Good Enough For Nelson (31 page)

‘She’s a near neighbour of the Prof.’s. I’ve met her a couple of times. Very nice woman. She’s a widow.’

‘Well, I’ll be damned.’ The Bodger laid down his paper and stared at it. ‘A College hat-trick. This is really quite incredible, you know...’ The Bodger’s eye caught another notice. ‘Half a moment, here’s something
you
haven’t seen. The marriage took place quietly in London, of Dr Seamus Rothesay, MSc, of Dartmouth, and Mrs Myra Shanks, of Ames, Iowa...’

‘Let me see that,’ Julia snatched the paper away.

‘
Ha!
You missed it, didn’t you?’

‘That’s the lady in America old Seamus has been corresponding with all these years! That’s very nice, Robert. He’s retiring this term, and now he’s got a brand new wife to keep him happy and occupied.’

‘Poor chap.’

The clock on the mantelpiece, set three minutes fast, began to gong the hour. The Bodger looked at his watch. ‘Must go. Divisions. When Lucy gets down, give her my love and congratulations ...’

When The Bodger had gone, Julia sat on at the breakfast table, trying to recapture her own feelings when she was newly engaged to be married. To be honest, it was probably one of the most ambiguous sensations in life. Happiness, certainly, but anxiety, too. Pleasure alloyed with tinges of doubt. Fulfilment, but a sense of anti-climax, too. To get engaged was a clear-cut decision, but it was overwhelmed with complications. It gave a great increase in confidence to face life. Now there would be two of you, to face whatever might come.

When Lucy came down, wearing a dress instead of trousers for the first time that term, Julia got up to kiss her. ‘Congratulations, darling, I’m very happy for you. I’m sure you’ll be very happy. Though I must say Robert was very surprised to see you going to marry a naval officer.’

‘I know,’ Lucy said, dreamily. ‘But I just fancy him. I think he’s marvellous.’

Julia nodded, recognising the authentic language of passion. ‘But have you thought about what it means to marry someone in the Navy? I mean I’m not trying to dissuade you, of course not...’

‘Too late now,’ said Lucy happily.

‘Of course. But there’s a lot to marrying someone in the forces.’

‘You mean the separation, and that? There’s not as much now as there used to be, is there?’

‘No, not quite. But you don’t want to ignore it entirely. There will still be quite a lot of time away from him. Even when he gets a job in a shore establishment, you’ll find he’s quite often tied up in the evenings.’

‘I suppose we can always get to know each other again, after each separation. Be like having another honeymoon again!’ ‘That’s true. But a marriage that never gets past a series of honeymoons, might be very enjoyable, but it is still likely to be an immature one.’

‘So yours with Uncle Robert must be immature then, if what you say is true?’

Julia felt the prick of the shaft. ‘Yes, I suppose that must be true. But really, Lucy, there’s quite a lot to marrying someone in the forces. You’ll find you have to entertain the oddest people, and the more senior your husband gets the odder your guests will be. Can you bear the thought of meal after meal with the most peculiar complete strangers?’

‘But surely, that will only be when you get like Uncle Robert and you, as Captain of the College, and Mrs Captain?’

‘Yes, up to a point, but it happens all the time. Are you ready to be independent, and yet not independent, mend the lawn-mower and handle the garage man and discipline the children while he’s away?’

‘Oh I’m sure I can do all that! ’

‘I’m sure you can, Lucy darling, but can you also handle him when he gets home and starts telling you you’ve been doing the lawn-mower all wrong and you’ve been giving the kids the wrong breakfast cereal and why did you send the car to that garage didn’t you know the mechanic was an alcoholic, and all the rest of it? When he comes back, he’ll want to take charge again, although you’ve really got quite independent while he’s been away. You’ll have to adjust to that. By the end of the day the children might have been driving you round the bend and when he comes home you want him to punish them, as their father. But when he comes home he’s delighted to see them, because he’s their father.’

‘Did you ever think of divorce, Aunt Julia?’

‘No,’ said Julia. ‘
Murder
often, divorce never. Let me see your ring.’

‘Ikey says it belonged to his grandmother.’

‘It’s beautiful.’

