Kemp lurched to his feet. `Impudent lot. Still, they have their uses. Mean well, I suppose.'
He paused beside the table and added abruptly, `When we meet the FOIC tomorrow, I'd be obliged if you'd not mention your ideas about commerce raiders and so forth. He's quite enough on his plate at the moment. He'll not thank you for wasting his time.'
`Even if it means saving ships and men, sir?'
Kemp seemed to have difficulty in holding him in focus. `That last freighter sank by accident, Lindsay!' He was shouting. `And that's all there is to it!'
Lindsay stood stockstill. He had not even been thinking about that unfortunate ship, except for the fact Kemp had left her unaided. But now it was out in the open and there was no avoiding the truth. Kemp actually believed what he had been telling him, yet was equally prepared to ignore it for his own survival. He needed things to stay as they were, like stopping the clock, just long enough for him to achieve some better appointment elsewhere.
As he followed Kemp's thickset figure across a marble floor to the dining room his mind was already working on this frightening possibility.
The Terrible news about Singapore. could be all it needed to make the Germans take full advantage of their ally's victory. For the next few months naval resources would be stretched far beyond safety limits as troops and supplies were re-deployed to meet the new dangers. The Japs might invade India and march on into the rich oil-fields of the Middle East. They could have it planned for months, even years with the Germans, so that an eventual link-up between their forces was made a brutal fact. One vast pair of steel pincers biting through Russia and the Middle East, to carve the world in halves.
Inside the tea-planter's cool house it all seemed so clear and starkly obvious he was almost unnerved. It must be just as plain to those in real authority. Unless.... He looked at Kemp's,plump shoulders. In past wars it had always taken several years to rid. authority of men like him. It was said that in the old battlefields of Flanders the ploughs were still churning up countless remains of the men thrown away by generals who had believed cavalry superior, to machine-guns and barbed wire. And admirals who had scoffed at the trivial consequences of submarine warfare.
He was surprised to find he was not the only guest for dinner. A bearded surgeon-commander from the admiral's staff, the commodore's aide who had wilted before Fraser's verbal barrage and an elderly major of artillery were already standing around a well-laid table. Midshipman Kemp was also present, standing apart from the others, and there was a dried-up little woman acting as hostess, introduced as the surgeoncommander's wife.
In spite of the fans it was very hot, and the ample helpings of varied curries did little to help matters. Beyond the shuttered windows Lindsay could see the last rays of bronze sunlight,, the palms very black against the sky.
There was a lot to drink. Too much. Lindsay was astonished at the way the commodore could put it away. Wine came and went with the soft-footed servants, while his voice grew louder and more slurred.
Beside Lindsay the midshipman ate his meal in silence, ,his eyes rarely leaving the table until his father suddenly said, `By God, Julian, don't pick at your food! Try and eat like a man, if nothing else!'
Lindsay recalled the boy's face-after the action. Tightlipped but strangely determined. Stannard had told him how the midshipman had worked with his plotting team. How he had been sick several times but had somehow managed to keep going. And all that time.he had probably been picturing his father speeding to safety with the heavy escort. Leaving him alone, as he had always done. -
Lindsay leaned back in his chair. He felt light-headed but no longer cared.
`Actually, sir, he did very well on this last trip.' He knew the boy was staring, at him, that the surgeon's wife had paused in her apparently insatiable appetite with a fork poised in the air.
The aide said swiftly, `Good show. I remember when I was at Dartmouth I...'
The commodore said flatly, `Hold your noise!' To Lindsay he added, `You don't know my son or you might think otherwise.'
He signalled for more wine, unaware of the sudden tension around the table.
`My son does not like the Service. He would rather sit on his, backside listening to highbrow music than do anything useful. When I think of my father and what he taught me, I want to weep.'
The army major dabbed his chin with a napkin. `Spare the rod, eh?' He laughed, the sound strangely, hollow in the quiet room.
`I think he's old enough to know his own mind.' Lindsay could feel the anger returning. `When the war's over he'll be able to make his choice.'
