‘No. I’ll see how it works out.’
‘Good. Especially as I’ll have to take some of your people anyway. Tobey, your boatswain, and a few other key ratings. I need them as replacements. You’ll have to fill the gaps from the next incoming draft.’ He smiled grimly. ‘Straight from the training depot, naturally.’
The telephone buzzed and Lovelace snapped, ‘I will see the commanding officer of Merlin in three minutes. Tell him to warm his backside on your fire until I’m ready.’
Lindsay stood up. ‘Any orders for me, sir?’
‘Soon.’ Lovelace looked distant again, already grappling with the endless complications of his office.. ‘I’ve told the maintenance commander to do all he can. The repair ship is standing by to help, but anything she or your people can’t manage will have to wait. I’m afraid a week is about all you can expect, so work along those lines. I hear you’ve completed refuelling, so you can allow local leave whenever it suits you.’
Lindsay picked up his cap. The whisky was burning his stomach like fire. All a question of priorities, and his old ship was very far down that list. A week, and back to patrol duty. Ice. Men being worn out by cold and endless discomfort. They were the dangerous times, when small personal needs blunted a man’s vigilance. Maybe Loch Glendhu’s people had been like that. Too tired, too beaten down by the seemingly futile patrol to see their peril until it was beyond their scope.
He said, ‘Thank you for the drink, sir.’
Lovelace grinned. ‘My pleasure. I hear so much gloom that it’s a real prize to meet somebody who’s achieved something at last!’
Lindsay left the office, and as he walked through the adjoining room he saw the officer who was waiting for the next interview. A full rank junior to Lindsay, yet. he commanded the Merlin, a new and powerful fleetdestroyer which was lying quite near to Benbecula’s buoy. He watched Lindsay pass, his face curious. When he had left the room Lindsay could imagine the little scene. The young lieutenant-commander would ask politely who he was. The Chief of Staff’s secretary would tell him. In the mind of the Merlin’s captain a whole new picture would form. Nobody to bother with. Just the captain of that old A.M.C. Looked all right, and seemed bright enough, but with a command like her he must have something wrong with him.
He stood stockstill in the deserted passageway, spent and despairing. Damn them. Damn them all to hell.
‘Are you all right, sir?’
Lindsay swung round and saw the girl standing just inside the blackout curtain by the main entrance. As before she was muffled to the ears, and her feet and legs were encased in a pair of muddy rubber boots.
He stared at her for several seconds. ‘Yes, thank you.’ He tried to smile, seeing the doubt and concern in her eyes. ‘A bit bushed, that’s all.’
She took off her jaunty cap and shook out her hair vigorously. ‘I saw you come in this morning.’ She was still studying him, her eyes troubled. ‘We all heard about what happened.’
‘A door opened and closed with a bang and another Wren, also heavily covered in duffel coat and scarf, passed Lindsay without a glance. As she reached the door the Wren called Eve Collins tossed her an ignition key and said, ‘Thanks for relieving me early, Sue. Watch out for ice on the roads.’
The other girl paused and looked at Lindsay. ‘Do it for me sometime.’ Then she was gone, the blackout curtain swirling momentarily in a jet of cold air.
She said quietly, ‘I’m glad you made it back all right, sir.’
Lindsay recalled the flashing headlights on the shore, the signalman who had seen them.
He said, ‘One of the bunting tossers read your message when we left Scapa. It was nice of you to see us off.’
She grinned. ‘Thank him for me, will you? My morse isn’t too hot.’
Then she saw his expression and added huskily, ‘Was he killed?’
‘Yes.’ He tried to shut it all from his aching mind. Ritchie’s face. The wet oilskins by the rail. We commit his body to the deep.
He said abruptly, ‘I wonder if you’d care to have a drink with me?’ He saw the sudden surprise and added, ‘Maybe we could get a meal or something?’
She replaced her cap very slowly. ‘I’m sorry. I really am.’
‘You’ve got a date?’ It was all suddenly clear. The other Wren relieving her early. Do it for me sometime.
She did not smile. ‘Something like that.’ She looked away. ‘I can break it though.’
‘No. It’s all right.’ He thrust his hands into his greatcoat pockets, trying to sound casual. That it did not matter. He did not even know why it had all become so urgent and important. ‘Forget it.
The curtain swirled inwards again and a R.A.F. flightlieutenant blundered into the lamplight, banging his gloved hands together.
‘I guessed you’d take half the night to get changed! I’ve got a car outside. I’ll run you to your billet.’ He saw Lindsay and said awkwardly, ‘Oh, sorry!’
She said, ‘Jack, this is Commander Lindsay.’ Then she turned to him again, her voice very quiet. ‘The fighter boys are giving a dance at the field. Why don’t you come, too? It might be. a change from-‘ She looked at the flight-lieutenant. ‘What do you say, Jack? It would be all right, wouldn’t it?’
‘Of course.’ He did not sound very enthusiastic.
Lindsay smiled. ‘I must get back to my ship. They’ll be waiting to hear the news.’ He looked at the R.A.F. officer and back to the girl. ‘But thanks again. Enjoy yourselves.’
Then he was outside in the darkness, the icy wind driving down his throat, making his eyes water like tears.
In the passageway the flight-lieutenant spread his hands. ‘So?’
She tightened her-scarf and frowned. ‘So nothing. He’s a good bloke, that’s all.’
He grinned. ‘A full commander, too. By God, Eve, I admire your sense of priorities!’
Out on the roadway Lindsay heard her laugh and the sound of the car driving away. He had made an idiot of himself, and it mattered. It mattered so much he could feel it like pain.
Aloud he said, ‘You bloody fool. You stupid bloody fool!’
Then he quickened his pace and turned once more towards the sea.
Lindsay was working at his desk when Goss, followed by Fraser, entered his day cabin.
‘Sit, gentlemen.’ He pressed the bell beside his desk and added, ‘Nearly noon. We’ll have a drink.’
He watched Goss’s heavy features as he selected a chair, noting the deep lines around his mouth and eyes. It had been a busy time for the whole ship, but the effect on Goss was even more noticeable. Captain Lovelace had been right about. the timing, he thought bitterly. A week is about all you car expect.
He looked at the two men and said slowly, ‘I have just received our orders. We are at forty-eight hours notice for steam.’
Fraser muttered, ‘A week and a day.- That’s all they’ve given us.’ Then he grinned. ‘Generous bastards!’
Lindsay turned to Goss. ‘What about you, Number One? Are you all buttoned up?’
Poor Goss, he had taken the time in harbour badly. Lindsay had watched him arguing with engineers and workers from the repair, ship, seen him following the mechanics and welders between the Benbecula’s decks like an old hen trying to protect its chickens from a pack of rampaging foxes. But for Fraser’s excellent- work on repairs while the ship had been returning to the Flow it was hard to see how they could have managed. The shell holes in the hull had been covered by new plates, and with the aid of fresh paint the outer damage would pass unnoticed to all but an experienced eye. Inboard, the repairs had been equally brief, a case of patch up and hope for the best, as one dockyard official had described it.