An Officer and a Gentleman Wanted: A Romantic Comedy

by Beverley Watts

  An Officer and a Gentleman Wanted

  By

  Beverley Watts

  Copyright Notice

  Copyright © 2013 by Beverley Watts. All rights reserved worldwide.

  No part of this publication may be replicated, redistributed, or given away in any form without the prior written consent of the author.

  Cover Design Karen Ronan www.coversbykaren.com

  Cover Art Pinup girl source: http://revallsay.deviantart.com/art/20-Pin-Up-Girls-PNGs-155842563

  Contents

  Author’s Note

  Chapter One: An Officer and a Gentleman Anyone Please?

  Week 1

  Chapter Two: Undercover Royal

  Week 2

  Chapter Three: It’s A Dog’s Life

  Week 3

  Chapter Four: Champagne and Sheep Dips

  Week 4

  Chapter Five: The Prince and I

  Week 6

  Chapter Seven: Nelson’s Victory

  Week 7

  Chapter Eight: Sheiks and Shipwrecks

  Week 8

  Week 9

  Chapter Nine: All At Sea

  Week 10

  Week 11

  Week 12

  Week 13

  Week 14

  Epilogue

  Claiming Victory

  This book is dedicated to all the wonderful International Officer Cadets who made my time at Dartmouth so memorable...

  Author’s Note

  Britannia Royal Naval College (or BRNC as it’s known in naval circles) is the British Royal Navy’s officer training establishment. It’s a magnificently imposing Edwardian building built high on a hill overlooking the small yachting haven of Dartmouth in the south west of England. The location was chosen for the safe sheltered harbour provided by the River Dart (and possibly for the difficulty that cadets would have getting to the bright lights of... well anywhere).

  It is an accepted fact that the Royal Navy’s officer training standards are among the best in the world and consequently a number of foreign navies who don’t have their own training establishments send their young officers to be trained by the RN.

  Many of the International officer cadets who come through Dartmouth are from the Middle East and require English Language Training to enable them to undertake the Royal Navy’s Officer Training Course which is obviously delivered in English.

  During my time at the College, I worked for a private training company whose job was to provide English

  Language Training to the International Cadets thus enabling them to complete their officer training alongside the British Cadets.

  I can tell you hand on heart that in 8 years there was never a dull moment...

  Lastly, please note that this book is a purely fictional romantic comedy (very) loosely based on my wonderful experiences while I was at BRNC…

  I hope that you enjoy reading the book as much as I enjoyed writing it.

  Chapter One: An Officer and a Gentleman Anyone Please?

  Week 1

  Monday 7 September

  New term. New Intake. New OFFICERS…

  I wonder if he’s arrived yet. Maria, my clairvoyant told me in no uncertain terms that I was finally going to meet Mr Right this year.

  We’re going to be friends first. (No shagging on the first date…)

  He’s going to stimulate me mentally. (Does that mean no shagging at all?)

  Bugger – she never said how long we have to be friends for first…

  My internal ramblings are cut short by the car ferry’s arrival in Dartmouth – probably a blessing really. I don’t want to be reminded of exactly how long it’s been since my last carnal adventure – wasn’t really an adventure at all actually; there’s a lot of truth in the saying that ‘officers have more mouth than trousers’.

  Still, I promised myself when I started working at Britannia Royal Naval College – the Royal Navy’s premier training establishment – that I would eventually become that most envied of creatures – an officer’s wife.

  I might be divorced and in my mid 40s, but it doesn’t mean I’ve given up on romance – I’ve seen Officer and a Gentleman…

  0800 There is always a first day back queue at the College gate. Bloody hell, do the guards want to know what EVERYONE did during their leave period? Some of us (namely civvies) don’t actually get leave periods, we’re permanent fixtures – never leaving the site except to go home and do the washing.

  Damn, I’m going to be late – Oh I forgot, I’ve been promoted now so it doesn’t matter if I’m late.

  ‘Head of English Language Training’ has a great ring to it – It’s even written on my badge and my security pass – how cool is that?

  MS BEVERLEY WILKINS

  HEAD OF ENGLISH LANGUAGE TRAINING

  This is the beginning of my meteoric rise to the very highest echelons of the company; I am certain of it – my time has come…

  0810 I finally get through the gate in to the College grounds after waving my ID at the guard and drive slowly up the winding road with the beautiful red brick building of the Naval College towering above me on the left and the breathtaking view of the River Dart below me on the other. I park the car in my new ‘Head of English Language’ parking space which is great because it’s not 3 miles from the College entrance like the last one (murder on the feet in high heels). Still, I’ll probably miss that little gambol first thing in the morning being dragged along by my dog Nelson (after the Admiral of course, not the politician) desperate for his first wee…

  Actually, delete that – no I won’t miss it at all.

  I haven’t brought Nelson in today – thought I’d try for a bit of authority and respect from the teachers before they completely ignore me and focus on their favourite Irish terrier.

  Ok, I walk into the main College building through the back entrance and I’m standing at the beginning of the longest and most lethal corridor in existence.