`Is that what you think?' The commodore leaned forward, his eyes red-rimmed in the overhead lights. `Well, I'm telling you, Commander Lindsay, that I will decide what he will or will not do! No son of mine is going to bring disgrace on my family, do you hear?'
`Perfectly, sir.' He gripped his glass tightly to prevent his hand from shaking. `But at present he is under my command, and I will assess his qualities accordingly.'
The commodore shifted in his chair and then snapped, `We will take our port in the next room.'
Lindsay stood up. `If you will excuse me, sir. I would like to be excused.'
The surgeon's wife said hastily, `You must be worn out, Commander. If half of what they're saying about you is true, then I think you should get some rest.'
The commodore only succeeded in rising to his feet with the aid of a servant's arm.
`You are excused.' He faced Lindsay and added thickly, `And as far as I'm concerned you can....'
He turned and walked unsteadily to the door without finishing it.
Lindsay left the room and waited for a house-boy to fetch his cap. He heard footsteps and saw the young midshipman staring at him.
`I'm sorry, sir. I'd not have had this happen for anything.'
Lindsay forced a smile. `Forget it. My fault entirely.'
`You don't understand, sir.' Kemp's face was tight with concern. `I know him. He'll try and get his own back on you.' He dropped his eyes. `He's not like you, sir. If he were, I'd never have needed to be told to enter the Navy.'
The boy's sincerity, his shame and humiliation, made him appear even more defenceless than usual.
Lindsay said quietly, `That was a nice compliment. One which I happen to value very much.'
He took his cap and walked quickly into the garden.
Behind him the boy stood staring at the open door long after Lindsay had disappeared in the shadows.
A slow, lurching taxi carried Lindsay back to the base, his head lolling to the jerky motion, his throat parched in spite of the wine.
By the time he had found the jetty a moon had appeared, and in the pale .light he could see the Benbecula resting against the piles, the dazzle paint strangely vivid and garish. A sentry paced back and forth on the gangway, and in the glow of a blue police light he saw the quartermaster drooping over his desk, probably engrossed in a book or some old letter from home.
It was very still, and after lighting his pipe Lindsay walked the full length of his ship, from her towering straight stem to her outmoded poop where the ill-used twelve-pounder pointed at the moon like a rigid finger. Then with a sigh he walked up the steep brow, nodding to the startled quartermaster and then walking forward towards his quarters. .
As he passed a door he heard the crash of breaking glass. It was Stannard's cabin, but as he made to reach for the clip he heard Dancy say, `I'd leave him, sir.'
Dancy had been leaning against the rail, his body merging with the deep shadows.
He added quietly, `There was a message sent aboard just after you left, sir. Pilot's brother is aboard one of the hospital ships.'
Lindsay watched him. `He got away then?'
Dancy did not seem to hear. `He went across right away. He's been in there drinking ever since.' Dancy rested his elbows on the rail and added, `He saw him all right. But he'd got no arms!' His shoulders shook uncontrollably. `And he can't see either, sir!'
Lindsay
stared past him towards the distant buildings, so white in the moon's glare.
`You've been here all the time?'
Dancy nodded. `Just in case, sir.'
Lindsay touched his arm. `I'll not be turning in yet. Come and have a drink in my cabin when he's asleep.' He waited. `If you feel like it.'
Dancy straightened his back. `Thank you, sir.' Lindsay walked on towards the bridge ladder. In just one evening he had learned a lot about his officers. And himself.
16
A miracle
For three more days no fresh instructions were sent to Benbecula or any intimation of what her next duty might be. Lindsay had still not had the expected interview with the admiral or even his chief of staff, but at first this omission had not troubled him. Indeed, when he thought about it at all, he was almost relieved. The local naval staff had enough work on hand as it was, and he was being kept more than busy with his ship's repairs.
But it was concerning Benbecula's repairs and general replenishment which at -last gave him a hint that something was happening outside his own knowledge. Small items for the most part, which added together grew into a definite pattern.
