Until that dreadful night when Neil Cartwright snuffed out her life, Sharron and the full committed relationship he had developed in his affair with Sue Owens had given him the only period in his life when he had not felt alone in the world. Eventually, he and Sue had married and in The Gambia he had loved and cared for her for a decade, until her untimely death.
Everything had come full circle. While he was still grieving for Sue he had resolved to return to the UK in order to tick a few more names off his list. He had been so busy planning and carrying out those plans, that he hadn’t had time to think about his loneliness. A few snatched hours with Therese Salter had given him a brief glimpse of a possible future; maybe he could have forged a new life somewhere with her, but she would be checking the news over the next few days looking for confirmation that he was dead. It was only a glimpse after all, she would move on, get on with her life, whether on mainland Europe or wherever she decided to run to.
Colin looked across the lawns towards the woods. There wasn’t really much choice when he had gone over it all in his mind. He was invisible once more.
Colin awoke to find the elderly gentleman standing over him. It was six o’clock; he had fallen asleep in the chair. The old man gave him a brief smile and said:-
“It’s time for my story Phoenix; shall we begin?”
CHAPTER 5
EREBUS — the primeval god of darkness and shadow; the consort of Nyx (Night) whose dark mists enveloped the edges of the world, and filled the deep hollows of the earth. Nyx drew these mists across the heavens to bring night to the world, while their daughter Hemera scattered the mists bringing day.
The old man stood in front of the fireplace and began his story.
“I was born in 1940 here at Larcombe Manor. Male members of my family have been associated with the Royal Navy for centuries; it was impressed upon me from a very early age that this would be my chosen profession. At no time did I entertain doing anything else.
From the age of five when my father took me on a visit to Portsmouth for a ‘Navy Day’ my enthusiasm for the service and my ambition to do my duty never waned. I left school and joined up in 1957; I passed out of Britannia Royal Naval College, Dartmouth and graduated from the Royal Naval Engineering College, Plymouth.
My sea service included several County-class destroyers and I sailed on the aircraft carrier HMS Eagle. Missions included helping to deter an Iraqi invasion of Kuwait in ’62; blocking oil supplies to Rhodesia in ’65; we played ‘silly buggers’ with Iceland and Spain over cod and Gibraltar.
I was then given the opportunity to move back to these shores. I transferred to Portland and joined the staff of FOST (Flag Officer Sea Training) which had been established there in ‘58. FOST was a major success, and the harbour was the world's premier work-up and training base; a world centre of excellence for naval basic and advanced operational training.
Almost every ship in the Royal Navy has at some time taken part there in training programmes, including simulated warfare. In addition many ships of NATO countries also trained and frequented Portland. I enjoyed my time there immensely but I still hankered after another spell at sea. Part of the Falklands task force sailed from Portland in ‘82 and I was fortunate enough to be a privileged member of that taskforce.
As you probably know, we lost several ships and crew; it was not a good time. I saw things in the South Atlantic that I would have gladly missed. On our return, I was given some shore leave; in addition, to my own rehabilitation there were family matters to deal with. I will cover those in a little while. Shortly afterwards I was awarded the OBE; they described my ‘diverse and selfless career’ and my ‘outstanding commitment to my country’.”
“You must have been very proud.” said Colin.
“I was merely doing my duty Phoenix. They had already consigned me to the scrapheap; I hadn’t yet received the letter from my superiors advising me that my career was at an end.
My rather forthright views on those superiors didn’t help my cause. Some admirals in naval operations were more interested in promoting their careers and keeping on the right side of Her Majesty’s Government than protecting the integrity of the honourable traditions of the Royal Navy. Morale throughout the chain of command had plummeted. Good officers were being dismissed from the service based on hearsay and unsubstantiated evidence; other senior officers stood by and allowed men in suits to say there was a cultural problem in the Navy that needed to be addressed, without defending the way of life my whole career had been spent helping to shape and to protect.
It was diabolical! After generations of our family following the same career and upholding the highest values with pride and dedication, they palmed me off with a gong and a pension. I was not going to go quietly into the night Phoenix! I resolved to find a way to do whatever I could to redress the balance; if the Navy was going down the toilet and there was no way I could stop that happening, then my good works must concentrate on other areas. God knows, there were plenty to choose from.”
Colin watched as William Horatio Hunt, whom he would only ever know as Erebus, moved from the fireplace to one of the side tables. He took some items from a drawer. He came back and took his seat in a chair next to him.
“This is a photograph of my wife, Elizabeth. We were on holiday in this one; Ibiza, probably late sixties.”
“She’s very beautiful” said Colin as he was handed the photograph. It showed a smiling, tanned couple clearly in love relaxing on a beach.
“She still is to me old chap” replied his host “we had been married for a couple of years when this was taken. Elizabeth always stayed here at Larcombe Manor while I was overseas; my folks were still alive then, they looked after her and I got home on leave as often as was practical. Our daughter Helen was born following that holiday in the Balearics. Elizabeth struggled a bit with being a mother and with me not being at home to share the burden was a bit of an issue; although I didn’t really appreciate that at the time.
We never managed to have another child; we tried, but for whatever reason, it just didn’t happen. Elizabeth was adamant that we should keep ourselves to ourselves and not involve the doctors. She was struggling with her demons already I suppose and I wasn’t here at Larcombe often enough or long enough to see the signs.
Helen was a beautiful young woman, just like her mother. This is when she was twenty one and just graduated from Reading University.” The old man handed Colin another photograph; the beauty of the girl staring back at him took his breath away.
“I always wonder whether my daughter Sharron would have been clever enough to go to University” said Colin wistfully “she was so artistic.”
“Helen got a first; she was passionate about ecology and wildlife conservation. We still had horses here then and she rode every day around the countryside. She would have gone on to make a difference in the world, of that I’m certain.”
Colin looked down at the picture he was still holding.
“What happened to her?”
“Helen had various jobs around the country and as she was footloose and fancy free, no ties to talk of, she moved when the mood took her, working on different projects and building up an impressive reputation. Perhaps her biological clock was ticking and she thought about settling down, who knows? In her last post she was working for the local Wildlife Trust and was based in Cheddar Gorge; she had met a young chap called John Maunder who was teaching at a school in Bath; it seemed as if they were a pretty good match. I liked the young fellow anyway.