On the Beach (13 page)

She got restlessly to her feet. “Get me another drink, Dwight.” And when he bought it she said, “I want to go somewhere—do something—
dance!”

“Anything you say, honey.”

“We can’t just sit here mooning and moaning about what’s coming to us!”

“You’re right,” he said. “But what do you want to do, more ’n you’re doing now?”

“Don’t be sensible,” she said fretfully. “I just can’t bear it.”

“Okay,” he said equably. “Drink up and let’s go up and meet the Holmeses, and then go sail that boat.”

They found at the flat that Peter and Mary Holmes had arranged a beach picnic supper for the evening’s entertainment. Not only was it cheaper than a party and more pleasant in the heat of summer, but in Mary’s somewhat muddled view the more the men were kept out of the house the less likely they were to give the baby measles. That afternoon Moira and Dwight went down to the sailing club after a quick lunch to rig the boat and sail her in the race, while Peter and Mary followed with the baby in the bicycle trailer in the middle of the afternoon.

The race went reasonably well that time. They bumped the buoy at the start, and engaged in a luffing match on the second round which ended in a minor collision because neither party knew the rules, but in that club such incidents were not infrequent, and protests very few. They finished the race in sixth place, an improvement on the time before, and in much better order. They sailed in to the beach at the conclusion of the race, parked the vessel on a convenient sandbank, and waded on shore to drink a cup of tea and eat small cakes with Peter and Mary.

They bathed in leisurely fashion in the evening sun; in bathing costumes they unrigged the boat, put away the sails, and got her up to her resting place upon the dry sand of the beach. The sun dropped down to the horizon
and they changed into their clothes, took drinks from the hamper, and walked out to the jetty’s end to see the sunset while Peter and Mary got busy with the supper.

Sitting with him perched upon a rail, watching the rosy lights reflected in the calm sea, savouring the benison of the warm evening and the comfort of her drink, she asked him, “Dwight, tell me about the cruise that
Swordfish
made. Did you say she went to the United States?”

“That’s right.” He paused, and then he said, “She went everywhere she could along the eastern seaboard, but all it amounted to was just a few of the small ports and harbours, Delaware Bay, the Hudson River, and, of course, New London. They took a big chance going in to look at New York City.”

She was puzzled. “Was that dangerous?”

He nodded. “Minefields—our own mines. Every major port or river entrance on the eastern seaboard was protected by a series of minefields. At any rate, that’s what we think. The west coast, too.” He paused for a moment in thought. “They should have been put down before the war. Whether they got them down before, or whether they were put down after, or whether they were never laid at all—we just don’t know. All we know is that there should be minefields there, and unless you have the plan of them to show the passage through—you can’t go in.”

“You mean, if you hit one it had sink you?”

“It most certainly would. Unless you have the key chart you just daren’t go near.”

“Did they have the key chart when they went in to New York?”

He shook his head. “They had one that was eight years old, with NOT TO BE USED stamped all over it. Those things are pretty secret; they don’t issue them unless a ship
needs to go in there. They only had this old one. They must have wanted to go in very much. They got to figuring what alterations could have been made, retaining the main leading marks to show the safe channels in. They got it figured out that not much alteration to the plan they’d got would have been possible save on one leg. They chanced it, and went in, and got away with it. Maybe there were never any mines there at all.”

“Did they find out much that was of value when they got in to the harbour?”

He shook his head. “Nothing but what they knew already. It’s how it seems to be, exploring places in this way. You can’t find out a lot.”

“There was nobody alive there?”

“Oh no, honey. The whole geography was altered. It was very radioactive, too.”

They sat in silence for a time, watching the sunset glow, smoking over their drinks. “What was the other place you say she went to?” the girl asked at last. “New London?”

“That’s right,” he said.

“Where is that?”

“In Connecticut, in the eastern part of the state,” he told her. “At the mouth of the Thames River.”

“Did they run much risk in going there?”

He shook his head. “It was their home port. They had the key chart for the minefields there, right up to date.” He paused. “It’s the main U.S. Navy submarine base on the east coast,” he said quietly. “Most of them lived there, I guess, or in the general area. Like I did.”