Lieutenant Hunter had called on him to complain of his inability to secure any six-inch shells to replace those fired, although he had been told that plenty were available.
When Lindsay had asked, `Have you spoken to Guns about this?' Hunter had sounded guarded.
`Well, sir, he has been a bit preoccupied lately. Anyway, I can deal with it once I've got the authority.'
Maxwell had been acting even more strangely, that was certain. He had stayed ashore every night, although nobody had seen him or knew where he went.
Goss too h been perturbed by the apparent lack of ,attention w ch was being paid to his list of repairs by the dockyard staff. That was normal enough on its own. Goss saw every dockyard worker as a potential thief, layabout and someone bent on spoiling his ship's appearance and efficiency. But it was true that some of the work had been skimped rather than properly rectified.
Lieutenant Barker had much the same tale. Stores were difficult to obtain, and apart from the basic rations of food and clothing, very little seemed available for the Benbecula.
Added together; Lindsay felt it was more than mere coincidence.
The ship's company on the other hand accepted the situation with obvious delight. Trips ashore, strange sights of, native women and rickshaws, elephants and snake charmrs, all helped to make each day an event.
Stannard had been ashore very little. In fact, apart from occasional duties he hardly seemed to leave his cabin.
Lindsay had seen him alone after the night of the commodore's dinner party and had asked. if he could do anything.
Stannard had replied, `They've sent Jason to a hospital, sir. He's being sent up to another one at Karachi tomorrow. After that, they say it'll take time.' He had looked at Lindsay with sudden anguish. `Just tell me how I'm to write to the old man, sir. Can you imagine what it will do to him?'
After that brief interview Lindsay had seen little of him. Even Dancy seemed unable to reach him or help ease his despair.
Perhaps when they got back to sea things might change. Lying alongside a jetty in the blazing heat was no help to anyone tortured with such thoughts as Stannard.
On the morning of the fourth day the summons to naval H.Q. was received, and with Jupp hovering around him like an anxious hen Lindsay changed into a white uniform which he had not worn since the outbreak of war.
Jupp remarked, `A bit loose around the middle, if I may make so bold, sir. You should've let me get it fixed sooner.'
He handed Lindsay his dress sword, adding, `Not been feedin' yourself enough, sir. Too much worry is bad for you.'
Lindsay looked at himself in the bulkhead mirror. Even in-war the formalities had to be observed. To show there was no crack in the foundations.
He grinned. `I shall eat better when I know what's going to happen.'
He waited, half expecting Jupp to supply a rumour or at least some reason for the sudden call to H.Q. But Jupp seemed concerned only with his appearance, the impression Benbecula's captain would make when he got there.
At the gangway Goss had to shout above the rasping rattle of a rivet-gun.
`You won't forget about my paint, sir? We're getting very low, and I'm not happy about the port anchor cable.'
Lindsay smiled briefly. The side party stood in a neat line, the bosun's mates wetting their calls on their lips ready to pipe him over the side.
Lieutenant Paget, who was O.O.D., stood very erect, his eyes fixed on Lindsay with something like terror, as if he expected the brow to collapse or one of the side party to run amok in his presence.
He said, `I'll do what I can. I've a few questions of my own, too.'
Then with one hand to the oak-leaved peak of his cap and the unfamiliar feel of his sword in the other, he hurried down the brow where a car was shimmering in heathaze to carry him to the presence of the mighty.
But he was met by a harassed flag-lieutenant who hurried to explain that the admiral would not, after all, be able to see him. The F.O.I.C. had been whisked away to some important conference. It was one of those things. Unavoidable.
Lindsay spent a further twenty. minutes in a small room before the lieutenant reappeared to usher him into an adjoining office. The Chief of Staff came round a big desk and shook his hand.
`Sorry about this mix-up, Lindsay. Bad times. But I have no doubt you've seen enough of admirals anyway.' He smiled. `As I have.'
Lindsay took a proffered chair and watched him as he stared out of a window towards the harbour.
