Trewin made himself ask, “The Prawn, sir? What happened?”
The admiral began to walk down the slope, his eyes fixed on the water and the small group of watching sailors. “We were spotted by a Jap aircraft the second day out. We tried everything. Dodged about the islands and nearly ran into a bloody destroyer in the Berhala Strait.” He pushed the hair from his eyes. “Then, just as we were crossing open water towards these islands we were picked up by a fast patrol boat.” He shrugged and grimaced. “By God, she was damn fast all right!”
They had reached the water’s edge now, and the sailors by the beached dory were staring at the admiral as if reading their own fate in his words.
Fairfax-Loring continued, “They raked the Prawn from stem to stern, and then, just as I thought it was all over, the four-inch gun managed to land a brick right on the bastard! It was too damn dark to see, but it was a direct hit right enough. She went limping off like a bloody sick dog!”
Trewin asked harshly, “Where is Prawn now, sir?”
The admiral shrugged. “Back there over on the north side of the island somewhere.”
Dancy watched the flag-lieutenant being lowered into the dory and then said, “Are you wounded, sir?”
Fairfax-Loring glared at him. “Never mind about me! I’ve got a job to do!”
Trewin said, “I’ll go over to the other side of the island and see what I can do.”
“You’ll get aboard your ship with me, Trewin!” The admiral’s eyes were red-rimmed and angry. “The Prawn is a write-off, any decisions must be made right here and at once!” He threw his legs over the boat’s gunwale, adding, “The passengers are safe enough. They were all battened below during the action.” He shuddered. “Just as well for them. It was a living hell on deck!”
Trewin followed him into the crowded boat, his brain still reeling from the admiral’s words. Seeing Fairfax-Loring had been bad enough. To know that Clare and the others were somewhere on the other side of that green hill, helpless and without hope, was like the climax to a nightmare.
The boat bumped alongside, but he was only partly aware of the men leaping down to assist the flag-lieutenant aboard, of the anxious questions and the faces which stared down from the guardrails.
Fairfax-Loring watched Hughes being carried towards the sick bay. “Poor chap. No stamina. He’s been raving since the attack.”
As Corbett hurried down from the bridge he added shortly, “I am glad to see you. I was beginning to give up hope altogether.”
Corbett shot Trewin a questioning glance, but the admiral said firmly, “For God’s sake take me to your quarters. I need a drink!”
Hammond joined Trewin at the rail, his face tight with anxiety. “I just heard. What are we going to do?”
Trewin looked at him. “I’m going to find out.” He lifted his eyes to the bridge. “Right now!”
He found Fairfax-Loring sitting behind Corbett’s desk, a dressing gown around his broad shoulders, and one hand thrust into the front of his shirt like a sling. Corbett was by an open scuttle, his face troubled and grave.
Trewin said, “I’d like to ask what we’re going to do to help Prawn, sir?” He purposely avoided the admiral’s angry stare.
Corbett replied quietly, “It seems that she is in a bad way.”
Fairfax-Loring winced and moved his arm up and down. “It’s like this, my boy. As I’ve just told the captain, there is not much we can do. The Prawn is an old ship, and this fresh damage would slow her down even more.”
Trewin faced him coldly. “Then she’s not a complete writeoff, sir?”
The admiral frowned. “Well, she can get steam up obviously, or I wouldn’t be here!”
Trewin turned to Corbett. “I’d like permission to take the motor boat around the island at once, sir. I think it essential that we keep together.”
“Very well.” Corbett did not look at the admiral. “You realise of course that if we are discovered here in the meantime we may sail without you?” There was pain in his eyes. “But if you think you should go…”
The admiral shouted, “What the hell are you talking about? Even if Prawn does eventually sail she can’t keep up with you! Two ships in company would be asking for disaster!”
Corbett looked at him coolly. “Are you ordering me to keep Trewin here, sir?”
“I’m not ordering you to do any damn thing! But that Jap patrol boat was only damaged, she’ll be screaming for help and will bring the whole search party down on our ears if we sit here!”
