Submariner (2008) (25 page)

‘I think so. But if she’s only just back at work, poor kid –’

‘Don’t worry. A person likes to be visited by her friends, especially at such times. Give her a surprise, why don’t you?’

Actually he didn’t know Abigail all that well. Had met her a couple of times at Pembroke House, the Wingrave-Tench place,
and once at the Union Club at a lunch given by her friend Nico Cornish. There’d been an air-raid alarm between the soup and
the fish, they’d trooped through the kitchens into the cellar, the raid had gone on for hours and so had the party, and they’d
never had the fish. Either it had gone off or someone must have eaten it. Mike had liked Abigail and Cornish too, also a character
by the name of Andrew Cohen who was – or had been – oh, impressive title, Deputy Civil Administrator or – no, Assistant to
the Lieutenant-Governor; and others including a stunningly beautiful girl, Diana something or other, tall and blonde, whom
he’d also met at Pembroke House.

Where on one occasion he’d played chess with Abigail – and lost several times, he remembered. She was about five-four or -five,
had rather wild brown hair and blue eyes; she swam and sunbathed quite a lot, by this time of year was deeply tanned, could
at first sight have been taken for Maltese – Italian, even, one of the languages incidentally in
which she was completely fluent – only wasn’t, her family home was somewhere in the Home Counties and she’d worked in the
War Office in London before they’d sent her out as a special assistant to the Defence Security Officer, Malta – Lieutenant-Colonel
Bertram Ede of the 4th Hussars, the one who must have given her her sick-leave, following the ‘hard knock’. For the moment,
that was about all one knew about her. Oh, except she was in her mid-twenties, a cipher wizard and a linguist.

This was the building. Hadn’t been sure until he was inside it. He told a Maltese corporal sporting thick-lensed metal-framed
spectacles, ‘Lieutenant Nicholson to see Miss French, please.’

‘Miss French expecting you, sir?’

‘No. But tell her
Mike
Nicholson, would you?’

‘If you would take a seat, sir.’

He did. He’d done a fair amount of walking on Valetta’s hard stone pavementless streets, in the course of the forenoon. Must
get some exercise, he thought, in the next week or two or however long it’s going to be. Thinking also about this Special
Operation and especially the reminder that there’d been one in progress during ‘Pedestal’, that while he’d been disporting
himself off Palermo Pat Norman had been landing a team at Catania, halfway up Sicily’s east coast. All one knew about it was
that the commandos had apparently not made it to the airfield, let alone to their later rendezvous with
Una
, must all have been either killed or gone into the bag. Gloomy enough outlook, therefore.

Although Shrimp might be right in his assumption that the Wops wouldn’t be expecting another attempt so soon after that failure;
and it was certainly arguable that hitting three airfields at once, if it could be done efficiently – from the military point
of view he supposed on the basis of ‘lessons learnt’ – should have a better chance of achieving its objective or at
least
some
of it than just one team of six or eight canoeists against a whole damn Fliegerkorps, or whatever their air-bases’ defences
might consist of. Couldn’t be more than six or eight commandos, plus their folboats, in the confines of a U-class submarine.
Maybe numbers didn’t count all that much, in the commando science of shock attack, but confusion did: and if they hadn’t known
there was a convoy on its way – or touch wood didn’t get to know of it this
next
time, therefore mightn’t be exactly on their toes … First step in one’s researches, he thought, might be to get all available
details of that Catania action, plans, operational orders and of course Pat Norman’s patrol report. The commandos, as Shrimp
had observed, would have their own intentions cut and dried for implementation after hitting the beach or beaches, and one’s
aim would be to combine all that with suggestions for less obvious landing-places, withdrawal routes and R/Vs for re-embarkation.
Inshore depths – within a few thousand yards of the coast, say – might for instance be only a few fathoms in the southern
part of Catania Bay – south of Catania itself – but further north, nearer San Croce, for instance –

‘Mike Nicholson.
What
a nice surprise!’

He was on his feet, with her hands in his. She was
very
attractively shaped: and with her tan and the contrastingly light-blue eyes – at this moment actually
dancing
eyes, and slightly trembly lips – ‘
Lovely
surprise, Mike!’

