He walked back through the hallway, his arm around her shoulders. At the door she asked suddenly, ‘Did you see much of Ian in England? Do you know how he’s getting on?’

  Jermain swung round to face her, the realisation crowding in on him like a douche of cold water. ‘My God, Sarah, I should have told you! He’s here, as my number one!’

  She looked away for a few moments, and when she faced him again her face was calm but resolved. ‘Gome back soon, David.’ She studied his features sadly. ‘But keep him away from me.’

  He faltered by the door. ‘But what happened, Sarah?’

  She shook her head. ‘Just keep him away.’

  13

  It Had to Happen One Day

  A full week passed and still the Temercdre lay at her mooring alongside the U.S. depot ship. The first curiosity aroused by her arrival gave way to casual acceptance as the Americans became once more totally involved in their own affairs. Surface ships and submarines came and went with busy and unexplained purpose, and as the days dragged past the Temeraire’s crew became more and more aware of their own futility. When not employed on duties aboard the men found their way inland, each trip ashore adding to the problems of discipline and purpose. Even stable arid reliable members of the crew became involved in fights and drunken brawls, either with the Americans or amongst themselves, and the trickle of mail from home only added to the general air of bitterness and discontent.

  Then, on the seventh day, the weather broke to add its own weight to the Temeraire’s misery. The sky, which had up to now been clear and transparent, was hidden in low cloud, and as the humidity mounted like the interior of a steam bath the rain thundered down as if propelled from a dam. It drove the loungers from the depot ship’s maindeck and turned the hills and roadways into rivers of yellow mud. Even inside the submarine’s hull there seemed no escape, and the steady deluge battered on the toughened steel, making prisoners of the waiting men.

  In his small cabin Jermain sat by the desk, an unlit pipe clamped between his teeth. Although he was dressed only in a pair of slacks his whole body felt stifled and damp with perspiration, and his mind seemed to take an age to deal with even the most routine problem.

  Not that there was much to do any more. Several men had been brought before him as defaulters. A Lieutenant Trott had arrived as a hasty replacement for Victor. But otherwise he seemed bound to sit and watch his command falling apart before his eyes, like the hillsides washing away in the rain.

  Time and time again he thought of Jill Conway. Nearly every day he had made his way to die bungalow to see her, only to come away feeling empty and discouraged. She seemed like a stranger. Like part of another life. Yet in some strange way he felt she was glad of his visits, if only to keep her own loneliness at bay. There was little news of her father, just the occasional communiqué to say he was ‘as comfortable as could be expected’.

  He stared round the cabin remembering the excitement when the Temermre had first gone into commission. The speeches, the high hopes. Like the persistent rain they drummed at his mind like taunts.

  Beyond the door the intercom intoned. ‘Hands to tea. Duty part of the watch muster in the control room.’

  The duty watch would probably be the only men aboard, he thought. It was as if they felt some sort of shame for the Temeraire and could no longer bear to be aboard for longer than necessary.

  Propelled by some inner sense or urgency, Jermain stood up and began to throw on his clothes. He walked through the wardroom where Trott, the new officer, was sitting alone before a cup of tea, and on into the control room. Oxley was mustering the duty hands, a clipboard of papers under his arm.

  Jermain said, ‘I’ll be ashore if I’m wanted. You have the phone number.’

  Oxley nodded. ‘Aye, aye, sir. No news about our going home, I suppose?’

  Jermain caught sight of the assembled men watching him, their faces like strangers, and a flood of resentment made him suddenly angry. ‘What’s the matter? Isn’t there enough work to do here?’ He regretted his outburst immediately, but something made him turn on his heel leaving Oxley looking surprised and hurt.

  The rain met him with savage glee, and within seconds it had soaked through his coat and made his shoes feel like paper. With luck there was a solitary car on the jetty and the driver headed away from the sodden base without a word. Jermain sat slumped in the rear seat, his eyes staring over the driver’s shoulder at the streaming road.

  What the hell was going to happen? If only there was a signal. Send the boat back to England; relieve him of command. Anything was better than this waiting!

  The car squelched to a halt and the driver pushed open the door.