Corbett nodded. “I can see that, although it is obvious that Prawn’s gunners managed to knock out the enemy’s W/T before she could send a signal for assistance.” His tone was mild. “Otherwise we would have been attacked before we reached here, eh?”
To Trewin he said shortly, “Go at once. But remember this. I will have to sail as soon as it is dark.” He followed Trewin into the sunlight and continued quietly, “Take care, Trewin. Take good care!”
Trewin paused at the ladder. “I will.”
“When I weigh anchor I will take Porcupine up and around the island before I head to the south again, Trewin.” Corbett was watching him intently. “If Prawn can sail she can come out and meet me. But send a messenger back in the motor boat as soon as you know what is happening.” He looked meaningly at the cabin hatch. “The admiral is evidently keen on leaving her behind.”
As the motor boat headed away from the gangway Trewin looked back and saw Corbett staring after it. Then as they chugged between the reefs the Porcupine was hidden from view and the motor boat had the islands to itself.
THE PRAWN was so well camouflaged with palm fronds that Trewin almost passed her hiding place. She was very close inshore with her anchors embedded on the beach itself, while her square stern was moored to a long outcrop of jagged rock which stuck out from the tree-covered beach like a stone breakwater.
It was all so unreal that as the boat glided gently towards the sand neither Trewin nor Dancy or any of the boat’s crew said a word.
At first the concealed gunboat appeared like a deserted wreck, her hull showing all the new traces of combat, her upperworks pitted with splinter holes and blackened by fire. Then as the motor boat drew closer they saw figures running down from the hillside and others wading into the sea itself to greet them.
The keel grated ashore and Trewin staggered dazedly on to the sand, his ears ringing with cries and shouts of excitement as women and children, hobbling soldiers and smoke-stained seamen pushed round his little party, slapping his shoulders, calling his name, or just staring at him through tears of surprise and fresh hope.
He saw Lieutenant Adair with one arm strapped in splints and a reddened bandage around his head striding to meet him, his tired features split into a great grin of welcome.
Trewin said, “Thank God you’re all right!”
Adair nodded. “Never imagined we’d meet like this, old boy.”
Trewin looked at the top of the narrow beach. There was a long line of sandy graves, and he asked quietly, “All yours?”
Adair wiped his face with his good hand. “Yes. Including my number one. He was killed outright.” He looked at Trewin as if he still could not believe it. “So the admiral sent you to help us, eh?” He shook his head. “I never thought he’d get to you in time.”
Trewin thought of Fairfax-Loring’s words and replied, “Yes, he sent me.” The lie came easier than he expected. “Corbett is sailing as soon as it gets dark. Can you be ready by then?”
Adair shrugged. “I guess so. We’ve been patching and plugging all day. We were holed so many times that I had to jettison more coal, so I’ve had my chaps hacking down trees for the bloody boilers.” He grinned, but the strain was stark in his eyes. “That’s the advantage of my old kettle!”
Trewin looked at the savage scars along the gunboat’s bridge. “It must have been bad.”
“It was. I had to let the Jap boat get right up to me before I could pot her with the old four-inch. But be
fore that happened I lost fifteen men killed. I suppose I should have surrendered with all those poor devils crammed below.” He looked away. “But after getting so far, I thought, what the hell!”
Trewin turned his mind away from Hammond’s report of the butchered nurses. Surrender would not have helped. He said, “I’ll send my boat back with a message for Corbett. I shall stay here and give you a hand, if I may?”
Adair studied him carefully. “I’d appreciate that. So would the others.” He looked over Trewin’s shoulder. “She’s over there, waiting to see you.” He smiled briefly and walked back towards his ship.
Dancy said quietly, “I’ll tell the boat’s crew what to say, sir. I’m staying here with you.” He did not wait for Trewin’s reply but strode back down the beach where the Porcupine’s sailors were talking and laughing with about thirty children.
