An Officer and a Gentleman Wanted: A Romantic Comedy

by Beverley Watts

  1950 The gong rings a 5 minute warning for dinner, giving everyone a chance to ‘ease springs’ before we sit down.

  I’m beginning to think that Rob’s not coming and I breathe a sigh of relief as I follow Sarah out of the Wardroom for a quick trip to the heads….

  …only to run directly into my nemesis striding towards the Wardroom. My heart slams violently in my chest. He looks gorgeous in his Mess Undress and the bastard doesn’t even falter as he sees me.

  He simply nods to both of us and continues past to the bar.

  I want to sit down in the middle of the floor and cry – professional woman of the world be damned.

  I glance towards Sarah as she takes my arm sympathetically and I can feel a huge lump come into my throat as the tears threaten my mascara. Oh God I can’t cry, not now.

  “You ok?” Sarah’s concern is nearly my undoing.

  “Just need the loo.” I manage in a strangled voice.

  Once seated in the toilet cubicle, I rest my head in my hands and force myself to simply breathe deeply, trying to quell the impending flood.

  My mind once again pictures his face as he walked towards me. How could he have looked so cold?

  Like he really didn’t give a damn.

  Do I really know him at all?

  Sarah knocks lightly on the door. I’m tempted to tell her to go on without me, but I’m damned if I’ll let the cheating swine know how much he’s hurt me.

  I take another deep breath and finish off (wouldn’t want the time to be wasted totally – there’s still a few hours at the table to go…)

  “I’m fine.” I tell her as I come out of the toilet. Then, determinedly ignoring her doubtful expression, I reapply my lipstick and sweep out of the heads with my best tried and tested ‘I don’t give a damn’ impression.

  2005 The Wardroom dining room looks stunning. The tables have been lined up together in a U shape with the Commander seated at the centre of the top table. As always the tables are beautifully laid out with white cloths and the best silver. A myriad of candles cast a warming glow over the whole room and create an alternate world of flickering and dancing shadows in the floor to ceiling windows.

  I breathe a sigh of relief as I finally sit down. I know roughly where Rob is sitting but I can’t actually see him once I’m seated at the table unless I lean forward. I’m sitting next to Sam on the one side and a Lt Bond on the other (that’s his name - really. Bet he can’t wait until he gets to Cdr. Mind you, his first name isn’t James, it’s Adam – feel a bit cheated actually…)

  Anyway I’m determined to enjoy myself, and after a couple more glasses of wine, I’m at my sparkling best.

  If my sparkling best is a little brittle, only my mum would be able to tell…

  2230 Even in my slightly inebriated state, I manage to refrain from overindulging in the port as it comes round the table for the third time, although the same can’t be said of my dinner companions! Not sure how long either of them will last in the post dinner shenanigans…

  I’ve only made eye contact with Rob once throughout the evening as I leant forward to listen to someone on the other side of the table. Glancing to the right, I caught Rob’s gaze briefly but he looked away before I could discern his expression.

  I so wish it really had been simply a bit of fun. My head is beginning to spin a little (although it has to be said it’s taking the pressure of my usual bladder inadequacies).

  As soon as the speeches are over, I think I’ll be calling it a night…

  2345 There are 12 leavers all together this term and none of them escaped unscathed. In fact I couldn’t help squirming for one poor chap who had apparently conducted an illicit liaison with another officer (female fortunately at least) and was in the habit of sending risqué emails to her which she very obviously enjoyed replying to.

  As he handed over his post to his replacement, he believed that he’d wiped all the incriminating evidence off his computer’s hard drive.

  Unfortunately not so.

  The emails were read out word for word to the delight of everyone in the room apart from two…

  Friday 27 November

  0230 Am lying in bed and I can’t sleep. The cabin is absolutely freezing and I stupidly didn’t bring my winceyette pyjamas (I’ve slept in these cabins enough times that I should have known better – they’re either boiling hot or bloody arctic).

