Pride and the Anguish (41 page)

The voice-pipes were chattering on every side, and from the
foredeck came the sharp click of a breech-block.

Corbett did not lower his glasses. “Destroyer, Number One! At green four five!”

Trewin snatched his glasses and peered across the long stretch of open water. At the corner of his eye he could see the small inset and the islands behind which they had intended to shelter for the last stop of the journey. But his mind only recorded the distant patch of white foam, the wafer-thin outline of the enemy ship.

Tweedie's voice intoned, “Range one double oh! Target's course is three zero zero!”

Trewin wiped the sweat from his forehead. She was only five miles clear. He looked at Corbett. “Has she seen us?”

“Unlikely.” His voice was clipped. “We've got Banka behind us.”

The deck was trembling violently as the
Porcupine
worked up to her maximum speed, so that she seemed to be planing across the unbroken water.

Corbett snapped, “Starboard ten!”

Trewin stared at him. “We'll pass the islands, sir! It'll be full daylight in a few minutes!”

“Midships! Steer one two zero!” Corbett pursed his lips as he watched the far-off streak of white. “The captain'll be asleep if he doesn't see us soon!”

Trewin looked past Corbett's rigid figure and saw the
Prawn
's shadowy outline close inshore, still moving very slowly and dropping rapidly astern.

Corbett said, “This will give
Prawn
time to get amongst the islands, Trewin. The enemy will be too busy gaping at us to notice her.”

“Target's altering course, sir! Steering approximately three five zero! Speed twenty plus!” Tweedie sounded totally absorbed, as if on an exercise.

Corbett spoke very softly. “There is another inlet about five miles along the coast, Trewin. We'll make for that. It's sheltered
and very shallow. The destroyer will lose her keel if she tries to follow us.”

Trewin asked tightly, “What about
Prawn,
sir?”

“I've already told Adair what to do. I rather thought the enemy would hang around here just in case we came this way.” He eyed Trewin calmly. “You see, I think the Japs are only looking for
one
gunboat. Whenever we have been sighted we have been separated, remember?” He studied Trewin's grim features and continued patiently, “Adair will lie amongst the islands under camouflage as planned. As soon as it is dark he will head south for Java. It'll be up to him from that moment.” He lifted his glasses again. “But he'll need help before that. And time. I intend to give as much time as I can!”

The islands loomed out of the half-light and seemed to brush against the ship's flank as she surged past, her long, white bow-wave streaming away to wash noisily across an outcrop of sand and into the trees beyond.

Corbett said, “Port ten! Steer zero nine zero!”

The deck canted as the helm went over, and Trewin heard the water thundering hard against the exposed bilges as the gunboat swung slightly away from the enemy warship.

There were two sharp flashes, followed almost at once by the shriek of shells overhead. One ploughed into the sea, and the other burst savagely amongst the trees on the nearest islet.

“Well, now they know!” Corbett sounded more relieved than anxious. “Port fifteen!”

There were more flashes, and two columns of water soared skywards within fifty yards of the starboard quarter.

Mallory called hoarsely, “Bring her round to oh four five, sir! It's about four miles to the inlet!”

“Very good. Tell the coxswain!” Corbett was watching the enemy with all his concentration.

The hatch cover was flung open, and Trewin saw the admiral dragging himself on to the bridge, his eyes white below his heavy brows.

Corbett said, “Enemy destroyer, sir! But her shooting's very poor so far.”

Fairfax-Loring clung to the table and peered astern. “Where's the
Prawn
?”

Mallory replied, “She's dropped back into the islands, sir.”

The admiral staggered on to the gratings beside Corbett and shouted, “You wouldn't listen, would you?” He waved his free arm. “You see, we had to leave her in the end, just as I told you we would!”

He ducked as another salvo screamed above the bridge and exploded somewhere in the shallows far abeam. He appeared to get a grip on himself. “Or did you intend to use her as a red herring from the start?”

Corbett snapped his fingers impatiently. “Half ahead together!” He was staring at the mass of land which rose above the bows like a cliff.

