One sunny morning she went round to look at it with Felicity, leaving the twins with Cass. It was a fairly ordinary, comfortably furnished, three-bedroomed house with a long, secluded pretty garden. Kate could see that it was perfect for her. The house would not be difficult to keep clean, there was central heating and the garden would be wonderful for the twins. She let her enthusiasm show, pleasing the owners, and, over a cup of coffee, they struck an agreeable bargain.
‘They’re really nice,’ said Kate as Felicity drove her back to Anglesea Road. She had been rather surprised that Felicity had put herself out to the extent of finding a house for her. ‘And the house is lovely. I can’t thank you enough. It will be terrific to get back to civilisation.’
‘It was no problem.’ Felicity shrugged off Kate’s thanks. ‘Anything I can do to help with the move, just say the word.’
‘Bless you.’ Kate was faintly suspicious at this sudden display of camaraderie. ‘I’m hoping to do it in relays in the car rather than hiring a van. I shall need masses of cardboard cartons. Cass says she’ll do a few trips and then have the twins for the day. It will be much easier without them.’
‘Well, I can load up my car, too, if it’s any help. It’ll be nice to have you a bit closer. For one thing you might be a bit of a restraining influence on Cass.’
Kate’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. ‘Heavens! Does Cass need restraining? What’s she been up to?’
‘She’s getting a reputation.’ Felicity changed gear rather viciously. ‘People are talking about her.’
‘People have always talked about her,’ said Kate soothingly, wondering if Cass had been flirting with Mark II again and sensing a possible motive for Felicity’s goodwill. ‘She’s a shocking flirt but it doesn’t really mean anything. You know that.’
‘I’m not talking about flirting. There are rumours going around about her and Tony.’
‘Oh, Tony!’ Kate sounded relieved. Tony Whelan, who had been at Dartmouth with Mark and Tom, was teaching the specialisation course in Dolphin. ‘Tony flirts with all of us.’
‘I’m not talking about flirting,’ said Felicity again. ‘Jenny said that she went round the other day, rang the bell, no reply. The car was there so she went round the back and peered in and banged on the back door. And Cass appeared at the bottom of the stairs—you know how you can see them through the glass—doing herself up, Jenny said, hair all over the place. Anyway, she let her in, very casual, and then Tony appeared. Cass said he’d popped in to borrow a book on navigation that Tom had promised him. Tony said he must be going and went. Jenny said that Cass looked as if she was going to explode with laughter.’
‘And did he have a book?’
‘Well, he did as it happened. Had it in his hand when he appeared, cool as a cucumber, Jenny said.’
‘Well, then.’
Felicity swung the car into Anglesea Road and pulled up at Cass’s gate. ‘The point is that while Tony was saying goodbye, Jenny managed to get a good look at the title.’
‘And?’
Felicity turned to look at her. ‘And the book just happened to be The Wind in the Willows!’
‘BUT IT IS, DARLING! The Wind in the Willows is absolutely packed with information about navigation. Dear old Ratty, up and down the river all day long, showing Mole how to steer and things. Surely you remember?’
‘I remember perfectly well and I can’t imagine for a single moment that Tom would give Tony a copy of The Wind in the Willows.’
‘Lend, darling. Only lend. Heavens, Kate! For a moment then you looked just like dear old Nanny. Now, promise that you’re not going to become all stuffy or I shan’t be able to tell you things. Look, Guy has drawn you a lovely picture of a submarine—just what you need!—and Giles has made you a plasticine man. Now come and have a drink and tell me all about it. Charlotte’s done you a picture, too. It’s your new house and these are all the flowers growing around it. They’ve all been so good and quiet.’
Kate admired all these works of industry and imagination with great enthusiasm and followed Cass through to the sunny little terrace at the back of the house. The children, delighted by her appreciation of their efforts, suddenly became very noisy and excitable and rushed out on to the lawn where various outdoor toys stood. They began to throw themselves about, shouting and showing off. Kate put the drawings and the little figure on Cass’s garden table and sat down in one of the wicker chairs beside it. Oliver’s pram stood at the far end of the lawn, beneath the flowering cherry. Presently Cass joined her, carrying a bottle and two glasses.