With a shock, Julia realised that she was saying all the conventional things and Lucy was making all the conventional responses. For all her hippy friends and her unconventional life style, Lucy was still a conservative conventional at heart. Her clothes, her beads, her shawls, her joss-sticks, her conversation, her yoga, her meditations, her politics, were only surface effects. They would soon be swept away and be replaced by the basically traditional view of life that Lucy held, in which a white wedding with all the trimmings, husband, home and beauty, all had their traditional place. Looking at Lucy now, Julia fancied she could already see the firm chin and decided manner of the future matriarch, another Lady Betty Monson, in fact. When all was said and done, Julia thought, it was Polly who was the rebel one, Polly who had kicked over her family’s traces.

Polly was her usual imperturbable self at The Bodger’s morning briefing. Perhaps, The Bodger thought, he could see just the faintest of flushes on her cheek.

‘Many congratulations, Polly. I hope you’ll both be very happy.’

The flush became a definite blush. ‘Thank you, sir.’

‘I suppose you’ll be starting all the paper-work to get out of the Wrens now, will you?’

‘Oh I don’t know, sir. I won’t be leaving just yet.’

The Bodger fancied he could detect the faintest note of defensiveness, as though Polly were already girding herself against family criticism.

‘That’s a splendid ring.’

‘Yes, Lionel gave it to me.’ Polly laughed. ‘Of
course
he did!’

‘OK, let’s have the day’s disasters now, if you’re ready, Polly.’

‘Yes, sir. The local papers and the local television people would like to interview Hilda and take her picture standing in front of the College today, sir.’

‘Whatever for?’

‘It’s her menu book, sir. Apparently it’s selling like hot cakes, sir.’

‘What, that cyclostyled thing, all stapled together and typed out, with June’s drawings, that thing?’ The Bodger could not entirely repress a momentary but unworthy twinge of jealousy that someone else was of interest to the media.

‘That’s it, sir. She called it
Lady Hamilton’s Personal Cookery Book for Gallant British Tars
, sir, and apparently it’s a bestseller and now some proper paperback publisher wants to do it in a new edition.’

‘Good God! Hilda having her picture taken in front of the College! Do you know, Polly, thirty years ago Hilda wouldn’t have been allowed to even
live
within thirty miles of the College, let alone have her picture taken there?’

‘Those were the days, sir.’ There was a warning glint of battle in Polly’s eye. ‘Shall I go on, sir?’

‘Yes please, Polly.’

‘Today, in the College, there’s the cricket match against Plymouth Command Marines. The final swimming tests for backward swimmers. There’s the performance, the first night actually, sir, of the Senior Tutor’s play
The
Highflyer
Affair
, in the theatre at six o’clock, sir. Lieutenant Commander Wright would like to see you, sir, on a personal matter to do with his division, this morning if convenient.’

‘Do you know what that’s about?’

‘Yes sir. I gather it’s one of his division who says he wants to leave the College and doesn’t want to go any further in the Navy, sir.’

‘Oh Lord. Well, I’ll see them as soon as you can fix it, Polly.’

‘Yes, sir. They’re outside now, sir.’

It was, predictably, Persimmons who wanted to leave the Navy. The Bodger could see at one glance that the young man was determined. It was always an ordeal for any OUT to be hauled in front of the Captain of the College for whatever reason, but Persimmons had clearly made up his mind to see it through. In The Bodger’s opinion, he was quite old enough to decide for himself that he wished to leave the Navy. The Bodger thought it almost always fruitless, and might even be considered impertinent, to try and make anyone alter his decision. But the Navy convention demanded that Persimmons be interviewed. Even had he been a senior Captain, loaded with medals, dripping with honours, quite bowed down under long years of service to his country, he would still have been interviewed by a superior had he announced he wished to retire prematurely.

‘All right, Persimmons, tell me why you want to go.’

Persimmons explained how he came to join the Navy, and how he was quite good at some of it and enjoyed a little of it but disliked and mistrusted most of it. There were other things he wanted to do with his life. He did not say so, but The Bodger knew, that leaving the Navy would be a personal defeat for him. He would have to go back to his family, who might not actually say ‘we told you so’ but would hardly be human if they did not think it. In the circumstances it was peculiarly brave of Persimmons to leave the Navy.

