Felburgh

by Ivan B

  “Petty officer James.”

  “I’d like to speak to Anthony,” said Peter.

  “Sorry Captain Jamerson is busy, can I take a message?”

  Peter thought hard.

  “Tell him it’s a matter of national security.”

  “Is this a hoax?”

  “No hoax, I’ll hang on, you tell the captain.”

  Peter waited. Five minutes later Anthony’s voice came on the line.

  “Captain Jamerson.” He sounded brusque and stern.

  “Hi Anthony, its Peter, Peter from the university rugby team.”

  “Peter?” he replied sounding very surprised. “Petty Officer said it was a matter of national security.”

  “It might be,” Peter said. “I need to get a message to the Admiralty and I don’t know how.”

  “Intriguing,” said Anthony, “and the message is?”

  “HMS Cedd might be in danger of being discovered.”

  “Do you know when she sank?”

  Peter smiled at the thought.

  “Some time just after World War Two. But she didn’t sink she was laid to rest.”

  “I’ll pass the message on,” he said. “But don’t hold your breath for a reply. Must go have some tricky maneuvering to do.”

  Peter sat back wondering if he would get a response.

  Peter got lost in paperwork and thinking about his Diocesan committee, just after eight he was disturbed by the doorbell. Peter opened it to find the tall figure of Anthony on his doorstep. Peter was so amazed he just stared.

  “I thought you were off steaming to the Med.”

  “So did I,” Anthony replied. “But twenty minutes after I phoned in your message all hell broke loose and I was told to get here as soon as possible using my ship’s helicopter as far as RAF Wattisham where there would be a car waiting for me.”

  “Come in and bring your driver.”

  Anthony made a sign to the car,

  “He’s not a driver; he’s my Chief Petty Officer.”

  Peter ushered them in.

  “Have you eaten?”

  “I have at Wattisham,” said Anthony. “But my CPO had to do some scrounging in the signals office at Wattisham.”

  The CPO said, “No sir, haven’t had the time.”

  Peter looked at the CPO, who had a remarkable craggy face; the sort you see carved into granite statues, “In the kitchen there are plenty of microwave meals in the freezer; help yourself to them and anything else you can find. But one word of warning; there is a lady in the house; if she appears in the kitchen just ignore her, she is painting a mural upstairs and her artistic temperament is such that she’s liable to try and brain you if you interrupt her train of thought. Oh, and the anchovy and custard mixture in the ‘fridge is hers.”

  The CPO didn’t bat an eyelid.

  “Aye aye, sir” he replied and disappeared into the kitchen.

  Peter took Anthony into the sitting room, as they walked Anthony nodded in the CPO’s direction.

  “Chap will want to investigate your phone lines later, OK?”

  Peter realized that this was a request, but almost given as an order.

  “OK.”

  They sat down. Anthony leaned forward.

  “Is this lady the only other person in the house?”

  “Yes, and she is profoundly deaf and totally unaware of the situation.”

  Anthony leaned back in his chair.

  “Now,” he said. “Exactly what is so important for the Admiralty to pull me off a cruiser headed for possible active service in the gulf? Whatever you’ve found, it has certainly put the wind up the top brass.”

  Peter wondered where to start and if he had been wise in contacting the Navy.

  “Under this house is a giant basement that is connected to an air-raid shelter by a short tunnel. You can get to this basement both from the house and the garage round the back. In the air raid shelter is a vertical shaft that leads to a long tunnel; one end of this I believe leads to a shaft under a redundant factory site. The other end leads to what I think was some sort of underground ammunition dump. I believe that this is vertically directly under my church.”

  Peter paused. Anthony didn’t move.

  “And?”

  “And in the crypt of our church is an army generator. The church is the highest building for miles and the army has some radio equipment in it. Last Sunday we had a power cut and the generator ran for four hours. There are now large cracks in the crypt floor. I suspect that if the generator runs again it will fall through the crypt floor and bingo the whole underground labyrinth will be open for inspection.”

  “This underground complex is HMS Cedd?”

  “There’s a plaque on the wall. One of my parishioners told me that it was used by your lot during the war, but the embargo on disclosure is not due to be lifted until 2045.”

  Anthony looked intently at Peter.

  “This parishioner; have they said anything else?”

  “No, and they are very old and feeble; I don’t want you pestering them.”

  “Fair enough. Can I take a look?”

  “Not from here, I’ll take you via the garage. Do you want me to get your CPO?”

  “Definitely not. He is here to provide me with secure communications back to the Admiralty, and that is all.”

  Peter took Anthony round to the garage. They spent an hour walking up and down the underground complex. Anthony asked a few questions, but nothing Peter could not truthfully answer. Eventually they walked across to the church, on the way Peter had his only sticky moment when Anthony asked, “How’s Jane?”

  Peter did not want to particularly follow this line of thought, but politely answered.

  “Fine; she’s working over at Glumburgh.”

  “Not together then?”

  “No.”

  “Shame, I did hope you two would make it.”

  Peter decided to change the subject.

  “How’s Alice and the kids.”

  “Fine.”

  Anthony suddenly stopped and turned to Peter.

