Pride and the Anguish (37 page)

Corbett shot Trewin a questioning glance, but the admiral said firmly, “For God's sake take me to your quarters. I need a drink!”

Hammond joined Trewin at the rail, his face tight with anxiety. “I just heard. What are we going to do?”

Trewin looked at him. “I'm going to find out.” He lifted his eyes to the bridge.
“Right now!”

He found Fairfax-Loring sitting behind Corbett's desk, a dressing gown around his broad shoulders, and one hand thrust into the front of his shirt like a sling. Corbett was by an open scuttle, his face troubled and grave.

Trewin said, “I'd like to ask what we're going to do to help
Prawn,
sir?” He purposely avoided the admiral's angry stare.

Corbett replied quietly, “It seems that she is in a bad way.”

Fairfax-Loring winced and moved his arm up and down. “It's like this, my boy. As I've just told the captain, there is not much we
can
do. The
Prawn
is an old ship, and this fresh damage would slow her down even more.”

Trewin faced him coldly. “Then she's not a complete writeoff, sir?”

The admiral frowned. “Well, she can get steam up obviously, or I wouldn't be here!”

Trewin turned to Corbett. “I'd like permission to take the motor boat around the island at once, sir. I think it essential that we keep together.”

“Very well.” Corbett did not look at the admiral. “You realise of course that if we are discovered here in the meantime we may sail without you?” There was pain in his eyes. “But if you think you
should
go…”

The admiral shouted, “What the hell are you talking about? Even
if Prawn
does eventually sail she can't keep up with you! Two ships in company would be asking for disaster!”

Corbett looked at him coolly. “Are you ordering me to keep Trewin here, sir?”

“I'm not ordering you to do any damn thing! But that Jap patrol boat was only damaged, she'll be screaming for help and will bring the whole search party down on our ears if we sit here!”

Corbett nodded. “I can see that, although it is obvious that
Prawn
's gunners managed to knock out the enemy's W/T before she could send a signal for assistance.” His tone was mild. “Otherwise we would have been attacked
before
we reached here, eh?”

To Trewin he said shortly, “Go at once. But remember this. I will have to sail as soon as it is dark.” He followed Trewin into the sunlight and continued quietly, “Take care, Trewin. Take
good
care!”

Trewin paused at the ladder. “I will.”

“When I weigh anchor I will take
Porcupine
up and around the island before I head to the south again, Trewin.” Corbett was watching him intently. “
If Prawn
can sail she can come out and meet me. But send a messenger back in the motor boat as soon as you know what is happening.” He looked meaningly at the cabin hatch. “The admiral is evidently keen on leaving her behind.”

As the motor boat headed away from the gangway Trewin looked back and saw Corbett staring after it. Then as they
chugged between the reefs the
Porcupine
was hidden from view and the motor boat had the islands to itself.

T
HE
P
RAWN
was so well camouflaged with palm fronds that Trewin almost passed her hiding place. She was very close inshore with her anchors embedded on the beach itself, while her square stern was moored to a long outcrop of jagged rock which stuck out from the tree-covered beach like a stone breakwater.

It was all so unreal that as the boat glided gently towards the sand neither Trewin nor Dancy or any of the boat's crew said a word.

At first the concealed gunboat appeared like a deserted wreck, her hull showing all the new traces of combat, her upperworks pitted with splinter holes and blackened by fire. Then as the motor boat drew closer they saw figures running down from the hillside and others wading into the sea itself to greet them.

The keel grated ashore and Trewin staggered dazedly on to the sand, his ears ringing with cries and shouts of excitement as women and children, hobbling soldiers and smoke-stained seamen pushed round his little party, slapping his shoulders, calling his name, or just staring at him through tears of surprise and fresh hope.

He saw Lieutenant Adair with one arm strapped in splints and a reddened bandage around his head striding to meet him, his tired features split into a great grin of welcome.

Trewin said, “Thank God you're all right!”

