The Dangerous Years (22 page)

‘Girls weep on their sisters’ shoulders. And then the sisters weep on their boyfriends’. Mabel doesn’t like Kimister.’

‘Why not?’

‘It seems that when you moved out, he moved in.’

‘Moved in?’

‘For God’s sake, perhaps she got it wrong.’ Verschoyle sounded harassed and unhappy. ‘Perhaps there’s nothing in it. You know what Mabel’s like.’

‘Yes, I do. What was she suggesting? That Charley and Kimister–?’

‘I wish to God I’d kept out of this.’ Verschoyle sighed and nodded. ‘Yes,’ he said.

Kelly stared at him, shocked and bewildered. After a lifetime of certainty, he’d been shaken to discover that Charley could give him marching orders, but to find that she could turn to Kimister for satisfaction shook him to the core.

‘You mean–?’

Verschoyle nodded.

‘The whole bloody hog?’

‘Oh, Christ! Yes! That’s what Mabel said! But, for God’s sake, take no notice! Even if it’s right, perhaps the poor girl got a bit sick of waiting for you. You weren’t exactly home much. And she didn’t ask what
you’d
been up to, I’ll be bound. Surely you’re adult enough to accept it.’

Kelly wasn’t sure he was. He’d seen a few idols toppled in his life, but there’d never been such a resounding crash as this time. He felt resentful, cheated and, remembering Charley’s letters, bitter.

‘How about me putting you ashore to find someone else?’ Verschoyle suggested.

‘No!’ Kelly’s face was sullen. ‘If it’s Albert Kimister she wants, then it had better be Albert Bloody Kimister.’

‘I think you’re making a damn great mistake.’

‘I shall know that when I return.’

Verschoyle sighed and shrugged. ‘Have it your own way. There’s nothing so blasted stubborn as an honourable man who sees honour go astray in his friends. I think you’re a bloody fool.’

Ten minutes later, still scowling, still shaken, still uncertain, Kelly joined Baiodin on
Wanderer
’s stern and spent half an hour near the APC wharf as the ship oiled, shooting at rubbish in the harbour to check how the Luger threw its bullets.

A P and O boat downriver gave a gloomy hoot as it prepared to sail and Verschoyle appeared on the bridge. ‘Firing practice finished?’ he asked blandly. He appeared to have forgotten their argument.

‘Yes,’ Kelly snapped.

‘Right. Well, we have the “go ahead” from the flagship, so I think it’s time we were off.’ Verschoyle stared forward. ‘All ready on the forecastle?’

‘All ready, sir!’

‘Slip!’ As the buoy cable clattered free, Verschoyle turned to the officer of the watch. ‘Half ahead together. Take her away, Coxswain.’

They ran into the first refugees at Kiang Yin downriver from Nanking. They were boarding a river steamer with all their belongings and were in no mood to be helpful. They’d lost practically everything they possessed and considered the British government – with whom they lumped the navy, the army and the air force – had let them down. The consul-general’s assistant, who appeared with the Senior Naval Officer, a lieutenant-commander from the gunboat flotilla, talked to Kelly in his cabin – and none too willingly because he shared the general view.

‘Things had quietened down,’ he complained. ‘And some of those people who’d refugeed had returned. Then the Nationalists arrived and they were cock-a-hoop and thought they could carry everything before them. We took refuge in a B and S hulk in the river and buildings outside the walls.’

‘An attempt was made to land Marines.’ The naval officer took up the chant. ‘But the Chinese had armed sentries at the city gate. We got ’em in by sending ’em through three at a time by taxi.’

‘Nobody expected trouble,’ the consul’s assistant joined in again. ‘In the end we decided that complete evacuation was the best.’

‘It was bloody hard getting our Marines out again, too.’ The lieutenant-commander seemed to think they’d been let down. ‘And one seaman was shot dead by a sniper. The consulate was looted, and the consul-general was wounded and held to ransom with his wife and the female staff. They were in the building for thirty-one hours and the women were subjected to the grossest indignities. They also tried to loot the American consulate, but the Americans, of course, bought them off with money.’

