Nick of Time

by Ted Bell

  Nick couldn’t credit his ears! It was the same rich and powerful voice Nick had heard pouring forth over the BBC as his family huddled around the big radio in the lighthouse kitchen! Then he saw the famous blue polka-dot bowtie and he knew without question.

  The man was Winston Churchill.

  After a brief embrace, Lord Hawke shook his famous relative’s hand vigorously and clapped him on the back. “Well, Uncle! How very good of you to come! Delighted, I must say! And you as well, Admiral Pendleton!” Hawke exclaimed. “You both know Commander Hobbes, of course!”

  “I certainly do!” Churchill said through his cigar, and took Hobbes’s hand firmly in his own and looked him hard in the eye. “Good show, Commander Hobbes, really! I can hardly describe the mood in the War Office over your magnificent achievement. It is positive euphoria! I can rant and rave in Parliament until I’m blue in the face about the Nazi war build-up, but your capture of an actual sub at this critical moment is worth a thousand speeches. Your country owes you an enormous debt of gratitude, sir. The chance for our lads to examine this advanced vessel in minute detail will give us an incalculable advantage in the early stages of the war. The First Sea Lord himself was on his way down, but I stole the poor chap’s seat, I wanted so much to see the bloody thing for myself.”

  “Capital, isn’t it, Uncle?” Hawke exclaimed. “I went—that is to say, I was away on a personal matter for a day or two and I returned only to find that Hobbes here has singlehandedly captured a Nazi U-boat! Quite extraordinary, what?”

  “It’s a great honor to welcome you to Hawke Castle, sir,” Hobbes replied to Churchill solemnly, his head bowed modestly. “But my efforts were hardly singlehanded. May I introduce some young friends who’ll be joining us for dinner, after you’ve completed your inspection of the submarine. Especially a young lady who was most instrumental in the successful outcome of this small U-boat adventure.”

  “Delighted,” said Churchill, smiling in the blustery twilight.

  “First, Mr. Archibald Steele, known to his many friends as Gunner.”

  “Not so young, but deeply honored to meet you, sir!” Gunner said, shaking Churchill’s hand. It was not lost on Gunner that in the space of forty-eight hours he’d shaken the hand of one of Nelson’s captains and now that of England’s greatest statesman.

  Hobbes smiled and next opened his mackintosh to reveal the children hiding there. Alexander,Annabel, and Kate smiled up at the great man. “May I first present Annabel and Alexander Hawke, sir?”

  “I’m delighted, needless to say, that somehow you’ve solved this terrible mystery of your missing children, my dear nephew!” Churchill said to Hawke and then he bent and embraced the two shy children. “It seems nothing short of a miracle, I must say. However did you manage it, Dickie?”

  “A story for another time, Uncle Winston, if I may.”

  “And this very shy young woman, if I can coax her out of hiding, is Miss Katherine McIver!” Hobbes said, pulling the mack away from Katie. “Who, along with her brother Nicholas here, first discovered the unfortunate U-boat that now lies in our lagoon! Katie here was an enormous help to me in enticing the German captain to sail his submarine into Hawke Lagoon. I simply could not have managed it without her, sir.”

  “Indeed, Commander?” Churchill said, taking Kate’s hand and then Nick’s. “Marvelous! Your name is McIver, is it? I wonder if perhaps these two delightful children are not related to my copilot of this afternoon?”

  “Copilot, Uncle Winston?” Hawke asked.

  “Yes, yes, copilot!” Churchill replied. “Splendid chap, RAF retired who lives here on the island. One of our best in the first war. Been my houseguest down at Chartwell these last few days, discussing the future of British lighthouses like the Greybeard Light. I mentioned that I was buzzing down here this afternoon and he asked if he could hitch a ride. I said, ‘Only if you’ll agree to sit up front and take the stick now and then!’ Here he comes now, I believe you and Hobbes know him quite well, Dickie.”

  Nick saw a tall, thin man with a cane make his way slowly across the soggy grass. Tears filled the boy’s eyes as he ran out to greet him.

  “Father!” Nick cried. “Oh, Father, you’re home! Mr. Churchill said you helped to fly the plane across the Channel! It was a wonderful landing!” Angus threw down his walking stick and bent to embrace his son.

