Blake said, ‘You look very lovely, Mrs Fairfax.’ He took her hand. ‘Too good for him.’
‘It’s what I keep telling him.’ She flushed with pleasure.
‘But I can’t compete with
Andromeda
!’
Moon eased his way through the throng, avoiding out-thrust hands and demands for attention.
He saw Blake and raised his small silver tray on which stood a solitary glass.
‘For you, sir. Special.’
‘With you, it always is.’
Blake raised the glass to his lips, saw the way the people nearest to him had stopped their chatter to watch. As if it really was a special occasion.
Sarah Fairfax asked, ‘Can we share the secret, Captain?’
Blake looked over at Moon. ‘It’s his way of helping. He’s like a prop to me.’ He downed the drink and held back a cough.
Moon beamed. ‘Thought you’d like it, sir. Learned about it when I was in the old
Bombay Queen
runnin’ out of Shang’ai in the thirties.’
Lieutenant-Commander Scovell strode aft from the gangway and said, ‘Your guests have arrived, sir.’
Blake walked with him while Moon retreated with the empty glass, satisfied with his gesture.
Fairfax saw the two figures stepping aboard, a tall man with a clerical collar, the girl, in uniform, beside him. He heard his wife murmur, ‘She keeps the uniform on as a barrier.’
Blake shook the minister’s hand. He had already instructed Weir and the paymaster commander to keep him away from Beveridge, the chaplain. Old Horlicks, with his God enlisted on the side of the Allies, and particularly so with the Royal Navy, would seem a world away from that quiet little church where she had taken him.
He put his hand through the girl’s arm. She was very tense, but was looking around at the other curious faces with a kind of defiance.
‘I’m so glad you could come, Claire.’
She looked at him. ‘Mother would not join us. Ships, the Navy, you know. She still feels it badly about David. But Dad’s been looking forward to it, bless him.’
Fairfax saw their exchange of glances and said quietly,
‘Sarah, for just once in your life I think you’ve miscalculated badly. I really do.’
She put out her tongue. ‘Pull the other one. Now get me another drink,
Commander,
and let’s have a party!’
BLAKE SAT AT
his desk, half-heartedly reading the various papers which the new chief writer, Brazier, was methodically laying before him. Brazier was another Australian, one of the latest draft which had come aboard as replacements.
It took some getting used to. Each time Blake left his quarters he heard new voices, different dialects and saw the lost expressions of men exploring fresh surroundings.
It had been touching when the latest batch of old Andromedas had left the ship. They had gathered in an embarrassed, shuffling group while he had said a few words to them. But how did trite phrases and emotional handshakes sum up what he felt, what they all must have felt?
Those men in their best uniforms, starting back along the passage to Britain. New ships, courses, promotions, adjustments in every way.
Now he was back in his day cabin he could recall each man as he had once fitted into their elite company. A sun-reddened face yelling defiance as the Stukas had come screaming down. Another murmuring encouragement to a messmate pinned beneath twisted steel. Sailors wading ashore to lift wounded troops from Tobruk, Farleigh’s marines firing a volley over a line of graves.
He thought suddenly of the wardroom party. A great success, everyone had said. But even though it had been two days ago, it was already hard to hold it in perspective.
He knew why, but would not admit it. He had seen very little of her during the party because of Stagg’s arrival. Booming voice, a kind of fierce confidence which seemed out of place.
Now the girl was in Sydney. Whether she had been ordered
there or had volunteered to get away from him he did not know.
Blake recalled exactly when things had gone wrong. He had taken her to the deserted upper bridge, leaving Stagg with two admirals.
Under the stars, the bridge, usually a place of movement and decision, had seemed strangely ghostlike.
She had asked him about England again, what he would do after the war. They had stood side by side on the gratings, looking aft where the quarterdeck awnings glowed from the little lights which were hung like garlands along the guard-rails and stanchions.
He had said, ‘The Navy will be cut back to the minimum. As it was in my father’s day. I’ll probably be politely put on the shelf, until the next blow-up.’
She had laid her hand on his. ‘Why not come out here? It may seem a bit quiet to you, but it’ll be different one day.’