  Of course that’s not the only reason I’m tossing and turning.

  Although I have to say that the rest of the evening did actually turn out to be a bit of an eye opener…

  Once the speeches were over, we retired to the Wardroom bar and I fully intended to head straight back to my cabin.

  But then I saw Rob leave with his mobile phone plastered to his ear and decided to have another drink instead.

  Not sure whether I made the right decision, but at least what followed took my mind off my problems for a little while…

  After copious amounts of alcohol, officers in the Royal Navy have a proclivity to take part in stunts that might seem to us mere mortals as bizarre and sometimes downright dangerous (in this instant the danger was more about potential frost bite on exposed extremities...)

  I am referring to the unanimous (well nearly –the small female contingent weren’t so keen) decision to take part in a ‘naked ramp race’.

  You may well ask…

  The ramps in question are the raised walkways surrounding the Parade Ground.

  It was decided (really not sure who originally came up with the idea) that all the officers present would take off all their clothes and race around said ramps in their birthday suits.

  It was minus 3 outside...

  There were predictably no female participants.

  So there we were, standing on the porch outside the Wardroom watching 20 grown men run around in the pitch black freezing cold with nothing on but a pair of socks!

  Of course Sarah and I made sure we had front row seats – after all, it’s not often one gets to see the Commander of the College in all his glory.

  I can only reiterate, it really was a very cold night…

  0815 Finally gave up trying to sleep at 07.30 (I succumbed to wearing my coat in bed at about 4ish) and decided to get an early start in the office.

  Cue sitting in front of my computer, looking at a blank screen.

  I know this has got to stop. I’m not some little wimp of a female (well ok, I am fairly little) who needs a man to make her happy. I sit up straighter (PWOW style) and resolve that I am no longer going to keep using alcohol as a crutch…

  However, before taking such forthright action, I think I should indulge in one last evening of debauchery this weekend and paint the town red (well pink maybe – we are talking about Torquay).

  And what’s more, I’m not going to give the 2 timing moron one more thought.

  Won’t do it tonight though – think I’d better get over this hangover first.

  Sunday 29 November

  1035 Am still in bed. I’m never drinking again (well, definitely not in Torquay anyway).

  Jackie accompanied me on said rampage of debauchery and Frankie put me to bed when I finally got home, (think I remember her muttering something about this being the wrong way round…)

  Also think Nelson actually spent the whole night in my bed with me.

  I turn over on to my side and we stare at each other eye to eye…

  At least I do actually get to wake up next to the man in my life. And you know what, I’d much rather wake up next to Nelson than some stranger (to be fair, my definition of debauchery may be relatively tame compared to some).

  Mind you, I suppose there is the advantage that most men would actually be able take themselves off for a wee without me needing to drag myself out of bed to open the door for them (that’s the theory…)

  In truth, last night was fun (what I can remember of it anyway). And I really did need to get away from the College (and uniformed men in general) for a while.


  Sort of getting back to basics (very easy to do in Torquay).

  As far as I remember, my embarrassment was confined to taking part in a karaoke duet singing the theme tune from Dirty Dancing. Not really sure if my singing partner (a carpet fitter from Glasgow – call me Rory - at least that’s what I think he said – see what I mean about basics?) tried to throw me over his head a la Patrick Swayze but I really wasn’t that drunk – although thinking about it, my bottom does feel a bit tender this morning…

  Then Jackie and I capped it off with a duet of ‘My Way’.

  We didn’t quite empty the pub (and anyway it was pretty near to closing time).

  Think I’ll spend the rest of the day in bed…

  Week 13

  Monday 30 November

  1030 The end of term is finally looming and I’ve got a crazily busy week ahead.

  I normally love this part of the term. Everyone is starting to get into a festive mood. The cadets are getting ready to finish their training which culminates in their Passing Out Parade on Thursday of Week 14 (bloody hell, next week). That’s followed by the Christmas Ball on the Friday and leave after that (well that is, the holidays start for everyone in uniform – us civvies are here until Christmas Eve).