More shells followed the
Porcupine
as she swerved between the sandbars, but as the land moved out on either beam and the depth gauge registered less than two fathoms the bombardment ceased, and within half an hour of first sighting the destroyer she dropped anchor.

It was then, as the rain began to fall in earnest, that Corbett faced the admiral and said calmly, “I should have told you, sir. I intend that
Prawn
should sail as soon as it is dark. She will head south, and by dawn tomorrow will be out of reach of surface attack.” He watched the admiral thoughtfully. “In the meantime that destroyer will be waiting here for us to come out.” He gave the smallest hint of a smile. “So you see, in a way we are the red herring, as you so aptly put it!”

The admiral shook himself, as if he imagined he was enduring some impossible nightmare. “You're mad, Corbett! You don't know what you're saying!”

“I sent our boats over to
Prawn,
sir. And as much food and water as I could spare.” Corbett was waiting, his eyes following the admiral's agitation with cold indifference. “If I can give
Adair a few hours, I believe he and his passengers will be safe.”

Trewin broke in quietly, “Shall I rig the camouflage, sir?”

“Not this time, Number One.” Corbett looked around the bridge, his face quite impassive. “If the enemy have any planes, and they come searching, I want them to see the ship.” His tone hardened. “Just
this
ship, do you understand?”

Trewin saluted. “Aye, aye, sir.”

The admiral swayed and gripped the table for support. Then he said harshly, “I want all officers on the bridge immediately!” Trewin looked at Corbett, who said coolly, “See to it!”

Fairfax-Loring strode to the bridge wing and stood staring at the overhanging slab of cliff which, in spite of the watery sunlight, still held the ship in deep shadow.

The officers gathered uncertainly beside Trewin, while Corbett seated himself on his chair.

Then the admiral turned and said very slowly, “You have all heard what has happened by now, gentlemen.” His tone was grave, and something in it reminded Trewin of the Fairfax-Loring he had seen and despised in the deserted bunker at Singapore.

He continued, “It is therefore my unhappy duty to take steps to put right what has occurred. I must blame myself in many ways for all this. My trust was perhaps too blind, my choice for authority too biased by past connections.” He sighed heavily. “But my duty is clear.” He looked at Corbett. “I am relieving you of your command as of now. As soon as it is dark we will return to the islands and sail with
Prawn
as arranged. The enemy will go after the slower ship, but as I said earlier, we cannot hope to save every refugee from this unhappy affair!” He turned to Trewin. “You will assume command.”

Trewin replied evenly, “I agree with the captain, sir. You will have to replace me also.” He was surprised just how calm he felt. Or was it some sort of infectious madness? As if in a dream he heard Mallory mutter, “And before you ask, it goes for me too,
sir
!”

Trewin turned and stared at the unsmiling Australian. But Mallory merely shrugged, as if he no longer understood either.

The admiral swallowed his anger and said stiffly, “I will not humiliate you, Hammond, by asking for your loyalty. I know your father. His shame would be more than I could stand.”

Tweedie stepped forward, and everyone turned to watch him. “You 'aven't asked me, sir?” He shuffled his feet and then said firmly, “But rather than 'umiliate you any more than necessary, by makin' you address a ranker like meself, let me say that I want to stay alive as much as most.” He scowled and thrust out his blue chin. “But I don't want no one callin' me a bloody coward, see?” He lapsed into silence and looked at his feet.

The admiral looked at each face in turn, his eyes blazing with anger and disdain. “Then,
gentlemen,
I will assume command myself, in spite of my injuries, and take the ship to Java.” He paused meaningly. “I don't think I have to tell you what will happen to you there?”

Corbett said calmly, “I think you've not questioned
all
the officers, sir?”

The admiral swung round as his flag-lieutenant, supported by Baker, the sickbay attendant, and Petty Officer Dancy appeared at the top of the hatch.