The other man said slowly, `Also, we've been waiting for instructions from Admiralty. Certain recommendations have been made, and it's my duty to inform you of them.' He turned and studied Lindsay thoughtfully.
`The war's speeding up. Increased submarine activity and long-range aircraft have made previous ideas obsolete. Almost overnight, in a manner of speaking.'
Lindsay tensed. He had been expecting a hint of orders, even acceptance of his own recommendations for some of Benbecula's company. But something in the Chief of Staff's tone, his attitude, seemed to act like a warning. He was troubled. No, he was embarrassed.
`My staff, are arranging your orders, Lindsay. But I think it best all round if you know without any more delay.' He sat down behind the desk and looked at his hands.
Benbecula will return to U.K. .as soon as the dockyard say she is seaworthy.'
Seaworthy. Not ready for action or patrol duty. She merely had to be able to make the passage home.
Lindsay asked tightly, `And then, sir?'
'Rosyth. I gather they want her as a sort of depot cum accommodation ship for incoming drafts, replacement personnel and so forth.' He flicked over some papers. `Your first lieutenant will be promoted to commander upon arrival there. He will also assume command from that time.' He tried to smile. `Bit of a rough diamond, I gather, but he should be all right for the job.' He dropped his eyes again. `It seems very likely that your promotion is already on its way here. I'm glad for you. Yo u've more than earned it.'
Lindsay felt as if the walls were moving inwards. Crushing the air from his lungs.
`And my appointment, sir?'
The Chief of Staff did not look up. `The Navy's growing every day. Recruits are flooding the depots like ants. We're having to cut courses rather than lengthen them, and they need the very best help they can get.' He plucked at the litter of papers. `I detest this job. I entered the Service to feel a ship around me. I know this work is important and I'm doing more good here than I would be on the bridge of some cruiser in Scapa Flow.' He shrugged. `But I still find it hard to take.' His eyes lifted to Lindsay's face and he added quietly, `As you will, at first.'
`Shore job?'
`They're putting the finishing touches to a new training depot on the east coast. Hasn't got a name yet, but I've no doubt their lordships will have dreamed up something grand by the tim
e you take command.'
Lindsay was on his feet without noticing he had moved from the chair. East coast. Shore job. Probably a peacetime holiday camp or hotel converted for training purposes. A white ensign on a flag mast. A ship's bell by the main gate. A temporary illusion for temporary sailors.
He said-, `I thought I was going to get......'
The Chief of Staff watched him sadly. `I know. You can appeal against the decision of course, but you know as well as I do what weight it will have.'
Lindsay crossed to the window and stared blindly at the courtyard below. He could see the new depot as if he had actually visited it already. Could almost hear voices saying, `The new captain? Oh yes, came to us because he's a bit bomb happy.'
Most of the officers who commanded such establishments were old, retired and brought back to the Navy to help spread the load. Men like Commodore Kemp.
He heard himself ask, `I take it this was Kemp's idea, sir?'
`You know I cannot discuss confidential reports.' The Chief of Staff added, `But you may draw your ownconclusions.'
`I will appeal.' He turned away from the window and saw the other man give a brief shake of the head.
`It is your privilege. However, as there is a war on, and on the face of things you are being given a just promotion, I think you should be warned against such a course of action.'
A telephone rang impatiently and the Chief of Staff snapped. `No. Wait.' He slammed it back before adding quietly, `I do not know Kemp very well. I would go further. I do not wish to know him very well. But from what I hear of him I would say he is not the sort who would act without apparent justification.'
Lindsay strode to the desk and leaned on it, his voice almost pleading. `But there must have been signals, sir? Some hint of all this?'
`Again, they are confidential. But there was a full report made to Admiralty.' He looked away. `Includingone from the staff medical officer.'
Lindsay straightened his back, sickened. He recalled the bearded surgeon with the wife who could not stop eating. Kemp must have planned the whole thing. Must have worked on his first dislike which their meeting at Scapa had begun.
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