Sunset (32 page)

Charles Yeung folded his arms. ‘Just the engines, Lieutenant Calvert.' He was thinking hard. ‘Then you may, er, become clean, gentlemen, and join me at my house.'

Calvert nodded, his eyes on the cockpit. ‘Very good of you, sir!'

She said, ‘I'd love to fly in it. With you.'

He was amazed that he could treat it so lightly. ‘Not in this plane, Sue. It's got no parachutes.'

At the prospect of a party,
Bertie
Granville brightened up considerably.

‘We'll make it an occasion, what?'

Calvert was climbing into the cockpit while the mechanics were perched on either float ready for the start-up.

Charles Yeung said, ‘It
is
an occasion, Captain Granville. I am going to offer my daughter's hand in marriage to Lieutenant-Commander Esmond Brooke.'

The hangar erupted in one combined roar of power until the very slipway seemed to shake.

It was as if every friendly dragon in the harbour was showing its approval.

‘Course to steer is zero-four-three, sir.' Calvert's voice was quite steady even though he was fully aware of the tension around him in the dark upper bridge.

Brooke crouched by the gyro-repeater, his eyes glowing faintly in the compass light.

‘Starboard ten. Midships. Steady. Steer zero-four-three.'

Calvert could barely hear the coxswain's response from the wheelhouse.

Serpent
was returning to Hong Kong after two escort passages to Singapore. Days and weeks of watchkeeping just so that some big troopships and supply vessels could reach harbour unmolested. Not that there was much chance of that.

Calvert raised his head from the chart table and stared at the final approach to the harbour. He could feel a lump in his throat and was surprised at his own emotion. The blaze of dancing lights, the great sheen of various colours thrown across the dark waters of the harbour: it was like a home-coming.

‘Dead slow, both engines.'

Calvert thought he could detect the same need in the captain, despite his level tones. It was so unlike him to enter harbour at night, and Calvert guessed it was because he could not wait until dawn.

He thought of Singapore, the great wave of excitement and optimism that had welcomed the arrival of the promised reinforcements. The new battleship
Prince of Wales
and the veteran
battle-cruiser
Repulse
had dwarfed everything else in the anchorage. Symbols of true naval power and superiority, a boost to servicemen and civilians alike.

For Singapore, and indirectly the Crown Colony of Hong Kong, the great capital ships could not have arrived at a better moment. At home in Britain, where most of
Serpent
's people had left their hearts, the news would barely raise any comment at this stage of the war.

For the losses they knew and understood had been real and terrible. The aircraft carrier,
Ark Royal,
the public's darling, not only because of her exploits against the enemy but also because of her ability to survive after being ‘sunk' so many times by the German propaganda machine and morale-hitting broadcasts, had at last run out of luck. Near Gibraltar she had been torpedoed, and after two days of trying to save her, she had been abandoned to her fate.

The hateful German radio question, ‘Where is your
Ark Royal
now?' was another bitter memory.

It was not over. In this, the closing stage of November, while people shivered in unheated shelters or sorted out belongings from yet another raid, came another blow at sea. The battleship
Barham
had blown up after being torpedoed in the Eastern Mediterranean with a terrible loss of life. The great ships like
Royal Oak
and
Courageous, Hood
and
Glorious,
explored by parents and children alike at the peacetime Navy Weeks and Reviews, had been joined by two more legends. It was a wonder that Singapore had been allowed the protection of two valuable warships of such importance when losses in contested waters were so bad.

‘Pilot boat, sir.'

Brooke's voice was sharp. ‘Where, man? I'm not a mindreader!'

‘Sorry, sir.' It was Leading Signalman Railton, Onslow's trusted assistant. ‘At Green four-five, sir.'

Brooke said, ‘No.
I'm
sorry. Rank has privileges, but that wasn't one of them.'

‘Signal from
Tamar
, sir.
Secure to buoy as indicated
.'

