Hungry as the Sea

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Hungry as the Sea Page 29

by Wilbur Smith


  table, together with a book, Noel Mostert's Supership, opened face down

  and in dire danger of a broken spine; the cupboard door was open and his

  suits had been bunched up in one corner to give hanging space to her

  slacks and dresses; two very erotic and transparent pairs of panties

  hung over the bath to dry; her talcum powder still dusted the tiled

  floor and her special fragrance pervaded the entire apartment.

  He missed her with a physical ache in the chest, so that when the front

  door banged and she arrived like a high wind, shouting for him,

  "Nicholas, it's me" as though it could possibly have been anyone else,

  her hair tangled and wild with the wind and high colour under the golden

  tan of her cheeks, he almost ran to her and seized her with a suppressed

  violence.

  Wow/ she whispered huskily. Who is a hungry baby, then. And they

  tumbled on to the bed clinging to each other with a need that was almost

  desperation.

  Afterwards they did not turn the light on in the room that had gone dark

  except for the dim light of the street lamps filtered by the curtains

  and reflected off the ceiling.

  What was that all about? she asked, then snuggled against his chest,

  not that I'm complaining, mind you. I've had a hell of a day.

  I needed you, badly. You saw Duncan Alexander? I saw Duncan. Did you

  settle? No. There was never really any chance. I'm hungry/ she said.

  Your loving always makes me hungry. So he put on his pants and went

  down to the Italian restaurant at the corner for pizzas. They ate them

  in bed with a white Chianti from whisky tumblers, and when she was

  finished, she sighed and said: Nicholas, I have to go home. You can't

  go/ he protested instantly.

  I have work to do - also. But/ he felt a physical nausea at the thought

  of losing her, but you can't go before the hearing. Why not? It would

  be the worst possible luck, you are my fortune. A sort of good-luck

  charm? She pulled a face. Is that all I'm good for? You are good for

  many things. May I demonstrate one of them? 'Oh, yes please. An hour

  later Nick went for more pizzas.

  You have to stay until the 27th/he said with his mouth full.

  Darling Nicholas, I just don't know You can ring them, tell them your

  aunt died, that you are getting married. Even if I were getting

  married, it wouldn't lessen the importance of my work. I think you know

  that is something I will never give up. Yes, I do know, but it's only a

  couple of days more. All right, I'll call Tom Parker tomorrow. Then

  she grinned at him. Don't look like that. I'll be just across the

  Atlantic, we'll be virtually next-door neighbours. 'Call him now. It's

  lunchtime in Florida. She spoke for twenty minutes, wheedling and

  charming, while the blood-curdling transatlantic rumblings on the

  receiver slowly muted to reluctant and resigned mutterings.

  You're going to get me into trouble one of these days, Nicholas Berg/she

  told him primly as she hung up.

  Now there is a happy thought/Nick agreed, and she hit him with her

  pillow.

  The telephone rang at two minutes past nine the next morning. They were

  in the bath together and Nicholas swore and went through naked and

  steaming and dripping suds.

  Mr. Berg? James Teacher's voice was sharp and businesslike. You were

  right, Christy Marine petitioned for postponement of hearing late

  yesterday afternoon. How long? Nicholas snapped.

  Ninety days. The bastard/grunted Nick. What grounds? They want time

  to prepare their submission. Block them/Nick instructed.

  I have a meeting with the Secretary at eleven. I'm going to ask for an

  immediate preliminary hearing to set down and confirm the return date.

  Get him before the arbitrators/ said Nick.

  We'll get him. Samantha welcomed him back to the tub by drawing her

  knees up under her chin. Her hair was piled on top of her head, but

  damp wisps hung down her neck and on to her cheeks. She looked pink and

  dewy as a little girl.

  Careful where you put your toes, sir/ she cautioned him, and he felt the

  tension along his nerves easing. She had that effect on him.

  I'll buy you lunch at Les A if you can tear yourself away from your

  microscope and fishy-smelling specimens for an hour or two. Les

  Ambassadeurs? I've heard about it! For lunch there I'd walk across

  London on freshly amputated stumps. That won't be necessary, but you

  will have to charm a tribe of wild desert Sheikhs. I understand they

  are very sympathetic towards blondes. Are you going to sell me into a

  harem - sounds fun, I've always fancied myself in baggy, transparent

  bloomers. You, I'm not selling - icebergs, I am. I'll pick you up at

  the front gate of the museum at one o'clock sharp. She went with

  laughter and a great clatter and banging of doors and Nicholas settled

  at the telephone.

  I'd like to speak to Sir Richard personally, it's Nicholas Berg. Sir

  Richard was at Lloyd's, an old and good friend.

  Then he called and spoke to Charles Gras There were no new delays or

  threats to Sea Witch's completion date.

  I am sorry for any trouble you had with Alexander. Cq the fait rien,

  Nicholas. Good luck at the hearing. I will be watching the Lloyd's

  List. Nicholas felt a sense of relief. Charles Gras had risked his

  career to show him Golden Dawn. it could have been serious.