The Bodger’s heart was not in his own argument, but he took the line that it was early days for Persimmons to come to such conclusions, that something must have persuaded him to join in the first place and he ought to let that something have longer to prove its point, that the Navy had never been an easy profession to follow, that the Navy was all the better for having officers who had periodical doubts about it, that the Navy was now on the brink of a series of revolutionary changes, and needed young men like Persimmons himself who were not only representatives of the Navy’s future but also, through their families, links with the Navy’s past. The Navy was a hard life, but that made it all the more worthwhile.

The Bodger advanced his arguments, because it was his duty to do so, and without much hope that they would have any effect. But, to his surprise, and almost to his regret, he saw that they were having an effect. Persimmons was weakening. Maybe he was overawed by a Captain’s interview in spite of himself, maybe his respect for his family’s tradition was a bigger part of his nature than he realised, maybe he retained some residual feeling of challenge about the Navy, maybe even The Bodger’s arguments were more persuasive than The Bodger gave them credit for, but, after some more conversation, Persimmons agreed to withdraw his application to leave the Navy.

After Persimmons had gone, Shiner Wright lingered behind. ‘May I say how very well done that was, sir? I tried to convince him, without any joy ...’

‘No it wasn’t well done,’ said The Bodger. ‘Actually, I think he was right. He should leave. And he probably will, when he’s recovered from this. I had to do my duty and try to persuade him, and the combination of being interviewed by the Captain of the College and appeals to his sense of family pride were all too much for him. He might do well in the Navy. He’s got a lot of talent. Probably bred into him. But he
might
well be better off out of it. I can see that, and so can he. I’ve just put the Navy’s interests before that young man’s. The Navy may have gained a competent and useful officer just now. But
he
has probably lost something the Navy can never give him. Actually I’m a little disappointed I managed to persuade him so easily. No, I don’t feel I’ve done at all well. I don’t feel any particular satisfaction in what I’ve just done, I can tell you.’

‘I must admit, I never thought of it that way, sir,’ said Shiner Wright. ‘Obviously, we have to be careful how we use the power the Navy gives us.’

Persimmons joined McAllester and Caradoc and the rest in Lionel Tinkle’s lecture room, where they were all waiting for a lecture on Chinese air power at sea, from 1939 to 1945.

‘How did it go?’

‘Oh, I withdrew my application to leave,’ said Persimmons, miserably.

‘Holy smoke!’ said Caradoc. ‘What is this power these people have? Have they got us under some drug or something? After all you said, you decided not to leave?’

‘Yes. The Bodger somehow made me feel a heel in wanting to leave.’

‘He would. By God, they certainly put the screws on you in this place!’

‘No, he was very decent about it. It was just that, when it all boiled down to it, I didn’t feel as certain about it as I was when I went in there. I wasn’t sure
what
I wanted to do in the end. But I still have a feeling it’s all a bit too much for me.’

‘It’s a bit too much for all of us, old boy,’ said McAllester. ‘But you have to remember the College isn’t the Navy. There’s a whole lot of it outside this place. This isn’t the be-all and end-all of it.’ Looking at Persimmons’s face, McAllester could guess what The Bodger had done. This, it seemed to him, was the seamier side of the Navy, the subjection of the individual to the Service ideal. He knew, as he was sure The Bodger knew, that persuading Persimmons had probably been a mistake. The Navy would break Persimmons now, and the poor lad would never know what had been done to him.

‘Look out, here’s the blushing bridegroom.’

Lionel Tinkle stopped on the threshold of his lecture room. After all these years, the thing he had dreaded was upon him. The writing was on the blackboard.

Tinkle, tinkle little bell,
From all of us, we wish you well.
But still we cannot figure how -
Why Polly and not Madame Mao?

The Bodger did not have a chance to congratulate the Prof. upon his engagement until that evening, just before the first performance of
The
Highflyer
Affair
. The Prof. looked uncharacteristically abashed when The Bodger told him what a dark horse he was.

‘Och well... one doesn’t want t-t-to advertise these things too much, you know, Bodger, I haven’t even told the rest of my family yet.’

‘You certainly didn’t
advertise
it too much, Prof. I hope you and your new wife will be very happy.’

‘Well, you know what they say, Bodger, a second marriage is a triumph of hope over experience.’

‘Dr Johnson, I know. Anyway, you must bring her to have a glass of sherry with us next Sunday evening. In the meantime, on with
Oedipus RN
.’