He said enthusiastically, “Pretty good show! Just a few dents, but otherwise as sound as a bell. And a few more dents won’t be noticed.” He patted the scored and pitted plates with affection. “Lost a lot of coal, but the bomb would have blown your ship to blazes, literally that is!” He rubbed his hands on his shorts. “You know about the old Noah’s Ark stunt then?”
Trewin nodded. There was something very likeable and reassuring about Adair. “Yes. I’m to fetch Mrs. Corbett and bring her aboard immediately you’re ready.”
Adair shrugged. “I’m ready now. We’ll unslip her as soon as I can kick the arses of the dockyard maties, and then my chief’ll try and get steam up again.” He eyed Trewin with sudden seriousness. “I hope you get away, too. I don’t like to think of running out like this.”
Trewin glanced up at the ship’s smashed and sagging battery deck, the dried bloodstains around the severed gun mounting. “I think you’ve done your share.”
Adair grinned, himself again. “Poor old cow!” He signalled to another filthy figure. “Number One! Tell the top man to prepare the slipway. He can drop her in the drink as soon as he’s ready. You can take over for a bit.” He looked at Trewin. “I’m going to drive this gentleman on an errand of mercy.”
Trewin followed him up the greasy slipway. Then Adair added, “I’ve got a shooting brake laid on. I’ll drive you myself. It’ll help to blow the jitters away.”
Trewin beckoned to Petty Officer Dancy who had accompanied him in the boat, and Adair said cheerfully, “Good! An extra pair of hands will be useful at a time like this.”
They drove in silence through the shadowed and sunlit streets, the battered shooting brake the only civilian vehicle in sight. There were plenty of soldiers on the march, their feet churning up the dust, their eyes unseeing beneath their helmets as they headed towards the northern side of the city. More troops stood in listless columns, leaning on their rifles, staring into space. They did not look defeated, merely baffled, as they stood and waited for something to happen to them.
As they passed a narrow sidestreet Trewin saw some people smashing into a native store while the owner and his family screamed and pleaded in the faces of the determined looters. Some Indian policemen stood at the corner, their backs turned to the scene, and Adair said shortly, “This is the worst part. When order gives way to empty vandalism. They are merely hurting each other, maybe because they are afraid, like the rest of us!”
They swung aside as a line of ambulances bounced down the road towards the hospital, and Trewin caught sight of limp khaki figures with brightly bandaged limbs and pale dazed faces.
Adair drove on again, his eyes on the shuttered houses and the aimless groups of townspeople at every intersection. He said, “I had to come with you on this trip. I wanted to see it all for myself. So that I shall remember. Always!”
Dancy said sharply, “Heads up! There’s an aircraft!”
Adair gunned the engine as a black shadow flashed overhead and craned his neck to watch as the plane lifted above the line of houses as if following the road.
Trewin felt the sudden down-draught of air and heard the sigh of wind against the plane’s wings, and saw that its prop was stiff and motionless and a long streamer of smoke was already pouring out from beneath the fuselage, above which he could see the pilot’s helmeted head and the red sun insignia of Japan.
Adair said tightly, “The bastard’s going to crash! He must have been trying to get back to his own side.”
The brake swung around the bend in the road and Trewin seized Adair’s arm with sudden anxiety. “He’s coming down now! For God’s sake, he’ll land right on Corbett’s house!”
Adair said, “Christ Almighty!” Then he pressed his foot hard down and simultaneously blared a shrill alarm on the horn. For a moment it seemed as if the pilot was going to clear the house completely. Then as the black shadow crossed the gates the nose dipped, and with a shattering roar the plane ploughed into the roof and exploded, so that the car was showered with falling stonework and pieces of torn metal from the aircraft itself.
As the car’s engine stopped Trewin heard the crackle of flames and saw the rising plume of black smoke lifting and spreading until it reached out to engulf the whole building. He was running, heedless of the others behind him or the menacing sound of flames and the attendant stench of petrol.
