On a Particular Service by Donachie David

Author:Donachie, David [Donachie, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-07-20T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

John Pearce was still not in the best of moods when he was faced with the old sod called Riddell, but if he saw him as a target for his ire that was disarmed by a high degree of obsequiousness. Any man Sir Peter Parker esteemed enough to feed better be shown respect. His logs and despatches were produced in a trice, with an offer that they should be carried by him in person to the office occupied by Captain Woolley.

On entering the room, once Riddell had placed his things on the desk, Pearce found himself faced with an elderly officer, heavily built and with a sedentary air exacerbated by bloated cheeks. Woolley had a full head of white hair set off with heavy whiskers and was soon found to be hard of hearing.

Invited to sit, he observed the man carefully as he gave the logs a quick perusal, before ringing a bell to summon a clerk who would no doubt give them closer examination in an attempt to spot obvious anomalies. They would then be passed up the chain to the Admiralty where a fine-tooth comb would be employed by men whose sole task in life was to make miserable the lives of serving officers.

‘Being a chartered vessel, Mr Pearce,’ Woolley boomed, in the way the deaf do, ‘they will, of course, go to the Navy Board not the Admiralty.’

‘Then I hope they will note the parsimony of the owner’s agent, sir. It is my contention he risked the safety of the ship and its passengers and crew.’

Pearce was sure Woolley had not heard that properly, even if he was nodding: there was a slight air of confusion in the eyes, quickly masked by the need to untie the ribbon holding the despatch from Sir John Jervis, in truth from his executive officer, Sir Hyde Parker. This he read head down, only to look up and make an attempt to compose his features.

‘I daresay, sir, the name now rings a bell.’ If it rung one with Woolley, it did so only when repeated in a louder voice, the truth acknowledged as Pearce added, still with force, ‘I daresay I am no longer to command Tarvit?’

The large head nodded, as the letter was waved. ‘You are to quit the ship at once, Lieutenant.’

Was there any sympathy? Pearce could not detect it but then he could not see malice either. There was nothing to keep him here; conversation would have been limited anyway by Woolley’s hearing affliction, but the captain had the decency to shift uncomfortably. It was plain he did not have much to say in the way of polite conversation to this tainted officer.

‘Then our business is concluded, Captain Woolley. I will go back aboard to collect my dunnage and make up the necessary paperwork to claim what I am owed in pay.’

The response to that was a noisy clearing of the throat and with nothing more to impart to a man now concentrating on his desk, Pearce stood and left.

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