Rendezvous - South Atlantic by Douglas Reeman

Author:Douglas Reeman [Reeman, Douglas]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Naval Fiction
ISBN: 9780091794767
Publisher: HUTCHINSON
Published: 1972-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Dancy nodded, relieved and saddened at the same time. He could imagine what Stannard had in mind. And he thought of his own house. The Christmas decorations, his mother complaining about rations, his father telling him how the war should be waged, where the government were going wrong.

He said, `Maybe we could meet up somewhere? Just for a drink or something.!

‘Yeh, why not.’ Stannard grinned lazily. `I’ll give you a shout on the blower when I get fixed up.’ She would probably have forgotten him by now anyway. But she was a real beaut. Long auburn hair, and a body which seemed to enfold a man like silk.

pA steward called, ‘Ambulances’ave arrived to take your eople away, sir.’ He waited until Boase had extracted himself from the group by the bar. `The P.M.O. is comin’ aboard.’

Dancy said, `Let’s go and see them leave, Pilot.’

Stannard nodded. `I was feeling very sorry for myself just now.’ He nodded again. `We’ll go and cheer them up a bit, eh?’

pThey grabbed their caps and hurried to the promenade deck. There were plenty of the ship’s company with the same idea, Dancy noticed. A ragged cheer greeted the first of the survivors, as on stretchers or walking with white-coated attendants from the base hosital they started to move towards the gangway. Stannard muttered quietly, `Oh Jesus, there’s Aikman.’ Dancy turned and saw the lieutenant walking slowly along the deck, a suitcase in his hand, a sickberth petty officer following him at a discreet distance.

Stannard bit his lip. Aikman was going ashore for observation. That was typical of Lindsay, he thought.

Most other skippers would have slapped him under arrest to await court-martial for negligence and God knows what else. But Lindsay seemed to realise Aikman could not be punished more than he was already. He would probably be kept in hospital and then quietly dropped. Kicked out. Forgotten.

He said impulsively, `Poor bastard.’

Dancy looked at him, recalling Stannard’s bitter anger on the bridge. His contempt for Aikman’s pathetic efforts to cover his mistake.

Stannard strode forward and asked, `You off then?’

Aikman stopped as if he had been struck. When he turned his face was very pale, his eyes shadowed by dark rings, like a man under drugs.

He said thickly, `Yes. I-I’m not sure quite what He could not go on.

Dancy watched Stannard, wondering what he would say next. Aikman looked terrible, far worse than immediately after” he had tried to kill himself. He had remained in his cabin, one of Boase’s S.B.A.‘s with him the whole time. Now he was slipping away, with not even a word from the other officers.

Stannard thrust out his hand and said quietly, `Good luck, mate. I’m sorry about what happened.’ He turned away as if to watch the ambulances on the jetty. `Could have been any one of us.’

Aikman seized his hand and said brokenly, `But it wasn’t. It was me.’

There were tears running down his cheeks, and the petty officer said cheerfully, `Come along, sir, we don’t want to keep ‘em all waiting, now do we?’

Dancy looked at Stannard.

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