Shute, Nevil (24 page)

‘Peter,’ said Joan from behind the curtain. ‘When did you have a bath last?’

‘Good Lord!-I don’t know.’ He thought for a minute. ‘Not since the war began.’

‘Nor have I. How long is that?’

They tried to count the days, came to a different answer every time, and gave it up.’ I do hope they’ll let us have another bath in the morning,’ said Joan.

‘They might. It’s a bit of luck getting in with the Navy like this. We might not have got a bath for months.’ Presently they got out, still rocking with the motion of the boat, dressed in borrowed pyjamas and dressing-gowns, and went through to a small dining-room with a fire. A steward was waiting to serve them with short drinks, and a dinner of soup, stewed steak and vegetables, and a steamed pudding.

By the time they reached the coffee stage they were all but asleep. ‘Now I lay me down to rest,’ said Joan. ‘I do like the Navy, Peter.’

They went through to the room arranged for them, stumbling a little as they walked. There were three beds; in one of them the two children were already asleep. The baby was reposing in a drawer laid carefully upon two chairs. Joan and Peter climbed into their beds, turned over, and within five minutes were asleep themselves.

Corbett woke at dawn, slept again, and woke finally at about nine o’clock. Joan and the children were still sleeping; he got up very quietly, went to the bath-house and had a shower, and came back to dress. His clothes were laid out at the foot of his bed; they had been dried and brushed, but were sufficiently disreputable. He left the room before the others were awake, and went along to breakfast in the dining-room.

A signalman came to him as he was finishing. ‘The surgeon-captain has had a signal from Victorious, sir. The captain would like you to go on board this forenoon. He’ll send a boat in for you as convenient.’

Joan was still sleeping; the children were all right. Corbett said: ‘I can go at once.’

‘Very good, sir. I’ll tell the surgeon-captain and he’ll send a signal for the boat. Down at the jetty, sir.’

It was a sunny morning late in March; there was a fresh wind from the Channel. Corbett left the hospital and walked down the road to the jetty; in the harbour the fleet lay spread out before him, bright and cheerful in the morning sun. He sat for a time upon a block of stone upon the jetty watching the traffic of the harbour; presently the boat slid up to the steps.

He got down into the stern-sheets and was carried swiftly to the carrier. As he went, he was distressed about his clothes. In spite of the attention that had been given to them at the hospital they were not very good. He was wearing a very old tweed coat with a torn pocket; though the salt had been brushed from his trousers, traces of motor grease remained. On his head he wore a very battered soft felt hat; his collar had been clean before the war.

The boat drew up to the gangway; he went on board, turning to raise his hat to the quarter-deck. So much, at least he knew about the Navy. Godfrey was there in a new uniform; he came to meet him.

Corbett said awkwardly: ‘I say, I’ve not got clothes to come on board. I’m terribly sorry.’

‘You’re perfectly all right. The Captain said he wanted to see you. You don’t mind?’

‘Not if he doesn’t mind seeing me like this.’

They went forward through the lower hangar, out into an alley at the side, up three flights of very steep steel steps, out on to the flight-deck, wide and unencumbered, and into the island bridge. At the door of the captain’s sea cabin Godfrey knocked and went in. He came out in a minute.

‘Would you come in?’

In the narrow little room, cumbered with berth and desk, there was barely room for the three of them. The captain rose and held out his hand, a broad, youngish man with curly red hair and a merry face.

He said: ‘Mr. Corbett? Good morning. I wanted to meet you to thank you for picking up Godfrey and Matheson. I hope it hasn’t been too inconvenient for you.’

‘Not a bit, sir.’

‘Where were you bound for when we spoke to you?’

‘Plymouth.’

‘Plymouth? But you were running south.’ Godfrey said: ‘It was a very strong wind for a small boat, if you remember, sir. I found that when I got on board. They couldn’t carry any sail at all. They’d been running before it since midnight, waiting for it to moderate.’

‘I see. So actually you haven’t been taken much out of your way by coming back to land them here?’

Corbett smiled, and shook his head. ‘I shan’t put in any claim for compensation. Not after all the hospitality we’ve had.’

‘They made you comfortable in the hospital? I’m glad of that.’ He turned to Godfrey. ‘What’s happening about their stuff?’

‘The boat’s away now, taking it on board. The commander sent off earlier in the morning to clean the vessel out for them, sir.’ He turned to Corbett. ‘I expect they’ll have put everything in the wrong place. I’ll come with you when you go.’