  “Peter, are you happy?”

  “By and large, yes.”

  “All the time?”

  “The vast majority.”

  Anthony shook his head.

  “I wish I could say the same.”

  “Fed up with the Navy?” queried Peter.

  “Good grief no. And I’m not fed up with Alice she is marvelous. It’s just that I only feel really alive when I am at sea, the rest… well the rest is just passing the time in a pleasant manner.”

  Peter thought he could see where this was going.

  “When do you leave the Navy?”

  “Next year, unless I take a shore job.”

  “Frightened?”

  “Terrified. But the worst part is that Alice is looking forward to it like a summer in paradise.”

  “Any idea what you will do?”

  Anthony shook his head, then said.

  “I’m here to do a specific job, but when I’m next here would you mind if I came and talked with you?”

  “Of course not.”

  Anthony resumed his march to the church and shortly after was inspecting the cracks in the crypt floor. Peter may have been imagining things, but they appeared bigger.

  “Time to report in,” said Anthony, and they made their way back to the house. As they walked back Anthony pursed his lips in disapproval.

  “I’ll say one thing, the Army is leading you up the garden path somewhere along the line. They could run their radio equipment from a generator in a shoe-box. To have one that large must mean their supplying something else as well, you could run a small town from that unit.”

  When they arrived there was a large piece of kit sitting in the middle of the hall, which was plugged into the telephone line, but the CPO was nowhere to be found. They found him in the kitchen sitting on a stool and being sketched by Caroline. Anthony went to say something, but Caroline smiled at him; he was then effec
tively neutralized. Caroline said, “I’ll be two more minutes.”

  She completed the sketch and then ran upstairs. The CPO looked apologetic.

  “Sorry Capt’n, but the lady was insistent and in view of what the gentleman had said I thought it best to humor her.”

  Anthony laughed.

  “And I bet she dazzled you with that smile!”

  He turned to Peter.

  “I need to report in, would you care to take a turn around the outside of the house with my CPO?”

  Once again Peter was not sure if this was a request or an order.

  Peter and the CPO walked around the house and stood looking at the floodlit church.

  “Been with Anthony long?” asked Peter.

  “Last ten years, best Capt’n I’ve ever served with. He takes care.”

  “Takes care?”

  The CPO turned and faced Peter,.

  “Just takes care. Takes care that the crew are looked after. Takes care that the ship is not put into excessive danger. Takes care that we have what we need.”

  “I believe you are off to the Med.”

  “Yes, and that’s a point; the trip was unscheduled, we were supposed to be having two weeks shore leave. Capt’n was called to London and soon as we docked and we were all told to stay. When he came back we had our shore leave, and a new set of white kit. Dunno what he said, but we were all grateful.”

  Anthony appeared and gave a wave; they went back inside. Anthony gestured to Peter.

  “I don’t want to leave this gear here, indicating the communications kit, have you any other rooms with a telephone socket.”

  The CPO piped up.

  “Don’t necessarily need a socket Capt’n, if the phone wire passes that is good enough.”

  Peter thought and turned to the CPO.

  “The front main bedroom on the right, it’s labeled Main Bedroom, has the wires just outside the window; put your stuff in there. If you have to pass the time you can use the home cinema equipment, but please be kind to it.”

  The CPO started to gather up the equipment and Anthony took Peter outside.

  “Now what,” said Peter”

  “We wait for a reply.”

  “Have you got somewhere to stay.” asked Peter.

  Anthony shook his head.

  “The CPO will sleep on the floor beside the equipment, and I’ll hang around for a reply.”

  Peter digested this.

  “I’m sorry Anthony, but I don’t have a spare bed. The settee in the lounge will open out into a bed, but I suspect your feet will hang over the end.”

  Anthony grinned.

  “I’m used to standard Navy berths; they don’t plan for people over two meters.”

  They went back in and Peter settled Anthony in the sitting room and then went to bed.

  When Peter got up the following morning at seven o’ clock he found Anthony eating toast in the kitchen; there was no sign of the CPO.

  “Admiralty rang back at midnight,” he said between mouthfuls, “we can expect visitors in about an hour’s time.”

  “What sort of visitors?”

  “Navy heavy engineering crew and a million ready-mixed concrete lorries.”

  “What!”

  Anthony finished his toast and looked at Peter.

  “I don’t know why the Admiralty are so worried and frankly I don’t care; but the order is to shore up the generator pronto and to fill the room below with concrete.”

  “But how am I going to explain that to my churchwardens?”

  Anthony grinned.

  “By the time the crew arrive they should be kitted out properly.”

  “Doesn’t matter how they are kitted out, there will still be questions!”

  The CPO suddenly appeared.

  “Call Capt’n.”

  Anthony disappeared upstairs.

  While Peter waited he considered that this could be a surreal dream; just how many priests, he asked himself, ended up in this sort of situation? Anthony reappeared.

  “Estimated time of arrival about half an hour.

  “Where’s the crew coming from?” asked Peter.

  Anthony smiled and touched the side of his nose.

  “That doesn’t matter; the point is they will be arriving.”