  ‘The Corridor’ has brought the very greatest to their knees – usually in the most humiliating circumstances with everybody and his dog watching. I think I might have the record for the only person working at the College who has not actually gone arse over tit on the polished floor.

  Why don’t they carpet the floor if it’s so dangerous? Because it’s a listed building…

  What are a few broken arms and legs when compared to British history?

  But that’s ok because I know how to do it (and in heels). It’s not the height of your shoes (believe me I’ve seen the best of them go down in flatties…)

  It’s the soles on your shoes.

  And the Royal Navy in all its wisdom actually makes its officers wear leather soles – quite funny really; it certainly makes them a little less pompous…

  So here I am, just outside the College Chapel looking right down at least 100yards of hallowed corridor culminating at the Senior Gunroom Mess and I’m wearing new shoes.

  Always makes me sweat a bit.

  Experience tells me it pays to take it slowly; first of all slide left foot backwards and forwards in a tentative motion to gauge the ‘grip’ factor. Then, on to the right foot – backwards, forwards… Then cautiously take the first step and the second….

  0820 I finally arrive at the English Language School halfway down The Corridor and up 2 flights of stairs. (Actually above the Commodore’s office – not that I’m name dropping or anything.)

  It’s taken me nearly 10 minutes – there is a reason why I hold the College record despite wearing 3½ heels. Mind you, I’ll get faster once I’ve worn the shoes in a bit.

  I can’t believe it – I now ha
ve my own office. I might as well be working for the Ministry Of Defence. All I need now is a sofa and a coffee table…

  I wander along the Language School corridor and stick my head in each of the classrooms feeling very territorial.

  I’ve got 10 minutes before the teachers start arriving. Just time for a quick coffee and a ginger nut.

  1030 It feels like I’ve done a day’s work – I’m already longing for the time when all I had to do was teach.

  And the International Cadets aren’t even due to arrive for another 2 days…

  I also chaired my first staff meeting this morning.

  Top on the agenda? Where was Nelson? Was he ill? Should we send him a get well bone?

  I’m not always sure it’s a good thing the College allows dogs to come to work.

  It took me a while, but I finally managed to drag the conversation back to the matter at hand; namely how many International Young Officer Cadets we can expect for English Language Training this term…

  8 Officer Cadets from the Kuwait Navy: Quite intelligent, lots of money, very friendly, reasonably motivated.

  15 Officer Cadets from the Kuwait Coastguard: Not quite as intelligent, lots of money, very friendly, completely lazy.

  10 Officer Cadets from the Qatar Coastguard: Ditto – with lots of rich relatives in London.

  1 Officer Cadet from another Navy who shall not be named as he’s a member of the country’s royal family but we’re not supposed to know…

  All we have to do is make them ready and capable of completing the Royal Navy’s Young Officer Course alongside the British Young Officers starting in January.

  Just under 14 weeks.

  No pressure…

  I call a quick end to the meeting determined to get down to the Wardroom for Stand Easy. (I know, made me snigger when I first heard it too – it’s amazing how quick you get used to these quaint naval terms though.)

  That gives me half an hour to find out the latest gossip (dits in navy speak); check out the new officers just arrived and get reacquainted with those back from leave.

  I take a slow stroll down The Corridor towards the Wardroom. Although this is actually the Officers’ Mess, we’re allowed in because we’re classed as ‘lecturers’ – even though we’re only civvies and actually work for a private company. This fact causes untold consternation and distress to older and more distinguished members of the Mess – lowers the tone don’t you know. I happen to think that a lot of the officers manage to do that all on their own – without any help from the civilians in the College – that’s why it’s such fun to work here.

  I make a quick stop at the heads (toilets to us mere mortals not in uniform; mixed of course – this is the Royal Navy) and on in to the Wardroom.

  1100 Time to go back to work. I didn’t get to see all the newbie officers, but a bit disappointing so far.

  Met the College’s new Training Executive Officer Sam (thought the title was Training Execution Officer when I first started working here – remember thinking at the time that it was a bit extreme…) He’s quite cute in a cheeky kind of way – maybe a bit young for me. (He actually looked about 20.) Still, apparently St Vincent Squadron has a new Senior Squadron Officer arriving this morning which sounds promising.

  And of course the College has two squadrons, I haven’t met Cunningham Squadron’s senior officer yet so you never know… (Personally I love my optimism although it could possibly be misconstrued on odd occasions as reality denial.)

  Ok – Head of English Language Training cap on for the next hour and a half followed by lunch and then the Commodore’s address (it never feels like the term’s really started until after the Commodore’s waxed lyrically about his plans for the coming term); and lastly, a meeting with Commander Naval Training and Education to discuss the upcoming International Cadets arriving this term.

  Never let it be said that I don’t mix with the crème de la crème.

  1330 (24 hour clock – this is a military establishment.) I’ve just got time to visit the bathroom before heading up to the concert hall for the Commodore’s address.

  Lunch was very interesting – I ended up sitting next to said new St Vincent Squadron Officer – could it be a sign?

