Seeing Lindsay and the others he threw up a stiff salute which was returned with equal formality by Kemp’s lieutenant.
The German made as if to speak but Lindsay turned away until he heard the footsteps recede down the brow.
He heard the lieutenant say testily, ‘That man over there! Don’t you know you should stand to attention when an officer passes, enemy or not?’
That man there was unfortunately Fraser. Hatless, his — boiler suit almost black from a recent inspection in the bilges, he was leaning against a ventilator shaft, his slight body bowed with fatigue. He stood up very slowly and stared at the angryy lieutenant.
‘One, I don’t salute any bastard who’s been trying to blow my backside off! And two, I don’t take orders from some snotty-nosed little twit like you!’
Goss said gravely, ‘This, is Lieutenant-Commander Fraser. The chief engineer.’
The lieutenant blushed. ‘I–I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t understand.’
Fraser stared at him calmly. ‘You wouldn’t.’
The lieutenant turned desperately to Lindsay. ‘I’ll tell the commodore, sir.’ He darted a frightened glance at Fraser. ‘I have to go now.’
Goss looked down at Fraser and said, ‘Amazing. I’m surprised he didn’t recognise a real gentleman when he saw you like that.’
Fraser eyed him with equal gravity. ‘In my book a gentleman is someone who gets out of his bath to have a pee.’
Goss turned to Lindsay. ‘Now you see why we used to try and keep the engineers away from the passengers in the company, sir? Their refinement might have made some of them feel inferior.’ Then he turned and walked slowly towards the bridge.
Fraser gaped after him. ‘Well, I’ll be damned! He made a joke! Not much of one maybe, but he made it!’
Lindsay smiled. ‘And you asked for it, Chief. If you insult another up-and-coming admiral I may not be able to save you.’
‘Fraser shrugged. ‘When the likes of that upstart are admirals I’ll either be tending my garden at home or six feet under it.’ He chuckled. ‘But fancy old John Goss cracking a joke.’ He was still chuckling as he walked towards his quarters.
Maxwell crossed the deck and saluted.
‘I’ve assembled the dockyard people for you in the wardroom, sir.’
‘Good idea. It never hurts to soften them up with a few drinks before asking their help.’
He paused by a screen door. ‘Is there anything wrong, Guns? Any way I can help?’
Maxwell stiffened. ‘Wrong, sir? Why should there be?’ He stared at a point above Lindsay’s shoulder. ‘All the starboard watch and second part of port watch for liberty this afternoon, sir?’
Lindsay studied him thoughtfully. ‘yes. Have it piped.’
He would have to keep an eye on axwell. He was so tensed up he might well become another Aikman. He smiled bitterly. Or Lindsay.
He straightened his shoulders and pushed open the wardroom door.
‘Now, gentlemen, about these repairs.’
Commodore Kemp’s temporary residence was situated several miles from the naval base, and after the crowded, jostling streets, the seemingly endless numbers of servicemen, it gave an immediate impression of peaceful seclusion. A staff car, driven by a bearded Sikh corporal, had collected Lindsay at the jetty at the exact minute prescribed, and as it left him standing just inside the open gates Lindsay wondered how he had arrived without a fatal accident. The Sikh had driven with expressionless abandon, as if every street had been empty, using the car’s horn as the sole form of survival.
It was a very attractive house, white-walled and fringed with palms. There was a colourful, well-tended garden, and he could imagine the number of servants required to keep it so.
A house-boy in white tunic and scarlet sash took his cap and ushered him into a cool, spacious room where the commodore was standing with his back to a large portrait. It depicted a bearded Victorian who was staring steadfastly into the distance, arms folded, and with one foot on a dead tiger.
Kemp waited for Lindsay to reach him and thenoffered his hand. ‘Good to see you safe and well.’ He snapped his fingers to the servant. ‘You’ll have a drink before dinner, I imagine.’
‘Thank you, sir. Scotch.’
Kemp was smoking a cigar and gestured for Lindsay to sit in one of the tall gilt chairs.
‘Nice place, eh? Belongs to a tea-planter. He stays up-country for most of the time. Just comes here to get away from it all.’
Lindsay tried to relax. The whisky was good. Very good. Kemp certainly appeared to be enjoying his new role. Relishing it, as if the house and all it entailed were his by right.
‘I was damn glad to hear about your U-boat.’ Kemp’s eyes followed the cigar smoke until it was plucked into a nearby fan. ‘Merlin’s captain was pretty sure he’d done for that one, otherwise I’d never have left you without another escort, naturally:’
Lindsay thought of the convoy receding over the horizon. The sense of isolation and danger.
‘But your ships got through all right, sir.’
Kemp shrugged. ‘Lost the other freighter, I’m afraid. She had a bit of engine trouble. Her master signalled that
some of our depth-charges had exploded too close for comfort.’ He poured himself another drink without calling for the servant. His hand was shaking. ‘But I knew
there was no real risk of more U-boats attacking us, so I pressed on. The convoy was vital, as you know. Anyway, there were more escorts on way from Freetown, plus two destroyers from the inshore squadron.’
Lindsay watched him over his glass. ‘You left him behind.’
Kemp looked uneasy. ‘It should have been safe enough. But the destroyers could find no trace of the poor chap. Must have had an explosion aboard. Anyway,
can’t be helped. All water under the bridge, as they say.’ Lindsay swallowed his drink and held the glass out to.
the impassive servant. Kemp had abandoned the freighter. Just like Benbecula and the ammunition ship. ‘Didn’t she send any distress signals, sir?’ ‘No.’ Kemp sounded too casual. ‘Nothing.’ ‘That’s strange.’
Kemp stood up and walked to one of the wide windows. ‘Well, there’s damn all we can do about it now.’ He turned, his face set in a smile again. ‘Now, about you. I gather you’ve had the repair yard hopping like mad all day. They’ll do what they can, of course, but I can’t promise too much. It’ll have to be a patch up job. I’ve been informed that your damage is largely superficial where the hull is concerned.’
‘We’ll manage, sir.’ He tried to hide his bitterness.
Kemp nodded. ‘That’s the spirit. Front-line ships are right at the top of the list, I’m afraid. But I don’t have to tell you that.’
‘I was wondering about the next assignment, sir’ He saw the decanter hovering above Kemp’s glass.
‘Well, we can’t talk shop tonight, eh? This is a sort of celebration for you. A welcome back.’ He became serious. ‘Of course, with Singapore in the enemy’s bag there’s nothing for all these reinforcements. we brought out from U.K. I’ve seen the admiral and his Chief of Staff, and I gather we’ll be expected to help in another convoy.’ He sounded vague. ‘I daresay the troops will be a godsend elsewhere, anyway.’ Things have been getting a bit grim in North Africa to all accounts.’
Lindsay watched him as he took another drink. You don’t care. Don’t give a damn about anyone but yourself.
Ships left without help, men dying, none of it counted. It was outside, beyond Kemp’s vision, and interest too for that matter.