16
Old Friends
Drummond sat in his day cabin watching Beaumont’s bulky shadow as it soared back and forth across the white paint like an angry spectre.
It had been hard to get a taxi from Edinburgh at this time of night, and all the way to the dockyard he had wondered what was so important to bring him back. Sheridan had said little on the telephone, other than to assure him that there was nothing wrong with the ship.
He had found Beaumont fuming by the wardroom stove, his jacket drying on a chairback while he sipped repeatedly from a silver flask. To see him in such disarray, something which had never happened before, suggested a really serious situation.
Now, as he watched the other man and listened to his barely controlled anger, he found he was able to match it calmly, instead of feeling the resentment he might have expected.
Beaumont was saying, “By God, I thought I knew about men, and in you I believed I had found a loyal, trustworthy officer.”
Drummond said sharply, “Look, sir, I’ve listened to you for ten minutes. I still don’t know what was so urgent to get me out of bed.”
Beaumont glared at him. “Bed? Yes, I expected you to be with her!” But as Drummond made to rise to his feet he hurried on, “No matter! I don’t give a damn what you get up to. All I know is that people have been plotting against me behind my back, creating a vendetta, when I have, through my own efforts and trust, given them nothing but success and pride.”
Drummond eyed him coldly. “I was interviewed some days ago by Vice-Admiral Brooks. He asked for my opinion. I gave it. I still believe that the plan of attack was right, but wrongly executed.”
Beaumont paused in his movements and stared down at him, his face flushed and triumphant.
“It bloody well worked, didn’t it?”
“Good men died unnecessarily, sir.”
“In your opinion!”
“Yes.”
Beaumont seemed momentarily confused by the bald reply.
He exclaimed, “And another thing. You went to see that rating in a Manchester hospital. She put you up to it, didn’t she?” He shook both fists in the air. “After all I’ve done!”
Drummond thought of their visit to the small hospital. The thing which had made it worse had been the quiet.. Absolute. Until it had seemed to press on the eardrums like thunder.
And the man, Carson. Lying in a steel cot, hands exactly placed on the neat bed-cover. Like two lifeless claws.
A doctor had already admitted that the hospital had been able to do little for him. Or for many of the others. Drummond had felt the girl gripping his arm, as if fearful of being separated from him as they had followed the doctor past silent wards.
Gaunt-looking men in dressing-gowns. Leaning on sticks and crutches, or merely standing by the windows watching the rain without any sort of recognition. It was strange how their suffering had moulded them. They all looked the same age. The same build.
Carson had showed a tiny flicker of recognition when his eyes had finally settled on Sarah.
Drummond had said quietly, “I want to ask you something.”
The contact had gone instantly, like the snapping off of a light.
But she had whispered, “You can speak.” She had reached out to take Drummond’s hand. “Trust him, please.”
Carson’s eyes had ventured round very slightly. Then in a strange, tuneless voice he had muttered, “It was true. We was on the raft. I was almost done in, but I could ‘ear ‘em shoutin’ at each other. Like madmen they was.”
“Who?”
“Beaumont.” The man had closed his eyes tightly. “The bloody bastard!” A clawlike hand had groped over to touch the girl. ” ‘Im an’ your brother. I was a messenger on Conqueror’s bridge. I ‘eard the admiral askin’ Beaumont’s advice about some signal or other. Beaumont kept sayin’ over an’ over, it was right to send the destroyers away.”
The doctor had interrupted worriedly, “I think that’s enough. It’s weakened him quite a lot. You’ll have to go, I’m afraid.”
That same doctor had probably telephoned higher authority. Beaumot. Brooks. Anyone.
Drummond said quietly, “You’re not the only one with responsibility, sir.” If he had hit Beaumont he could not have affected him more. “I have my own ship to consider. The lives of all the men who are working with me at any given time. You must realise that? There’s more to fighting a war than medals.”
“Of course I do. D’you take me for a complete fool?”
It was almost dawn. In a few more moments the cook would be roused, anyone might hear Beaumont shouting. Drummond stood up quickly. It was too late to turn back. Too much depended on it. On him.
He said evenly, “When you took the flotilla on exercises, and we had the luck to capture a German midget submarine, one which up to then had been virtually unknown to the Allies, I believe you saw your way clear. I did not really understand what could happen to a man caught up in a system of ideas not of his own making. But I do now. Part of it anyway.”
He expected Beaumont to shut him up. To put him under arrest. The silence was like that at the hospital.
He continued, “You wanted to use your reputation to gain advancement. It’s not uncommon. But you did not see that every man has his limitation, beyond which he’s a menace. A threat to everyone who relies on him.”
Beaumont sounded hoarse, as if his collar was too tight. “You dare to suggest that I would risk lives for my own benefit?”
“I think, sir, that you saw the midget submarine as a useful lever for your next appointment. Far more senior officers than you have been tempted, sir.”
“Go on.” Beaumont sat down in a chair, never taking his gaze from Drummond’s face for a second. “I can’t wait to hear your verdict!”
Drummond said quietly, “Try to think about it, sir. Before it’s too late. You’ve allowed yourself to be used. Used beyond your scope. When you consider the odds against success on that last raid, I think we are all being driven beyond it.”
“Really. “Beaumont dragged on his coat, breathing heavily. “I’m glad I came now. I needed to cut through red tape. To treat you fairly. As a man, not a subordinate. ” He smiled to himself. “I didn’t expect you to be pleased at the visit, but I did anticipate you would do me the favour of understanding. Of understanding that our work must arise above personal and petty ideals.” He paused and glanced at himself in the mirror. “However, I know the strain you have been under. Some react differently from others in such matters. Far too much depends on the efficiency of this unit to waste time and labour on you. You do your part and obey orders, and I’ll ask nothing more. Use your present fame to damage me, or to gain rewards for yourself, and you will regret it. As will others.”
He faced Drummond, apparently composed, and with nothing to show for his heavy drinking. “Sarah Kemp’s brother was a fool and a coward. I tried to save his life, as I did others. After Conqueror went down, when I met Sarah Kemp and saw her despair, how could I tell her that her brother was a screaming, yellow-bellied coward?” He sighed. “Even at the risk of damaging my own reputation by lying about what happened, I could not bring myself to hurt that woman further.”
Drummond watched the returning power in the man. Like sunrise on hard metal. Beaumont had found a weakness and would use it ruthlessly if pushed further.
He said, “Thank you for confiding in me, sir.” He did not hide his disgust and contempt.
Beaumont picked up his cap. “Don’t try to dislodge me.” He looked round sharply as Owles appeared in the doorway. “Sorry. Can’t stop for coffee.” He smiled at the steward’s confusion. “But I daresay your captain needs one. Now.”