  Jermain tugged his cap over his eyes and hurried the last few steps to the door. It opened before he could touch it and he saw Sarah framed in the yellow lamplight beyond. She closed the door behind him and waited until he had peeled off his dripping coat.

  ‘Thank God you’ve come, David. Jill just got a message from the base.’ She watched him steadily. ‘Her father died this morning in hospital.’

  ‘Is she all right?’ Jermain felt suddenly calm. Perhaps this was what he had been expecting. Dreading.

  ‘I’m not sure. I was going to telephone the Temeraire and send for you. I think she wants to see you.’ She moved towards a door. ‘I think it’s better if you go in alone.’ She shivered as the rain slashed at the shutters. ‘I’ll be with David if you need me.’

  Jermain opened the door and stepped quietly inside. With all the shutters closed against the storm the room was deep in shadow. A single lamp burned beside the bed, and the girl was sitting on the window seat, her legs drawn up to her chin. She was wearing the slacks and shirt she had been given aboard the submarine, and she was very still.

  Jermain said, ‘I just heard. I don’t have to tell you how sorry I am.’ His voice seemed too loud in spite of the rain.

  ‘I know.’ Her eyes shone momentarily in the lamplight. ‘But I think we expected it to happen.’ Her shoulders moved slightly in what might have been either a shrug or a shudder. ‘When I saw him on to the plane he was different. Changed. He didn’t want to go on.’

  Jermain moved closer. ‘He was a good man.’

  ‘I’ve been trying to prepare myself for this.’ Her voice seemed to be coming from a long way off. ‘But it’s not possible, is it? One minute there’s the family. You never think about it really. It’s just there.’ She moved one hand to her face. ‘Then there’s nothing. Nothing left.’

  ‘What will you do, Jill? What do you want to do?’ He felt the urge to hold her, the need to shut out the agony which was tearing her apart.

  She did not seem to hear him. ‘Do you remember Singapore? That night, that one night we had together?’ she stood up and walked away from him. ‘I wanted to tell you then, but I couldn’t be sure. I thought I was lying to myself, as I lied to you.’

  Jermain took a step towards her but she cried, ‘No, David! Let me finish in my own way!’ They both stood quite still, their shadows touching below the lamp.

  Then she continued, ‘I was afraid to let myself believe that it could happen so easily. I didn’t even wait to find out what you thought.’ She tried to laugh. ‘But I watched you sail that morning and tried to let it die inside me. Then on that ship when your men came aboard. And one of them said, “We’re from the Temeraire”, I knew I couldn’t go on without you.’ Her voice shook. ‘I wanted to tell you all this, here in this house. But I couldn’t find the words. Not until now. And now maybe it’s too late!’ She faced him slowly, her body suddenly erect. ‘I told my father about us, about everything.’ Her head dropped, ‘It seemed to please him.’

  She did not resist as he pulled her gently against his body, nor did she look up as he said, ‘I told you it couldn’t end, Jill. I told you.’ Her face felt hot and she was shaking. ‘Everything will be all right, you see.’ He held her tightly as she began to sob uncontrollably. ‘After this things will be different. For both of us.’

  The door opened quietly and Sarah said, ‘I’ve got some brandy.’ She studied them gravely. ‘I’m glad you came, David.’

  The girl released herself from Ids arms and brushed her hand across her face. ‘Can you stay, David?’

  Jermain looked at his sister. She said, ‘I think it would be better. The base can call you if you’re needed. I don’t like being without a man either when the rain comes.’

  They were both looking at him, and Jermain was conscious of the steady downpour across the metal roof. He thought of the submarine and of his earlier depression, but they no longer seemed important.

  ‘I’d like to very much.’

  The girl said quickly, ‘I think I’ll have a shower. It might make me feel better.’

  Jermain followed his sister into the living room and waited as she poured him some brandy. Then she said, ‘She wants to cry so let her do it in private. It will do her good. She’s been going through hell.’

  Jermain stared at the closed door. ‘I liked her father. But I’m glad she stayed here instead of flying out with him. There was nothing she could do anyway.’

