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Through the open wheelhouse door he heard Stan

nard’s voice as he handed over his watch.

‘Course still two-two-zero. One-one-zero revs.’ He heard Hunter’s muffled reply.

Stannard walked on to the wing and stared at the ships.

‘Quite a sight, sir.’

Lindsay glanced at him. He looked strained and sounded as much. He had not spoken of his brother again and made an obvious effort to be his old self. But the signs were only too clear. Perhaps when he got involved with the new navigation course and his next ship he might be too busy to brood.

‘How does it feel, sir?’

Lindsay saw the Australian’s eyes move to his shoulder straps. The fourth gold stripe was very bright and new against the others.

The unexpected promotion had been one of the first= things which Goss had mentioned when he had returned from the two days leave. You never really knew a man like Goss. If he was deadly serious or trying-to hold on to a secret joke.

He had said, ‘Two bits of news, sir. One good. One not so good.’

The good news had been Lindsay’s advancement to captain. The bad had been Commodore Kemp’s arrival on board.

He smiled. ‘I don’t feel any different.’

It was true. Once, years back, he would have imagined that reaching the coveted rank was all a young officer could wish for. He had changed. Everything seemed and felt different now.

Stannard seemed surprised. ‘It’s just that ‘I’ve never seen you looking so well, sir. I guess I’ll never know the strain of command. Not sure I want to.’

Lindsay looked at the ships. ‘I am getting married when we reach the U.K.’

Stannard gasped. ‘Well, Jeez, that is, I’m very glad, sir.’ He held out his hand. ‘Hell, that’s good news.’

‘You’re the first to know.’ He wondered why he had told Stannard. Just like that. Seeing his obvious pleasure made him glad he had.

‘Certainly sudden, sir.’

A signalman called, ‘From the John P. Ashton, sir. Permission to reduce speed. Engine failure.’

Lindsay nodded. ‘Affirmative. Better now than when we run into trouble.’

The ship in question was an American destroyer, and apart from Benbecula the oldest in the convoy. They had been launched the same year, and Lindsay could sympathise with her captain’s problems. She was one of the old four-pipers, now on way to be handed over on loan to the Royal Navy for anti-submarine duty. She was not the first to change flags by this arrangement, but unlike the others she had been on picket duty at Singapore when the Japanese had struck. Now, rolling unsteadily abovee her own image, she was falling away on the convoy’s flank, her captain no doubt praying that the fault was nothing fataclass="underline"

Ahead of the convoy two other destroyers were barely visible in sea haze, but Lindsay knew one to be the Merlin. Her captain would be thinking, too. Of his next command. Not one ship but a group. A positive job. Something which really mattered.

For the first time since rejoining the ship he felt the return of resentment 4nd bitterness. Ashore, he had tried to hide his feelings from Eve, guessing she was probably grateful for his new, appointment. You could not get drowned or burned alive in a training depot. Unless you were born unlucky.

But now, as he watched the escorting cruiser, the wink of signal lamps, he knew the same feeling.

He saw de Chair standing on the forward deck watching some of his marines exercising with Bren guns. In their shorts and boots, their bodies tanned from Ceylon’s swimming and sunlight, they looked like strangers.

‘From. John P. Ashton, sir. Am under way again.’ The man paused. ‘This chicken is ready for the pot.’

Stannard said, ‘What a helluva name for a ship. I wonder who he was.’

Lindsay grinned. ‘Old or not, she’ll be very welcome. Just about anything afloat is wanted now.’

Eighteen days out of Ceylon the convoy was off the Cape of Good Hope and heading north-west into the Atlantic. Each day was much like the preceding one. Drills and general routine, with the weather still warm and friendly.‘ The leading destroyers had been relieved by another pair from Cape Town, and the Royal Indian Navy sloop which followed them this far had returned to her own, country. The cruiser was still with them, and surprisingly, so was the John P. Ashton. She had had two minor breakdowns but always she seemed to manage to be there when a new dawn broke.

As the forenoon watch took stations around the ship, Lindsay climbed up to the bridge and found Commodore Kemp sitting in his chair staring at the open sea across the bows. Goss had the watch but was on the starboard wing, apparently staying as far as possible from his superior. The latter had hardly shown himself throughout the voyage so far. He had a large cabin aft, formerly an extended stateroom for. very important passengers, which was still retained for much the same reason, although Lindsay suspected Goss’s sentiment had a good dealto do with it.

Kemp turned as Lindsay saluted formally. ‘I was going to send for you.’ He turned to stare forward again. ‘I’ve Stannard looked up at the masthead and said quietly, ‘Except the Becky. They don’t want her any more.’.

Lindsay looked away. ‘I know how you feel.’ What he had said once. before to Stannard. ‘But there’s nothing we can do about it.’

Stannard sighed. ‘Well, [think I’ll get my head down, sir. Plenty to do later, I guess.’

Lindsay waited until he had left the bridge and then raised his glasses to study the second ship of the centre column. It was just possible he might catch-a glimpse of her.

just had a top secret signal from Admiralty.’ He sounded hoarse, and Lindsay’wondered if he was drinking heavily in his private quarters. ‘Been a spot of bother off the Cape Verde Islands. A freighter has been sunk Believed to have been shelled by a surface ship.’ He shifted his shoulders beneath the spotless drill jacket. ‘Not our problem, naturally, but it’s as well to know these things.’

Lindsay watched him narrowly. ‘Was that all, sir?’

‘Admiralty appears to think there may be some connection with another report. A cruiser was badly damaged by a mine. Too far out in the Atlantic for a drifting one from a field. Dropped with some others apparently, on the off chance of hitting any stray ship.in the area.’ ‘

Lindsay clenched his fists to steady himself. ‘It must be that raider again. Has to be.’

Kemp replied evasively, ‘We don’t know that for certain. Nobody does. Anyway, if the two attacks are connected, the Hun is in for a shock. This convoy is on the top secret list, and so is our additional cruiser screen. If the enemy tries to tangle with us, I can whistle up enough heavy guns to cut him into little shreds!’ He swivelled in the chair and glared at him. ‘Satisfied?’

Lindsay caught the smell of brandy. ‘Not entirely.’

He walked to the teak rail and ran his hands along it. ‘Was there any other information from the freighter before she was silenced?’

Kemp swallowed. ‘She was a Greek. Said she was going to the assistance of a Spanish merchantman which was in difficulties.’

Lindsay bit his lip. How long would it take for people to realise and see through this simple trick? Without effort he could visualise the savage gunflashes against the drifting ice, the burning hull and the Wren who was blind.

Kemp was right about one thing. If the raider came upon this convoy, even the one cruiser in company should be more than a match. But with the distant screen as well she would not stand an earthly, even of getting in range.

Kemp appeared to think his silence was an acceptanceand added curtly, ‘In another week we’ll be meeting with a heavy additional escort from Freetown.’ The thought seemed to give him new confidence. ‘Like a clock, that’s how I like things.’