  “Oh, no, I’m afraid that landing was Mr. Churchill himself,” Angus said, looking happily in his son’s face. “But I got him lined up for the proper approach, I did. Not bad for an old one-legger, eh, Nick? Churchill himself said it, ‘Once a Black Ace, always a Black Ace!’ He wants me to consider starting a flying school for young boys, right here on Grey-beard. But, son, how are you? How’s Katie?”

  “Father, so much has happened, I hardly know where to start! First we met your friend Mr. Thor who turns out to really be Commander Hobbes who lives here at the castle and works for Lord Hawke and then—and then—” He stopped himself, realizing most of his story couldn’t be told. “But, where is Mother? Surely she came with you?”

  “No, she didn’t, son. She’s staying on in London for a week to help your uncle close up his house in Cadogan Square. He’s resigned from the cabinet, you see. Over the war issue. He thinks your cousins are no longer safe in London. He told the Prime Minister so, and walked right out the door at Number Ten! Your mother is helping him pack up so that they might all move here, though heaven only knows where we’ll put them all! Come along now, let’s not keep everyone waiting!”

  Nick stooped, picking up his father’s walking stick, and they started back to where everyone had gathered. “Father, I can’t wait to tell you about—” He stopped himself. He was of course desperate to tell his father about the grand adventure he and Gunner and Lord Hawke had just returned from. But he knew how important the oath of secrecy they’d all sworn was to Lord Hawke, and how dangerous it would be to break it. Time travel and his wondrous machine must remain his secret forever. Even from his dear father. “About how glad I am you’re home,” he said, “and how Katie captured a U-boat!” He then began to laugh because, as absurd as it sounded, it was literally true! She had!

  “Oh, I’ve heard all about Kate’s U-boat exploits from Mr. Churchill, Nick, quite the most amazing story,” Angus said, laughing. “He invited me to stay with him at Chartwell to find a way to keep his network of lighthouse keepers gainfully employed. Not only as part of our strategic island defenses, but—”

  Nick grabbed his father’s arm and stopped him. “Does he agree? We don’t have to leave the Greybeard Light then, Father?” Nick asked, clutching at his father’s sleeve. Angus looked down, smiling.

  “Let’s just say the minister who wrote me that terrible letter now has a new job stacking sandbags in front of Mr. Churchill’s new War Office in St. James’s Park!” Angus said, and put his arm around his son. “Churchill understands this war, son. He won’t let anything stand in his way. I imagine the Greybeard Light will be home to the McIvers for another two or three hundred years!”

  Angus McIver’s son looked up at him with a huge grin, and hugged him tightly for a moment. His daughter Kate saw him and shrieked his name, and then she, too, ran up and leapt into his waiting arms. He planted his one good leg firmly in the wet grass and lifted his beautiful daughter into the air high above his head.

  “Daddy, you’re home!” she cried happily. “I missed you, Daddy!”

  Angus McIver was home. Away to the north, on the farthest tip of Greybeard Island, past the curls of his daughter’s pretty red hair blowing in his eyes, he could see the great arc of his old family light, sweeping the tumultuous black skies.

  There were now more terrible storms coming, he knew, far more violent than the gales that had swept in from the east a generation ago. But looking into his children’s uplifted faces, he knew that the Greybeard Light and the McIver family were ready, ready as they had so surely been for generations, ready now to do their sacred duty for England.

&
nbsp; Who knows, he chuckled to himself, looking back at the twinkling wing lights on the silver bomber, they may even need to dust off a few old pilots before this new war was over!

  CHAPTER XXXVIII

  Churchill After Dinner

  · 8 June 1939 ·

  AT HAWKE CASTLE

  Winston Churchill regarded the elegantly carved silver spoon in his hand and fingered the sculpted hawk’s head that formed the handle. Then, he tapped it three times against the thin crystal water goblet. He noted, approvingly, that it produced a lovely tinkling chime, one of his favorite sounds on earth.

  “My dear friends and countrymen,” he said, folding his heavy linen napkin, pushing his chair back, and getting to his feet. “If I may beg, borrow, or steal your attention for just a moment.” He waited for everyone to quiet and used the moment to relight the mammoth Havana cigar which was, for him, always the best part of a meal.

