmentioned.
Robin opened his eyes, stared out over the rolling waves until he lost focus, until he was staring at nothing at all, and tried to convince himself that if he was not happy, he was at least content.
It was a week into the voyage before Robin, Ramy, and Victoire had a private moment to themselves. Halfway through their morning stroll, Letty went back below deck, claiming an upset stomach. Victoire offered half-heartedly to go with her, but Letty waved her off – she was still annoyed with them all, and clearly wanted to be alone.
‘All right.’ Victoire stepped closer to Robin and Ramy as soon as Letty had gone, closing off the gap made by her absence so that the three of them stood tight, an impenetrable silo against the wind. ‘What in God’s name—’
They all started talking at once.
‘Why didn’t—’
‘Do you think Lovell—’
‘When did you first—’