The Custom of the Trade

by Shaun Lewis

  ‘It’s true, sir. But I don’t see what difference it makes.’

  ‘Too fucking right, Mister. My last First Lieutenant was the son of an admiral and I still broke him. It’s time you pampered gentlemen realised that you’re better off in cruisers or battleships than in a real man’s world. Are ye no’ drinking?’

  ‘No, sir. I don’t.’

  ‘Then give it to me you lick-spittle. I’ll not waste it.’ Mullan downed the contents of the glass in one. ‘You don’t like me much, do you, Miller?’

  ‘I respect you, sir, as is only proper for one’s commanding officer.’

  ‘Hah. That’s a mess-deck lawyer’s answer. I’d have expected better from you, Miller. Do ye know what I think of yous?’

  ‘I think you have made that very plain already, sir.’

  ‘You’re a sensitive bugger then. I know ye don’t like me, ye snooty bastard. Ye think I’m coarse because I drink and swear. Hang on a minute.’ Mullan raised his right leg and broke wind loudly, several times. ‘Aye and I fart, too. Yer soft and spoiled, Miller. I’m no Johnson.’

  ‘That’s very true, sir.’

  ‘Fuck yous, smarty-pants. I’ll tell ye why yer last boat sank. We all know why. Johnson was soft and he let ye run a slack boat. If you’d been doin’ yer job properly, you’d never have let him make such a monumental fuck-up.’

  Richard rose to his feet. ‘I resent that remark, sir. Lieutenant Johnson was a fine officer and is not here to defend himself. He ran a very happy boat and was hugely respected by his men.’

  ‘Aye and many of whom are now dead thanks to his or yer incompetence. Listen to me ye arrogant bastard. I was serving in this man’s navy when you were still sucking yer ma’s tits. I don’t give a fuck that ye don’t like me. In fact it suits me jes fine. But I’ll no’ let ye take me down. You won’t catch me out. Do we understand each other, sonny?’

  ‘Perfectly, sir.’

  Mullan nodded and closed his eyes. After a minute or two’s absence of the usual abuse, Richard began to wonder whether Mullan might have fallen asleep. He was still standing and wondered about retiring to the depot ship. He took a step backwards, but Mullan stirred.

  ‘Are we ready for sea?’

  ‘We are, sir.’

  ‘Then fuck off inboard and leave me in peace.’ Mullan poured himself another glass of whiskey.

  Richard needed no second invitation.

  Chapter 10

  The ship’s company of B3 were in good spirits. It was exactly four weeks to Christmas and they and the boat were destined to be back in Gosport before then for maintenance and Christmas leave. The exercises in the Solent and off Portland were now complete and B3 was alongside in Torquay for some deserved rest and recreation. Strangely, Richard, too, was feeling cheerful. Since their conversation on the eve of their departure from Gosport, Mullan had been much less mendacious and had handled B3 well during the last exercise. He had even given Richard leave to go ashore briefly in response to the message that had awaited B3’s arrival in Torquay that morning.

  Richard had no difficulty in finding the Torbay Hotel, just a few minutes away from the quayside. Similarly, it had been easy to spot the writer of the surprise note that he had been given on arrival in Torquay. Looking across the salon de thé, Richard noted his quarry seated by a window. Despite it being the end of November, weak sunshine filtered through the window panes and lit up his cousin Elizabeth’s face. He stood there for a moment admiring the view. It reminded him of something Millais might have painted. Her golden hair shone in the sunbeam and perfectly illuminated the pale skin of her face. It was a vision of loveliness that was immediately broken by Elizabeth noticing his arrival and waving to him.

  Walking between the tables of the other hotel guests, Richard suddenly became quite self-conscious. Several of those he passed wrinkled their noses or put hands over them, expressing looks of disgust. Richard realised that he was the object of their disgust. He was still dressed in his seagoing clothes, although he had taken the time to shave and wear a proper uniform.

  ‘Dearest Dick.’ Elizabeth rose to meet him and extended her arms to embrace him. As he bent forward to kiss and hug her, she immediately recoiled six inches before accepting a kiss on the cheek.