  Churchill looked up and down the great table at all the cheery faces aglow in the candlelight of the massive chandeliers, which hung the length of Hawke Castle’s dining hall, all blazing merrily overhead. There was an air of festivity, almost a holiday air, in the castle that evening, as if there should be Christmas greenery and gold ribbons hanging from each chandelier. He waited for the four children, seated at the far end of the table, to stop giggling, and for the other lovely small dinner noises of silver and china and crystal to cease. Only when every face was hushed and turned toward him did the great man speak.

  “Thank you for indulging an old man’s unfailing compulsion to get on his feet and say a few words after such a splendid repast, and thank you, nephew, for your marvelous hospitality,” he began in the deep, familiar voice, a pungent wreath of cigar smoke forming a thundercloud above his head. “You’re most kind to include me. Tonight, because of the actions of a few people seated at this very table, I was able to place a call to Number Ten Downing Street an hour ago and make the following report to the Prime Minister …”

  He paused here, as he always did, knowing he had hooked his audience, and took another sip of Lord Hawke’s delicious Madeira wine, warming to his listeners and his subject.

  “Tonight, at precisely nineteen hundred hours, an inspection team of His Majesty’s Naval officers, accompanied by myself, was able to board a captured German submarine in the Hawke Lagoon on Greybeard Island. We immediately determined that the U-boat was of the top-secret Alpha-Class, which has recently been a source of grave concern to His Majesty’s Naval War Office. Confirming the rumors and our own worst fears, our inspection proved that the Nazis, in direct violation of the Versailles Treaty, have indeed perfected a highly sophisticated new submarine propulsion system they call—I’m sorry—what do they call it, Commander Hobbes?”

  “I believe they call it Hydroschiffsschraube, sir,” Hobbes replied. “Waterpropeller.”

  “A new propulsion system called Waterpropeller,” Churchill continued, “which uses supercooled and superheated water combined with turbine drives to give the new Nazi submarine a top speed nearly twice anything our boys can deliver. This advanced sub, U-33, was first discovered off the coast of Greybeard Island by Nicholas and Kate McIver, accompanied by Mr. Archibald Steele, while sailing a routine surveillance mission in service of their country. Not content to merely observe the enemy vessel, however, young Mr. McIver was able to get a line on her periscope while the vessel was under way, and subsequently measure her approximate submerged running speed! He then—”

  “Hear, hear!” Hobbes interrupted. “Bravo!”

  Churchill paused and waited for Hobbes’s loud applause to fade.

  “Continuing on to Hawke Lagoon, and overcoming the castle’s security systems at grave personal peril, young McIver had the wisdom and foresight to inform Lord Richard Hawke and Commander Hobbes of His Majesty’s Royal Navy of the encounter. Subsequently, Commander Hobbes and Miss McIver, a child of barely seven, were en route to supply me with the specifics of this encounter when they were stopped and detained by this very sub. Boarding the U-boat at German insistence, they were then, through a brilliantly conceived deception, able to convince the U-boat’s commanding officers to enter Hawke Lagoon. There, she now lies captive.”

  Once again, Churchill was interrupted by boisterous applause, this time from Admiral Pendleton, the naval attaché, and his boarding party. Hobbes tried to quiet them but the sweetness of the victory and also Lord Hawke’s wine were overpowering. Only a stern glance from Churchill himself could silence the rowdy naval contingent.

  “As if the capture and subsequent technical inspection of our enemy’s most advanced submarine were not stunning enough, during the course of tonight’s inspection of U-33, our officers made an even more dramatic discovery—”

  There was a sharp intake of breath and a complete hushed silence fell over the table.

  “During the inspection, Admiral Pendleton, discerning the smell of smoke in the immediate vicinity of the captain’s cabin, smashed the door’s lock forthwith and entered. The U-boat captain, Wolfgang von Krieg, was attempting to burn, in a state of panic, his ship’s orders and recent radio transmissions from Berlin. Admiral Pendleton, after subduing the captain, was able to save most of this material. Upon further inspection, the documents saved proved to be of the most supreme importance to His Majesty, the War Office, the Prime Minister, and, indeed, all people of our island nation.”

