Jessop’s shudder was mercifully hidden from view by the darkness. Surely they didn’t intend to dump the women overboard. He recovered his composure. They probably wanted to ferry them ashore without being seen.
‘There’s a dinghy and a jolly boat tied up to the portside boom.
Hamilton guessed what was going through his mind. He started down the gangway to the submarine, grinning to himself. Jessop seemed such a bloody fool he couldn’t resist a parting shot.
‘Thanks, old boy. And don’t worry if you hear a splash. It’ll only be my Number One disposing of the bodies.’ He winked broadly at Mannon. ‘That’ll give the pompous little prick something to think about,’ he said in an undertone. ‘Now let’s go down and get our guests sorted out.’
The two Chinese seamen and the girl were squeezed into the control room, with what appeared to be at least half of Rapier’s ship’s company. The three survivors were strenuously resisting the combined efforts of the submariners to drag them out on deck, and jabbering wildly to anyone who would listen. The arrival of the captain brought the fight to an abrupt stop and the men straightened up respectfully as Hamilton ducked through the forward hatch and entered the brightly fit compartment.
‘Sorry about the commotion, sir,’ Blood apologized anxiously. ‘But we can’t get these bloody Chinks to leave the boat. And I can’t make head nor tail of what they’re yelling about.’
Hamilton turned to the three Chinese, who immediately threw themselves on to their knees and began kowtowing to him.
‘Mister Captain,’ Chen Yu began. ‘We no go. We belong you. British sailors no understand.’
Hamilton hid his smile and looked sternly at his unwanted guests. Having made his speech, Chen Yu was again bowing with frantic urgency, while his companion kept his face pressed against the deck. The girl, however, sat back on her haunches and looked the lieutenant straight in the eye.
‘You know ancient customs, sir. I am yours. You no want?’
At that precise moment Hamilton decided he wanted her very much. Now that she had recovered from her ducking, she looked delicately pretty with a soft mouth and dark, inviting eyes. And, despite the unflattering shapelessness of the submariner’s sweater someone had lent her, he could see the promise of her slender body. He motioned them to get up off their knees.
‘I did a tour out here in 1937,’ he told Mannon, as the two men and the girl got up from the deck. ‘It’s a custom amongst the river people. If a Chinaman is saved from drowning, he becomes the property of his rescuer for the rest of his life.’
‘I bet you’re glad you were the one who saved the girl, sir,’ Mannon grinned. ‘I don’t fancy Morgan’s chances with that brute on the left.’
The gunner’s mate apparently shared Mannon’s apprehension. He had already been involved in the struggle to get the Chinese on deck and looked as if he had received the worst of the argument.
‘You’re pulling my leg, sir. What the hell can I do with him when I go back to Cardiff after the war? And what’s my missus going to say about it?’
Hamilton rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘Fortunately, I think I know a way to solve the problem. It was a few years ago now, but I can still remember how one of our gunboat skippers got around the difficulty.’
‘What did he do, sir?’ Morgan asked eagerly, with a sideways look of vengeance at Wan Fu. ‘Threw ’em back in again?’ The Chinaman, unable to understand what was being said, glowered back at the Welshman and bared his teeth ferociously.
‘Not quite, Chief. We just take them inshore where the water’s shallow and leave them to paddle the last few yards. That way we observe the ancient custom and they don’t lose face. And ‘face’ is very important in the East.’ He turned to Mannon. ‘Take a couple of men with you, Number One, and bring Thracian’s dinghy alongside.’ The two Chinamen had not understood Hamilton’s explanation and, expecting to be thrown over the side and drowned, renewed their struggle with Morgan and the other submariners as they were dragged out of the control room towards the fore hatch. The girl, however, seemed unperturbed. She stepped in front of Rapier’s captain, looked up at him with her large dark eyes, and smiled. Apart from a slight difficulty with grammatical construction, her English was good, although Hamilton detected traces of an American accent.
‘I am naturally disappointed, Lieutenant,’ she told him with a wicked dimple, ‘but perhaps you are a man of wisdom. I will explain to the others.’
‘Thank you,’ Hamilton paused awkwardly. ‘What will you do about the boat? I hope it was insured.’
‘The boat is of no consequence,’ the girl said easily. ‘My father has others. I will see that he rewards you for what you have done.’
‘There’s no call for that,’ Hamilton said quickly. He didn’t want some poor Chinese fisherman giving up his life’s savings although, somehow, the girl didn’t quite fit into that picture◦– and the Chris Craft cruiser must have been worth all of £20,000. ‘It’s just part of the Royal Navy’s service.’ He paused and searched for something else to say. ‘You speak excellent English,’ he added a trifle lamely.
‘I ought to, Lieutenant,’ the girl laughed. ‘I graduated from Harvard two years ago. You mustn’t think that all Chinese people are peasants. And, in any case, I am half-Portuguese.’
Pandemonium suddenly erupted above their heads, as the submariners dragged the two protesting Chinamen up onto the fore casing and struggled to put them into the waiting dinghy. The din was indescribable and it sounded as if Wan Fu and his companion were fighting a battle to the death with the British sailors. Hamilton was about to start up the fore hatch ladder to try and sort matters out when he felt the girl catch hold of his arm.
‘No, Lieutenant. They are my people. I will go. They will listen to me.’
She kissed him lightly on the cheek and disappeared up the ladder before he could think of anything adequate to say….
Wan Fu’s protestations quickly faded away as Chai Chen appeared on deck. She addressed the two men sharply in Cantonese and they exchanged sheepish looks with each other. Then, with expressive shrugs, they climbed down into the dinghy without further argument.
By the time Hamilton had reached the bridge, the little boat was already threading its way past the anchored destroyers towards the shore. And as it was finally swallowed up in the evening mist the small figure, still wearing the white regulation issue submariner’s sweater, raised an arm and waved. As Hamilton waved back, he suddenly realized that he didn’t even know her name….
COMMANDER ARITSU UNHOOKED his sword and laid it carefully on top of the low bamboo table against the wall. Then, dismissing the two army guards, he settled back in a comfortable armchair and gestured Hamilton to join him.
‘Now that we have concluded the formalities, Lieutenant, I see no reason why we should not be friends. May I offer you a drink?’
Hamilton could think of several reasons for rejecting Aritsu’s olive-branch. The public apology delivered at the end of the funeral of the two dead aviators had been an unnerving and humiliating experience and it had taken iron discipline to go through with it. The text of the apology had been drafted by the Foreign Office representative in Hong Kong, and the hypocritical and demeaning words had stuck in his throat. Hamilton personally entertained no regrets for what he had done, and he was still seething with fury at the British authorities for imposing such an unnecessary indignity on the Royal Navy. But when Commander Aritsu invited him back to his office after the ceremony, curiosity had got the better of his feelings. The gesture of friendship, abhorrent though he found it, only served to whet his curiosity even further.