He reached the porch and saw with despair the gleam of sunlight where the roof should have been. At the end of the long room he could see the smashed nose and engine of the enemy fighter with the cockpit still intact. Its perspex was soaked in blood, and he saw the pilot moving from side to side like a trapped animal as the creeping flames licked up and around his prison, but Trewin hardly spared him a glance.
He shouted her name, his voice all but lost in the sound of flames and falling woodwork, and he was pulling aside the splintered timbers with his hands, fighting to break through the barrier, his mind empty of everything but finding Clare Massey.
The passageway was already alight, and he felt the old terror welling up inside him, and he was held momentarily motionless by the flames’ cruel glitter. They seemed to be burning again at his shoulder, and in his reeling mind he seemed to hear his men crying out as they perished one by one in the creeping fire across the water.
Then he found he was through, and he heard her calling his name.
12 | Even the Innocent
FOR A MOMENT Trewin could see nothing. The passageway was thick with smoke being sucked greedily downwards from the shattered roof, and his eyes were streaming, leaving him half blind. Then he saw her. She was crouching beside a fallen beam, her face pale against the black rectangle of a door. He reached her in two strides and pulled her against his chest. He did not know what he was saying, but was only conscious of holding her, of feeling her face and arms as he tried to soothe her and protect her from the growing heat around them.
She cried, “I can’t get the door open! Oh, Ralph, the boy’s in there!”
Dancy appeared in the passage, his shirt blackened and torn as he pushed through the debris, his arms groping as he yelled, “Lieutenant Adair’s getting help, sir!” He retched then added, “The whole place’ll go up any second!”
Trewin released the girl’s hands from his shoulders and said harshly, “Get her out the back!” Then he stood back against the wall and threw his full weight against the door.
With a crack it flew open, and Trewin felt the flames searing his face like hot knives. There was no roof, and he could see the thick smoke pouring towards the sky, the eager fire leaping from one piece of furniture to the next, as if guided by an invisible hand.
The Chinese amah was lying face down on the floor pinioned by a smouldering beam, her clothes and body already alight like a human torch. The child sat against the opposite wall, his eyes fixed on the dead woman, and for a brief instant Trewin imagined that he was too terrified to move.
There was a dull explosion beyond the wall and a great tongue of orange flame burst upwards through the floor as the plane’s fuel tank exploded.
Trewin could hear the girl sobbing and screaming his name, and Dancy shouting through the rising roar of flames, but he could not bring himself to move. His shirt was flaking in the heat, and when he tried to draw breath his lungs felt raw and seared, yet still he could not move.
Dimly he heard the clang of a bell and more voices far off and confused. As another piece of flooring gave way in a burst of sparks he held his breath and threw himself across the room, his mind empty of all but the child. As he swooped his body into his arms he realised that the flames had joined behind him and the whole place was full of fire and noise. He knew he was shouting, yet could hear and see nothing but the flames.
Then Dancy was at his side, and he found himself being pulled bodily from the room, his feet like lead as he stumbled blindly through a door and out into the air and hazy sunlight. Vaguely he saw Adair gesturing to a group of helmeted firemen and some soldiers running with a
stretcher. Then he sank to his knees and lowered the boy on to the grass.
He looked up, trying to control the rising nausea in his throat. He said, “He’s dead!”
The girl dropped beside him, her eyes suddenly bright in the flames. She whispered, “His eyes are open!” It sounded as if she was pleading with him to be wrong.
Trewin looked at the boy’s face. It was just as it had been when he had sat watching his dead amah. He closed the child’s eyes. His face was still warm from the burning room, as if he was indeed alive.
“He must have died instantly. Probably a shock wave from the plane’s bomb.” He looked across at the girl. “Is Mrs. Corbett there, too?”
She did not take her eyes from the dead child. “No. She went to visit someone in town.” Her lip was trembling but her voice was strangely controlled. “I told her we should leave here. I told her. But she insisted on making her last visit.”