She had not resisted as he had turned her on his arm so that her spine had been against the bridge screen. But he had immediately felt the change, the passive resistance, when seconds before he had felt hope and longing.
A messenger had arrived panting on the bridge and had saved the situation, if only by preventing him making a complete fool of himself.
Chief Writer Brazier said, ‘That’s the lot, sir.’ He patted the signed papers into a tidy pile.
Blake smiled at him. Soon there would be none of the old company left.
Andromeda
would begin again, moulding a new one to suit her own ways.
He tried to keep his thoughts in order but his short visit to the girl’s home kept coming back. The little church could have been in England, and when he had said as much she had laughed at him.
‘You’ve got that English look again! All green fields and thatched cottages. Even if we win the war it may not be like that any more.’
He had shared her mood. ‘There’s that!’
He switched his mind with an effort to Stagg as he had last seen him, here in this cabin. Serious and overpowering as he
had laid his beliefs about the raider on the line. The two admirals had been present, one politely interested, the other too far gone to care.
But there had been no doubting Stagg’s sincerity, nor his obsession with the raider. Perhaps it was as important for him to aim all his hate on the one German as it was for Blake to accept there might be two raiders on the rampage.
The interested admiral had remarked, ‘You’ve given it a lot of thought.’
Stagg had leaned on a table, his face glistening in the lights. ‘I had plenty of time to think. Lying in a sweat-box, reeking in my own filth and waiting for the door to be opened, to be half-blinded by sunlight before the little bastards got going with their torture, their ‘amusement’ for the day!’
Later, as Blake had seen him over the side, Stagg had turned and had muttered thickly, ‘Good party. Don’t go much on them these days.’ He had had some difficultly in making up his mind before he had ended with, ‘I still mean what I said. You ride with me and you’re welcome. Go against me and I’ll not be too happy, see?’ He had given Blake a punch on the shoulder. ‘We’ll show ’em!’
The door opened and Fairfax entered. He looked relaxed but tired. Blake thought of the beautiful Sarah and then pushed his envy aside. Fairfax was just lucky. It was to be hoped he appreciated it.
Fairfax waited for Brazier to leave then said, ‘Signal from HQ, sir. Two days’ readiness as of noon today. The last of the supplies will be aboard by the end of the first dog watch. After that, it’s anyone’s guess, I suppose.’
Blake waved him to a chair. He really wanted to be alone but once again he knew the reason and despised his own pettiness.
More new men, changing methods, fresh routines. Only outwardly would she be the same ship. Soon he would not even have her to himself. Stagg was probably right about his future. A nice soft job in the Admiralty or lecturing young hopefuls on the merits of command. He sighed.
‘Something wrong, sir?’
‘I keep thinking about the lack of news. No more sinkings,
so where the hell is or are the enemy?’ He smiled ruefully. ‘See? Even I’m doubting my own ideas.’
Fairfax watched him thoughtfully. He had been with Sarah all night. In the darkness she had pressed her nakedness against him and had whispered, ‘Ask Richard Blake to dinner. I’ll get a girlfriend for him. Remember Jane what’s-her-name?’
He had groaned. ‘Jane? I thought just about the whole fleet had been with her!’
‘That’s horrible of you!’ She had nestled closer, stroking him and driving away any chance of rest. ‘It was just an idea.’
Fairfax said, ‘You ought to get away for a day. There’s some great country round Melbourne. I could give you a name or two.’
‘No, but thanks.’
Blake thought about his father and the note he had received from the Navy Office that morning. As ‘things’ were quiet again it would not be impossible for Blake to be flown home. His father was an only relative, and with Blake’s record and unbroken combat service there would be no opposition.
It sounded as if Stagg had had a word somewhere. They were trying to get shot of
Andromeda
’s captain, too. He could hardly blame them.
Fairfax added, ‘I see that they are allowing individual sailings as of this week. That may bring out the wolves.’
Blake said, ‘Apparently Jerry was making a big thing of it on the radio. Convoys wiped out, us looking like bloody fools, all the usual stuff.’ He did not mention the propaganda from Berlin which had laid full stress on his own Victoria Cross.
Britain’s best meets his match
. There was no need to. It was doubtless all over the ship.
