He said, “Well, Doc, it all seems quiet enough in your department.
Vaughan examined one scrubbed hand. “You mentioned Able Seaman Jevers, sir.”
Drummond nodded. Straight to the point. Like a scalpel.
“You know his history. ” He pushed a folder across the desk. “Read this and fill in the details for yourself. I’m worried about him. I’ve made a few notes at the bottom.”
Vaughan’s eyes lit up as he scanned the papers. “Wife missing? There’s no report on that from Welfare. They say she went off with an American.”
“Well, maybe she went off with someone else. But I’m not satisfied. You are in charge of welfare aboard this ship. See what you can find out. Discreetly.”
Vaughan smiled. “Of course, sir.”
“I don’t want him worried. There may be nothing in this idea of mine. In which case it will only cause more trouble.”
It was strange to be sitting here like this. Discussing a seaman’s problems. Within a few days they would be moving again. And then … he felt his stomach muscles contract as if expecting a blow. Was that why Captain Kimber and his staff had been so frank and open about the proposed submarine attack on Tirpitz? To stress the importance of the destroyer’s mission, or because there was no hope at all of their surviving it?
Vaughan said, “I have just signed for an additional amount of surgical stores, sir. My S.B.A. was quite upset about it.” He chuckled. “Ranting about the sickbay like a bitch on heat trying to find room for everything.” He asked smoothly, “Any reason, sir? I mean, I carry quite sufficient dressings and drugs for most happenings.”
Drummond looked at him. “We are under orders. That’s all I can say.”
Vaughan shrugged. “It’s enough, sir.”
There was a tap on the door and Galbraith peered in at them.
“What is it, Chief?”
Galbraith wiped his face with a smutty piece of rag. “Just wanted a chat about spares, sir.”
“Doc’s finished now. Come and sit down.”
And so it went on.
A few yards away in the wardroom Sheridan was standing with his back to the unlit fire, while Rankin and Wingate sat nearby, their notebooks open on their knees. The base staff had been aboard since dawn, and were now clambering through the destroyer alongside in search of flaws and makeshift repairs.
Rankin drawled, “Well, my department is all buttoned up.” He sounded resentful, which he was. “Bloody men peering through my four-inch guns as if they were looking for contraband!”
Wingate was watching Sheridan. “It’s going to be sooner than we thought then?”
“I guess so.”
Sheridan was thinking about the captain. No sign of anger at what he had said about Sarah Kemp last night. At the defaulters’ table, where he had been attending to the two ratings who had been in a brawl ashore, he had seen Drummond speaking with some of the base staff. He seemed quite calm. Remote, even, from any sort of nerves.
The quartermaster peered into the wardroom. “Base staff ‘ave left the ship, sir. They’re now aboard Whirlpool.”
“Thank you, Jevers.” Sheridan thought the man seemed more intense than usual. Perhaps the captain had already spoken to him.
Jevers asked, “I ain’t seen the Old-I mean, the captain yet, sir.”
He licked his lips. He was a sharp-featured man, a bit like a fox, Sheridan thought.
“Well, I expect he will send for you when he gets a moment.”
Jevers hung in the doorway. “No idea wot it’s about, ‘ave you, sir?”
“Have you?”
“Well, sir,” he hung his head, “me wife still ain’t written. ” Rankin said, “If you need any help … ” The seaman nodded. “I know, sir. The Welfare.” He hurried away to the ladder in the wardroom flat. Rankin said, “I don’t know, but that chap puts me on edge. ” Wingate grinned. “How would you feel if a Yank went off with your wife?”
Rankin picked up his notebook. “I’d give him the price of a meal, I daresay.”
Feet grated on the ladder, and seconds later the probing nose of Lieutenant-Commander Dorian de Pass swung round the door.
Sheridan asked, “Can I help, sir?”
The Informer examined him suspiciously. “Your captain. Is he free?”
Wingate stood up. “I’ll check for you. The chief was with him just now.”
Rankin said hurriedly, “I’ve got to go, too.”
The Lomond’s first lieutenant waited until they had left and remarked coldly, “What’s their rush, I wonder?”
Sheridan shrugged. It was odd that de Pass seemed to be the only one who did not know of his own unpopularity.
He was saying, “I’ve brought your orders. A slight change. You will be leaving this afternoon at 1730, Whirlpool, Whiplash and,Waxwing in company. Operations have arranged for a repair ship to be standing by in Seydisfjord, in case some lazy bugger has forgotten something. ” He sounded on edge.
“That is early. Can I ask why?”
“Captain (D) will be remaining here for a day or so with the other three ships. He wants to do some work in A. C. H. Q.” He studied Sheridan meaningly. “Still, we first lieutenants can’t have too many secrets, can we?”
Sheridan was staggered. The Informer must be worried to share his information with him. ‘A reservist at that.
De Pass added, “You know of the German battlecruiser Moltke?” It sounded like of course. “You’re not likely to forget her, I imagine.”
Sheridan looked away. Remembering his captain from the past. The one who had killed himself because of the Conqueror court of enquiry. Moltke had been the one to put the old battleship down. It had been so easy for her. So terribly easy.
Sheridan had seen her once, just before the war. 1937, when King George had reviewed the fleet at Spithead. It was like a mad dream now. But at the time it had seemed only right and proper for other nations to send representatives to the greatest review of the greatest navy. Moltke had been brand new, barely months from her builder’s yard in Wilhelmshaven.
The pleasure boats had had a heyday, surging with carefree trippers past the towering grey ships. Hood and the French Dunquerque, the American New York, and just astern of the German pocket-battleship Graf Spee, the Moltke. She had lacked much of the lean grace of the Scharnhorst and her sister ship, and had not measured up to the later armoured giants like Tirpitz. But anyone with half an eye could not fail to recognise her latent power and menace as her impeccable ship’s company had lined the guardrails and cheered while the Royal Yacht had steamed past.
He replied quietly, “I thought she was down south. In the Baltic. Wasn’t she supposed to be damaged by our bombing? Out of commission?”
De Pass grunted. “So they said. Well, she’s bloody well not in the Baltic now.”
Sheridan stared at him. “You mean, she’s up here?” “Nobody knows anything. There has been a lot of coastal fog around the Skaggerak and Norwegian coast. Our submarine patrols have not seen her. Nor has anyone else, it seems. ” “But you think-“
“I don’t know what to think. All I know is that Captain (D) is like a wild man since he got the news. You can imagine what it means to him. He doesn’t say much, but I’ve got to know quite a lot about his moods over the last few weeks. He’s got a complete dossier on the Moltke. About her capabilities, even her captain’s record, right from the moment he was a naval cadet.”
“I can believe that.” He felt suddenly dry. “It could make a difference to our position, I suppose?”
“Christ knows.” De Pass’s great nose swivelled to the door as Galbraith approached from the opposite side. “I just hope that somebody in high places is all genned up.”
Galbraith sauntered past him and sat down heavily in a chair.
“Skipper’s free now.” He raised one eyebrow as de Pass hurried away. “Bother?”