  Churchill stopped here and leaned forward over the table, cigar clenched in his teeth, and scanned the faces watching him so intently. He wanted to ensure there would be no mistaking the seriousness of what he was about to say.

  “As I informed the Prime Minister, the captured documents found aboard U-33 this evening prove beyond all shadow of a doubt Germany’s intention to launch an invasion of England. They are, even now, at this very hour, preparing to mount an invasion of these Channel Islands—including this small island where tonight we gather beneath Lord Hawke’s roof.”

  Instantly, a hubbub erupted up and down the table as the enormity of Churchill’s words took root. The Germans were coming. Coming here! And soon. Churchill blew a huge cloud of smoke up toward the chandelier and resumed his oratory.

  “According to these captured documents, these four small islands, under the dominion of the English crown for many centuries, would form the forward base from which Mr. Hitler intends to launch an attack on the English mainland. Here they intend to build submarine bases, runways, and hospitals for German soldiers wounded in the land war in Europe. Here they intend to press English citizens into their terrible service. Here they intend the beginning of the end of our glorious civilized history. Here they would first trample the sweet garden we call England …”

  The great man paused and looked once more around the table, and each person present felt those eyes pausing momentarily upon him before moving on to the next seated at table.

  “But, and I told the Prime Minister this, there is no fear on Greybeard Island this happy night. I see no fear around this table! Not in the eyes nor the actions of young Nick McIver over there!” Churchill said, pausing to raise his goblet to Nick.

  Nick turned to look at his father, and saw that his eyes were shining brightly. Angus bent to his son’s ear and whispered, “War’s a fearsome thing, but we’re going to win this war, Nick, don’t you worry about that!” before returning his rapt attention to Churchill.

  Nick stared at his father. Perhaps one day he could tell him how much he already knew about the fearsomeness of war, how horrible it was, the things he’d learned. And even tell him about the power of the golden ball. If the Nazis did come to their island, maybe he and his father could use it to help England again, the way he and Gunner and Lord Hawke had used it against Napoleon’s navy. He’d tell him about it one day. But not tonight. Tonight it felt good to simply let his heart go wherever Churchill’s stirring words would take him.

  “Nor fear even in the youthful eyes of Nick’s sister, Kate,” Churchill continued, sitting there at her father’s side
. “According to Commander Hobbes, this small child gave the dramatic performance of a lifetime aboard the U-boat, and helped make its capture possible.”

  Angus squeezed his daughter’s hand and watched her blush the most delightful shade of pink as Churchill raised his goblet to her and said, “You honor us, Miss McIver, with your presence!” Hobbes leapt to his feet, clapping thunderously, and then Angus, too, and Nicky, and everyone else at the table, all clapping and cheering for the little girl who sat turning bright crimson with a big white cat sleeping in her lap.

  When everyone finally sat back down, Churchill continued: “And where is the fear on the face of their father, I ask you? A gallant aviator of the last war who may yet again be called upon to rally another valorous squadron! Where is the terror of Nazi dominion in the face of the stouthearted Gunner Steele? Or of Lord Richard Hawke, a man who has spent his life and fortune in defense of his country? Or England’s greatest secret weapon and one of her most brilliant minds, our dear Commander Hobbes? No, this monstrous Hitler shall find no fear around this table! Of that we may all be certain! Beneath her summer cloak of roses and lilac bushes, you see, this little green island, like our very nation, is built upon solid English rock!”

  Winston Churchill then raised his crystal goblet up into the candlelight. One by one, they all raised theirs to him, even little Kate who had by now fallen completely under his magical spell. And even Jip, who’d been sleeping beneath Kate’s chair, now roused himself and barked loudly. Only the cat Horatio, asleep on Kate’s lap, stirred once, peeked above the table, and shut his eyes again, unmoved. Under the table, Kate and Nick took their father’s hands. They saw him smile at each of them, his eyes shining with pride in what they’d done, before they returned their gaze to the indomitable man with the cigar, the man everyone in that room was now sure could lead them all safely through the coming dark night to the broad sunlight of victory.