“We’re through.” Collins looked at the situation plot with unalloyed pleasure. The chaos of the night battle was falling behind. Warspite, Neptune and Orion, plus the two remaining British destroyers, slugged it out with what was left of the Italian escort. Sydney and Perth, along with five Australian destroyers, were past that battle and racing towards the merchant ships, who were undoubtedly scattering. The task left was simple; hunting the merchant ships down, one by one, and sinking them.
This isn’t a battle; this will be an execution, Collins thought. He wished, for a moment, he and his ships were back in the fight with the escort, facing a real enemy that could defend itself.
“Captain, Waterhen reports she has sighted one of the merchant ships and is firing torpedoes.” There was no need to report a location; off to port, torpedoes exploded against a darkened hull. “And a message from Warspite, sir. The enemy transports are to the west and south of us and we are to form our movements accordingly.”
And so it starts. Collins thought grimly. Twenty-plus defenseless merchant ships loaded with men and supplies being hunted down by two cruisers and five destroyers. This will be bloody. Then he glanced down just in time to see the chronometer click past midnight and in to the next day.
“Merry Christmas, everybody.”
“Rachael, could you come into the kitchen for a moment please?” May Newton stuck her head around the kitchen door, smiling to herself when she saw her son’s guest hastily move a little further away from him. The two women went into the kitchen where the smell of dinner cooking dominated everything else. “I just wanted to show you what we have for Christmas dinner in case there’s anything that will cause you problems. We’ve got vegetable soup to start off with, followed by a chicken with vegetables from Ernie’s allotment and the nearest we could get to a Christmas pudding. I made sure there’s no pork in anything, but I didn’t know what else to look out for. We’ve never had a Jew in the house before.”
“That sounds delicious. You got a chicken? In spite of rationing?” Rachael was impressed.
“Ernie got a load of brussel sprouts and potatoes from his allotment, so we traded them for a chicken. There’s a lot of trading like that going on in small villages like this. Black market, some people call it. We just say we’re going down to the corner. Oh, there’s stuffing for the chicken as well. Bread mixed with onions and chopped-up carrots.” May Newton had left the sausage out of the stuffing in deference to her guest’s religion.
“Could I help you out here?” Rachael was aware that her status as a guest was causing a burden on these people, but she’d been unable to go back down to her parents in London and didn’t want to spend the holiday alone in Nottingham. David Newton’s invitation to come for Christmas dinner had been a blessing in more ways than one.
“If you could help me carry out, that would be wonderful. Mind your dress, though; who knows when clothes will come off the ration.”
The chicken worked out perfectly. David Newton and his father had a leg each, while Rachael and May Newton shared the wings and breast. The bird may have ‘come off the ration,’ but the attitudes generated by rationing and shortages still applied. The chicken was picked clean. Halfway through the meal, Ernie Newton asked a question his son had been quietly dreading.
“Decided who to vote for if there’s another election, Rachael?” David knew that Rachael was either a communist or a very radical socialist. His father was a local Conservative councillor. He could see the prospect for a major argument looming, but Rachael just shook her head sadly. “I could never vote for That Man, after what he did.”
“Aye, there’s a lot around here who think that way. Farmers are conservative folk but they can’t stomach what That Man did. There’ll be many voting Liberal, or even Labour, next election.
Three hours later, the food had been eaten and presents exchanged. It was an austere Christmas; the exchange of gifts had tended towards the severely practical. May Newton gave her husband a spade for his allotment. David Newton had managed to find a box of scented soaps for Rachael. The two women were in the kitchen clearing up, while Newton and his father had quiet drink together. It was the first time that David Newton had been invited to have a whisky with his father.
“That’s a good girl you got there. I’ll be honest, lad; your mother and I were a bit worried when you said you were walking out with a Jewess, but now that we’ve met her, we can see how nice she is.” Ernie Newton was reflective and a little hesitant. “Look, son, man-to-man. Since your brother’s away in North Africa, we’ll put Rachael in his room tonight. There’ll be no creeping around after dark, will there? That would upset your mother.”
“Rachael’s a good Jewish girl, Dad. Very old-fashioned in some ways. You and Mum have nothing to worry about.”
“Glad to hear it. Like I said, you’ve got yourself a nice girl there. Now, call your mother and her in and we’ll listen to the King’s Speech. Or, rather, what That Man will let the King say.”
“Merry Christmas, Mister Secretary.” The Ambassador entered Cordell Hull’s suite at the Oriental Hotel with some brightly-wrapped packages in her arms. “We are all so sorry you are spending the festival away from your family, but we hope it is some consolation that your sacrifices will be of benefit to both our countries.”
Hull watched as she unloaded the presents on the side table. “I didn’t know Buddhist people celebrated Christmas?”
“We don’t, not as a religious event. But, we are a hedonistic people. For us, a good excuse to have a party is not to be wasted.” She hesitated for a moment before continuing. “And we like to give presents to people. By spreading some joy, we make merit for ourselves and thus improve our status in our next lives.”
“May I open my gifts now?” Hull was actually nonplussed by the situation. He was well aware that he was regarded as a hostile party by the Thais and honest enough to admit they had good cause to adopt that position. “I am afraid I didn’t think to get any gifts for people here.”
“Please go ahead. And do not concern yourself; this is a day for merriment. All over the country, people will be going to visit their friends and gathering in the market places to exchange small gifts and greetings. If you wish, we can go and visit a local market where you can try out some of our local delicacies. Those who own stalls serving food will be making a special effort today.”
The Ambassador looked pointedly at a seat and Hull reprimanded himself for undiplomatic discourtesy. I don’t trust this woman, but rudeness will achieve nothing.
“Please take a seat, Madam Ambassador. You have been most kind; I really don’t know what to say. May I offer you some refreshments? I can send down for some.”