He sounded almost as if he resented the American wealth and Kelly wondered why the British hadn’t though of that simple solution.

‘What about Wu-Pi?’

The lieutenant-commander looked startled. ‘Wu-Pi’s nothing to do with us.’

‘It is with
me
,’ Kelly said. ‘I’m looking for Mr and Mrs Withinshawe.’

‘That woman!’ The consul’s secretary looked bitter. ‘They were warned to head for Nanking and the Consulate but they didn’t come. Now I hear they’ve lost the
Swei-Fan
. If you’re thinking of trying to get ’em out you’ll never do it. The mob’s out up there and the Nationalists are on the rampage.’

At Nanking feelings were running even higher. The river seemed to be full of warships, from a cruiser down to the little flatiron-like gunboats, and the SNO, the captain of the cruiser,
Coronet
, was suffering from a great deal of anxiety because of the disappearance of the Withinshawes and the reported arrival in the vicinity of a string of missionaries and their families from up-country who’d got lost. He had sent the gunboat,
Spider
, up the previous afternoon to find them and bring them off, but the decision had been promptly slammed back in his face, because
Spider
was now trapped and aground just beyond Wu-Pi with her captain, coxswain and one rating killed by a shell, and four more men wounded, two of them seriously.

Kelly frowned, thinking of Rumbelo. ‘Names, sir?’

The SNO shook his head. ‘No names yet,’ he said. ‘Apart from the captain. I’m considering sending
Emerald
up to fetch her out, but they’ve got a battery on the point, and I’m still trying to decide the best way to go about it.’

‘Think the operation could be delayed for a while, sir?’

‘Why?’

‘I’d like to be put aboard
Spider
. I’ve been sent up to find the Withinshawes, and I might also turn up your lost missionaries.’

The SNO eyed Kelly dubiously. He was itching to do someone some damage. ‘It might be possible,’ he agreed. ‘They’re letting us send a surgeon up to
Spider
’s wounded, and I can get
Centipede
up to the bend under a white flag. We can put the doctor aboard
Spider
by motor boat. How many of you are there?’

‘Two.’

The SNO nodded. ‘You’ll have to hide under a tarpaulin. We’ll do the job at dusk and put you aboard near the hatch on the side away from the shore. We’re sending extra blankets up so we’ll get the crew to stand by to take them aboard. You ought to be able to slip among ’em in the confusion.’

The surgeon, a lieutenant called Chadwick, seemed frighteningly young, as though he were just out of medical school, but he was quite calm and entirely unperturbable.

‘Get hold of the Sub,’ Kelly instructed him as
Centipede’
s boat drew away. ‘Tell him you want every man on deck, because they’ll be watching from the shore with binoculars.’

Spider
lay with her bows on the mud, opposite a barrier of oil drums, logs and overturned carts the Chinese had erected on the bund, a blackened scorch mark just behind the bridge where the shell which had killed her captain had burst. No attempt had been made to clean up the decks and they could see the wreckage still alongside the wheelhouse.

Just below her downstream, the Clemo-Oriental ship,
Swei-Fan
, a medium-sized cargo vessel, lay in midstream. Occasionally a Chinese soldier moved along the deck but otherwise she looked deserted, one of her davits empty as if the boat had been stolen. The town was ominously quiet, though occasionally they heard yells from the mob still prowling the streets, and there were several columns of smoke from burning houses lifting slowly into the sky.

As they arrived alongside
Spider
, a youthful-looking sub-lieutenant, who seemed to be scared stiff, appeared from below.

‘Better hurry,’ he urged.

‘Get your men on deck, Sub,’ Chadwick said. ‘We have blankets.’

‘Push ’em up. I’ll get a couple of chaps.’

‘Turn ’em all out. Those are my instructions.’

‘Just for a pile of blankets and medical supplies?’