Adair nodded. “Never imagined we'd meet like this, old boy.”

Trewin looked at the top of the narrow beach. There was a long line of sandy graves, and he asked quietly, “All yours?”

Adair wiped his face with his good hand. “Yes. Including my number one. He was killed outright.” He looked at Trewin as if he still could not believe it. “So the admiral sent you to help us, eh?” He shook his head. “I never thought he'd get to you in time.”

Trewin thought of Fairfax-Loring's words and replied, “Yes, he sent me.” The lie came easier than he expected. “Corbett is
sailing as soon as it gets dark. Can you be ready by then?”

Adair shrugged. “I guess so. We've been patching and plugging all day. We were holed so many times that I had to jettison more coal, so I've had my chaps hacking down trees for the bloody boilers.” He grinned, but the strain was stark in his eyes. “That's the advantage of my old kettle!”

Trewin looked at the savage scars along the gunboat's bridge. “It must have been bad.”

“It was. I had to let the Jap boat get right up to me before I could pot her with the old four-inch. But before that happened I lost fifteen men killed. I suppose I should have surrendered with all those poor devils crammed below.” He looked away. “But after getting so far, I thought, what the hell!”

Trewin turned his mind away from Hammond's report of the butchered nurses. Surrender would not have helped. He said, “I'll send my boat back with a message for Corbett. I shall stay here and give you a hand, if I may?”

Adair studied him carefully. “I'd appreciate that. So would the others.” He looked over Trewin's shoulder. “She's over there, waiting to see you.” He smiled briefly and walked back towards his ship.

Dancy said quietly, “I'll tell the boat's crew what to say, sir. I'm staying here with you.” He did not wait for Trewin's reply but strode back down the beach where the
Porcupine
's sailors were talking and laughing with about thirty children.

Trewin looked towards the trees. Clare Massey was standing quite still against a dead trunk, her arms hanging at her sides. She was wearing the same green dress as when he had put her aboard the
Prawn,
and he could see the great stains of oil and what looked like blood on the skirt.

As she saw him looking at her she started to run. She did not stop until she was in his arms, and for a full minute they did not speak. When she did speak her voice seemed to come from far away. “Oh, Ralph, I never thought I'd ever see you again. After we sailed one of the men told me that you would not be able to
follow, that your ship was too damaged to move.” She clutched his shoulders, feeling him as if to reassure herself that this too was not just part of a mad dream. “And you did not tell me! You let me go thinking it would be all right!”

Trewin said, “I'm here now, Clare. That's all that matters.”

She lifted her chin and looked into his face. “Even when it was bad I hoped and prayed that you would be safe.”

He touched her hair. “Thank God you were not hurt.”

She shuddered against him. “We didn't see anything. It was terrible. All the lights went out and we could feel the ship being hit again and again. Some water started to come in, and we had to hold the children above us to keep them from drowning before they got the pumps started.”

Trewin held her tightly, seeing only too clearly what she must have endured. “I wish I could have spared you that.”

She shook her head. “I'm glad I was there, Ralph. I mean it. Now I shall know what it's like.” Her mouth quivered in a smile. “When we came on deck and saw these islands I really did think I was dreaming.”

Trewin thought of the journey which still stretched ahead. Over three hundred miles. He said, “We're not alone any more.”

Over her head he could see the departing boat and Dancy trying to drive the children back to the cover of the trees without much success. He saw Jacqui Laniel helping a wounded soldier into a patch of shade and asked, “How is Corbett's wife? Is she safe?”

The girl nodded. “But she's changed. I can't explain it, but she seems so different from before. She doesn't speak to anyone, but just stays quiet and keeps to herself, even amongst all these people.”

Trewin ran his arm around her shoulder and together they walked along the edge of the beach. “I expect we've all changed,” he said slowly. “Some of us for the better, I hope.”

She said, “Will we be leaving soon?”

“Tonight.” He felt her go tense. “But this time we will be
keeping you company. So try not to think about it.”