Trewin looked towards the trees. Clare Massey was standing quite still against a dead trunk, her arms hanging at her sides. She was wearing the same green dress as when he had put her aboard the Prawn, and he could see the great stains of oil and what looked like blood on the skirt.
As she saw him looking at her she started to run. She did not stop until she was in his arms, and for a full minute they did not speak. When she did speak her voice seemed to come from far away. “Oh, Ralph, I never thought I’d ever see you again. After we sailed one of the men told me that you would not be able to follow, that your ship was too damaged to move.” She clutched his shoulders, feeling him as if to reassure herself that this too was not just part of a mad dream. “And you did not tell me! You let me go thinking it would be all right!”
Trewin said, “I’m here now, Clare. That’s all that matters.”
She lifted her chin and looked into his face. “Even when it was bad I hoped and prayed that you would be safe.”
He touched her hair. “Thank God you were not hurt.”
She shuddered against him. “We didn’t see anything. It was terrible. All the lights went out and we could feel the ship being hit again and again. Some water started to come in, and we had to hold the children above us to keep them from drowning before they got the pumps started.”
Trewin held her tightly, seeing only too clearly what she must have endured. “I wish I could have spared you that.”
She shook her head. “I’m glad I was there, Ralph. I mean it. Now I shall know what it’s like.” Her mouth quivered in a smile. “When we came on deck and saw these islands I really did think I was dreaming.”
Trewin thought of the journey which still stretched ahead. Over three hundred miles. He said, “We’re not alone any more.”
Over her head he could see the departing boat and Dancy trying to drive the children back to the cover of the trees without much success. He saw Jacqui Laniel helping a wounded soldier into a patch of shade and asked, “How is Corbett’s wife? Is she safe?”
The girl nodded. “But she’s changed. I can’t explain it, but she seems so different from before. She doesn’t speak to anyone, but just stays quiet and keeps to herself, even amongst all these people.”
Trewin ran his arm around her shoulder and together they walked along the edge of the beach. “I expect we’ve all changed,” he said slowly. “Some of us for the better, I hope.”
She said, “Will we be leaving soon?”
“Tonight.” He felt her go tense. “But this time we will be keeping you company. So try not to think about it.”
She shook her head. “It’s not that, Ralph. It’s just that it seems so soon now that we are together again.”
“I know.” He glanced at the battle-scarred ship. “I wanted so much for you. To make things better again.”
She did not answer, but gripped his arm even tighter.
Trewin looked at the sky. There were a few low clouds, and he could feel a growing breeze on his face. At any other time the daylight would have dragged. Now, even his heartbeats seemed to register the passing of time. But in spite of his anxiety he felt strangely content. Perhaps for the first time in his life.
16 | The Common Enemy
TREWIN PAUSED on the crest of the great outcrop of rocks and looked down at the moored Prawn. He could feel the afternoon sun across his neck and shoulders, and the heat from the rock burned through his shoes like the top of a stove. He noticed that the boats alongside the ship’s battered hull were rising and falling with extra vigour, and that the anchor cables and stern wires were no longer slack and motionless. One minute they were bar taut, the next dipping deep into the clear water as the ship stirred uneasily on a growing swell. He shaded his eyes and stared towards the hard horizon line. There was no haze any more and the sea’s edge was marked with a border of deeper blue, and below in streak upon streak of shadow some far-off disturbance transmitted itself towards the islands in a regular procession of shallow rollers.
Trewin turned away from the sea and continued to climb towards the jutting spur of headland. The Prawn was as ready as she ever could be for the next part of her journey. There was nothing more that he or anyone else could do now.
He pushed through some dry scrub and stood looking down at the girl. She was sitting beside a deep pool of trapped water which had probably been thrown up from the rocks in some fierce gale, and which gave some hint of what the sea and wind could achieve when they had a mind.
Her green dress lay drying beside the water, and she was wearing a towel wrapped beneath her arms like a sarong. She smiled at him. “I have been waiting for you. It’s cooler up here, and we can see the ship if we want to.” She tossed her hair across her bare shoulders and added, “You look worn out. Why not have a bathe?”