It was just as if the high commands of both sides were trying to inflame the two antagonists into some explosive action, like knights at a joust.
Or maybe the raider really had slipped away. To be interned in Argentina or to brave the patrols and sneak home to Germany.
Fairfax fiddled with his cap. ‘It’s none of my business, sir,
but I think we’ve become pretty close during the past weeks. If there’s anything I can do. . . .’
Blake looked at him. So it was that obvious. ‘I’m a mess, Victor. When you face up to it, you have to admit that war is all I understand. I can’t cope with my wife, and I keep thinking about my father, dying as he did, penned up in his mind.’
Without realizing it he was on his feet, pacing about the cabin while Fairfax watched him.
‘Maybe I’ve been in combat so long I’m out of my depth on this sort of mission. In the Atlantic or the Med every wave was a potential threat, each floating stick a periscope. I can’t just settle and accept it. I know in my heart that the enemy is out there. Watching our every move like a tiger. It would make no difference if we had another cruiser or half the home fleet. One carrier would be enough, but the minds of people who plan these things are way, way back in the Kaiser’s war. It’s always the same. Ship to ship, honour before all else, never mind the bloody losses!’ He grimaced. ‘It must be this heat, Victor, I’m too steamed up.’
‘We’re getting on for our winter, sir. When you get home your summer will be waiting.’
Blake looked through a scuttle, her words easing through his guard.
All green fields and thatched cottages
.
What the hell was the matter with him? He had come through when many better men had died or been made into wrecks. He had been given the country’s highest decoration.
For Valour
. It said so on the cross. Yet, just because he was being moved on, because his personal affairs were in a muddle, he was acting like a lovesick midshipman.
But it was not like that. He wanted the strange, enigmatic girl with the sun-bleached hair and the rare smile. But, like Diana, he had driven her away, destroyed their brief association.
The telephone buzzed and Fairfax whipped it to his ear. Then he said, ‘Dock office, sir. The commodore’s on his way.’ He stood up. ‘That’ll make everything just perfect.’
Later, as Stagg stood with his large feet well apart on the quarterdeck and regarded the activity along the jetty, the litter of crates and bundles which were waiting to be checked
aboard, Blake sensed his new glow of urgency and confidence. That seemed to be Stagg’s way. Up one minute, rock-bottom the next.
I’m a fine one to talk.
Stagg said, ‘Still loading, eh?
Fremantle
was finished yesterday.’
As Blake led the way to his cabin Fairfax remained by the gangway.
So there,
Stagg’s words seemed to imply.
Stagg got down to it right away. ‘This is the toppest secret you’ve ever handled, believe me. But I’ve at last convinced the right people that we need to take the initiative. Thank God old Jack Quintin is still laid up, otherwise I’d get another bloody argument!’
Blake waited, watching the big man’s latent power, the way he moved about the cabin. He recalled what Stagg had let out about his captivity and felt a sudden pity for him. A man so large, tortured, humiliated, made to grovel by the Japanese, it could not have been easy to overcome.
Stagg said calmly, ‘The Germans monitor all our broadcasts, right? They have some good agents in the field, and probably get their hands on most of the local codes, too.’
He broke off as his mind switched to something else. ‘They’re letting individual ships sail on the safer routes, by the way.’
‘Yes, I know.’
Stagg grinned without warmth. ‘On the ball. What I like to hear.’
He continued, ‘We’re going to provide some bait. The admiral’s given it the go-ahead. The rest will be up to us.’
He leaned forward, the buttons of his white tunic protesting violently. ‘The one thing you and I really agree on is the area where the raider works. A big one, but with a common factor. I intend to ‘create’ an unescorted merchantman, preferably neutral, and lay it on the table for our German friends. Rather like a Q-ship from the Great War.’ His mood changed again and he added fiercely, ‘But this time there’ll be no harbour nice and easy to run for. With
Fremantle
and
Andromeda
working together, and using what air coverage we can put up ourselves, I think we shall flush him out.’ He sat back and asked,
‘Well?
’
Blake nodded. ‘It could work.’
Stagg lifted his hands. ‘God preserve us, the man agrees!’