  Then Nick spoke for nearly half an hour to Bernard Wackie of Bach Wackie

  in Bermuda. Warlock had reported on the telex two hours previously; she

  was making good passage with her oil-rig tow, would drop off at Bravo 11

  on schedule and pick up her next tow as soon as she had anchored.

  David Allen is a good youngster, Bernard told Nick.

  But have you got Levoisin for Sea Witch? Jules is playing the prima

  donna, he has not said yes, but he'll come. You'll have a good team,

  then. What's the latest date for Sea Witch? End March. The sooner the

  better, I've got contacts to keep both tugs running hard until the

  iceberg project matures. I'm having lunch with the Sheikhs today. I

  know. There's a lot of interest. I've got a good feeling.

  There is something big brewing, but they are a cagey bunch. The

  inscrutable smile on the face of the sphiinx when do we see you? 'I'll

  come across just as soon as I've got Duncan Alexander into the

  arbitration court - end of the month, hopefully. We've got a lot to

  talk about, Nicholas. Nick hesitated for the time it took to smoke the

  first cheroot of the day before he called Monte Carlo - for the call

  would cost him at least fifty thousand dollars, probably closer to

  seventy-five, The best is always the cheapest, he reminded himself,

  picked up the receiver and spoke to a secretary in Monte Carlo, giving

  his name, While he waited for the connection he thought how his life was

  complicating itself once more. Very soon Bach Wackie would not be

  enough, there would have to be a London branch of Ocean Salvage,

  offices, secretaries, files, accounts, and then a New York branch, a

  branch in Saudi, the whole cycle again. He thought suddenly of

  Samantha, uncluttered and simple happin
ess, life without its wearisome

  trappings - then the connection was made and he heard the thin, high,

  almost feminine voice.

  Mr. Berg - Claud Lazarus. No other greeting, no expressions of pleasure

  at the renewal of contact. Nick imagined him sitting at his desk in the

  suite high above the harbour, like a human foetus - preserved in

  spirits, bottled on the museum shelf. The huge bald domed head, the

  soft putty-coloured rudimentary features, the nose hardly large enough

  to support the thick spectacles. The eyes distorted and startled by the

  lens, changing shape like those of a fish in an aquarium as the light

  moved. The body underdeveloped, as that of a foetus , narrow shoulders,

  seemingly tapering away to the bowed question mark of a body.

  Mr. Lazarus. Are you in a position to undertake an indepth study for

  me? It was the euphemism for financial and industrial espionage; Claud

  Lazarus network was not limited by frontiers or continents, it spanned

  the globe with delicately probing tentacles.

  Of course/ he piped softly.

  I want the financial structuring, the lines of control and management,

  the names of the nominees and their principals, the location and

  inter-relationship of all the elements of the Christy Marine Group and

  London European Insurance and Banking Co. Group, with particular

  reference to any changes in structure during the previous fourteen

  months. Do you have that? This is being recorded, Mr. Berg. 'Of

  course. Further, I want the country of registration, the insurers and

  underwriters of all bottoms traceable to their holdings. Please

  continue. I want an accurate estimate of the reserves of London and

  European Insurance in relations to their potential liability., Continue.

  I am particularly interested in the vessel Golden Dawn presently

  building at the yards of Construction Navale Atlantique at St Nazaire. I

  want to know if she has been chartered or has contracted with any oil

  company for carriage of crude and, if so, on what routes and at what

  rates. Yes? Lazarus squeaked softly.

  Time is of the essence - and, as always, so is discretion. You need not

  have mentioned that, Mr. Berg. My contact, when you are ready to pass

  information, is Back Wacky in Bermuda. I will keep you informed of

  progress. Thank you, Mr. Lazarus. Good day, Mr. Berg. It was

  refreshing not to have to pretend to be the bosom comrade of somebody

  who supplied essentials but nonetheless revolted him, Nick thought, and

  comforting to know he had the best man in the world for the job.

  He looked at his watch. It was lunchtime, and he felt the quick lift of

  his spirits at the thought of being with Samantha.

  Lime Street is a narrow alleyway, with tall buildings down each side of

  it, which opens off Leadenhall Street. A few yards from the junction,

  on the left hand side as you leave the street of shipping, is the

  covered entrance to Lloyd's of London.

  Nicholas stepped out of James Teacher's Bentley and took Samantha on his

  arm. He paused a moment, with a feeling of certain reverence, As a

  seaman, the history of this remarkable institution touched him

  intimately. Not that the building itself was particularly old or

  venerable. Nothing now remained of the original coffee house, except

  some of the traditions: the caller who intoned the brokers names like

  the offertory in the temple of some exotic religion, the stalls in which

  the underwriters conducted their business and the name and uniform of

  the institution's servants, the waiters with brass buttons and red

  collar tabs.

  Rather it was the tradition of concern that was enshrined here, the

  concern for ships and for all men who went down to the sea in those

  ships and did their business in great waters.

