Honour This Day

Haven looked around the cabin as if to seek an escape.

'He may be wrong, sir.'

Bolitho shrugged. 'I would not dare to disagree with him.'

But his attempt to lighten the tension was lost as Haven blurted out, 'If I am forced to withdraw, who will believe -'

Bolitho looked away to hide his disappointment. 'I will have new orders written for you. No blame will be laid at your door.'

Haven said, 'I was not suggesting it merely for my own benefit, sir!'

Bolitho sat down on the bench seat and tried not to think of all those other times when he had sat here. Hopes, plans, anxieties.

He said, 'I shall want thirty seamen from your company. I would prefer an officer whom they know to command them.'

Haven said instantly, 'May I suggest my first lieutenant, sir?'

Their eyes met. I thought you might. He nodded. 'Agreed.'

Calls trilled from the quarterdeck and Haven glanced at the door.

Bolitho said abruptly, 'I have not yet finished.' He tried to remain calm but Haven's behaviour was unnerving. 'If the enemy does throw a force against you there is no way that you can cover my withdrawal from La Guaira. '

Haven lifted his chin slightly. 'If you say so, Sir Richard.'

'I do. In which case you will assume command of the flotilla.'

'And may I ask what you would do, sir?'

Bolitho stood up.'What I came to do.' He sensed that Allday was waiting close by the door. Another argument, when he told him he was not coming over to Thor with him.

'Before you leave, Captain Haven.' He tried not to blink as the mist filtered persistently across his left eye. 'Do not have those men flogged. I cannot interfere, because everyone aboard would know that I had taken sides, as you already knew when you crossed swords with your senior in my presence.' He thought he saw Haven pale slightly. 'These people have little enough, God knows, and to see their messmates flogged before being ordered into battle can do nothing but harm. Loyalty is all-important, but remember that while you are under my flag, loyalty goes both ways.'

Haven backed away. 'I hope I know my duty, Sir Richard.'

'So do I. ' He watched the door close, then exclaimed, 'God damn him!'

But it was Jenour who entered, wiping tar from his fingers with a piece of rag.

He watched as if to gauge Bolitho's mood, and said, 'A fine view from up there. I have come to report that your signals have been made and acknowledged.' He glanced up as feet thudded overhead and voices echoed from the maindeck. 'We are about to change tack, Sir Richard.'

Bolitho barely heard. 'What is the matter with that man, eh?'

Jenour remarked, 'You have told him what you intend.'

Bolitho nodded. 'I'd have thought any captain would have jumped at the chance to cast his admiral adrift. I know I did.' He stared round the cabin, searching for ghosts. 'Instead, he thinks of nothing but-' He checked himself. It was unthinkable to discuss the flag captain with Jenour. Was he so isolated that he could find no other solace?

Jenour said simply, 'I am not so impertinent as to say what I think, Sir Richard.' He looked up and added, 'But I would stand by whatever you ordered me to do.'

Bolitho relaxed and clapped him on the shoulder. 'They say that faith can move a mountain, Stephen!'

Jenour stared. Bolitho had called him by name. It was probably a mistake.

Bolitho said, 'We will transfer to Thor before dusk. It must be smartly done, Stephen, for we have a long way to travel.'

It was not a mistake. Jenour seemed to glow. He stammered, 'Your coxswain is waiting outside, Sir Richard.' He watched as Bolitho strode across the cabin, then chilled as he cannoned into a chair which Haven must have moved.

'Are you all right, Sir Richard?' He fell back as Bolitho turned towards him. But this time there was no anger in his sensitive features. Bolitho said quietly, 'My eye troubles me a little. It is nothing. Now send in my cox'n.'

Allday walked past the lieutenant and said, 'I have to speak my piece, Sir Richard. When you goes across to that bomb,' he almost spat out the word, Til be beside you. Like always, an' I don't give a bugger, beggin' your pardon, Sir Richard.'

Bolitho retorted, 'You've been drinking, Allday.'

'A bit, sir. Just a few wets afore we leave the ship.' He put his head on one side like a shaggy dog. 'We will, won't we, sir?'

It came out surprisingly easily. 'Yes, old friend. Together. One more time.'

Allday regarded him gravely, sensing his despair. 'Wot is it, sir?'

'I nearly told that youngster, Jenour. Nearly came right out with it.' He was talking to himself aloud. 'That I'm terrified of going blind.'

Allday licked his lips. 'Young Mr Jenour looks on you as a bit of a hero, sir.'

'Not like you, eh?' But neither of them smiled.

Allday had not seen him like this for a long while, not since…

He cursed himself, took the blame for not being here when he was needed. It made him angry when he compared Haven with Captain Keen, or Herrick. He looked around the cabin where they had shared and lost so much together. Bolitho had nobody to share it with, to lessen the load. On the messdecks the Jacks thought the admiral wanted for nothing. By Jesus, that was just what he had. Nothing.

Allday said, 'I know it's not my place to say it, but -'

Bolitho shook his head. 'When did that ever stop you?'

Allday persisted, 'I don't know how to put it in officers' language like.' He took a deep breath. 'Cap'n Haven's wife is havin' a baby, probably dropped it by now, I shouldn't wonder.'

Bolitho stared at him. 'What of it, man?'

Allday tried not to release a deep breath of relief as he saw the impatience in Bolitho's grey eyes.

'He thinks that someone else may be the father, so to speak.'

Bolitho exclaimed, 'Well, even supposing -' He looked away, surprised, when he ought not to have been, at Allday's knowledge. 'I see.' It was not the first time. A ship in dock, a bored wife and a likely suitor. But it had taken Allday to put his finger on it.

Bolitho eyed him sadly. How could he leave him behind? What a pair. One so cruelly wounded by a Spanish sword thrust, the other slowly going blind.

He said, 'I shall write some letters.'

They looked at each other without speaking. Cornwall in late October. Grey sky, and rich hues of fallen leaves. Chipping-hammers in the fields where farmers took time to repair their walls and fences. The elderly militia drilling in the square outside the cathedral where Bolitho had been married.

Allday moved away towards Ozzard's pantry. He would ask the little man to write a letter for him to the innkeeper's daughter in Falmouth, though God alone knew if she would ever get it.

He thought of Lady Belinda and the time they had found her in the overturned coach. And of the one named Catherine who might still harbour feelings for Bolitho. A fine-looking woman, he thought, but a lot of trouble. He grinned. A sailor's woman, no matter what airs and graces she hoisted at her yards. And if she was right for Bolitho, that was all that mattered.

Alone at his table Bolitho drew the paper towards him and watched the sunlight touch the pen like fire.

In his mind he could see the words as he had written them before. 'My dearest Belinda.'

At noon he went on deck for his walk, and when Ozzard entered the cabin to tidy things he saw the paper with the pen nearby. Neither had been used.

6. 'In War There Are No Neutrals

The transfer from Hyperion to the bomb-vessel Thor was carried out just before sunset, without mishap. Men and weapons with extra powder and shot were ferried across, the boats leaping and then almost disappearing between the crests of a deep swell.