  ‘I’m sorry about the smell, Lizzy, but I came as soon as I received your note.’ Richard looked round at the nearby guests apologetically. He noticed a waiter heading for him.

  ‘Oh, no, Lizzy. I think I’m about to be ejected from the premises.’

  ‘Over my dead body, Dick. You’re my guest.’

  Richard noted Elizabeth’s cheeks colour and her eyes sparkle. He recognised the signs. She was steeling herself for a fight.

  The waiter approached them and spoke quietly, almost confidentially. ‘Excuse me, sir. Madam, I wonder whether you might prefer to entertain your guest in the library. The fire is lit and it would be most comfortable. I’m afraid, sir, that not all our residents understand the privations of life within His Majesty’s submarines.’

  Richard was relieved to see Elizabeth shrink by about two inches and moved aside to allow her to pass. He smiled apologetically at the other guests, who seemed equally relieved to see his departure.

  Richard enjoyed both the tea and the warmth of the fire on such a chilly day, but he could tell that Elizabeth was nervous. After some social chat about family, he decided to bring the conversation to its crux.

  ‘Lizzy, this is a most pleasant surprise, but I have to be back onboard soon. We’re hosting a cocktail party this evening for the Mayor and a few other guests and I must oversee the preparations. What brings you here at such short notice?’

  ‘Short notice, fiddlesticks, Dick. You told me last month you were making this visit to Torquay and you said I would be welcome onboard at any time. Are you not pleased to see me?’

  ‘Of course I am, but I’ll be seeing you at Christmas anyway, and Torquay is a long way from London.’

  ‘Yes, well, I needed to be out of London for a little while and I needed a rest. What better place to come than Devon?’

  ‘Not coming up to December, old girl. Come on. What’s up? Have you fallen out with someone or is it something to do with your suffrage project?’

  ‘Darling Dick. You are so direct. I fear you spend too much time in male company. All right then, since you asked. Have you read the by-election result?’

  ‘Which by-election result, Lizzy?’

  ‘Dick, where have you been these past few weeks? The Moon? The Bow and Bromley by-election, of course.’

  ‘As your nose has already borne testimony, old girl, I have been at sea most of the month. Now you mention it, I do recall that a by-election was held a couple of days ago. What of it? It’s a solid Labour seat as far as I recall.’

  ‘Not any more it isn’t. Your blessed Conservatives won it.’

  ‘They are not my Conservatives. I just vote for their candidates, along with the rest of our family. But now I remember. There was a Labour candidate standing on a platform of woman’s suffrage. That explains your need for a break. No doubt you have been hard at work on the campaign these past few weeks. But why leave London?’

  ‘Yes, I was campaigning and the result was a huge disappointment, but …- Dick, something terrible is about to happen. Swear to me that you’ll not breathe a word of it, but I have to tell someone.’

  ‘Steady on, Lizzy. I don’t like the sound of this. What have you been up to?’

  ‘Nothing. Well, nothing serious. But first swear to keep my secret.’

  ‘All right then, I swear it.’

  ‘Swear by Almighty God to say nothing of what I am about to tell you, Dick.’

  ‘Really, Lizzy. You do try a man’s patience sometimes. Very well. I swear by the Father Almighty, the Lord Jesus Christ and the Virgin Mary that I will not reveal to another soul any detail of the information that Miss Elizabeth Francis Roxanna Miller is about to impart to me. Is that good enough?’

  ‘Now who’s being perve
rse?’

  ‘Look, Lizzy. I really have to get back to my boat. The CO’s been unusually lenient with me as it is and I don’t want to push my luck. If there’s something you want to tell me, then that’s fine, but do get on with it.’

  ‘Dick, I’m going to have to ask Aunt Johanna to give you some guidance on small talk with the opposite sex. Wait -,’ Richard had started to stand up to leave, ‘- I’m worried that the WSPU is becoming too militant and I’m too deeply involved.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Up to now I’ve only been involved with smashing windows and splashing paint on politicians’ property.’

  ‘Only? For goodness’ sake, Lizzy, that’s criminal damage.’