  His sister smiled gently. ‘You really are out of touch, David. She stayed to be near you. Now that her parents are dead you are all she has to hold on to.’ She studied him evenly. ‘How do you feel about that?’

  Jermain downed the brandy. ‘I think you know.’

  ‘Well, that’s settled then.’ She sighed and looked at the clock. ‘I’m going to bed. It’s been a long day.’ She touched his arm. Don’t waste a minute of it, David. I nearly did once. You mustn’t make the same mistake.’ She brightened. ‘Which reminds me, I must go and see if the offspring is asleep through all this!’

  She led him to another room. ‘Take this one. I don’t like to use it while John’s away.’ She ran her eye around the familiar furniture. ‘There’s a shower through there.’ She kissed him lightly. ‘It’ll all look better in the morning.’

  Jermain stripped off his clothes and stood beneath the cold shower, his mind still dazed by the swift turn of events. She needed him. She had stayed to be near him. There was no mention of love, but it was enough. More than enough.

  As he switched off the shower he realised with a start that the rain had stopped also. In the strange room the silence seemed suddenly deafening. Through the shutters he could see the pale bars of moonlight and the stark silhouette of dripping trees behind the house. Everything was motionless, like a dream sequence.

  He towelled himself roughly and then threw himself on the bed. She would have to fly back to England. No doubt the flight was already being arranged. He found he could think about it without apprehension. As if he already felt part of her life. He switched off the light and smiled inwardly. Sarah had understood. The sister he had tried to protect and support had made him feel like some immature schoolboy.

  He raised himself on his elbows as the door opened and dosed in one swift movement. Without speaking the girl crossed the room, her bare feet making no sound. She was wearing what appeared to be a man’s bathrobe and her hair was tied back with a piece of ribbon, as if she had just stepped from the shower.

  She sat on the edge of the bed and laid her hand on his chest. ‘I had to come. You were too near.’

  She sat motionless as he untied the bathrobe and let it fall to the floor. In the bright moonlight her naked body gleamed like silver.

  He pulled her down beside him and kissed her throat and the shoulder where he had seen the scars. Her hair was damp and her skin felt cool beneath his touch.

  Then she threw out her arms, her fingers gripping the sheets as he ran his hand gently over her breasts and down across her stomach. ‘Make it last, David! Hurt me if you like, but make it last!’

  His shadow blotted out the moonlight, and he felt her body rising to meet and enfold him with an urgency which made him respond with a fierceness he had never known.

  Only when he was spent and they lay entwined together, each unwilling to release the other, did she speak again.

  ‘I love you, David. Nothing else matters now.’

  He propped himsdf up and stared down at her. It was complete. He could face everything and anything now.

  Her hands moved up behind his neck, and he could feel her breath warm against his chest as she pulled him towards her.

  Outside the moon continued to shine on the trees, and beyond the dip in the hills it glittered briefly across the night sea.

  The sea was quiet, and holding its secrets for the dawn.

  *  *  *

  Wolfe awoke with a violent start as his cabin was flooded with light. ‘What the bloody hell I’ His mouth felt raw from the gin he had consumed a few hours earlier and inside his head the hammers were busy with their relentless tattoo. He glared at his watch and then at Oxley who stood inside the doorway a jacket over his pyjamas. He added with a gasp of disbelief, ‘Hell, it’s only four o’clock!’

  Oxley glanced quickly at the empty bottle on the deck and the pile of half-smoked cigarettes. He said, ‘It’s an emergency, Number One. The captain’s wanted aboard the depot ship in the operations room.’ He added, ‘I’m still O.O.D., so I thought you’d better be told at once.’

  Wolfe rubbed his eyes to clear away the mist. ‘Well, where is the C.O.?’

  ‘Ashore. I have the phone number, but it may take half an hour to get him back here.’

  Wolfe rolled off his bunk, his mind working reluctantly. ‘I’ll bet he’s with that bloody girl!’ He stumbled to one side as he struggled into his trousers. ‘The bitch!’

  Oxley was watching him coldly. ‘Did you say something?’

  Wolfe glared at him. ‘Who wants to see the captain anyway? Christ, it’s one hell of an hour to call, a conference!’

