Michael Dun - 6. Chapter 6

Dinner was a three-piece affair in a curtained section of the dining room. Michael and Charlie entered the huge room and stood still for a moment at the top of the staircase that led into the dining hall. Pink walls and low, slithered crystal chandeliers, lamps and embroidered table-clothes, imported china and the wealthiest of the wealthy, Michael could not tell the difference. The plates and cutlery advertised the ship’s initials, GB. Framed paintings of different liners graced the walls and a pianist played Mozart on a raised stage on the far side of the room. The bouquets were fresh.

Both mesmerized, they ignored Peter who had stood up from his table and come to meet them. He prodded Michael in the back and told them to follow him. They joined the group, and after a few moments found themselves relaxing.

Peter remarked they were sailing into summer and Mr. Atkinson, a fair-haired lad with a red-velvet bow tie, mentioned they were journeying into a territory few people would tolerate.

Peter continued, “Indeed, chapsies. Gold has been discovered along a certain high white ridge. President Paul Kruger rules the Transvaal and the Rand with an iron fist. We know he is respected on one side, but hated on another for he is in the process of opening the Witwatersrand reefs to speculators. The British had destroyed the power of the natives in earlier wars and Gladstone decided to give the Boers their independence. The Boers have created a hostile, young country. With this youth, comes instability and hostility towards anyone or any country that dares to appropriate what rightfully belongs to them. There is bound to be friction. Moreover, what we ought not to forget, chapsies, the Boers do not accept our way of life, at all. If we were to expose our true emotions and feelings, the ridicule could prove fatal.”

The meal was hearty and made amends for the cold. “Well, I am surprised, splendid, Mr. Sheffield?” Michael asked.

The dimple on Peter Sheffield’s left cheek was evident when he smiled and thanked Michael for the complement.

John Mansfield, a red haired young Scotsman with a rosy face and manicured hands, flicked a finger at the air and nodded slowly, raising a bottle of wine.

“I think this calls for a celebration. Wine anyone?” All accepted and he poured the wine slowly into each glass.

Peter continued his history lesson: “As I said, gold is the most valuable earthly resource. They have found gold in Australia and Russia but nothing compares with the Rand discovery. Money and lots of it will be made…”

Michael spoke, “You certainly do sound positive about finding gold in the Transvaal, Mr. Sheffield.”

Peter suddenly exclaimed, “Let us sign a business agreement between us. Partners, all of us!”

John Mansfield and Gordon Atkinson raised their glasses at once in agreement, and Michael pinched Charlie’s upper thigh to stop him from raising his glass. But, Michael was silent and the conversation faltered, silence wafted between them, and the smile on Peter Sheffield’s face disappeared. It was evident that Mr. Dun was not in agreement Michael knew how cunning Peter Sheffield could become when under pressure. He was a lawyer and the game he had played was simple: excite the audience with a statement and measure the reaction.

“What kind of business do you suggest we invest in, then, Mr. Sheffield?”

“Gold! The buying and selling of gold, Mr. Dun!”

Michael winced. He squinted at Charlie as if to say, “DO NOT TRUST THIS MAN!” The thing with Peter was if he had to cheat the system to get what he wanted, he would cheat the system. If he found a thousand pounds in a purse in a gentleman’s parlour...an Inn...anywhere, he would not turn it in to the proper authorities. If he witnessed an old lady falling in a square, he would do nothing to help her. His mouth was his weapon, not his fists.

Michael answered him at last. “I must see a business plan.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Michael repeated himself, making a poor attempt to smile. Peter, visibly embarrassed, told him there was no plan and should there be one, would he reconsider the invitation? “I shall write up a business plan which you shall see tomorrow, Michael. I am sure we will agree it will be worth your while.”

“We shall see, Mr. Sheffield. Not everyone who has a claim strikes it rich. Some persevere ignorantly.”

