Toby had called her two days ago but had been unable to meet her. Or was he trying to make it easier for her?
He had mentioned but barely touched on the favour he had carried out for some Chinese businessman, the one with the daughter. She had pressed him further but he had replied, ‘When I see you. I’d like to tell you. Explain. It would help.’
She stared hard across the water until her eyes blurred. He was over there. Was he thinking of her? Was there any point in it?
It was strange. Most of the girls she knew in the Wrens seemed so worldly, able to deal with everything. And yet she had been married, and still felt like the novice.
There was a knock at the door and someone strode into the adjoining room without waiting for an answer.
Ruth Shelley was a senior sister at the military hospital. She had a brusque, offhand manner, but had gone out of her way to make the young Wren comfortable.
‘God, look at you! The life of Riley, you naval people seem to have!’
She came out into the sunshine and regarded the harbour grimly. Tall and dark, with a strong sort of beauty which even a severe uniform could not disguise.
‘Another few months and it’s back to Blighty for me, my girl.’
‘Don’t you like it here? I think it’s heaven!’
‘There are better things to do. You’ll soon find out if you stay here. Horny majors, just glad to get away from their dull wives so that they can have a bit on the side, and pink-faced subalterns looking for a mummy-substitute or a favourite spaniel!’ She looked at her directly. ‘God, girl, I’ve shocked you!’
Sue Yorke could feel her cheeks stinging and was angry that she was so easy to unsettle and embarrass.
‘I suppose I’m not used to . . .’
The tall sister reached over for a towel. ‘Not used to the heat either. I thought you might be here, trying to get a tan before you go home. Believe me, you’ll get more than you bargain for if you don’t take care of yourself.’ She produced a yellow bottle and shook it vigorously. ‘Lie down again. I’ll do it.’
Sue lay face down and waited for her blushes to leave her in peace. She felt the towel drying her shoulders and spine, the firmness of it somehow soothing.
‘Raise up.’ She probably spoke to her patients like that.
Sue obediently raised her stomach and felt the swimsuit dragged down her back and beneath her.
Cool drops of ointment, and then a slow, steady massage.
‘Still wearing his ring, then?’
The girl had kept the wedding ring on a thin chain around her neck. A reminder? Or was it a protection from something else?
When she remained silent, the sister named Ruth said, ‘I was nearly married once, y’know. Wouldn’t think it, I suppose.’ She chuckled and rubbed the ointment into her shoulders. It was a sad sound.
Sue said, ‘What was he like?’
‘Like?’ The question seemed to take her aback. ‘A lieutenant in the H.L.I. You know what they say about the light infantry, carry their brains between their legs, eh?’
Sue pressed her face into the towel. Was she embarrassed again? She was surprised that she was not even shocked. If anything she was suddenly sorry for this hard-talking nursing sister.
‘It didn’t work anyway.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Why should you be? You’ll forget what I said once you’re through that door.’
She was working on her legs now and Sue was secretly pleased that she had shaved them that day.
‘And what about you? Seeing some jolly jack, I hear?’
She half rolled over and exclaimed hotly, ‘He’s not! I – I mean, it’s not like that!’
She stared down at her bare breasts and tried to find the towel. Ruth Shelley rolled her on to her back as easily as she would a weak child.
‘I’ve seen tits before, my girl.’
Mesmerised, Sue watched while she applied more ointment, strong, powerful and yet for once quite gentle.
‘Lie still, let your breathing calm down – close your eyes if you like. I’ll go away right now if that’s what you want?’
Sue pressed her eyes shut. It was suddenly important that she should stay.
She allowed the rhythm to flow over her, muscle by muscle, until there was something else, but again she was not shocked. She said in a small voice, ‘I want him so much. We seem right for each other – I don’t really understand why. He’s a hero, a V.C. I’m, well, just a secretary, no matter what the uniform says!’
Just for an instant the hands stopped moving. One rested on her stomach, the other just touching her left breast.
Then she felt the hands moving her on her side, facing the sea again.