  ‘Not really. We’re careful to ensure that we frequent the shops we damage, to give them our trade, and occasionally I’ve gone back and paid the damage out of my own pocket. As for the politicians, they deserve it. Anyway, a few months ago I was in Paris with Christabel Pankhurst -…’

  ‘So she’s in Paris. That’s why the police can’t find her.’

  ‘Dick, stop interrupting. You are so behind the times. Don’t you ever read the newspapers? Actually, she’s now in Boulogne and her whereabouts have not been a secret since September, when she invited reporters from the Daily Sketch to run a piece on her. Anyhow, she has since moved to Boulogne. Don’t you dare interrupt!’ Richard raised his hands in submission.

  ‘In the summer she asked me to burn down Nottingham Castle, but I refused.’

  ‘Oh my Lord, Lizzy. I’ve heard it all. You make it sound as if it were a mere favour. Are you all mad? What on earth gave her that idea?’

  ‘I’m not too sure. Something that pig, Sir Charles Hobhouse, had said. The point is that now Lansbury’s lost his seat, she and her mother have embarked upon a plan to set fire to pillar boxes.’

  ‘Compared with Nottingham Castle, it sounds rather tame. What was your objection, apart from the fact that it’s illegal, dangerous and a hare-brained idea, dear cousin?’

  ‘It’s going too far. Attacks on politicians are fair game, but this is an attack on the public. As well as dropping incendiaries into pillar boxes to set light to the mail inside, they’ve recruited a London University scientist to devise parcels that will burst into flames when opened. I’m worried that innocent people may get hurt.’

  ‘Lizzy, this is outrageous. You have to go to the police.’

  ‘No, Dick, I can’t. I’ve already had one scrape with the Law and they won’t believe I’m not involved. They’ll arrest me for conspiracy. In any case it’s too late. The campaign will have started by now. That’s why I had to leave London. By visiting you I will be clear of suspicion.’

  Richard was silent for a short while. He was shocked by the news of the means the suffragettes were considering to achieve their end, but he understood their frustration, too, and considered that the Establishment was overreacting to their antics. Secretly he admired his cousin for her commitment and pluck. Lizzy was not like any other girl he had ever known. He thought himself fortunate to have met many intelligent women, several of them good-looking and witty, too, but Lizzy was special. She was independent, passionate about the things in which she believed and fiercely determined to get her way. At twenty-four, she wasn’t many years younger than him and, as they had grown up together, they had become very close friends. Indeed, their friendship was stronger than that. He regarded her as the sister he would have liked to have had and loved her in the same way. In fact, some members of the family had considered their friendship as rather unhealthy. His cheeks burned with embarrassment at the memory of the scolding they had both received as infants, when they had been discovered skinny-dipping together one summer’s day. It had taken him years to discover the reason behind the upset.

  ‘Don’t flash up at me, Dick. I can see you’re getting angry with me.’ Elizabeth must have misunderstood his emotions.

  ‘No, I’m not angry, Lizzy,’ he replied gently. ‘Just disappointed. I thought you had come to see me. I now feel as if I’m just another part of your suffragette cause. I’m just your alibi.’

  Tears started rolling down Elizabeth’s cheeks and she gripped both his hands with her own.

  ‘Don’t think that, Dick. I promise you that I would never use you. It is I who feels used, by Christabel. I feel as if the scales have been lifted from my eyes. I could have gone home, but I came here, to see you. I needed a friend. Somebody I could talk to. I needed you, Dick.’ Elizabeth was by now sobbing without restraint.

  Richard’s heart melted. He had never seen Elizabeth cry before. She was too strong for that. He rose and, pulling her up to him, embraced her tightly.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Lizzy. I didn’t mean it. I beg you to forgive me. It’s just … I was so pleased to see you. You will forgive me, won’t you?’

  He kissed her gently on the cheek and she turned to look up at him. He looked into her bright-blue eyes, reddened and dulled by tears, but still sparkling.

  Elizabeth laid a finger on his lips. ‘Hush. There’s nothing to forgive.’