‘Carmella Cassar said you wouldn’t mind, and I happened to be in the neighbourhood, so –’

‘She was dead right. Mike, someone mentioned you the other day and I said “Oh, he spends all his time at sea.” Haven’t seen
you for
ages
! Of course I know you were all away for ages, but since then quite a few of the others –’

‘Got in yesterday. Had thought with any luck I might run into you at the Tenches’. But Carmella tells me you’ve been in some
kind of trouble?’

She’d nodded. ‘Perfectly all right now, though. Everyone’s been extremely kind, and I’ve been – well, rather gave in to it,
I’m afraid. Mike, if you’ve say half an hour to spare –’

‘Exactly what I do have!’

‘– might take a stroll, or –’

‘I’d really love that, Abbie.’

‘Fact is, I have to go out to Hamrun in about half an hour. Transport’s laid on – van actually … What about the Barracca meanwhile,
sit in the sun for a while? Then you might even come with me to Hamrun – just for the ride? You know – or perhaps you don’t
– government offices all moved out there – well, before you lot cleared out, anyway, and we’ve only just moved back in. Hope
to God we can stay put now. I’m going out there to look round and make sure nothing’s been left in drawers or cupboards that
might be of interest to – well,
anyone
… But, Mike – ’ they were outside, now, she taking the lead, making for a shortcut over the cobbles into Zachary Street –
‘you saw Carmella this morning, you say?’

‘As a customer, so happens.’

‘Let me guess. Lace for the old folk back home, someone’s birthday?’

‘
Bad
guess. Might not be a bad idea some time, though.’

‘She’s a sweet woman, isn’t she?’

‘You introduced me to her. Come to think of it,
you
were buying lace, on that occasion.’

‘Isn’t much else, is there.’ Flipping a hand towards a tall, bomb-scarred building they were passing. ‘Information Office.
Nico’s left us, did you hear?’

‘Haven’t had time to hear much, yet. But by “left us” –’

‘Transferred to Gibraltar, bigger and better job, although he’d have preferred to stay put. He was doing a terrific job, you
know. But there you are … Mike, did I ever mention my brother to you?’

‘Brother.’Taking her arm, looking down at her.
This
might be the start of the ‘hard knock’ story. Shaking his head: ‘I don’t think so …’ It had occurred to him that Cornish’s
departure might have had something to do with her problem. Bit of a coincidence maybe if it
hadn’t
– seeing that Cornish had been generally thought to be her lover. On the other hand her boss surely wouldn’t have given her
sick-leave for that – broken heart, whatever. Not unless the Colonel was a remarkably soft touch as well as more than normally
liberal-minded. She was saying, ‘Bob – my brother – was RNVR, a lieutenant, in destroyers.’

Was
RNVR, he’d caught, guessed from the past tense at what was likely to be coming, and slid an arm round her shoulders. They’d
arrived at the Barracca; she turned inside that arm, leant against him. ‘
Big
brother – twenty-six, two years older than me. Very much like you, in a lot of ways – younger, of course, you’re about thirty,
aren’t you?’

‘Twenty-eight.’

‘Oh.’ Surprised look. ‘Anyway you’d have liked each other. I’d thought that when or if he was here I’d introduce you, if you
were around. Saying “when or if” because I’d no idea how long he might have been here or in what circumstances, he’d said
in this letter “Might come calling one of these days. If I do, what would you like – brandy, champagne, silk stockings?” And
I’d answered saying “All three, you stingy bugger, but best of all bring yourself.”This was – I don’t know, three or four
weeks ago, and I was thinking that if he did turn up I’d give a party for him, and who I might have, including you, and at
the Gravies’ one evening I asked one of your submariner friends where you were then or were likely to be in the near future,
and he said he thought you’d be back soon but probably not for long. Bob hadn’t given me any date – couldn’t have, couldn’t
even have
known
his ship’d be coming in, only that it was a possibility, which in fact was
saying more than he should have, wasn’t it? Enough to thrill me in any case – we’ve always been as close as twins, hadn’t
seen each other literally for years – for the past year or more he’s been in HMS
Robust
–’

‘
Robust
. Oh, crikey, the
Ohio
.’