Then she looked up, her eyes filling her face as she stared at Trewin. “That was a wonderful thing you did just then. I saw your face as you looked at the fires. I never understood what war could do before. Not until today, when I saw it in your eyes.”
Trewin stood up slowly and swayed. He heard Adair say, “There’s nothing more we can do here.”
Dancy was looking down at the boy’s relaxed body. Then he brushed his blackened hand across his eyes and said, “Damn them! Damn them all to hell!”
Trewin felt the girl’s arm around his waist and heard her ask, “Are you all right, Ralph? Please tell me you’re all right!”
He looked down at her and tried to smile. “I’m over it now.” Then very gently he ran his hand over her hair, feeling it, gaining strength from the small contact.
“Thank God you were safe, Clare!”
She replied quietly, “The admiral telephoned and told us to go to the harbour. He even sent a car for our luggage.” She shuddered violently as she relived each moment. “Then Mildred Corbett left us here.” She looked up at him, her eyes filled with anxiety. “We must tell her, Ralph!”
Adair said thickly, “I’ll go and tell Commander Corbett myself. I’ve known him for some time. It might come better from me.” He looked down at the child. “What shall we do with him?”
Dancy knelt on the grass and gently covered the body with his shirt. Harshly he said, “I’ll take him, sir.”
Adair watched the petty officer carry the small bundle towards the car. Then he said, “I forgot. Dancy was his friend.”
Trewin turned away. “You’d better go with them, Clare.” He felt her tense beneath his arm. “I shall not be long. Just tell me where Mrs. Corbett was going. I’ll fetch her myself.”
She stared at him, her face grave. “Are you sure you want to?”
He nodded. “I must.” He walked with her to the car, past the onlookers and the busy firemen. Then he said, “I’ll see you before you leave.”
She reached through the car window and gripped his arm. “I shall never forget what you did today. What it must have cost you.” She was smiling at him but her eyes were running with tears.
Then the car jerked away and Trewin watched it until it had turned the bend in the road.
He did not want to be the one to face Mrs. Corbett, and deep in his heart he knew that he was only giving himself the task to avoid seeing Corbett when he was told of his son’s death.
He made himself look at the gutted building and tried to remember it as it had once been. All Corbett treasured in life was his son and his ship. And now there was only the ship.
As he walked slowly towards the road he knew that whatever else happened he would not be the one to take that away from Corbett. There was nothing else left.
WHEN TREWIN finally found his way back to the landing stage it was already getting dark. It had taken him longer than he had expected to find the address Clare had given him, and then on his way back to the harbour he had been forced to take cover during a sudden air raid.
As he had sat in the sweltering heat of the crowded shelter he had found himself going over what had happened again and again. Maybe it had been because it was so unexpected that the final scene was still riveted in his mind.
The place where Mrs. Corbett was making her visit was an expensive apartment in a small block of flats. Several people had paused to watch him pass, but he no longer cared what they thought of his stained and dishevelled appearance. He had found the flat on the first floor, and after pressing the bell had waited, almost holding his breath, his eyes fixed on the closed door.
It had seemed like an age before the door had finally been opened. There had been the sound of dance music from a radio and the smell of gin. But all these brief impressions had faded instantly as he had come face to face with Mallory.
The Australian had been wearing a dressing gown and carrying a glass in one hand. For a moment he had stared at Trewin with something like stunned disbelief, then he had shrugged.
“So I just came ashore, Number One! I wasn’t expecting a visit from you or anyone else!” He had made to close the door and it had been then that Trewin had seen Corbett’s wife in the next room reflected in the dressing-table mirror. She had been sitting relaxed and naked on the bed, her head moving slightly in time with the music while she poured herself a drink.
Trewin had heard himself say tonelessly, “I suggest you take Mrs. Corbett to the harbour right now!” He had watched the hostility on Mallory’s dark features. Then he had continued, “Her son has just been killed. Tell her if you like, she may be interested!” Then he had swung on his heel and not looked back. If he had waited any longer he knew he would have hit Mallory.