She shook her head. “It's not that, Ralph. It's just that it seems so soon now that we are together again.”

“I know.” He glanced at the battle-scarred ship. “I wanted so much for you. To make things better again.”

She did not answer, but gripped his arm even tighter.

Trewin looked at the sky. There were a few low clouds, and he could feel a growing breeze on his face. At any other time the daylight would have dragged. Now, even his heartbeats seemed to register the passing of time. But in spite of his anxiety he felt strangely content. Perhaps for the first time in his life.

T
REWIN PAUSED
on the crest of the great outcrop of rocks and looked down at the moored
Prawn.
He could feel the afternoon sun across his neck and shoulders, and the heat from the rock burned through his shoes like the top of a stove. He noticed that the boats alongside the ship's battered hull were rising and falling with extra vigour, and that the anchor cables and stern wires were no longer slack and motionless. One minute they were bar taut, the next dipping deep into the clear water as the ship stirred uneasily on a growing swell. He shaded his eyes and stared towards the hard horizon line. There was no haze any more and the sea's edge was marked with a border of deeper blue, and below in streak upon streak of shadow some far-off disturbance transmitted itself towards the islands in a regular procession of shallow rollers.

Trewin turned away from the sea and continued to climb towards the jutting spur of headland. The
Prawn
was as ready as she ever could be for the next part of her journey. There was nothing more that he or anyone else could do now.

He pushed through some dry scrub and stood looking down at the girl. She was sitting beside a deep pool of trapped water which had probably been thrown up from the rocks in some fierce gale, and which gave some hint of what the sea and wind could achieve when they had a mind.

Her green dress lay drying beside the water, and she was wearing a towel wrapped beneath her arms like a sarong. She smiled at him. “I have been waiting for you. It's cooler up here, and we can see the ship if we want to.” She tossed her hair across her bare shoulders and added, “You look worn out. Why not have a bathe?”

Trewin was suddenly aware of the dust and weariness on his body, which was made all the more apparent by the girl's smooth
skin and the inviting stillness of the pool.

She was watching him gravely. “I have brought some food. We will have a picnic.”

Trewin said, “You'll have to look the other way.”

“I shall lie here and watch the sky.” She laughed. “I promise not to embarrass you.”

Trewin stripped off his clothes and lowered himself into the water. After the heat of the rocks and the airless confines of the
Prawn
's hull, where he had been helping to supervise the stowage of timber for her boilers, it felt almost cold.

He heard her say, “We could live here for ever. Just let the ship go without us and forget the outside world. I should like that.”

Trewin climbed from the pool and saw that she had brought a towel for him. He wrapped it round his waist and dropped on to the sand beside her. Her eyes were closed and he could see a small pulse beating at her throat. He took her hand and held it very gently. “You wouldn't find me arguing with you on that point, Clare.”

“I find I can think about all which has happened now. But when I try to look ahead I get frightened. We seem to have lost everything from the past. And the future is all strange.” She lifted herself on one elbow and stared at him. “Don't you think so?”

He nodded. “Rather like a book waiting to be written. Or trying to think of a garden where there's only rough ground.” He smiled. “Maybe it's better that way.”

She reached out and touched his shoulder, her fingers cool against the skin. “Remember when we first met? A lot has changed since then.”

Trewin thought of his shame and his anger. But as her hand touched his scars he was conscious only of her nearness, of his desperate longing.

She dropped her hand and plucked at the sand between them. “We will be parted soon, Ralph. That is the only future I am sure about. I don't want to lose you again. I must have
something to hold on to!”

Trewin put his hand on her shoulder and felt her tremble. The whole world seemed to be confined to this small shaded patch of sand and scrub and the gathering clouds which moved purposefully overhead. A hot breeze rippled the surface of the pool and he saw the blown sand settling in her dark hair. Beneath his hand her skin was warm and there were small flecks of perspiration across her forehead.