  This year of course, I’ve got lots of additional responsibilities (not to mention a broken heart – just in case you’ve forgotten…)

  And then there are the Squadron Cocktail Parties on Wednesday evening. They’re a ‘Black Box’ event - meaning that every Wardroom member has to attend on pain of death! (Or at the very least a public dressing down by the Commander – mind you, it has to be said he doesn’t seem quite so intimidating after Dine Leavers…)

  Yet another opportunity to come face to face with Rob.

  Oh joy.

  But I am beginning to feel better and so I’ve decided not to stop on board overnight. I’ve drunk enough to sink a battleship over the last couple of weeks and, as I’ve already decided, I’m not going to become a sad middle aged woman who takes refuge in a bottle of wine every night to alleviate her loneliness. (Anyway, I drink wine with my mum – so I’m not technically alone…)

  It will also give me an excuse to leave fairly early – the constant late nights are beginning to catch up and I’ve not even started my Christmas shopping (even thinking about it makes me hyperventilate). (Still, at least it’s Jackie’s turn to cook Christmas dinner this year).

  Think Nelson needs some sugar!

  1530 I feel completely drained. I’ve just come out of the College Assessment Group (known as the CAG strangely enough…) This is where the fate of the soon to Pass Out cadets is finally decided. My job is to report the status of the International cadets in English Language Training. It’s all very intimidating and I really don’t enjoy it (definitely not one of the perks of being a PWOW).

  And this time Rob was there in his capacity as VSO. (How could I have forgotten?)

  So, finally, absolutely no way to avoid speaking with him…

  Not sure I handled myself particularly well. He just seemed so intimidating. Obviously he took great pains not to show this side of himself when trying to get into my pants. (Ok, a little voice is telling me I’m being slightly unfair, not to mention bitchy. He’s a professional and just because I’m struggling to handle the whole thing…)

  And to be honest, it doesn’t make me want him any the less – unfortunately! His authoritative, clipped manner gave an aura of leadership that I hadn’t seen in Rob before.

  Another side to him that I so wish I had a future to explore.

  Maybe I’ll start cutting down on the wine tomorrow night…

  Tuesday 1 December

  1630 Just come out of a final staff meeting before the end of term assessments start tomorrow.

  This is it. This is what the whole term has been about…

  Perhaps I will just have one glass tonight.

  Wednesday 2 December

  1105 Just come back from Stand Easy. They’re putting up giant Christmas trees in the Wardroom, Senior Gunroom and the Quarterdeck in preparation for the cocktail parties tonight. It all seems too early really, but that could just be because I don’t feel in a particularly festive mood.

  The Language school is quiet as all the students are doing their writing tests elsewhere in the College.

  I wander into one of the classrooms to stare out of the window. The last time I did this was at the start of the term.

  The sun was shining over the River Dart and I was so happy and excited.

  What a difference a few short weeks can make. There’s no sun to be seen now; the clouds seem scarcely higher than the College clock tower and are iron grey with impending rain. The Parade Ground below is filled with cadets shivering with cold as they rehearse for the Passing Out Parade, now only a week away.

  Turning away, I head back into my office where Nelson is sprawled out in customary abandonment on his chair.

  His loud snores pierce both the silence and my gloom.

  In fact I suddenly find that I’m actually looking forward to this evening. Yet another training evolution in the RN school of etiquette; this is the opportunity for those cadets passing out to show off their newly developed conversational skills to their friends and families. St Vincent squadron will be hosting on the Quarterdeck and Cunningham squadron in the Senior Gun Room.

  Think I’ll probably make an effort to spend most of my time in the SGR…

  1845 As I’m not stopping overnight, I intend to get changed in my office, but first of all, I take Nelson out for a quick jaunt. Most of the teachers have stayed behind to attend and there’s a bustling festive atmosphere permeating the school as I get back.