“You lived there?”

He nodded.

“Was it just the same as all the other places?”

“So it seems,” he said heavily. “They didn’t say much in the report, just the readings of the radioactivity. They
were pretty bad. They got right up to the base, to their own dock that they left from. It must have been kind of funny going back like that, but there was nothing much about it in the report. Most of the officers and the enlisted men, they must have been very near their homes. There was nothing they could do, of course. They just stayed there a while, and then went out and went on with their mission. The captain said in his report they had some kind of a religious service in the ship. It must have been painful.”

In the warm, rosy glow of the sunset there was still beauty in the world. “I wonder they went in there,” she observed.

“I wondered about that, just at first,” he said. “I’d have passed it by, myself, I think. Although … well, I don’t know. But thinking it over, I’d say they had to go in there. It was the only place they had the key chart for—that, and Delaware Bay. They were the only two places that they could get in to safely. They just had to take advantage of the knowledge of the minefields that they had.”

She nodded. “You lived there?”

“Not in New London itself,” he said quietly. “The base is on the other side of the river, the east side. I’ve got a home about fifteen miles away, up the coast from the river entrance. Little place called West Mystic.”

She said, “Don’t talk about it if you’d rather not.”

He glanced at her. “I don’t mind talking, not to some people. But I wouldn’t want to bore you.” He smiled gently. “Nor to start crying, because I’d seen the baby.”

She flushed a little. “When you let me use your cabin to change in,” she said, “I saw your photographs. Are those your family?”

He nodded. “That’s my wife and our two kids,” he said
a little proudly. “Sharon. Dwight goes to Grade School, and Helen, she’ll be going next fall. She goes to a little kindergarten right now, just up the street.”

She had known for some time that his wife and family were very real to him, more real by far than the half-life in a far corner of the world that had been forced upon him since the war. The devastation of the northern hemisphere was not real to him, as it was not real to her. He had seen nothing of the destruction of the war, as she had not; in thinking of his wife and of his home it was impossible for him to visualise them in any other circumstances than those in which he had left them. He had little imagination, and that formed a solid core for his contentment in Australia.

She knew that she was treading upon very dangerous ground. She wanted to be kind to him, and she had to say something. She asked a little timidly, “What’s Dwight going to be when he grows up?”

“I’d like him to go to the Academy,” he said. “The Naval Academy. Go into the Navy, like I did. It’s a good life for a boy—I don’t know any better. Whether he can make the grade or not, well, that’s another thing. His mathematics aren’t so hot, but it’s too early yet to say. He won’t be ten years old till next July. But I’d like to see him get into the Academy. I think he wants it, too.”

“Is he keen on the sea?” she asked.

He nodded. “We live right near the shore. He’s on the water, swimming and running the outboard motor, most of the summer.” He paused thoughtfully. “They get so
brown”
he said. “All kids seem to be the same. I sometimes think that kids get browner than we do, with the same amount of exposure.”

“They get very brown here,” she remarked. “You haven’t started him sailing yet?”

“Not yet,” he said. “I’m going to get a sail boat when I’m home on my next leave.”

He raised himself from the rail that they had been sitting on, and stood for a moment looking at the sunset glow.

“I guess that’ll be next September,” he said quietly. “Kind of late in the season to start sailing, up at Mystic.”

She was silent, not knowing what to say.

He turned to her. “I suppose you think I’m nuts,” he said heavily. “But that’s the way I see it, and I can’t seem to think about it any other way. At any rate, I don’t cry over babies.”

She rose and turned to walk with him down the jetty.

“I don’t think you’re nuts,” she said.

They walked together in silence to the beach.

Next morning, Sunday, everyone in the Holmeses’ household got up in pretty good shape, unlike the previous Sunday that Commander Towers had spent with them. They had gone to bed after a reasonable evening, unexcited by a party. At breakfast Mary asked her guest if he wanted to go to church, thinking that the more she got him out of the house the less likely he was to give Jennifer measles.