Over her bare shoulder Ruth said, ‘Nobody can see you like this.’ Again the forced chuckle. ‘Except maybe some of the pilots flying out of Kai Tak Airport!’
Sue heard her drying her hands. Then she said, ‘If that’s how it is, my girl, don’t fight it. You’ve a lot to offer him!’
Then she bent over her and kissed her cheek as if it was something precious. Sue imagined she could feel her unsteady breathing as she whispered, ‘Now you know what went wrong with my marriage.’
For a long time after Ruth Shelley had gone Sue sat on the sunbed and let the sun explore where those hands had moved. Then she touched herself and tried to understand what had changed.
Aloud she said, ‘Third Officer Yorke, you’re growing up at last.’ She smiled shakily. ‘My girl!’
14
Unlikely Event
It was October when Commander Jeremy Brooke, Royal Navy, returned to Hong Kong. As he walked unhurriedly to Kai Tak’s reception area to await the arrival of his luggage he glanced around, not surprised but depressed by the apparent lack of security.
He saw two of the Royal Air Force fighter planes revving up noisily, watched as usual through the wire fence by a cluster of local children. He thought of the dog-fights in the clear skies above Dover and the Channel. Aircraft like these would not last ten minutes in England.
There was a staff car outside the baggage area and he automatically smoothed the creases from his uniform. England, Australia and New Zealand, by sea and in hedge-hopping planes little bigger than the two on the runway. He made a point of never showing tiredness, just as he rarely hurried. It might be mistaken for urgency or strain.
Now he was back in Hong Kong. The humid air, the smells he had come to know so well on other visits, the perpetual movement of people, were like a welcome.
His admiral had briefed him on what he had to do. Like the grim posters in England. If the Invader comes. Jeremy’s mouth turned down. He was not going to be popular, not with the top brass anyway.
He crossed to a window and stood directly beneath a revolving fan. Perhaps Serpent was in harbour? He examined his feelings about meeting his brother again as he might skim through a despatch or signal. It annoyed him to realise that there was only envy, where by rights there should be none. It was even more irritating to realise that Esmond did not feel the same way about him. Even before he had been given the old Serpent he had been just the same. Not content; he was always too driven for that luxury.
He saw a porter carrying his bags and said, ‘Staff car. Outside.’ He clenched his fists and waited for his temper to settle.
Even Sarah was different since the arrival of their son: a tiny, wrinkled thing which either slept or cried the house down. Sarah was an intelligent, charming girl, with looks to turn any man’s head, but since the child she had gone through a complete change, cooing and gloating at every sound and function her child performed. The other officers’ wives were much the same, although Jeremy had never believed it could happen to her.
‘Commander Brooke, sir?’
He swung round, knocked off-balance by the girl’s voice.
‘Er, yes.’ He stared at the small Wren third officer. ‘You were expecting me?’
She smiled. ‘A signal, sir.’ But her eyes suggested of course we were.
She could almost feel his eyes exploring her. She asked lightly, ‘How was Sydney?’
‘Getting hotter.’ He looked across the anchorage. Still many ships here, but not many grey hulls.
He said, ‘Didn’t know there were any Wrens in H.K.’ It came out like an accusation.
She smiled. ‘There aren’t. Just me. Here on sufferance. I’m with Brigadier Sexton.’
‘Oh. Of course.’
She glanced at his profile. Not all that much like Toby’s commanding officer in looks, and not at all in manner.
He asked abruptly, ‘Is Serpent alongside?’
It was her turn to be startled, but he was too engrossed in his thoughts to notice.
‘Er – no, sir. She’s been on escort duty.’ She remembered her dismay when Toby had telephoned her.
She had exclaimed, ‘I might not be here when you come in again!’
He had been silent on the other end of the line. Her outburst had revealed her feelings better than any private letter.
Then he had said quietly, ‘I need to see you again.’ Such a small voice, she had afterwards thought. A man with the Victoria Cross, whose exploits her father had pasted in his war book. If only she had been with him after it happened. She would have held him, given him comfort . . .