Hughes' thin face was very pale, but as he stared at his admiral his eyes lit up with some last desperate strength. “Tell them what happened when
Prawn
was attacked, sir!” His voice was shrill and unnatural, and Dancy had to grip him with both hands to stop him falling. Hughes shouted, “
Prawn
's Number One was killed in the first attack!”

The admiral rasped, “You were too frightened to see anything! So hold your stupid tongue!”

Hughes' head lolled. “Frightened, yes! But not so scared that I didn't see you strip that officer of his shirt and put it on yourself!” Spittle was running from his mouth, but no one moved as he shouted wildly, “You wore a dead man's shirt so that you could pretend to be wounded and hide below with the poor
bloody women!” He was sobbing now. “You bastard! You rotten, dishonest, cowardly bastard!”

Corbett lifted one hand. “Take that officer below, Baker!” He looked at Fairfax-Loring, his face sad. “Do you wish to say anything more to my officers, sir?”

The bridge look-outs and signalmen were pushing forward at the rear of the bridge, and the small group of officers fell back as the admiral removed his arm from inside the bloodstained shirt and stared at it with something like horror.

Dancy murmured in disgust, “I should have shot him when he came down the beach.”

The admiral looked round, his eyes pleading. “I had to save myself, don't you see? I'm more important than this ship, or those people on the
Prawn
! Can't you
see
that?”

No one replied to his outburst and he shouted, “You're the ones who are wrong!”

Corbett's eyes were devoid of pity. “We shall see, sir. When the opportunity arises to have me court-martialled, then you will know that my decision was right. If I was wrong, then it won't matter anyway.” He looked at Trewin. “Please escort the admiral to his quarters.” Then he turned his back and walked to his chair.

The admiral seemed to sense the hostility around him mirrored on the unshaven faces and in the angry eyes of the watching men. He looked once at Corbett's back and said brokenly, “I could forget all that you've done, if only you'll do as I say.”

Trewin touched his arm. “I think you'd better go below, sir. Too many people have listened to you in the past. Nobody is ever going to
need
you again.”

For the first time he thought he saw fear in the admiral's eyes, and in those few seconds he had a stark picture of the man so terrified for his own safety that he was prepared to hide behind the blood of a dead man.

He swung round and said harshly, “You go with the admiral, Pilot! He makes me feel unclean!”

Long after Fairfax-Loring had left the bridge nobody moved
or spoke. Then Corbett looked at Trewin and said quietly, “It's a strange thing. You wait for years to destroy the man who has ruined your life. But it's not really important, is it? When it comes, you merely feel ashamed. For him, and by him.”

As the bridge party moved slowly towards the ladders Trewin glanced along the full length of the ship. He could see the narrow entrance to the inlet and the hard line of the horizon stretching from wall to wall, like water in a great dam.

Corbett was right, he thought. It was not important any more. The past was over. And the future? He stared at the empty strip of horizon and felt strangely moved. Like the horizon, it seemed for ever out of reach.

T
REWIN PUSHED OPEN
Corbett's door and stepped over the low coaming. “Ship ready to proceed, sir.” The simple formality seemed to hang in the humid air, and he was conscious of the steady, drumming rain across the deck above and the gurgle of water running down the superstructure and wet planking. The rain had gone on all day, while the ship tugged at her anchor in a sluggish current, penned in on either side by the great walls of the inlet. As the time for sailing drew near the rain had increased, so that through the open scuttle Trewin could see the nearest cliff running with countless muddy streams and small avalanches of displaced stones and uprooted bushes.

Corbett stood up and stared emptily at the scuttle. “There's no sense in prolonging it.”

He looked alert and neat in his fresh whites, and there was no sign on his face to show the agony of mind he must be enduring. With Trewin at his heels he had been right round the ship, through every compartment and flat, pausing here and there to speak to some individual sailor, or to examine a particular section which took his attention.

Trewin said, “I'm glad this waiting is over. I couldn't take much more.”

“It's always the worst part.” Corbett picked up his cap and placed it carefully on his head.

Trewin noticed with surprise that it was his best cap.

Corbett saw his glance and said simply, “No point in doing things by half, eh?” But he did not smile.