More new men, changing methods, fresh routines. Only outwardly would she be the same ship. Soon he would not even have her to himself. Stagg was probably right about his future. A nice soft job in the Admiralty or lecturing young hopefuls on the merits of command. He sighed.
‘Something wrong, sir?’
‘I keep thinking about the lack of news. No more sinkings, so where the hell is or are the enemy?’ He smiled ruefully. ‘See? Even I’m doubting my own ideas.’
Fairfax watched him thoughtfully. He had been with Sarah all night. In the darkness she had pressed her nakedness against him and had whispered, ‘Ask Richard Blake to dinner. I’ll get a girlfriend for him. Remember Jane what’s-her-name?’
He had groaned. ‘Jane? I thought just about the whole fleet had been with her!’
‘That’s horrible of you!’ She had nestled closer, stroking him and driving away any chance of rest. ‘It was just an idea.’
Fairfax said, ‘You ought to get away for a day. There’s some great country round Melbourne. I could give you a name or two.’
‘No, but thanks.’
Blake thought about his father and the note he had received from the Navy Office that morning. As ‘things’ were quiet again it would not be impossible for Blake to be flown home. His father was an only relative, and with Blake’s record and unbroken combat service there would be no opposition.
It sounded as if Stagg had had a word somewhere. They were trying to get shot of Andromeda’s captain, too. He could hardly blame them.
Fairfax added, ‘I see that they are allowing individual sailings as of this week. That may bring out the wolves.’
Blake said, ‘Apparently Jerry was making a big thing of it on the radio. Convoys wiped out, us looking like bloody fools, all the usual stuff.’ He did not mention the propaganda from Berlin which had laid full stress on his own Victoria Cross. Britain’s best meets his match. There was no need to. It was doubtless all over the ship.
It was just as if the high commands of both sides were trying to inflame the two antagonists into some explosive action, like knights at a joust.
Or maybe the raider really had slipped away. To be interned in Argentina or to brave the patrols and sneak home to Germany.
Fairfax fiddled with his cap. ‘It’s none of my business, sir, but I think we’ve become pretty close during the past weeks. If there’s anything I can do. . . .’
Blake looked at him. So it was that obvious. ‘I’m a mess, Victor. When you face up to it, you have to admit that war is all I understand. I can’t cope with my wife, and I keep thinking about my father, dying as he did, penned up in his mind.’
Without realizing it he was on his feet, pacing about the cabin while Fairfax watched him.
‘Maybe I’ve been in combat so long I’m out of my depth on this sort of mission. In the Atlantic or the Med every wave was a potential threat, each floating stick a periscope. I can’t just settle and accept it. I know in my heart that the enemy is out there. Watching our every move like a tiger. It would make no difference if we had another cruiser or half the home fleet. One carrier would be enough, but the minds of people who plan these things are way, way back in the Kaiser’s war. It’s always the same. Ship to ship, honour before all else, never mind the bloody losses!’ He grimaced. ‘It must be this heat, Victor, I’m too steamed up.’
‘We’re getting on for our winter, sir. When you get home your summer will be waiting.’
Blake looked through a scuttle, her words easing through his guard. All green fields and thatched cottages.
What the hell was the matter with him? He had come through when many better men had died or been made into wrecks. He had been given the country’s highest decoration. For Valour. It said so on the cross. Yet, just because he was being moved on, because his personal affairs were in a muddle, he was acting like a lovesick midshipman.
But it was not like that. He wanted the strange, enigmatic girl with the sun-bleached hair and the rare smile. But, like Diana, he had driven her away, destroyed their brief association.
The telephone buzzed and Fairfax whipped it to his ear. Then he said, ‘Dock office, sir. The commodore’s on his way.’ He stood up. ‘That’ll make everything just perfect.’
Later, as Stagg stood with his large feet well apart on the quarterdeck and regarded the activity along the jetty, the litter of crates and bundles which were waiting to be checked aboard, Blake sensed his new glow of urgency and confidence. That seemed to be Stagg’s way. Up one minute, rock-bottom the next. I’m a fine one to talk.
Stagg said, ‘Still loading, eh? Fremantle was finished yesterday.’