The next morning she had been up at dawn, some borrowed binoculars close to hand, but she had not needed them to see that the old destroyer’s berth was empty.
Jeremy said, ‘I’d like to see the brigadier as soon as I’ve changed.’
‘I can fix a meeting for this afternoon, sir.’
Jeremy relaxed slightly. An obstacle. It always made him feel better. He could recall a line in a play they had performed at Dartmouth Royal Naval College. He had been a Cavalier, in long boots and a plumed hat.
When challenged by a smaller walk-on part he had swirled his hat in the air and proclaimed, ‘It will not wait. I am on the King’s business!’
He said calmly, ‘It will have to be sooner than that, I’m afraid. What’s your name, by the way?’
She was just beginning to wonder where the brigadier might be, or whether he had yet set off for the golf course.
The commander’s attitude was beginning to annoy her. ‘Third Officer Yorke, sir.’
He smiled. Another challenge.
‘Am I booked into the Pen?’
‘Yes, sir. I can ring up H.Q. from there while you’re . . .’
He said, ‘No. Take the car yourself.’ He looked at her directly. ‘This is top secret, Third Officer Yorke. Even a whisper would go right across the New Territories and Victoria in minutes. I know – I used to spread news I wanted people to hear in that very bar!’
She faced him and asked simply, ‘Is it very bad, sir?’
He felt a new excitement. She was worried about something. Somebody more likely, with her looks.
‘Don’t worry. Whatever happens it won’t affect you.’
She stared out of the opposite window. When Toby got back she might not be here to comfort him. To help him break the curse that was destroying him.
It won’t affect you. Patronising and arrogant. She had seen him looking at her legs, and at the way her damp shirt was clinging to her breasts. Well, let him look, damn him! She recalled the new confidence which Sister Ruth Shelley’s massage had given her. No blushing or confusion. When she had been in training she had been appalled by the way some of her classmates had strolled about their quarters quite nude without any sort of embarrassment. Sure of themselves? Or had it really been some kind of defiance?
Jeremy asked casually, ‘Have you met Charles Yeung while you’ve been here?’
‘Yes. I was at the reception given for my boss at Repulse Bay.’ She glanced at him. Toby had mentioned that this man had married his C.O.’s fiancée, and there was some rumour about him and that Chinese girl as well.
She thought of Ruth Shelley’s comment, which had shocked her. A bit on the side. Was that what Commander Brooke was after? Handsome, mysterious, conceited. Used to having his own way.
She said, ‘Here we are, sir. The Pen.’
It was not lost on him. ‘I’ll see you in an hour, right?’
She leaned back and waited for the porters to remove his luggage.
She smiled. ‘Right!’
Commodore Cedric Stallybrass glanced around his flagship’s wardroom and said heavily, ‘I think we are ready to begin.’ He looked questioningly at his secretary. ‘Yes?’
The secretary responded hastily, ‘All personnel cleared from aft, sir. Sentries mounted.’
Stallybrass grunted. ‘A bit over the top maybe, but . . .’
He turned towards Commander Jeremy Brooke, who was tapping a cigarette on a slim gold case while he waited for permission to smoke.
It was hot and oppressive in the wardroom, the only place large enough to accommodate this gathering. Members of the dockyard’s senior staff, the commanding officers of the remaining ships in harbour, including the flotilla leader Islip’s bearded captain, Ralph Tufnell, the S.N.O. of the motor torpedo boats, and some old China hands who skippered the elderly force of Yangtze and East River gunboats.
The door opened silently and the Chief-of-Staff, Captain Albert Granville, made a quietly apologetic entrance.
The commodore beamed at him. ‘Now we are all here, eh, Bertie?’
Several of them laughed, but most were watching the elegant commander from the Department of Naval Intelligence.
Jeremy did not stand up. ‘I am not going to make a speech, gentlemen.’ He smiled briefly at Stallybrass. ‘We have heard or read more than enough of those lately. I am not even going to offer any opinions.’
Someone said, ‘Good show!’
Jeremy’s glance passed over the offender as if he were a stain on the carpet.