  Oxley shrugged. ‘It doesn’t say on the flimsy, Number One. But there have been lights flashing all over the depot ship. Something big must be happening.’

  Wolfe paused. ‘What about our own W/T? Have we no signals coming in?’

  ‘No. So it must be something to do with the Americans.’

  Wolfe grinned. ‘It would be. They get in a bloody flap at the drop of a hat! I expect their ice-cream supply has been buggered up by the Communists!’

  Oxley sighed. He had had enough of Wolfe the previous evening. Sitting at dinner he had been speaking with Trott, the new assistant T.A.S. officer. Trott appeared to be an eager and willing addition, but he was undoubtedly very dull. He spoke nostalgically about spring in England. About the cricket score, and every other thing which, unbeknown to himself, was calculated to rub raw the brooding sores of the other officers.

  Wolfe had shouted, ‘Well, this isn’t bloody Lord’s, so for God’s sake shut it! I wanted a replacement, not a flaming travel courier!’

  Trott had retired red-faced and fuming from the table, and the mess had lapsed once more into its new state of gloom and inner deliberation.

  Oxley said, ‘Shall I call that number?’

  Wolfe weighed the words in his mind. He had a clear picture of the girl sitting in the wardroom, her half-naked body smeared with oil and salt, her eyes wide from shock.

  He replied coldly, ‘No, I’ll do it. You acknowledge the message and tell’em the captain is on his way.’ He waited until Oxley had gone and then made himself complete his dressing before he left the cabin.

  He reached the radio room where the phone had been connected to the depot ship’s switchboard, and after consulting the dutybook he began to dial the number.

  In spite of his uncontrollable amusement at the idea of disturbing Jennain, Wolfe’s mind kept returning to the other good piece of news he had received two days earlier. The signal had stated clearly that upon return to the United Kingdom Lieutenant-Commander Ian Wolfe would be relieved of his appointment and present himself forthwith for the final Commanding Officers Course. He had been thinking about it when that idiot Trott had started up about England again. What the hell did all that tripe count for? He was going back to work. Real work, with a boat like the Temeraire at the end of it. A command of his own.

  All the agitation and uncertainty was nearly behind him now. The cruel self-discipline he had exerted upon himself was over. But when he had shared his news with Jermain the latter had seemed caught off guard, even unhappy about it.

  Looking back, Wolfe thought he knew why. Jermain stood a good chance of being beached after his affair with the Malange. If he left the Temeraire, Their Lordships would be hunting for a new, well-tried commanding-officer. Wolfe’s heart had given a jump at the sudden realisation that he might well be taking Jeimain’s command, and that Jermain had seen the writing on the wall in the signal’s unemotional wording.

  The telephone clicked and a voice said, ‘Jermain speaking.’ Wolfe said, ‘Recall, sir. You’re wanted aboard the depot ship immediately.’ He grinned at his reflection in the polished panel. The girl was probably stretched out beside him. Her father dead, yet she couldn’t stay away.

  Jermain replied, ‘I’ll come at once. Send a car for me, please.’

  Wolfe heard the sound of a door creaking and a woman’s voice in the background. His grin widened.

  Jermain was covering the mouthpiece with his hand, but nevertheless Wolfe heard him say, ‘It’s all right, Sarah. It’s only the base. You go back to bed.’

  Wolfe felt pressure like a steel band tightening round his skull. He could not speak or think clearly. It was as if he had received some sort of seizure. Dimly he heard Jermain say, ‘Give me fifteen minutes.’ Then the phone went dead.

  Oxley appeared by the door. He watched Wolfe curiously and then said, ‘I’ve sent a car.’ He frowned. ‘Is everything all right, Number One?’

  The phone dropped and swung at the end of its flex as Wolfe turned and pushed past the other man. Oxley replaced the instrument and pursed his lips. Another crisis was in the air. It was better than nothing, he decided.

  *  *  *

  The operations room was like a great steel cavern which ran the full width of the depot ship’s hull. It was crammed with charts and plot tables, with complicated graphs and a barrage of telephones. But the perspex monitoring screens were unlit and unmanned, and all but one of the chart tables covered until the new day.