Trewin was suddenly aware of the dust and weariness on his body, which was made all the more apparent by the girl’s smooth skin and the inviting stillness of the pool.
She was watching him gravely. “I have brought some food. We will have a picnic.”
Trewin said, “You’ll have to look the other way.”
“I shall lie here and watch the sky.” She laughed. “I promise not to embarrass you.”
Trewin stripped off his clothes and lowered himself into the water. After the heat of the rocks and the airless confines of the Prawn’s hull, where he had been helping to supervise the stowage of timber for her boilers, it felt almost cold.
He heard her say, “We could live here for ever. Just let the ship go without us and forget the outside world. I should like that.”
Trewin climbed from the pool and saw that she had brought a towel for him. He wrapped it round his waist and dropped on to the sand beside her. Her eyes were closed and he could see a small pulse beating at her throat. He took her hand and held it very gently. “You wouldn’t find me arguing with you on that point, Clare.”
“I find I can think about all which has happened now. But when I try to look ahead I get frightened. We seem to have lost everything from the past. And the future is all strange.” She lifted herself on one elbow and stared at him. “Don’t you think so?”
He nodded. “Rather like a book waiting to be written. Or trying to think of a garden where there’s only rough ground.” He smiled. “Maybe it’s better that way.”
She reached out and touched his shoulder, her fingers cool against the skin. “Remember when we first met? A lot has changed since then.”
Trewin thought of his shame and his anger. But as her hand touched his scars he was conscious only of her nearness, of his desperate longing.
She dropped her hand and plucked at the sand between them. “We will be parted soon, Ralph. That is the only future I am sure about. I don’t want to lose you again. I must have something to hold on to!”
Trewin put his hand on her shoulder and felt her tremble. The whole world seemed to be confined to this small shaded patch of sand and scrub and the gathering clouds which moved purposefully overhead. A hot breeze rippled the surface of the pool and he saw the blown sand settling in her dark hair. Beneath his hand her skin was warm and there were small fleck
s of perspiration across her forehead.
She said quietly, “Please, Ralph. We must have this moment just for ourselves.”
She closed her eyes as he moved his hand to hold her breast, and as the towel dropped away she said, “It’s you I want. There’s never been anyone else.”
For a moment longer he made himself lie quite still, looking at her perfect body, torturing himself with his longing. Then he ran his hand across her breasts and down over the softness of her thighs. She was moving her head from side to side, her lips parted as if in pain. But as he rose above her and his shadow covered her like a cloak she opened her eyes and looked directly into his face.
Trewin felt her hands reaching up for him, all at once insistent and demanding, their touch sweeping away his last control, so that he seemed to hear a great wind roaring in his ears as their bodies came together as one.
He thought he heard her cry out, but as she rose to meet and encircle him he forgot everything but their love, which by its power and desperation held the other world far at bay.
Later they lay without moving or speaking, their bodies whipped by the drifting sand beneath the wind-stirred palms which looked so black against the sky.
Trewin felt her lips move against his shoulder. “Now we have something to remember if things get bad.”
He lifted her chin and studied her with great care. “We can wait up here for a while longer.” He saw the bushes swaying in the wind and heard the distant murmur of surf against the beach. The weather was changing fast. It might be an ally, or a bad enemy.
He said, “It’s strange. I’m not afraid any more.”
She took his hand and laid it impulsively against her breast. “Feel my heart, Ralph.” She turned her face away, but not before he had seen the sudden tears. “I’m stupid to cry like this. But it is because I’m happy.”
A few drops of warm rain touched their bodies, but they stayed in each other’s arms, neither wanting to let go, and each praying for the sun to stop its measured journey towards the horizon.
Far below them on the Prawn’s bridge Lieutenant Adair squinted at the sky and consulted his watch. Then he looked up at the headland and gave a small smile. To a petty officer he said, “Call all hands. We’ll get under way in thirty minutes.”
Pride and the Anguish Page 28