‘The fact is that, whatever the outcome of what lies immediately ahead of us, Hong Kong, and Kowloon to a lesser extent, will be a fortress, closed to all comers. There are, however, precautions to be taken, and without delay. In the unlikely event of an attack on Hong Kong by an enemy, who for the purpose of this review must remain nameless, all unmilitary personnel will be evacuated. Measures are in hand as I sit here . . .’
Stallybrass exclaimed, ‘I say, Bertie, did you know about this?’
The Chief-of-Staff shook his actor’s mane of hair and replied, ‘Up to a point. But as the possibility of such an action coming to pass is, as Commander Brooke has been quick to point out, unlikely, I think we should take it one step at a time.’
Jeremy contained a smile. Bertie’s reply was meaningless.
He cleared his throat. ‘As I was saying, gentlemen, evacuated. Wives and families, dependants, will be escorted by sea to Australia.’ He had their full attention now. ‘Heavy casualties would otherwise be inevitable. My admiral has stated that the Prime Minister intends the Colony to stand firm and to await reinforcements. Major units of the fleet are already being sent to Singapore, where they will be better placed for our mutual defence and for any future offensive.’ He was aware of their intent expressions. ‘Top Secret, gentlemen!’
Stallybrass snapped, ‘They do not have to be told!’
He fell silent as Jeremy turned cold eyes upon him. ‘There will be a bloodbath if there is any hint of retreat!’
It was easy to deflate Stallybrass. He recalled his admiral looking down from his window in Whitehall. Air-raid shelters, policemen in steel helmets, sandbags outside the Admiralty. At least they were doing something, or trying to. There had been flowers in the park, too.
His admiral had said, ‘Stallybrass will go down with his flag flying if so ordered. You will have to tread carefully. He is a very stupid man.’
Jeremy said, ‘Most of our troops here were envied when they were sent to Hong Kong. Some have, apart from basic training, pe
rformed only guard duty. If we are attacked they will not be envied for long.’ He looked sharply at Commander Tufnell. ‘Yes?’
Tufnell did not flinch. ‘Why should this “enemy” attack us? We’ve taken pains to keep out of their war.’
‘Why, indeed? If we knew all the answers . . .’ He became business-like again. ‘The fact is, we must prepare. Be ready.’ He judged the right moment. You could have heard a pin drop. ‘There is another possibility. That the defences could not hold out.’
There were gasps of astonishment and anger, as he knew there would be.
He continued unhurriedly, ‘In which case, all vessels that could be used by an enemy must be destroyed or rendered useless. Dockyard facilities, stores, ammunition. It would be a final act before . . .’
Tufnell stood up, his eyes blazing. ‘Surrender? Is that what you’re preparing for? If so . . .’
Jeremy turned to the commodore. ‘I said at the start, it is not a suggestion. But decisions have to be made. It is, I appreciate, a great responsibility for you, sir.’
Stallybrass puffed out his cheeks. ‘I am ready to accept it, and more. It will not come to this, but I must agree that the safety of our people is of paramount importance!’
Jeremy nodded. ‘Quite so, sir.’ The thought of offending somebody in high places had been enough to change Stallybrass’s mind. Jeremy asked casually, ‘When is Serpent due back?’
‘Two days’ time.’ The commodore was very preoccupied.
‘I see.’ It would be interesting to gauge his brother’s reactions.
He looked around at their grim, hostile faces. Most of them had been in Hong Kong for a long time, at least since the outbreak of war.
And not one of them had noticed anything, or at least, if they had, thought it important enough to pass on. And yet, to the Intelligence people in Whitehall even the tiniest fragment fitted into the overall picture. An increase in Japanese fleet movements in the Pacific, and the biggest build-up of troops on the Chinese mainland just across the border from the New Territories. And much smaller pieces. Japanese residents of Hong Kong were suddenly leaving the Colony, the hairdressing salons and massage parlours, the bars which were regularly used by British officers were being left abandoned. Nobody, it seemed, had thought it unusual. If only one Japanese in twenty was a spy, they would have enough information to open the gates from within.
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