“Naturally, chapsy,” Peter blurted out, “the less money you invest, the less money you are likely to make. We are all fortune seekers here, every one of us, let us not deny our hunger for wealth. Those who invest a large sum will reap the rewards more quickly. Profit will be based on what you have invested.”

Michael’s smile was more of a half-hearted smirk because he knew Peter Sheffield was cunning and a liar. He stood up and excused himself, saying he would certainly consider the idea. “As I have mentioned, Peter, I shall need to see a business plan. And it had better be a damned good plan, at that, old chap.”

However, there was very little to think about, Michael knew that Peter Sheffield was not reliable, he had lived with him several years, shared a hostel room at college and managed to keep their relationship secret. Michael was at the crossroads of emotions far deeper than anything he had ever known. Charlie treated him with the respect and friendship he desired, but Charlie did not know Michael at all. Two different men whom Michael had chosen as companions for varying reasons. Charles was gentle and unassuming while Peter Sheffield was dubious, predictably so.

Mr. Atkinson coughed and stood up. “I shall be retiring, gentlemen. It was a pleasure meeting you both, I am sure we will meet again. Of-course I shall be pursuing this idea of a partnership. I believe we may prosper.”

“Good night, Mr. Atkinson.” Michael acknowledged then turned to Charlie. “We ought to be retiring early. I have much to write home about.”

Charlie and Michael wrapped their coats tightly about them and they returned to their cabin below. Michael’s balance in unstable conditions was undermined by the heavy sway of the vessel on the ocean, and he lurched forward, crashing into the rails. Charlie grabbed Michael’s hand and escorted him to their cabin below. The cabin was warm but Michael’s temper was warmer. It was clumsy of him to let go of the railing. And damned be Peter Sheffield! They had been friends once. Now, Michael had no desire to continue the journey with him. They had lived together five years and he had come to know Peter as a reliable fortune seeker. Garnets paid Michael a livable wage and Michael allowed Peter access to his budget. He was too blind to see that Peter was robbing him. Peter Sheffield would never have Michael’s trust again.

As an adult, Peter Sheffield needed to take his responsibilities to heart.

“Why do you hate him now?” Charlie asked.

“I know what he is capable of.”

“Do you trust me?” Charlie asked.

“We both should trust each other…unconditionally.”

“But…d’you trust me, Michael Dun?”

“Yes. Unconditionally.”

“I would trust you with my life.” Charles whispered.

But Charlie Manning was not happy. Refusing to do business with Peter could end in trouble. He implored Michael not to lie to Peter out of respect of their past friendship. Peter was hoping Michael would reconsider him as a friend. But if that is not to be, then Michael must tell him how he feels, or continue the journey and ignore him.

Charlie’s hard hands caressed the back of Michael’s neck in a warm embrace, then he lifted Michael’s head and came forward to kiss him. Their bond was stronger than any known to man, woman or child; they would allow themselves time with each other for they dare not speak nor demonstrate their love.

“He is not my friend, Charlie. Friends do not do what he did to me, to us.”

“You look at him as though the longing is still there.”

“Listen to yourself! I do not feel the least emotion for him. Ssshhhh,” Michael whispered, “For now we shall forget about him. Come to bed…”

Peter Sheffield is passionate about himself. He has aplomb, a quality which Michael finds attractive, but sadly does not possess. He is young and fresh to matters concerning men and material beauty with which they surround themselves.

They dine, sleep and bathe together, they attend the theatre and gala evenings and sometimes even dance together. Away from Laburnum, in the arms of a man whom he trusts , Michael Dun is happiest, and without complication.

- Come stay with me.

Peter Sheffield’s tongue is a little impaired for a moment. He is not sure whether Michael means it. He stares at him without blinking, without saying a word.

- Do you really mean that?

Michael explains that it should be an amicable arrangement based on sharing the financial burden of the flat. The rest depended on where Peter’s heart lay. Peter sank to his knees and took Michael’s hands.

-You know where my heart is, Michael Dun. I carry your heart beside me all the time.

Michael pulled Peter up, they embraced, and fell onto the bunk.