‘So what’s the house like? Tell me all. Do I gather that Felicity thought that she might be polluted if she came in?’
‘The house is great.’ Kate began to laugh rather helplessly. ‘Oh, honestly Cass! The Wind in the Willows! Couldn’t you do better than that?’
‘Well, to be honest, it was all rather spur of the moment stuff. There was old Jenny, ringing and hammering away, and Tony couldn’t find his knickers and we were dashing about, thinking up reasons why he’d come and the book was just lying there. Charlotte often comes into my bed in the mornings and I read to her for a bit. Thank goodness I’d taken the paper cover off but even so. Old Eagle Eye Jenny must have been really peering. Thank God it wasn’t Beatrix Potter!’
They both rocked with laughter.
‘But Cass, Tony . . . ’
‘He’s such a sweetie. He just popped round, you know, being friendly and the children were asleep and it was all hot and sleepy and sexy. You know the sort of afternoon. We had a little drink and, well, I’m sure you can imagine the rest.’
‘But what if Tom finds out?’
‘Well, he won’t! Don’t start going all dreary. Remember, it’s me who’s Cassandra and supposed to foretell gloom. Not you!’
Kate sighed. ‘OK. But every time I look at Tony now I shall imagine it.’
Cass topped up their glasses. ‘I found his knickers when I went to bed that night,’ she said, musing. ‘All wrapped up in the sheets. Thank God Tom didn’t come home unexpectedly! Now! Do tell me all about the new house and then we’ll have some lunch.’
ON HIS ARRIVAL BACK in Gosport, Mark was delighted to find that all problems had been solved and that Kate and the twins were installed in a jolly little house in Alverstoke. His relief at not being called upon to take any of the decisions—or to do any of the work—made him quite expansive. The boat was now alongside for a maintenance period and for the remainder of the summer they were able to enjoy the social life as much as possible, given that Mark was by no means a social animal and always made some difficulty or other about every event. Kate met the rest of the Wardroom and persuaded Mark, after quite a round of parties, that they must give one of their own. He became very taciturn until Cass suggested that they make it a barbecue. She would lend the equipment and Tom, who cooked a mean steak, could be assistant chef.
That did the trick and Mark was able to anticipate the event without too much anxiety. It was a great success although they held it not a moment too soon for that September was the wettest for many years and there was a tremendous amount of flooding.
Kate, guided by Cass, had started to pay more attention to her appearance, which she had neglected in Devon. She let her brown curls grow longer and wore pretty cotton shift dresses, although she clung to her jeans for ordinary daily wear. Having the twins to look after kept her slender and by the time the summer was over she had almost as many admirers as Cass. Felicity, not to be outdone, had a Mary Quant haircut and wore very short miniskirts that looked well with her thin, tanned legs. With her almost black hair and eyes she was an excellent foil for Cass’s tall, fair voluptuousness.
The boat was due to sail to Gothenburg just after the twins’ third birthday and there was the usual end of maintenance party on board. On the way to the boat, Kate found herself puzzling as usual as to why submariners were so keen to hold parties on board. She had got used to going carefully down the gangplank—purgatory in high-heel
ed shoes when sober and hell after a few drinks—on to the casing of the inboard submarine, crossing by another gangplank to the next and so to the host boat. She let Mark precede her down the hatch and then climbed down herself by means of the vertical ladder which only descended so far before she had to turn to step across the hatch so as to continue down the other side. This procedure, accompanied by the threat of diesel oil—death to evening clothes—had now become part of her life and, as such, familiar.
Descending into the warm and smoky atmosphere humming with voices, Mark standing at the bottom of the ladder so that no passing sailor could look up her skirt, Kate felt the usual small thrill of anticipation.