  Perhaps later, Nicholas would find time to take Samantha through the

  Nelson rooms and show her the displays of memorabilia associated with

  the greatest of Britain's sailors, the plate and letters and awards.

  Certainly he would have her as lunch guest in the big dining-room, at

  the table set aside specifically for visiting sea captains.

  But now there were more important considerations to demand all his

  attention. He had come to hear the verdict given on his future - within

  a few hours he would know just how high and how fast the wave of his

  fortune had carried him.

  Come/ he said to Samantha, and led her up the short flight of steps into

  the lobby, where there was a waiter alerted to receive them.

  We will be using the Committee Room today, sir. The earlier submissions

  by both parties had been heard in one of the smaller offices, leading

  off the high gallery above the vast floor of the exchange with its rows

  of underwriters stalls. However, due to the extraordinary nature of

  this action, the Committee of Lloyd's had made a unique decision - to

  have their arbitrators give their findings and make their award in

  surroundings more in keeping with the importance of the occasion.

  They rode up in silence, all of them too tense to make the effort of

  small-talk. and the waiter led them down the wide corridor, past the

  Chairman's suite of offices and through the double doors into the

  grandeur of the room designed by Adam for Bowood House, the country home

  of the Marquess of Lansdowne. It had been taken to pieces, panel by

  panel, floor, ceiling, fireplace and plaster mouldings, transported to

  London and re-erected in its entirety with such care and attention that

  when Lord Lansdowne inspected it, he found that the floorboards squeaked

  in exactly the same places as they had before.

  At the long table, under the massive glittering pyramids of the three

  chandeliers, the two arbitrators were already seated. Both of them were

  master mariners, selected for their deep knowledge and experience of the

  sea, and their faces were toughened and leathery from the effects of sea

  and salt water. They talked quietly together, without acknowledging in

  any way the rows of quietly attentive faces in the rows of chairs facing

  them - until the minute hand of the antique clock on the Adam fireplace

  touched its zenith. Then the President of the court looked across at

  the waiter who obediently closed the double doors and stood to attention

  before them.

  This Arbitration Court has been set up under the Committee of Lloyd's

  and empowered to receive evidence in the matter between the Christy

  Marine Steamship Co. Ltd.

  and the Ocean Salvage and Towage Co. Ltd. This Court finds common

  ground in the following areas Firstly, a contract of salvage under

  Lloyd's Open Form "No cure no pay" for the recovery of the passenger

  liner Golden Adventurer, a ship of .22,000 tons gross burden and

  registered at Southampton, exists between the parties.

  Secondly, that the Master of the Golden Adventurer while steaming on a

  south-westerly heading during the night of December 16th at or near 72

  16 south and 32 12 west - The President let no dramatics intrude on his

  assembly of the facts. He recounted it all in the driest possible

  terms, succeeding in making Golden Adventurer's plight and t
he desperate

  endeavours of her rescuers sound boring. indeed, his colleague seemed

  to descend into a condition of coma at the telling of it. His eyes

  slowly closed, and his head sagged gently sideways, his lips vibrating

  slightly at each breath - a volume not quite sufficient to make it a

  snore.

  It took nearly an hour, with the occasional consultation of the ship's

  log books and a loose volume of hand-written and typed notes, before the

  President was satisfied that he had recounted all the facts, and now he

  rocked back in his chair and hooked his thumbs into his waistcoat. His

  expression became decisive, and while he surveyed the crowded room, his

  colleague stirred, opened his eyes, took out a white linen handkerchief

  and blew two sharp blasts, one for each nostril, like the herald angel

  sounding the crack of doom.

  There was a stir of reawakened interest, they all recognized the moment

  of decision, and for the first time Duncan Alexinder and Nicholas Berg

  looked directly at each other over the heads of the lawyers and company

  men. Neither of them changed expression, no smile nor scowl, but

  something implacable and clearly understood passed between them. They

  did not unlock their gaze, until the President began to speak again.

  Taking into consideration the foregoing, this Court is of the firm

  opinion that a fair and good salvage of the vessel was effected by the

  salvors, and that therefore, they are entitled to salvage awards

  commensurate with the services rendered to the owners and underwriters.

  Nicholas felt Samantha's fingers groping for his. He took her hand, and

  it was slim and cold and dry; he interlocked their fingers and laid

  their hands upon his upper thigh.

  This Court, in arriving at the value of the salvor's services, has taken

  into consideration, firstly, the situation and conditions existing on

  the site of operations. We have heard evidence that much of the work

  was carried out in extreme weather conditions. Temperatures of thirty

  degrees below freezing, wind forces exceeding twelve on the Beaufort

  scale, and extreme icing.

  We have also considered that the vessel Golden Adventurer was no longer

  under command. That she had been abandoned by her passengers, her crew

  and her Master. She was aground on a remote and hostile coast.

  We have further noted that the salvors undertook a voyage of many

 

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