  I hurriedly change into a fitted black velvet square necked dress. The neck is low, but not too much so and the hem sits just shy of the floor, making it perfect for this sort of occasion. Then I quickly reapply my make-up, forsaking my trademark red lipstick for a more restrained and less formal pale pink. Black satin court shoes complete the outfit and, after a quick fluff of my hair, I’m ready to roll.

  After giving Nelson his dinner, I take a moment and stand looking at myself in the full length mirror that graces my office wall.

  Then I smile a little ruefully. I look really good.

  Except for the whole pain bit, I think heartbreak suits me!

  2100 I have so far avoided the Quarterdeck and Sarah has loyally stayed with me but I know it’s only fair to give her the opportunity to ‘do’ St Vincent squadron (in the very broadest sense of course). It’s a big room and I shouldn’t have any difficulty avoiding Rob – as the Senior Squadron Officer he’ll have his hands full anyway.

  I follow her hesitantly down The Corridor and onto the Quarterdeck where we’re instantly surrounded by cadets offering to fetch us another drink. (It has to be said, they do take their hosting role very seriously). I opt for an orange juice having already consumed my alcohol allowance for this evening (beginning to wish I’d elected to stay on board…) Still, I can see that Rob is tied up on the other side of the room and even without the assistance of some liquid courage, I finally allow myself to relax.

  Staring down into my drink, I listen and simply let the conversation flow over and around me.

  Which turns out to be a monumental mistake, as I suddenly hear his voice. And it’s not from the other side of the room…

  Startled, I look up, straight into blue eyes that are only feet away. My heart thuds painfully and all calmness dissipates instantly.

  “Hello Sir, can we get you another drink?” The cadets fall over themselves to accommodate their VSO who is now standing directly in front of me. I realise with panic that Sarah has drifted away slightly and is now laughing with group of officers and too far-off for me to garner any support from that direction.

  How the hell did he get from there to here so bloody quickly? Helplessly I stand and stare at him. I simply don’t know what to say (is that a first?)

  Sensing the subtle tension, the cadets begin dri
fting away with various excuses and I resist the urge to grab hold of the one next to me and beg him to stay…

  All too soon we’re left alone and the silence starts to become painful. He is still staring at me, eyes intent and unreadable.

  In the end, as always, I break first and coughing slightly I ask him whether he’s enjoying the evening. I hate the stilted sound of my voice and I can’t help but remember lying with him warm and naked in the cabin on Compass Rose.

  I close my eyes and just want to cry…

  His answer when it comes is vague and non-committal, revealing nothing of his feelings.

  “How about you. Are you having a good time?” I can tell he doesn’t want to talk to me; his question is polite, nothing more.

  I glance towards Sarah desperately hoping that she’ll come over and rescue me but her back is turned towards me and she has no idea I’m in trouble.

  Suddenly I snap and determine to put an end to this farce.

  “I’m having a lovely evening thank you Rob.” I offer with false cheerfulness. “Are you looking forward to the holidays? Spending Christmas with Tracy?”

  I could bite out my tongue. I didn’t mean to say her name, really I didn’t.

  He stares back at me and, for a second I think he’s not going to answer.

  “I’m looking forward to seeing my son Jack over Christmas. I have no idea what Tracy’s doing; I haven’t seen her since the Sunday before last. If you’ll excuse me please.”

  Then he walks away, just like that.

  And for the second time in as many minutes I’m completely speechless…

  2230 I’m sitting in the car waiting for the last ferry to Paignton. The darkness is pretty frigid without the engine on but I hardly notice as my mind replays his words to me over and over again.

  He hasn’t seen her since that day.

  I frantically think back to the text Rob sent me the day after.

  He asked me to give him some time to sort himself out.

  He didn’t say he was still with his bimbo girlfriend. In fact he said he thought it was finished.

  He asked me to give him time…