‘It’s awfully kind of you to take all this trouble,’ he said.

The captain held out a cigarette-box. ‘Not a bit. Where are you bound for now, Mr. Corbett? Still for Plymouth? He struck a match and lit the cigarette for him.

‘I’d rather like to get your advice on that, sir.’

‘Go ahead.’

‘I’m trying to get my wife and children on a steamer for the States, or Canada. I can pay the passage, and I’ve got money over there for them to live on, for a time at any rate. Nothing’s coming into Southampton now. I thought if I got down to Plymouth I might get a boat for them there.’

‘But why didn’t you go by train, or by road?’

Corbett smiled, a little bitterly. ‘I don’t think you quite realise what things are like on shore, sir.’

Godfrey nodded. ‘Things seem to be much worse than I knew, sir.’

The captain eyed them keenly. ‘In what way?’

Corbett said: ‘Things are very difficult in the Southampton district now.’ In short, unembellished terms he told the captain what had happened to them since the war began. At the conclusion he said: ‘You see, I thought it would be easier to take my family down by sea than going any other way. I still think it’s the safest thing to do.’

There was silence for a moment. The captain said:

‘I see …’ He turned to Corbett: ‘Do you know what things are like at Fareham?’

Corbett shook his head. ‘I’m afraid not, sir.’

‘No matter.’ The captain turned to some papers on his desk. ‘I’m very doubtful if you’ll get a ship at Plymouth. The town’s had a bad time with these repeated raids. Besides that, as a naval base we’re trying to keep merchant shipping out of it and send them somewhere else. You might strike lucky and get a ship there, or you might have to wait a month. You’d probably do better at Falmouth.’

He explained: ‘You see, so far as possible, and in principle, we’re keeping all merchant shipping out of the Channel. The War Scheme’s working out quite well. Everything’s going to the west coast ports. So far as possible, as I say.’

Corbett said: ‘You mean I’d have to get round to Bristol or some place like that before I could be certain of a ship?’

‘That’s right. Or else to Brest. If you can cross the mouth of the Channel in your boat, you’d get a ship at Brest any day.’ He paused. ‘You must understand, there are four main ports to which we send the whole of the North Atlantic merchant traffic, Mr. Corbett. Brest is one of them, and it’s probably the nearest one for you.’

‘I see.’

Godfrey said: ‘If he decided to do that, we could let him have a chart or two, sir?’

‘Of course. Get him anything he wants.’ Corbett said: ‘I’d like to think about that, sir. It’s a longer passage than I’d reckoned I should have to make. We’re not a very strong crew-only my wife and myself, and, of course, the children don’t make it any easier. If I could go with Commander Godfrey and have a look at the chart, perhaps? It really is most kind of you to help us in this way.’

‘It’s the least that we can do. Yes, go along and have a look at it. If you can face the passage, it’s what I should advise.’

He turned to Godfrey: ‘You’ll have to get through with it this afternoon. We may be sailing tonight.’

‘I’ll be able to give him the five o’clock forecast, sir?’

The captain nodded. ‘We shan’t be sailing before that.’ To Corbett he said: ‘For your purpose, we should be able to give you a good idea of the weather for the next thirty-six hours. Have a talk with the Met. officer.’

He smiled. ‘We can’t come with you, but we can do our best to give you a good push off. What do you want in the way of stores?’

‘I should like some petrol and fresh water, sir.’

Godfrey said: ‘You’ve got the water. They were going to fill up your tank this morning.’

The captain said: ‘We’ve got about seventy-three thousand gallons of petrol on board at the moment. How much do you want?’

Corbett smiled faintly: ‘Could I have ten of them?’

‘Put it on the chit, Godfrey. It’s leaded fuel, you know-eighty-seven octane. You don’t want to get it in a cut.’

‘I’d like some fresh milk, and some bread, sir.’

‘Right. Anything else?’

‘I don’t think so. If there is, could I tell Commander Godfrey this afternoon?’

‘By all means. I want you to feel that you can draw on us for what you want, Mr. Corbett.’ He turned aside. ‘I think the admiral would like to have a word with you, while you’re here.’

He lifted a telephone and spoke into it. ‘That you, Flags? Tell the admiral that Mr. Corbett is in my sea cabin. Ask if he would like to see him.’