  Richard’s emotions overcame him. Without thinking, he kissed her passionately on her lips. Elizabeth gripped him tightly by the shoulders and responded equally passionately. Richard’s only thought was that a dam had burst and he felt a hitherto latent love surge through him. After what he thought one joyful eternity, it was Elizabeth who broke off the kiss. Holding him gently by both ears she said, ‘Dick darling. I do love you. Dearly. I’ve probably loved you all my life, but really! You do stink like nothing I have ever known.’

  Chapter 11

  The news of continuing problems in the Balkans and the likely declaration of independence by Albania from the Ottoman Empire seemed of little concern to the officers at breakfast in the wardroom of HMS Venus today. HMS Venus, formerly an Eclipse-class protected cruiser, was more usually the depot ship for destroyers, but today, the twenty-ninth of November, she was lying in Torquay harbour with the submarines B3 and A7 tied abaft her starboard beam. Devoid of sleeping accommodation, cooking and sanitation facilities, fresh water and the means to generate their own power in harbour when deployed from their home bases, the submarines were dependent on these ‘mother ships’. The depot ship’s officers and their submarine guests were intently interested in the domestic news today. The morning newspapers were full of reports of GPO pillar boxes being set alight by incendiary devices. It was rumoured that the suffragette women were to blame.

  Richard sat eating his meal in silence as many of his comrades berated these dastardly acts of violence by the so-called fairer sex, whilst a minority sympathised with their cause. He squirmed inwardly with guilt for his cousin Elizabeth’s involvement in the movement, but felt relieved that she was not to blame for these attacks. Careful study of his Bible had done nothing to assuage his feelings of guilt about the demonstration of his passion for Elizabeth, though. Leviticus had eased his conscience a little in that relations between first cousins was not explicitly mentioned as being forbidden. Even so, he still wondered if he and Elizabeth were committing a sin. As soon as he could get ashore again he would have to visit a church to make his confession.

  However, until this afternoon, his duty to God would have to take second place to that of the First Lieutenant in B3. At the cocktail party on board Venus the night before, he had rashly agreed to offer the Mayor and his lady a tour of B3 after their lunch with the Captain of Venus. First he would have to lend a hand in ensuring the boat was scrubbed thoroughly from stem to stern. At least Mullan would be out of his hair, since he had announced his intention to spend the day ashore.

  He thought again about Lizzy. She had come to the cocktail party, looking radiant. His duties as a host officer had given him little opportunity to spend time in her company, but he had been immensely proud of her. She had completely enthralled his brother officers with her dazzling beauty, poise, wit and charm. Even Mullan had spoken well of her, although not without some lewd remarks, of course. Richard could not wait t
o see her again. She was due at 14.00, in time to join the mayoral party’s tour of B3, and they would afterwards spend the afternoon together.

  He wondered again at her choice of words in the hotel. She had said that she loved him. Until that moment he had not realised that he loved her, too, more than cousins or even siblings could feel for each other, and he could not live happily without her. He could no longer bear her absence. It was perhaps as well that he had several hours of cleaning and scrubbing ahead of him to keep his mind free of such thoughts.

  *

  It was unfortunate that Mullan decided it was his place to host the mayoral visit. Richard could tell from experience that he had been drinking, but to the casual observer it would not have been as obvious. He displayed no unsteadiness on his feet or slurring of his words, but one could smell alcohol on his breath and his eyes had a far-away look. It was equally unfortunate that the Lady Mayoress was extremely corpulent. It had required some effort on her part to fit through the forward hatch. At one point Richard had thought that she might have to remain behind on the casing, but some coaxing from her husband and the effects of gravity had been enough to guide her down the narrow entrance to B3’s interior.

  The touring party was kept small, owing to the confined nature of the boat, and comprised only the Mayor, his Lady, two councillors and Elizabeth. However, Elizabeth had engaged in a technical conversation with ERA Thompson in the engine room and separated herself from the others. B3’s visitors seemed more interested in the torpedo compartment. The Lady Mayoress and councillors seemed aghast by the conditions on board, despite the crew’s best endeavours to clean the boat, but the Mayor was genuinely interested in his tour.

  ‘So you only carry two torpedo tubes then, Captain?’ the Mayor asked.

  ‘That’s right, sir, but the more modern submarines are being built with a stern tube as well.’

  ‘And how many men do you have onboard at sea?’