‘Acknowledge.' Brooke rubbed his eyes. The slow approach,
through moored vessels and avoiding moving ones, was strain enough. Now this, picking up a buoy in the dark. But Kerr would be ready as soon as he got the message. The motor-boat would be lowered to dash ahead of the ship and offload a luckless rating on to the buoy. A buoy-jumper, as he was known. He would cling there watching
Serpent
's knife-like bows looming over him across the stars and hope to catch the picking-up wire before the ship ran right over him. It would not be the first time.

Even as the thought crossed his mind Brooke heard the pipe.

‘Away motor-boat's crew! Buoy-jumpers to muster!'

Kerr was down there now with the fo'c'sle party and their leading seaman, Bill Doggett. He could see their faces as if he were with them. In only a matter of months he had come to know a lot about most of them, and a little about all of them.

At least this approach would keep Kerr busy, might take his mind off the news of his young cousin, who had gone down in
Barham.

‘Signal the pilot, Yeoman. We'll follow him in.'

He thought of the escort duties they had just performed. Compared to the Atlantic or the Med it was like yachting.

He touched his old jacket and felt the silver frame in the inside pocket in its waterproof bag.

‘Signal from
Tamar
, sir.
You can return alongside after Islip has sailed at oh-seven-hundred. Report on fuel and general supplies when convenient.
'

Calvert said, ‘Damn nice of them.'

Brooke ran his fingers along the top edge of the glass screen. The caked salt there felt like baked sand.

He said quietly, ‘She did well.'

Calvert watched him. Would they ever meet again when it was all over? He would never forget the Skipper and men like Onslow and the Chief, and the formidable coxswain with his grief bottled up inside him like hoarded rum.

‘Watch it now!' Brooke was staring across the port bow as a shaft of torchlight flashed out from the drifting motor-boat. The buoy-jumper and his companion were like cut-out figures in the beam, eyes wide as they peered at the slow-moving ship. The
second man was to hold his mate in position if the ship accidentally rammed into them.

‘Stop both!'

An arm moved in the wavering beam and a heaving-line splashed into the water.

A voice snarled, ‘Another line! You want to leave them girls alone, Tom! You must be goin' blind!'

‘A touch ahead starboard.' Brooke watched the buoy pivot closer to the port anchor. ‘Stop engine!'

The next line was seized and hauled to the buoy, the pickingup wire following it, bobbing above the water like a magician's snake.

There was a metallic thud and Kerr yelled through his cupped hands, ‘All fast forrard, sir!'

Brooke waved to him as a heavy cable was prepared for the buoy until first light.

Brooke stared across to the Kowloon side and then exclaimed, ‘The
Dumbarton
! She's getting steam up!'

He thought of the jokes they had made about the old cruiser. Her anchor cables painted to hide the rust, the framed pictures lining the cabin flats, all of which would have to be moved. Stallybrass must be furious.

Calvert said, ‘They'll miss the big party at the Peninsula, sir.'

Brooke clapped his shoulder. ‘Too bad.' But he felt a certain uneasiness. Where bound? An exercise to impress people? Or was
Dumbarton
going to join all the others at Singapore?

‘Cable secure, sir.'

‘Very well. Ring down finished with engines. I'll try and find out what's going on.'

Calvert looked up as a huge pattern of fireworks exploded over Kowloon. Sue might be watching them, like that first time when he had held her on the balcony, had felt her rise to match his need of her, to give herself again and again. They could get a special licence and be married here, perhaps at the cathedral. The Skipper would put in a word, and a naval wedding would be quite a change after all the grim news. But she would probably want to wait and get married in England. For their parents' sake. He smiled.
We are married now
.

The pilot boat passed down the side and a voice called, ‘Welcome back,
Serpent
! Try and stay for Christmas!'

Onslow chuckled, ‘That'll be the day, mate!'

Calvert heard Kipling clipping up the chart table and remembered how they had cheered and danced together like two filthy urchins when the seaplane's big engines had fallen silent again No, they were not the sort of people you would ever forget. Nor the two girls. Prepared to risk happiness, everything that war could tear down in seconds.