She was manoeuvred into the Wardroom, designed to hold six officers in minimal comfort and now packed with at least twenty people, and was hailed by Tony Whelan who presently fought his way to her side bearing a gin and tonic in either hand. He passed one to her and hugged her with his free arm. She hugged him back, perfectly able to understand the attraction he held for Cass. He had an easy charm and a ready sense of humour and the knack of making a woman feel fatally attractive. Kate, who considered this to be a perfectly admirable trait, enjoyed it to the full whilst knowing that it meant nothing. She parried his advances, laughed at his jokes and went to dance with him in the crowded control room, circling the periscope in his intimate embrace and ignoring Mark’s displeased face. Mark hated dancing and, although he rarely danced with Kate, rather resented anyone else who did. They circled the periscope yet again and Kate, beginning to suspect that Tony had at least six hands, caught sight of Mark, watching her now with something like distaste.
She remembered that during the time she had left to her before the boat sailed she was still hoping to convert Mark to the idea of another baby and reluctantly pushed Tony away.
‘Come on, octopus,’ she said. ‘Let’s go and find something to eat.’
When the boat sailed, Kate took Mark into Dolphin, wondering why submarines always went to Harbour Stations at seven in the morning, hugged him goodbye and drove away. He discouraged her from waiting to see the boat sail although some wives went into Dolphin’s Wardroom and out on to the balcony to wave the boat past as it went down the river to the channel. Sometimes, if the weather was fine, Kate would take the twins to the beach and they would watch from there until the black hull was no longer visible. Today, since it was raining and Mark would not know—or care—if they were there or not, Kate drove straight home and put the kettle on. Strange how the smell of diesel seemed to cling. It was a smell that all through her life would instantly remind her of submarines, brown canvas holdalls, starched white collars just back from the laundry in cardboard boxes, windy dockyards and the poignant sense of waiting. Always waiting. Waiting for the boat to come in. Waiting for the leave to start. Waiting for the shore job.
AS KATE WAS FINISHING the washing up after lunch a tiny plan formed in her mind. Perhaps she would take a trip to Cornwall to see her family and, on the way, she would stop off to see the General. Tom’s boat would be sailing soon so Cass might like to come too. It would be such fun to go together, just for a week or two. Her heart lifted at the thought and she went to the telephone and dialled Cass’s number. It rang for some time and she was about to hang up when there was a click and Cass’s voice said: ‘Hello.’ At the same time a man’s voice could be heard clearly in the background.
‘Hello, Cass,’ said Kate. ‘Is that Tom I can hear? I thought he had to go to London today. Is he OK?’
‘Can I call you back?’ Cass sounded as if she were trying not to laugh. ‘Bit of a crisis. I’ll speak to you later.’
There was a click as the receiver was replaced. Kate stood puzzled, thinking hard. Giles started calling to her from the landing and she put the receiver back on its rest and started to climb the stairs. It was only later that she realised that she had recognised the man’s voice. It was George Lampeter’s.
WHEN IT SEEMED THAT both Tom and Mark were going to be at home for Christmas, it was agreed between parents and grandparents that the children would be happier in their own homes and the trip to the West Country became a compromise between a little holiday and a pre-Christmas visit.
The girls decided to travel together in Kate’s car, Charlotte squashed between the twins’ seats and Oliver in his carrycot on the seat by their feet. They were all very uncomfortable but immensely excited and took it in good part. It was arranged that the twins should take turn and turn about with Charlotte and that regular stops should be made for leg stretching and refreshment.
‘Thank God Mark’s father insisted on an estate car,’ said Kate as they packed their luggage as well as Christmas presents and a picnic into the back. ‘If the kids get too uncomfortable with Oliver crammed in front of them, we’ll put his carrycot in here.’
They set off in good spirits but it was well into the afternoon when Kate turned on to the Moretonhampstead road out of Exeter. As it began to climb up to the moor she felt her spirits climbing with it. It was a quiet day, warm for December, and the clouds moved lazily before the wind that blew gently from the south-west. Today the moor was a study in pastels: chalky browns for the bleached grasses and dying bracken, soft charcoal grey for the granite tors smudged against creamy slow-moving clouds, the hills, unfolding mistily into the distance, a soft muted blue. Kate pulled off the road, released the children who ran to look at the little stream, and stood gazing about her. Cass brought her a mug of coffee, the last of the picnic.
‘Glad to be back?’ she asked.
‘Home,’ amended Kate. ‘I feel as if I’ve come home. I can’t imagine how I ever managed to leave it.’