In the air-raid shelter, as the walls and roof vibrated to the explosions overhead, he had found time to think clearly and restore his self-control.
By the time he reached the landing stage he was outwardly calm, but within he had an empty, dangerous feeling which made him watch his every move, like an onlooker, someone on the outside of himself.
It was only when the motor boat coxswain told him that he noticed the Prawn was afloat and the Porcupine had been moved further along the anchorage to another buoy.
The seaman said, “The Japs flew across and dropped some bombs on the harbour, sir. They hit the slipway, but the old Prawn was just too quick for ’em. She’d been in the water some three hours earlier.”
Trewin did not answer. He did not want his mind to accept the true meaning of the man’s words. If the slipway was wrecked, there was no chance of repairing the Porcupine’s rudders. It was the end.
He climbed the gunboat’s side where Hammond stood by the rail with Tweedie. Hammond said softly, “We’ve been waiting to tell you what a fine thing you did.”
Trewin studied him emptily. “The boy was dead.”
“Yes. But you saved one life. It could have been worse.”
Trewin looked at the bridge. “Is he aboard?”
“In his cabin. He’s been ashore for a while with Adair.” Hammond licked his lips. “Dancy went with him.”
“I see.” Trewin felt his shoulder throbbing in time with his heart. “How is he?”
Hammond shrugged. “Hard to say. He looks like a man in a trance.”
Trewin nodded. “I’ll go up.”
Tweedie said harshly, “Tell ’im about the admiral!”
“What about the admiral?” Trewin knew his voice was hard. “Tell me!”
“He’s going with Prawn.” Hammond spread his hands. “He’s leaving us.”
Trewin looked at the red glow above the city. “Well, that just about makes everything perfect, doesn’t it?”
He climbed the ladder slowly, conscious of the seamen standing by the guardrails. Nobody spoke. No one turned to watch him.
He tapped on the cabin door. It swung inwards and he saw Corbett sitting behind his desk. As if he had not moved from the last time. Trewin said, “I’m back, sir. I tried to carry out your orders. I’m sorry, sir. I think you know that.”
Corbett was staring
at the desk. “Thank you.”
Trewin tried to shut out the pictures of the child staring at the dead nurse and Corbett’s wife naked in the mirror. He said, “I’ve just heard about the admiral, sir. It seems he’s running with the rest.”
Corbett sounded distant. “I’m in charge of the group, Trewin.” He stood up and walked slowly to his bookcase. “I’ve decided to drop the matter of the enquiry. I don’t imagine you’ll act so foolishly again.”
Trewin watched Corbett’s hands moving aimlessly along the leather-bound books. He was not deceived by his remarks. He could see the stiffness in his back, the fixed intensity of those pale, useless eyes. You poor, helpless bastard! Don’t keep fighting it! Just let go, just once!
Corbett said, “Prawn will be sailing after midnight. I want you to take the motor boat and guide her clear of the harbour. I don’t want her to hit any of the wrecks, she’s enough ahead of her as it is.”
“Yes, sir.”
Corbett lifted his gaze and stared at Trewin for the first time. “You look a mess. You’d better go and freshen up. God knows when you’ll get another chance.” As Trewin moved towards the door Corbett said, “Thank you for what you tried to do.”
Trewin paused. “Is there anything I can do now, sir?”
Corbett’s hands bunched into tight fists. “Just go.” He turned away. “Just leave me alone!”
In his cabin Trewin leaned against the bulkhead and closed his eyes. Ching opened the door and peered at him. “You like a shower, Number One, sir?”
Trewin said tightly, “Yes, I would.”
The old Chinese hovered by the door. “Drink, maybe?”
Trewin pushed himself away from the cool steel. “No drink. Later perhaps I’ll need it very badly, but not yet.”
He did not resist as Ching helped him off with his clothes, but as the man moved away to arrange the shower he sank on the edge of the bunk and rested his head on his hands. Around him the ship was so quiet that she seemed to be listening.
Pride and the Anguish Page 22