He craned his neck as another burst of lights, great feathered plumes, burst across the night sky followed by crackling explosions like machine-gun fire.

Kerr clattered on to the bridge and said, ‘I've posted an anchor sentry, sir. Don't want some bumboat merchant slipping alongside to pinch our life-buoys!'

‘Good. Call up
Islip
for me while I change, there's a good chap, Dick. If convenient I'll go across and see her skipper before they shove off.'

Kerr kept a straight face.
Always calls me Dick when he's anxious or worried about something. He's really going over to use the shore telephone line.

So would I if I had a girl like that.

Brooke was hesitating on the top of the bridge ladder.

‘We should have a party, Number One.' He did not see Kerr's secret smile. ‘I think we deserve it. I'll leave it to you.'

Calvert grinned. ‘I know a girl who'd like to come, Number One!'

Kerr smiled, holding the depression at bay. At least his cousin's parents and sister would be spared the ponderous ceremonial of a naval funeral, with a firing party and all the trimmings.

His cousin Tim was still with his old ship, with his friends all around him.

He looked at the stars. Who could ask for better?

Captain Albert Granville, the Chief-of-Staff, lit a cigarette and regarded Brooke with thoughtful gravity.

‘Nobody's certain, of course, but Japanese naval activity is on
the increase. Thank God Admiral Tom Phillips and his Force Z are at Singapore to discourage any hot-headed moves, what?'

‘And
Dumbarton
, sir?'

Granville looked at him as if he had already forgotten Stallybrass and his old cruiser.

‘Singapore, then eventually England. Major refit, I understand.'

They looked at one another without saying anything, each thinking of Stallybrass who would lose his appointment as commodore. He would probably end up in command of some training establishment, one of those peacetime windswept holiday camps on the east coast. A White Ensign and a lick of paint could work wonders.

Brooke waited, knowing this was not the reason for his summons to
Tamar
, the Ark.

Granville said, ‘
Islip
will stay with her until . . .' He seemed to become irritated. ‘Look, we're not children. I'll spell it out. As your brother told us, we have to be prepared. We have a ship ready to evacuate non-essential personnel although nobody seems very keen to leave before Christmas! Your friend Charles Yeung does not wish to go at all!' He saw Brooke's surprise and added, ‘The Japanese would love to get their hands on him.'

‘May I ask why?'

Granville smiled, reassured that others did not know as much as he did.

‘He has been the prime force for obtaining arms and military supplies for Chiang Kai-Shek's Nationalists. We could not become
involved
, officially anyway, but in my view the Japs would have broken down all resistance by now but for those supplies and would probably have left us alone.' He lit another cigarette. ‘I'll be glad when Mr Yeung gets his Dutch pilot for that damned seaplane of his – perhaps he'll buzz off out of our lives, eh?'

Brooke felt for his pipe but found he had left it aboard
Serpent
. Perhaps he had known all the time. The horrific attack on one vessel and the torpedoing of another had been swept under the carpet. Not
involved
, as Granville had just explained.

‘He carries a lot of weight in the Colony, sir.'

Granville stubbed out the new cigarette with angry, quick stabs. ‘I know, I know. That's all I hear!'

He relented slightly. ‘And you are really going to marry his daughter? I wish you luck, when you get to England, I mean.'

A telephone rang noisily and Granville swivelled round in his chair as if to exclude his visitor.

‘Of course, old chap,
naturally
we'll be there! The biggest event of the season – nothing would keep us away!' He replaced the telephone and said, ‘With
Islip
at sea, your ship is pretty well the most important one here. What a joke, eh? I'll be damned glad when she returns.'

Brooke saw him glance at the clock.
Here it comes
.

‘I must ask you to limit local leave for your chaps. Just until
Islip
gets back.' He waited, watching him impassively. ‘Carry on as if everything's normal.'

Brooke stood up.
While you go to the biggest event of the season
.

He said quietly, ‘That should be easy, sir, as I don't know what the hell is going on!'

Surprisingly, Granville smiled. ‘You destroyer people – you never let up, do you?'