The General and Mrs Hampton underlined this feeling. They hurried out to greet the travellers, exclaiming over how much the children had grown and hugging the two girls. Mrs Hampton crooned admiringly over Oliver, who took all such tributes in his stride, and hurried off with him, Charlotte beside her.
‘Just like dear old Nanny,’ said Cass, stretching mightily and slipping her arm through her father’s. ‘You’re looking terrific, Daddy. Younger than ever. Are you going to be able to squeeze us all in?’
‘It certainly is going to be a squeeze,’ he agreed, ‘but the more the merrier. You two are in the bigger bedroom with the cot, and the boys and Charlotte are in the little one. In the end I decided to buy some bunk beds. Two sets. If you go on like this, I’ll be needing them and it saves space.’
‘The twins will be out of their heads with joy,’ said Kate, taking his other arm. ‘Their one ambition is to sleep in bunk beds. Let’s go and show them.’
‘First things first.’ The General was unable to contain his excitement. ‘Get the children together. I’ve got something to show them in the drawing room.’
They all trooped in and stopped short with little cries of pleasure. In one corner, to the right of a blazing log fire, stood a Christmas tree, its coloured lights twinkling softly. The baubles and decorations shimmered and flashed in the firelight as they swung and beneath the tree was a pile of brightly wrapped mysterious looking parcels.
The children, who were too young to remember previous Christmases, were rendered quite speechless as they gazed with wondering eyes upon the magic of it and the General, watching their faces with delight, was amply rewarded for all his efforts.
Kate found that she was clutching his hand and when she looked across at Cass she saw tears in her eyes.
‘I thought that we’d celebrate early, my darlings,’ he was saying. ‘After all, the Queen has two birthdays, why not the Christ Child?’
Mrs Hampton, carrying Oliver and holding Charlotte’s hand, nodded. ‘ ’Tis right pretty,’ she said, her eyes bright. ‘We got mince pies made, too, an’ a cake an’ a sizeable old chicken in the fridge. ‘Twas too early to get a turkey but ‘e’ll do us. Now, what about some tea?’ She bore the reluctant children away to be cleaned up.
‘It’s absolutely perfect,’ said Cass.
‘Did you see their faces?’ Kate
smiled. ‘They’ll never forget that as long as they live. Neither shall I.’
The General looked pleased. ‘It went down very well,’ he agreed. ‘Now, all that we need to do is to choose which day to have as our own private Christmas. We may want to wait until Kate and the twins come back from Cornwall. Meanwhile, what about that unpacking? Come and see what we’ve done upstairs and then we can all relax.’
‘IT’S FUNNY,’ SAID KATE, as they drove home again a week later. ‘I find it harder to say goodbye to your father than I do to Mark! And I always hate leaving Devon.’
‘Perhaps Mark’ll get another boat down here,’ suggested Cass, deciding to ignore the first half of the remark. ‘You never know your luck.’
But when the time came and they were appointed as First Lieutenants, it was Tom who was given a boat running out of Devonport, while Mark was sent to Faslane, the submarine base built at the head of the Gare Loch on the west coast of Scotland.
Part Two
Eight
1972-75
Both Tom and Mark were recommended out of their First Lieutenants’ jobs for Perisher: the submariners’ Commanding Officers Qualifying Course. They were both exultant—and terrified. The Perisher lasted overall for about six months and now, with Mark’s appointment to Faslane coming to an end, the question of where to live arose. Once an officer had passed the course, he was given a submarine to drive and no one could possibly guess which of the three bases that submarine might be running from.
Kate had enjoyed Scotland, revelling in the wild, beautiful country north of the small town of Helensburgh which stood at the end of the Gare Loch. Mark had been at sea for most of the two years and she and the twins had explored the country together and had been made to feel at home in the base which looked out over the loch to the mountains beyond. Nevertheless, she was very glad to be back in the West Country and delighted and relieved that Mark had succeeded thus far. Her suggestion was that they move to Alverstoke so that she would be able to give him some moral support for the first part of the course. The Attack Teacher was at the Submarine School at Dolphin. Mark wasn’t so keen.
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