  Sure enough, half an hour later some lorries arrived; they were all decked out in Army colors and the crew all wore Army fatigues. Peter let them in the crypt and the officer in charge gave a low whistle when he saw the cracks. Again Peter was convinced that they had grown in the night. The officer turned to Peter.

  “You can leave it to us now, just go about your normal business.”

  Peter thought a moment.

  “You may have one problem.”

  “Just one?” replied the officer.

  “One of my churchwarden’s was a Major in the Army; he might ask you some questions about regiment and so on.”

  The officer nodded.

  “Thanks for the tip, but he won’t catch us out.”

  Peter could not resist asking one more question.

  “Am I about to lose my basement?”

  The officer, Peter realized that he had not offered a name or a rank, smiled.

  “Yes and no. There is no way we can fill the whole thing with concrete, just this room.

  But we will seal the shafts, especially the one in the old factory, and we will screw down the hatch in your house.”

  Peter started to walk away, and then stopped.

  “How did you keep the tunnel so dry? It must be way below the water table.”

  The Officer just smiled.

  “We’re the Navy sir. We are used to keeping water out of where we don’t want it to be.”

  The repairs took a week, and to Peter’s total surprise raised few questions; it seemed that people believed that the Army had just come to repair cracks in the crypt. Nobody asked why this took a seemingly endless stream of concrete Lorries or four army Lorries. Anthony and his CPO left once the work started; they didn’t say goodbye, they just disappeared. Except Peter later found a note attached to his home cinema; it just read ‘thanks for the hospitality,’ but Peter was still pleased to discover it.

  Despite the activity around the church for the first week, Peter then experienced one of those odd times in ministry. He had realized before that sometimes you go through patches of frenetic activity and sometimes you go through patches of the purely routine. Peter now entered a period of routine. There were no deaths in the congregation, no weddings to take and – best of all – no visits from Jasper. However, there was the harrowing funeral of the electrocuted boy; an experience Peter would rather not repeat. The meetings at The Fisherman’s Friend were steadily progressing; numbers had stabilized at around thirty-four including eight children. Tracy had proved to be an abysmal violinist: whatever she played sounded like a cat in labour. However, she proved to have a beautiful singing voice and her, plus three other women had become the unofficial choir. But the major transformation had been the room. For the second meeting there had been a new carpet composed of green carpet tiles. For the third meeting the ceiling had gained back all its missing tiles, and for the fourth meeting at the end of May the walls had been painted. Bronwyn and Taffy shrugged off the improvements as part of their redecoration scheme, but Peter was not so sure. Baptism classes at Mothers and Toddlers were also going well; there Peter had acquired eight mums and ten toddlers, though admittedly three of the mums were on a self declared refresher course. Caroline left the house after a stay of ten days, but she asked Peter not to go into the attic just yet. Despite the period of relative peace there was one problem: Cameron and some of the rest of the mafia started a whispering campaign against Peter. Peter was not particularly worried by this, but it had the potential to be a definite irritant. The church council also had had another special meeting; for this one Peter had started with a time of prayer and then got everybody to say what they think with the clear mandate of no interruptions. Then without disc
ussion he sent the members home to think and pray about what they had heard. As everyone was allowed their say Peter arrived home fairly late and decided to be lazy; the weather forecast was for fine weather, so Peter parked his Land Rover outside the front of the house rather than putting it away in the garage as usual. This simple act broke his blessed period of routine.

  Chapter 11

  New Beginnings

  The period or routine had allowed Peter to fully re-establish his usual morning pattern of breakfast – prayer – work. The pattern made him feel comfortable and helped him settle into the day; but on the first Tuesday in June it all went violently askew. Peter realized that he was out of digestive biscuits. This may not seem like a great deal, but Aquinas was used to receiving a pair of digestive biscuits in milk for breakfast. No biscuits meant an agitated Aquinas. An agitated Aquinas meant no peace to pray. Peter ate his own breakfast and went out to buy some digestives; as he was approaching his Land Rover he thought he heard something. Aquinas certainly did for he put on an amazing turn of speed and shot round the other side of the Land Rover, but he did not bark or come back. Peter followed and there sitting on the grass was Jo sobbing her heart out. Peter was absolutely wrong footed and caught off guard. Eventually he knew he had to say something rather than stand like a stuffed dummy.

  “Do you want to talk?” He received a shake of the head in reply.

  Peter retreated back into the house; Aquinas stayed next to Jo. It was the predicted sunny morning, so Peter poured two glasses of cloudy lemonade, picked up a book and went outside and sat at the picnic table on the lawn. From there he couldn’t see Jo directly because the Land Rover was in the way, but he could see her reflection in the study window and he settled down to wait, pretending to read his book.

  Eventually Jo got up and went into the house; Peter was not sure that she had seen him, but ten minutes later she appeared and came over to sit at the bench next to him. Peter offered her a glass of lemonade and she sipped it.

  “Sorry about that,” she said.

  “No need to apologize,” said Peter. “I hope I didn’t disturb you.” (As he said it he thought what a daft thing to say, but he was still completely at a loss.)

  “It’s the Land Rover” she said. “It’s a Series One; my dad had one just like it.”