‘I saw that part of it happening.’ Turning in Mike’s arms, pointing with her head. ‘I didn’t notice that one of them was a
peculiar shape. What I’ve since discovered is that what they call the Director Tower had been smashed, most of it just – you
know,
gone
. And
then
I didn’t know it was the
Robust
. The other one was the
Penn
. Then when the broadcast got going, you know, the thing Nico used to organise, the new man does it now and not half so well
– telling the people here and in the streets what was going on – Spitfires over us too, tremendous noise, you could only hear
a few words now and then but I was – well, crazy with excitement. I raced back to the office, tried to get through to Nico’s
deputy and couldn’t, so – cutting this part short, my own boss got on to it for me, had a signal made to the
Robust
asking for Lieutenant French to communicate with his sister at – you know, DSO number on the Fortress exchange, so forth
– and after about two hours I got a message to go to Lascaris right away and ask for Lieutenant-Commander Jobling, the
Robust
’s captain. Which I did, and
he
told me – Bob had been killed the day before, at about the height of the convoy battle. He was Gunnery Control Officer, you
see, and –’

‘The Director Tower.’

One could imagine it,
see
it. Tower gone, chances were the GCO would have gone with it.

‘I had some sort of heart attack, apparently. Quite a long period I don’t remember at all. Some of that was in hospital. I
know I was desperate to go on board and see where –
be
where he – well, senseless maybe, but –’

‘Abbie, I’m so sorry …’

What was there that one could
usefully
say? Like Guy Mottram writing to Jimmy Ruck’s wife – what was the good of saying
any
bloody thing? Still holding Abigail, getting odd glances from passers-by, and as it were letting go, more or less talking
for the sake of talking, telling her, ‘Abbie, there’s damn-all one can say that’d really help. I could say oh, I’m so sad for
you, so sorry, but that’s nothing, is it – I
am
more sorry than I can say – but so what? Yesterday – listen, similar situation, about writing to the wife of a CO – one of
ours, boat overdue from patrol, presumed mined. A man everyone liked, plus his officers and crew, thirty-two of them – well,
OK, maybe she’ll be glad to have a letter or letters from us –’

‘Of course she will. Of
course
, Mike!’

‘You’ll have written to your parents, obviously.’

‘Yes, and telegraphed.’

‘They’ll be thanking God they still have
you
. Have you thought of asking for compassionate leave?’

‘I’ve written asking them if they’d like me to. Colonel Ede suggested it.’

‘What d’you think they’ll say?’

‘Probably –’ she’d moved slightly and he’d released her – ‘
probably
“come home if you feel you need to, but otherwise not just for
us
”. Something of that kind. As much as anything, thinking of Bob, what
he
’d have – you know, expected of us. I’m not being wet over this, Mike, anyway trying not to be, I know there’s a bloody war
on and – these things happen, no one’s immune.
Inviolate
, I should have said. I keeled over I suppose not just from – well, the hideous fact of it, but – the circumstances, one minute
madly excited and one’s mind full of him, then –
there
, right under one’s eyes, sort of –’

‘But now you’ve done your crying.’

Looking at him surprisedly for a few seconds before nodding, accepting it. ‘Yes. I have. You’re right. Do you have brothers
or sisters, Mike?’

‘One of each, both younger than me.’

‘Doing what?’

‘Alan drives a bomber, mostly over Germany, and Chloe’s in London training as an orthopaedic nurse.’

‘Parents?’

‘Father. Retired quack now back in harness.’

‘Good for him. One more nosy question?’

‘If you like.’

‘Well – how about girls?’

‘Heavens, this
is
wide-ranging.’ He shrugged, smiling. Rather pleased with himself, and surprised at having said something that actually
had
helped, that comment ‘Now you’ve done your crying’. Answering her question about girls with ‘A few, here and there. And you
– lovers galore, no doubt?’

‘At the last count – not even one.’

‘That’s astonishing.’ He’d wondered about Nico, but couldn’t have asked, and now she’d answered, more or less. Her business,
anyway – certainly none of his.
Absolutely
none of his. There’d been a general assumption that they were lovers, but that was
all
it was; they were together a lot, in fact never seeing her out with anyone else one had treated them as if that was the situation
– might well have tried one’s own luck otherwise, having always been
attracted
… He stooped, kissed her cheek. ‘Might play some chess, some time?’