“I’d like to go,” he said, “if that’s convenient.”

“Of course it is,” she said. “Just do whatever you like. I thought we might take tea down to the club this afternoon, unless you’ve got anything else you’d like to do.”

He shook his head. “I could use another swim. But I’ll have to get back to the ship tonight some time, after supper, maybe.”

“Can’t you stay over till tomorrow morning?”

He shook his head, knowing her concern about the measles. “I’ll have to get back tonight.”

He went out into the garden directly the meal was over to smoke a cigarette, thinking to ease Mary’s mind. Moira found him there when she came out from helping with the dishes, sitting in a deck chair looking out over the bay. She sat down beside him. “Are you really going to church?” she asked.

“That’s right,” he said.

“Can I come too?”

He turned his head, and looked at her in surprise. “Why, certainly. Do you go regularly?”

She smiled. “Not once in a blue moon,” she admitted. “It might be better if I did. Maybe I wouldn’t drink so much.”

He pondered that one for a moment. “Could be,” he said uncertainly. “I don’t know that that’s got a lot to do with it.”

“You’re sure you wouldn’t rather go alone?”

“Why, no,” he said. “I’d like your company.”

As they left to walk down to the church Peter Holmes was getting out the garden hose to do some watering before the sun grew hot. His wife came out of the house presently. “Where’s Moira?” she asked.

“Gone to church with the captain.”

“Moira. Gone to church?”

He grinned. “Believe it or not, that’s where she’s gone.”

She stood in silence for a minute. “I hope it’s going to be all right,” she said at last.

“Why shouldn’t it?” he asked. “He’s dinkum, and she’s not a bad sort when you get to know her. They might even get married.”

She shook her head. “There’s something funny about it. I hope it’s going to be all right,” she repeated.

“It’s no concern of ours, anyway,” he said. “Lots of things are going a bit weird these days.”

She nodded, and started pottering about the garden while he watered. Presently she said, “I’ve been thinking, Peter. Could we take out those two trees, do you think?”

He came and looked at them with her. “I’d have to ask the landlord,” he said. “What do you want to take them out for?”

“We’ve got so little space for growing vegetables,” she said. “They
are
so expensive in the shops. If we could take those trees out and cut back the wattle we could make a
kitchen garden here, from
here
to
here”
She indicated with her hands. “I’m sure we could save nearly a pound a week by growing our own stuff. And it’ld be fun, too.”

He went to survey the trees. “I could get them down all right,” he said, “and there’s a nice bit of firewood in them. It ‘ld be green, of course, too green to burn this winter. We’d have to stack it for a year. The only thing is, getting out the stumps. It’s quite a big job, that.”

“There are only two of them,” she said. “I could help—keep on nibbling at them while you’re away. If we could get them out this winter and dig the ground over, I could plant it in the spring and we’d have vegetables all next summer.” She paused. “Peas and beans,” she said. “And a vegetable marrow. I’d make marrow jam.”

“Good idea,” he said. He looked the trees up and down. “They’re not very big,” he said. “It’ld be better for the pine if they came out.”

“Another thing I want to do,” she said, “is to put in a flowering gum tree,
here
. I think that’ll look lovely in the summer.”

“Takes about five years to come into bloom,” he said.

“Never mind. A gum tree there would be just lovely, up against the blue of the sea. We could see it from our bedroom window.”

He paused, considering the brilliance of the scarlet flowers all over the big tree against the deep blue sea, in the brilliant sunlight. “It’ld certainly be quite a sensation when it was in bloom,” he said. “Where would you put it, Here?”

“A bit more over this way, here,” she said. “When it got big we could take down this holly thing and have a seat in the shade, here.” She paused. “I went to Wilson’s nurseries while you were away,” she said. “He’s got some lovely little flowering gum trees there, only ten and
sixpence each. Do you think we could put in one of those this autumn?”

“They’re a bit delicate,” he said. “I think the thing to do would be to put in two fairly close to each other, so that you’d have one if the other died. Then take out one of them in a couple of years’ time.”