As a result our evening meal was later than usual. It was also a rather hurried one with Gareth hardly saying a word, his mind concentrated on the problems facing him. One of those problems was, of course, my presence on the ship. Due to the decrease in speed while crossing the track of the US ships, and the fact that we had to alter course to starb'd, our ETA at Mahon the next day had been delayed by about two hours to 08.45. It was hardly likely he would risk putting me ashore in daylight, and once we were tied up at the Naval Base…'
'What are you going to do about me?' I asked him.
He looked at me vaguely. Then his eyes focused as though suddenly recalling my presence in the cabin. 'I haven't decided yet.' He got suddenly to his feet, hesitated, then crossed to his desk. 'This came in just after we cleared that carrier.'Time of receipt of the message he passed to me was 21.13. It read: Weapon that killed forge Martinez found in home of Michael Steele. Police statement just issued indicates Steele arrived Malta on twin-hulled yacht Thunderflash then disappeared. Recent owner of yacht name of Evans also wanted for questioning; thought to be on fishing expedition. Political situation here still tense. In view of what happened Malta suggest you anchor off Villa Carlos well clear of Mahon port area.I was still in a state of shock, reading again the first lines of that message, when he said, 'You understand, I hope — the sooner you're off my ship the better.' I began to protest that I had had nothing to do with the Martinez killing, but he stopped me. 'Whether you were involved or not is immaterial. The gun was apparently found in your house and I've got troubles enough — '
'It wasn't in my house. It was in the port engine compartment — '
'I don't care where it was,' he cut in. 'I want you off the ship and the sooner-'
'For God's sake, listen will you…'
'No, you listen.' His hand was up, an abrupt, imperative gesture. 'I'm sorry, but you must understand. You're dynamite in my present circumstances.' He took the paper from me, staring down at it and muttering something about 'he was bound to be mixed up in it somewhere', then folding it and slipping it into his pocket with a bitter little laugh as he told me I was probably the least of his worries, everybody blaming him for the Malta Incident. 'And the PM insisting I act with more circumspection in Menorca. Circumspection! That'll be the Foreign Office putting their oar in.' The boyish smile flashed out, but it was only a glimmer, then he banged his cap on his head and was gone, hurrying down the ladder to the Communications Office.
I finished my coffee, my mind in turmoil. Finally I went back up to the bridge, preferring contact with the outside world to the confines of the cabin, where I had nothing to do but think about Soo and what the hell had been going on for that gun to have been found in the house.
The watch was just changing, and shortly afterwards young Davison, a fresh-faced, tow-headed officer-under-training appeared at my elbow to say the Captain had phoned to enquire if I would join him for a drink.
I found him sitting hunched over his desk, the reading light pulled down to spotlight the pad on which he had been making notes, his face, his whole body set rigid, and a cigarette smouldering in a scallop-shell ashtray. He looked up, his eyes blank.
'What is it?' I asked. And when he didn't reply, I said, 'You asked me down for a drink.'
'Oh yes.' His eyes blinked quickly and he seemed to pull himself together, jumping to his feet and waving me to a seat at the low table. He picked up the bottle standing there. 'Real cognac, or would you prefer brandy and ginger ale?' I opted for the cognac, and as he poured it the neck of the bottle rattled against the rim of the glass. That, and the awkward silence as he helped himself to a Coke and sat down opposite me, was an indication of how tensed-up he was.
'You're thinking about tomorrow,' I said.
He nodded, stubbing out the remains of his cigarette, lighting another, then leaning back, drawing the smoke into his lungs as though he were at high altitude sucking in oxygen. In the silence that followed I was conscious of the engines, the far-off sound of the bow wave surging along the frigate's side, the rattle of crockery in the steward's pantry., 'I was wondering…' But it's not easy to ask a favour of a man who's in love with your wife. 'Why don't you drop me off on one of the islands as you go into Mahon?' I asked him finally, very conscious of the hesitancy in my voice. He was the Captain of a Royal Navy ship on an official visit and my suggestion was tantamount to smuggling a wanted man back into Spain. And when he didn't say anything, I made the point that I hadn't asked to stay on his ship. 'You virtually kidnapped me.' And I added, 'Drop me off. Forget I was ever on board.'
'Yes, I've thought of that.' He nodded. 'But there's over two hundred men on this ship and most of them know you're here.' He got up, pacing back and forth behind me so nervously that I began to think it must be a more personal matter he wanted to discuss. He and Soo had Felixstowe Ferry, and then Pat arriving?' He nodded. 'He would know, of course — all the gossip, all the things they said. Felixstowe Ferry! My God!' He was smiling and shaking his head. 'Lost my innocence there, found a no-good bastard of a half-brother — then, years later… But you know about that.'
'The Haven buoy?'
He nodded. 'That Haven buoy episode hangs round my neck like a millstone. It's the cause…' He put his head in his hands, rubbing the palms of them over his eyes. 'He crucified me. He didn't know it at the time. He thought he was saving my life, but he crucified me — and now the agony begins.'
'What agony?' I asked. His face had gone very pale, his eyes half-closed. 'You all right?' He looked as though he might pass out. His eyes flicked open then, his mind on something else. I asked him about his use of the word bastard. 'Did you mean that literally? Is Evans your father's illegitimate son?'
He didn't answer for a moment, then suddenly he burst out laughing. 'Is that what Carpenter told you, man? If so, he's got it the wrong way round. Whatever else Pat is, he's legitimate.' And then, his mood changing again, he put his elbows on the table, his head thrust forward. 'Look now, I'm going to tell you something I haven't told anyone else. In confidence, mind you. You'll see why. You've heard part of it, so you may as well know it all. Especially as it's my belief you've now got the boat they brought the stuff ashore in.' He nodded towards the bottle. 'Help yourself. This may take a little time.' He leaned back, drawing on his cigarette. 'The King's Fleet mean anything to you?'
'By the entrance to the Deben River, isn't it?'
He nodded. 'I heard you visited Woodbridge and Felixstowe Ferry a while back when you were searching for a boat. The Fleet was used by the Vikings, and the Romans before them. Now it's cut off from the river by a high flood bank. But there's still a few stretches of water left. When I was about fourteen and living for a time at the Ferry, Pat and I used to bird-watch there. It was a great place for nesting swans, some of the rarer water birds, too.' And he added, 'It was only later I discovered Pat's real interest — he liked to smash the eggs with steel balls fired from a catapult, or try and put out a swan's eye with it.'.