“Is that what you really think? You hate him that much?”
She smiled sadly. “You think I’m an idiot. You may be right.”
He asked carefully, “Your brother? You were pretty close?”
“Yes. Our parents died in an air-raid right at the beginning. Tim was everything to me.”
His fingers moved gently across hers, touching the plain gold ring.
She said, “My husband? You’re wondering about him?”
He said, “Only if you want to tell me.”
“Nothing much to tell. Tim was away with the Navy, I was a bit wild, I suppose. I met Philip at a party. He was a soldier. Good-looking, witty. Just what I needed with all the bombing which was going on in London.” Her eyes were dreamy, far away. “Just one leave. It was all we had. I don’t think we got out of bed for more than a minute or so. Then off he went.”
Drummond waited, seeing the memories crossing her face.
She said, “He’s in Canada now. Army liaison job in Ottawa. ” She looked at him, but her expression was distant. “He wants his freedom. Seems he’s nicely fixed up with a fresh Canadian girl.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s her I’m sorry for.” She took her hand away as the waitress banged the cups on the table. “Philip has had several others before her. He’s the sort of boy we find hard to refuse.”
She tried to smile, but it did not come. “So there you are. The story of Sarah, although not the one that gets spread around usually.”
Drummond said, “He must have wanted his head examining.”
She looked at him again, her eyes misty. “That was nice. Very nice. Usually when they find out I’m married but separated they all think I’m fair game. And the married men are the worst. Pawing you about. One minute telling you about the dear wife at home and all the little toddlers, and the next trying to tear your clothes off.” She shuddered. “Do you take sugar?”
He grinned. “Yes.”
She sipped the coffee and then said, “I suppose all this made Tim’s death harder to take.- She hesitated. “There were two other survivors from the Conqueror.”
“I know. A stoker and a seaman.”
She nodded. “The seaman was called Carson. He was a messenger apparently. Got blasted over the side and found his way to a raft of some sort. I saw some of the reports about it. You can get hold of almost anything in this job. There were about four or five men on the raft. One of them was Beaumont. Carson insisted that one was Tim. But when the neutral ship went looking for survivors there was only Beaumont, Carson and the stoker, who was half mad with shock. ” She dropped her eyes. “Poor devil.”
He asked quietly, “Just the three?”
“Yes. Carson can’t remember a thing now. He’s in hospital. I went to see him. He told me that Tim was alive.” She traced an invisible line on the table. “Beaumont denies it. He says that there were two other seamen with him, but although he tried to save them, they died of their wounds and drifted away.”
“Perhaps Carson was mistaken. ” He gripped her hand as she looked up at him, her eyes suddenly angry. “I said perhaps! Have you thought about it?”
“I’m sorry. Yes, I have thought about it. But he seemed so sure. So definite that it was Tim.”
The waitress returned and said abruptly, “This hotel is out of bounds to all males as from ten o’clock.” She sniffed. “Sir.”
Drummond stood up. “Thank you.” He took the girl’s arm and guided her towards the lobby. “I have to go now.” He felt her arm stiffen. “But I’d like to see you again. Tomorrow?”
She looked at him evenly. “Yes, I’d like it, too.” She reached up and touched his cheek. “Many happy returns.”
He knew he was staring at her. That he wanted her so badly it hurt.
He said, “I’m not married, and I won’t tell you about the wife at home.”
She watched him. “I checked on that, too. ” Then she smiled. “Perhaps we could get out, away from the town, climb that damned volcano, or something.”
He forced his voice to stay calm. “What did Salter tell you?”
“Oh, that the mission is being shelved. I’m not to mention it, but I can’t tell you how glad I am for your sake.”
“Yes.” He did not know what else to say.
She walked with him to the door. “It’s funny to see all the lights on. Like it used to be at home.” She shook her head. “No, I am not going to get morbid. The lights are on here, and … ”
She looked up at him again. “And I’m very happy at the moment.”
As he walked through the town towards the harbour, past well-lit shops and jostling groups of sailors and soldiers, he kept thinking about Sarah Kemp. It was like seeing life through, another dimension, and the realisation left him confused, breathless.
Sheridan was waiting for him as he stepped aboard.
“All quiet, sir. Most of the libertymen are off now. Two are in the rattle ashore. Drunk and disorderly.”
“Normal then.”
He glanced along the deserted iron deck. And she had been the only one to remember his birthday. Even his mother had forgotten.
Sheridan added, “Good run ashore, sir?”
“Yes.”
He nodded. “Pilot said he saw you going into the hotel by the square. So I guessed you were dining with Mrs. Kemp. ” He fell into step beside Drummond. “I hope she didn’t get on to you about her brother. She tried to get me involved like that. When I wouldn’t, she soon put the fence up.”
Drummond turned away. “I’ll see you in the morning, Number One.”
Sheridan watched him as he vanished into the quartermaster’s lobby. What the hell, had made him speak like that about her? Was it jealousy at Drummond’s success? At his promotion? He stirred uneasily. Anyway, it had not been completely untrue.
She had kept pestering him about the bloody Conqueror. Then on the landing of the hotel he had turned her round into his arm. Pulling her against him so that she was helpless. He had cupped her breast in his hand, his cheek on her hair, feeling his blood surging like a hot wind.
He gripped the guardrail and stared fixedly at the water alongside. She had asked him quietly to release her, her body stiff against his. But he had felt her breast moving beneath his fingers and had known that she was just playing for time. The pain had come like a stab wound.
As he had fallen back, gasping and holding his groin, she had said shakily, “Touch me again and I’ll reallydo you an injury!”
The humiliation still left him ashamed and furious. With her and himself.
Below his feet, in his cabin, Drummond stood motionless under a deckhead light, examining the pipe, remembering what she had said. How she had looked. Nothing Sheridan could do or say could take that away from him. He sat down in a chair and began to fill his new pipe.
Surgeon Lieutenant Adrian Vaughan stood beside the desk and watched Drummond examining his daily sick report. It was halfway through the forenoon, and around and above the cabin the ship moved uneasily against her fenders and nudged the destroyer which was moored alongside.
A normal routine day in harbour. Drummond initialled the report, his mind only half attending to the list of ailments. A few bruises from a fight ashore. A stoker who had cracked his thumb. A suspected case of V. D. which Vaughan had packed off to the naval hospital.
Boots clumped overhead, and somewhere further forward he heard a man chipping paint. The endless battle against rust.
Vaughan was wearing rimless glasses which only helped to accentuate his lack of colour. Pale hair and eyes, delicate, almost transparent skin. But Drummond had seen him at work. Knew that behind those glasses was a carefully concealed hardness.