  He had a really nice face – hair was pretty much completely grey (but at least he had some) so he must be fairly near my age.

  Will reserve judgement for later…

  1700 Just come out of a looong meeting with Commander Naval Training and Education.

  Too knackered to pass further comment.

  1710 Sitting in the ferry queue waiting to get across the River Dart and home to Paignton.

  1720 Still sitting in the ferry queue.

  1730 Still sitting in the ferry queue. (Believe me, road rage has nothing on ferry rage – thinking of starting a therapy group for those forced to confront queue jumpers…)

  1805 Home finally. It’s lovely living by the seaside but sometimes it takes so long to do the 7 miles from Dartmouth to Paignton that I think I’d be better to live on board alongside the cadets (another cute Naval colloquialism referring to the fact that the College is built like a ship.)

  1810 Ah the relief, just kicked off my shoes and sitting down with the first glass of wine. I can tell that Nelson’s glad to see me because he’s enthusiastically licking my feet – quite nice actually…

  Think I need to get out more.

  Tuesday 8 September

  1020 I lift my head from answering the mountains of emails that being the boss seems to entail and decide I can now legitimately and with good conscience take a break.

  But before I head down to the Wardroom, I check out the important bits – the new St Vincent (forgotten his name) Senior Squadron Officer might be there.

  I stand in front of the full length mirror in my office and stare critically at my reflection.

  5 feet nothing and 120 pounds; maybe a little overweight (although I prefer the term curvy) – definitely not Catherine Zeta Jones but not quite Bridget Jones either. The suit jacket’s a bit tight but I don’t do it up so that’s ok. The 3½ heels make me look a bit taller.

  Shoulder length blonde hair (ok so it’s highlighted). My face is actually quite attractive (although it definitely looks better without my reading glasses on –not so many wrinkles – sorry, laughter lines). Brown eyes, generous lips – especially when vamped up with my favourite red lipstick which always makes me feel in control…

  And the suit gives me that business edge – you know what? I really do look the part.

  Then I glance over at Nelson who in time honoured tradition of his first day back is snoring on the easy chair in the corner of the office, flat on his back, legs in the air showing off all his glory in complete abandon. (He can just about fit in the chair if he squidges his head round to the side – he looks like Tramp from the Disney film but with ginger fur.)

  Not really the image a go-getting business woman wants the world to see, but at the end of the day I don’t care – I think he’s irresistible (most of the time).

  En route I meet up with Sarah – my partner in crime for all College activities taking place after 6pm (and some before…)

  We walk together making sure we keep to the middle of The Corridor (more traffic, so not as polished) and discuss the new arrivals this term.

  I ask her if she’s been introduced to the new St Vincent Senior Squadron Officer and when she nods her head, I ask the dreaded question

  “Is he married?”

  Now this is a small point that doesn’t seem to register with every naval officer. The ‘out of sight, out of mind’ ethos is taken to a whole new level in the Royal Navy.

  Unfortunately Sarah isn’t able to shed any light on the situation, but promises to investigate further and, as she runs the College Planning Department, she might be in a better position to ask without making herself look a complete tit.

  Sadly the new VSO wasn’t at Stand Easy – I can’t keep saying ‘The St Vincent Senior Squadron Officer’; it
’s such a mouthful and the Royal Navy does love its TLAs (Three Letter Abbreviations…)

  Plus I can’t actually remember his name, and now I’m beginning to forget what he looks like.

  Is that a sign?

  Oh well, maybe he’ll be there at lunch time.

  1530 I haven’t managed get any lunch, absolutely snowed under getting ready for the Internationals arriving tomorrow.

  I haven’t even had time to take Nelson out for a wee – he’s looking at me very reproachfully with his legs in plaits.

  Ignoring his plaintive looks, (he’s got the bladder of a rhinoceros) I grab a coffee (think it must be my 15th today – beginning to feel a bit twitchy) and head into the International Liaison Office (ILO) which is next to the language school.

  To most International Officer Cadets, this is the most important room in the College. The staff here deal with everything from arranging travel visas to explaining why someone’s 2nd cousin over from Abu Dhabi can’t bunk down on his cabin floor for a couple of weeks…

  The International Liaison Officer (ILO – why have 2 different TLAs when you can use the same one twice) John is on the phone, so I wait, patiently nursing my caffeine fix.

  He’s speaking with Rashid, the Military Attaché’s personal assistant at the Qatar Embassy in London.

  Turns out that only half the Qatari Coastguard will be arriving tomorrow – the rest haven’t had chance to visit Harrods yet before venturing down to the wilds of Dartmouth.

  “This is a military establishment.” John’s voice is getting louder – always a bad sign. “They can’t just turn up when they damn well please.”

  Can’t quite hear Rashid’s response but John turning a darker shade of purple can’t be a good sign.

  “So how many have we got?” I butt in while John’s still spluttering (he does tend to waffle a bit so I always take advantage of any gaps in the conversation – spluttering counts as a gap.)

  “Four arriving tomorrow, the rest on Thursday.”

  “No problem, we’ll just postpone the language tests until Friday.”