In a minute the buzzer sounded; the captain lifted the receiver. ‘All right. Godfrey will bring him along now.’

He turned to Corbett. ‘Godfrey will take you along to the admiral,’ he said. ‘I shall say good-bye. I want you to draw on us for anything you need in the way of stores or provisions, Mr. Corbett. We’re very grateful to you.’

He held out his hand. ‘Goodbye.’ They went back through the ship between the aircraft parked in rows with folded wings in the flight-hangar, down a hatch to the ward-room flat, and so to the admiral’s cabin at the stern. In the fore-cabin the flag-lieutenant got up from a table.

‘I’ll see if he’s ready.’ He went into the inner cabin and came out a moment later. ‘Will you go in?’

They went in. Godfrey said: ‘This is Mr. Corbett, sir.’

Corbett saw a stocky little red-faced man, with grey hair, rather stout. ‘All right, Godfrey. You needn’t wait. I’ll send Mr. Corbett along to the ward-room when I’ve done with him.’

Godfrey withdrew; Corbett was left alone with the admiral. The stocky little man looked him up and down. ‘So you’re the young man who was in the yacht! What were you running like that for? Couldn’t you carry sail?’

‘No, sir.’ He hesitated. ‘If I’d had a full crew of men on board, we might have sailed her. But I’d only got my wife. I thought I’d let it blow itself out a bit.’

‘You’d got three children on board, they tell me. One of them a baby.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Well, I’m very grateful to you for picking up my men. How do you earn your living?’

‘I’m a solicitor. In Southampton.’

‘Public school boy, by the sound of you.’

‘I went to Repton.’

‘How long have you been yachting?’

Corbett hesitated. ‘Well, I’ve lived all my life in Southampton. I’ve sailed boats ever since I can remember. I’ve owned this one for five years.’

The admiral stumped over to a large, square port. ‘That’s her, lying over there?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘How many tons is she?’

‘Five and a half tons register. About nine tons, Thames.’

‘East coast boat, by the look of her.’

‘Yes, sir.’

The other turned back from the port. ‘How do you navigate her? Can you take a sight?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Compass and log?’

‘Yes.’

‘Know anything about signals?’

‘Nothing to speak of.’ Dimly Corbett began to perceive what this was leading up to.

‘What compass variation do you put on?’

‘Eleven degrees west, sir.’

‘Do you know your buoyage? What sort of buoys mark a channel, starboard hand going in?’

‘Conical ones.’

‘What does a green buoy mean?’

‘A wreck.’

The admiral crossed to his desk, and sat down. ‘We need fellows like you for our auxiliary craft.’ He stared Corbett in the eyes. ‘I should like to recommend you for a commission as a sub-lieutenant in the Volunteer Reserve. Would you take it?’

There was a pause.

‘I should like a minute to think that over, sir.’

‘By all means. Sit down in that chair. I have some things to do here.’

Corbett did not sit down, but turned back to the port and stood looking out over the harbour, bright and sunny in the morning light. There was a boat alongside Sonia, and people moving about on board. If Joan saw that she would be wondering who they were. The morning was getting on; she must be up by now. Joan … She would never be able to get to Canada alone, from Portland. This commission - it would be too tough on her for him to think of. And the kids … He’d brought children into the world, and it was up to him to give them a square deal.

He turned back to the desk. He said: ‘I’m afraid I can’t do that. I’m sorry. But I’ve got my wife and children to consider.’

The admiral looked at him for a long moment, inscrutably. Then he motioned to the chair. ‘Sit down, Mr. Corbett. Take a cigarette.’ He watched Corbett while he lit it. ‘Now, let me understand you properly. You say you have your wife and children to consider?’

‘Yes, sir. I couldn’t go away and leave them.’ The older man gave him a hard look.

‘Why not?’ he asked directly.

Corbett did not answer at once. He blew a long cloud of smoke.

‘Well, what would happen to them?’

‘Send them home.’

Slowly the anger rose in Corbett.

‘I see that you don’t understand,’ he said evenly. ‘My home is a ruin and a wreck. There’s no glass in any of the windows. The ground floor and the garden are flooded with sewage. There’s no water to drink but polluted water running in the gutters of the road. There’s no milk for my baby. There’s no fresh meat for the children. It’s in a cholera district. It’s bombed to hell every night-for all I know it may have been hit by now. That’s my home, sir. If you think I’m going to send my wife and children back to that while I join the Navy, you can bloody well think again.’