As Blake led the way to his cabin Fairfax remained by the gangway. So there, Stagg’s words seemed to imply.
Stagg got down to it right away. ‘This is the toppest secret you’ve ever handled, believe me. But I’ve at last convinced the right people that we need to take the initiative. Thank God old Jack Quintin is still laid up, otherwise I’d get another bloody argument!’
Blake waited, watching the big man’s latent power, the way he moved about the cabin. He recalled what Stagg had let out about his captivity and felt a sudden pity for him. A man so large, tortured, humiliated, made to grovel by the Japanese, it could not have been easy to overcome.
Stagg said calmly, ‘The Germans monitor all our broadcasts, right? They have some good agents in the field, and probably get their hands on most of the local codes, too.’
He broke off as his mind switched to something else. ‘They’re letting individual ships sail on the safer routes, by the way.’
‘Yes, I know.’
Stagg grinned without warmth. ‘On the ball. What I like to hear.’
He continued, ‘We’re going to provide some bait. The admiral’s given it the go-ahead. The rest will be up to us.’
He leaned forward, the buttons of his white tunic protesting violently. ‘The one thing you and I really agree on is the area where the raider works. A big one, but with a common factor. I intend to ‘create’ an unescorted merchantman, preferably neutral, and lay it on the table for our German friends. Rather like a Q-ship from the Great War.’ His mood changed again and he added fiercely, ‘But this time there’ll be no harbour nice and easy to run for. With Fremantle and Andromeda working together, and using what air coverage we can put up ourselves, I think we shall flush him out.’ He sat back and asked, ‘Well?’
Blake nodded. ‘It could work.’
Stagg lifted his hands. ‘God preserve us, the man agrees!’
Blake smiled. ‘It’s worth a try anyway. It’s so dated an idea that the German command might just swallow it.’
Stagg stood up. ‘Settled then. We shall put to sea day after tomorrow. If the raider stays quiet, we’ll work into position. If not, we’ll go after him as before. But this is to be treated with absolute secrecy. Not even Fairfax is to be told.’
‘What d’you mean, sir? Even Fairfax?’
Stagg grinned hugely. “Cause he is to command the bait!’ He searched Blake’s face for opposition and added, ‘Your first lieutenant did Fairfax’s job before he found his feet, right? Well then, he can do it again. He’s due for a command of his own anyway. Good experience for him.’
Blake followed Stagg on deck. It was like travelling in the wake of a whirlwind.
‘What shall I tell him, sir?’
Stagg regarded him calmly. ‘Send him to Sydney. I’ll lay it on for you. He can liaise with the boys there while Quintin gets his sea-legs again in the hospital. Tell him he can take his wife.’ He dropped his voice as Fairfax appeared. ‘I wouldn’t mind bedding her down myself!’
Fairfax saluted. ‘Are you leaving, sir?’
Stagg nodded curtly. ‘It looks like it.’
Surgeon Lieutenant-Commander Bruce was on his way aft to make his sick report to Fairfax and watched as the commodore was duly piped over the side.
He remarked quietly, ‘He looks as if he means business. I shouldn’t be surprised if
he ends up running your Navy after the war.’
Fairfax grinned bitterly. ‘The Navy, Doc? He’d like his head on a coin as the first king of Australia!’
Blake walked past them without a word. Now Stagg had gone his plan of action had already lost some of its steam. He had been on the point of saying that Fairfax could take command of Andromeda while he took over the so-called bait. Perhaps that was what Stagg had been expecting, waiting for. Blake’s desire for more glory coming into the open.
He turned by the companion and looked back at Fairfax. It would all probably blow over. Schemes like this one usually ended where they had begun, in some Admiralty filing cabinet.
Moon was waiting for him in the cabin.
‘Second Officer Grenfell just called, sir. I told ’er you was with the commodore but she wouldn’t wait. A bit on edge, I thought, sir.’
Blake sat down and seized the telephone.
Moon said helpfully, ‘She was at the Navy Office, sir.’
It seemed to take an age before Blake’s call forced its way through the complex of shore lines, priority ratings and then eventually to the intelligence department’s office.
‘I want to speak with Second Officer Grenfell.’
There was another maddening pause and Blake expected the line to be broken for another call.
He heard her voice and said quickly, ‘It’s me. I was on deck when you rang, is something wrong?’
‘It, it’s nothing. I’m sorry. I just got back from Sydney. Your steward shouldn’t have bothered you. You must have a lot to do. I – I –’ She broke off.
Blake spoke carefully and deliberately. ‘Listen, Claire, I want to see you.’ When she did not speak he added, ‘Please, don’t hang up. I’m not going to be a nuisance or anything. I just want to see you. Be with you.’ He could imagine the Wrens in her office, his own men on the switchboard. Nothing seemed to matter more than this.
‘I know.’ She sounded a hundred miles away. ‘I was going to explain. To apologize. I treated you so badly. After what you did, I behaved like a stupid schoolgirl. Because of what we went through I actually imagined I knew it all. But I didn’t. And just now, when I called, I knew I could not make it seem clear so that you would understand.’
Blake said, ‘Can we go somewhere?’
There was a pause and he thought he heard her speaking to someone.
Then she said, ‘I’ll fix it. Give me time. But don’t say you want to meet me because you’re sorry for me. I couldn’t bear that.’
The line went dead. Whether she had hung up or they had been disconnected, Blake had no idea.
Fairfax entered the cabin. ‘Any orders about leave for tonight, sir?’
‘What?’ Blake shook himself. ‘Er, the usual. Just the duty part of the watch to remain aboard. All-night leave for natives.’ He tried not to think about Stagg’s plan. ‘That includes you. You’re to go to Sydney tomorrow. Stagg told me. You can take Sarah, “on the firm”.’
Fairfax stared at him. ‘For what reason, sir?’
‘They’ll tell you. It’s just for a few days, but I imagine it is important, so no careless talk. Number One will have to manage until you rejoin the ship. I shall be ashore myself, so he’ll have to get used to the idea!’
Fairfax was dazed by the swiftness of events. ‘Whatever you say, sir.’
Blake faced him and said bluntly, ‘Second Officer Grenfell. Her brother was killed in Paradox. What else do you know about her?’
Fairfax shifted under Blake’s gaze. ‘She went to the same school as Sarah, although they didn’t mix much. When she was commissioned she was at Sydney for a time. She had quite a thing going for a Kiwi lieutenant who was on attachment there. But nothing came of it, and she transferred to Melbourne, to Captain Quintin’s staff.’
Blake nodded. ‘Thank you.’ It was not even half the story, but he should not have asked Fairfax anyway.
Fairfax said, ‘I’ve always liked her, sir. Quite apart from being damned nice looking, she’s different.’
‘Yes.’ Blake filled his pipe slowly. ‘Carry on, Victor. I’ll see you before you go.’
The telephone buzzed again and Blake had it in his hand in two seconds.
She said quickly, ‘I can’t get away yet. Could you, I mean, would you come into Melbourne?’
‘I’m practically there.’ He tried to sound relaxed, at ease.
‘It’s nothing really. I thought you might like to come to my home again. I know about your orders. When you’ll be leaving. Tomorrow I can get time off, if you like we could do the tourist thing, Captain Cook’s cottage, take some pictures.’
Despite her equally matter of fact tone he knew his reply was important.
‘I’d like that a lot, Claire. It will do us both good. I’ll get some civvies and –’
‘No. Come as you are. For me.’
Blake replaced the telephone and pressed Moon’s bell.
‘I’m going ashore, Moon. You’ve been in Melbourne lots of times, I suppose?’
‘Me, sir? I should jolly well think so. Indeed, when I was in the old Renown we come ’ere once with royalty.’
‘I should have guessed. Well, there’s a shop I want to know about. . . .’
The two men stood in the garden of the white-painted house beside the little church, their pipes glowing like fire-flies in the twilight.
Blake could hear the late breeze hissing through the sun-scorched grass, the click . . . click . . . click of some kind of insect beyond the fence.
‘When did you first decide to make the church your life?’
It was amazing how easy it was to speak with the tall, lean minister after so short an acquaintance. Now, as they lounged companionably by the back porch waiting to go inside for supper, Blake felt he had known the man for years.
Hugh Grenfell sounded far-away. Perhaps he often tried to pinpoint the exact moment.
‘I was in the infantry in the last lot, the PBI. I went through most of it, the Dardanelles, France. Lice, mud and corpses. I expect it was around that time. I never really thought I’d come through. So many didn’t. In just one morning, between dawn and eleven o’clock, we lost twenty thousand. Not all Aussies, of course, but enough to have left a real gap in most of our small towns to this day. When it was finally over I suppose I felt I should give something back. For being given a chance.’
Blake nodded, thinking of his own father. ‘I was sorry about your son.’
‘Yeh. Dave was the apple of his mother’s eye. Mine, too, in some ways.’ He turned the matter aside and asked, ‘What about our Claire? You seem to get along just fine.’
Blake stared straight in front of him. ‘I expect she’s told you about me. That I’m married?’
‘No, but the fact you told her makes a difference.’ He waved his pipe in the air. ‘Easy, Richard, I’m not canvassing for marriages!’ He chuckled. ‘But I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t interested!’
Blake said, ‘My marriage is finished. I’m not blaming Diana entirely. She’s a product of our times, live while you can, to hell with tomorrow. I’ve tried not to believe most of it, to tell myself it was only a passing thing. But I was naïve, I can see it now.’
Hugh Grenfell glanced at Blake’s profile. ‘I’d have guessed differently. From her view-point, that is. A nice looking chap, a hero, you can’t do better than that?’
Blake had thought along the same lines. Often. Now that he had the VC, the splash of publicity which had followed Andromeda’s spectacular victory, maybe she would try to erase the past, to come back to him. ‘He had asked himself many times, what would he do, how would he react? Until he had met Claire.
‘Perhaps.’
‘Of course, some people misunderstand Claire, you know.’ It was casually put. ‘But she’s not a big city girl, and despite the fancy uniform and the trust she’s been given by her boss, Captain Quintin, she’s unsure, vulnerable. Then there was this New Zealander she met in Sydney. He’s gone now. Just as well.’ He turned
and added mildly, ‘Otherwise I’d probably have forgotten my cloth and beaten the hell out of him.’ He tapped out his pipe and ground away the red ashes with his heel. ‘She loved him, or thought she did, and that’s what counts, isn’t it? But he only wanted one thing from her, and then he turned out to be spliced to a nice girl back home.’
Blake listened to the hurt in the man’s voice and guessed he was unused to talking so freely about it. It explained a lot. The girl’s aloofness when he had first arrived, her remarks about Diana. It was more than likely that the unknown New Zealander had accused her of being frigid just to break down her guard.
The minister cocked his head. ‘Time to eat, by the sound of it.’ He touched Blake’s arm. ‘I’m glad we talked. You saved Claire’s life, and if there’s anything you need from me, just ask.’
They walked into the room with its table groaning under the weight of food.
Two of the Grenfell’s neighbours had come across to eat with them, but as far as Blake was concerned the girl stood completely alone from all of them.
There was as much food on the table as would be given in rations to a whole family for a week at home, he thought.
They soon got the topic of conversation round to Britain, to the war, how long it would last.
Once he found himself thinking of the German captain, Rietz, and wondered if he nursed the hope for an early peace.
Throughout the meal the girl said very little, unless it was to answer a direct question. She sat opposite Blake, and he was very conscious of her nearness, the way she watched his hands, or his face when he was speaking. Comparing him with the New Zealander? Wondering if he, like the other man, had the motives of a fraud?
The telephone jangled, and with a chuckle Hugh Grenfell stood up and said, ‘One of my flock, I expect. Needing to borrow a quart of this home-made brew until next week.’
But it was not. The call was from Melbourne and the message for Blake was brief.
He re-entered the room, seeing their faces turned towards him, the way the girl had screwed up a napkin in one hand without apparently noticing it.
He said, ‘I have to go back.’ He looked at her, their glance excluding the others. ‘They want you, too.’ He felt suddenly deflated, embittered by the interruption.
A Ship Must Die (1981) Page 16