Kelly pushed his head out from under the tarpaulin. ‘For Christ’s sake, Sub, do as you’re told!’

The sub-lieutenant jumped and a few minutes later two dozen men were assembled on the deck, none of them Rumbelo, Kelly noticed. There were a few uncomplimentary comments about the number it had been necessary to turn out for so few supplies and Kelly’s head appeared once more.

‘Shut your rattle,’ he snapped. ‘And stay in a bunch! Hop aboard, Balodin, and get out of sight!’

As the interpreter vanished among the crowded sailors, Kelly turned to the doctor. ‘Right, Doc, it’s all yours. Make as much fuss about your blankets as possible so they can see ’em from the shore.’

As Chadwick nodded, he dived between the groups of sailors and vanished below. Balodin was waiting in the alleyway leading to the captain’s cabin, being greeted by the ship’s dog.

‘At least one of ’em’s got his tail up,’ he observed.

The Sub, a youngster called Gregory, looked as though he’d only just passed his examinations and, with three bodies awaiting burial and four wounded men whose condition was growing more and more distressing, he was white and strained.

There had been no sign of Rumbelo and Kelly was growing anxious. ‘Let’s go and see the wounded,’ he said.

The four injured men, all punctured by shell splinters and in great pain, were in the wardroom where an emergency dressing station had been set up. Outside the door, twisted metal and shattered glass littered the alley and water from burst pipes swilled about. There was a stink of blocked heads and ether from the wrecked sick bay, but the burly figure bending over one of the injured men with a needle and gut was familiar and Kelly breathed a sigh of relief. As he entered, the figure straightened up, and a face as featureless as a potato stared at Kelly then broke into a wide grin.

‘Mr Kelly, sir!’ Rumbelo said. ‘This is a surprise, and no mistake.’

Kelly handed out the chocolate and cigarettes he’d brought with him and in the faces of the injured men there was a look of mingled gratitude, relief and reassurance.

‘We’ll soon have you out of here,’ he said.

Outside Rumbelo was waiting for him. The long years of intelligent discipline, experience, humour and pride in the Service to which he’d devoted his life had left their traces in a self-confident unflappability.

‘The engines are all right, sir,’ he said. ‘And the steering’s all right, too. No reason at all why we shouldn’t get off here under our own steam.’

Kelly smiled. ‘That’s what I like to hear, Rumbelo. How badly are we aground?’

‘Held by the bows, sir. But there’s plenty of water round us if we can only reach it. We only draw four and a half feet.’

‘How about the hull?’

‘Leaks a bit, sir. A few holes. But nothing to worry about.’

‘Right. Let’s have ’em plugged with hammocks and bedding and shored up with mess tables and timber.’

Heading for the bridge, Kelly found the Sub waiting for him. He was nervous and worried. ‘The Chinese crew all jumped overboard and left us,’ he announced.

‘Dry your tears, Sub,’ Kelly snapped. ‘We ran ships without Chinese before. We’re going to take
Spider
out of here.’

Gregory seemed inconsolable. ‘There’s no chart, sir, and we’re short of men.’

‘And the ship’s covered with rubbish, broken glass and debris!’ Kelly retorted. ‘To say nothing of blood everywhere! I think you should pull yourself together and get her cleaned up! Let’s have a start made as soon as possible. In the meantime, I’d like to see the Chief.’

‘Chief ERA Dover, sir. I’ll take you to him.’

‘No, you won’t! You’ll bring him to
me
. I’ll be in the captain’s cabin.’

‘I’ll go and fetch him.’

‘For God’s sake, Sub,’ Kelly snapped. ‘Pull yourself together! Until I came you were captain of this bloody ship! The captain doesn’t run messages. Send someone.’

Chief ERA Dover was a tall black-browed man who seemed to dislike the sub-lieutenant. He gave a brief factual report that bore out what Rumbelo had said.

‘How about pumps?’ Kelly asked.

‘Damaged, sir. But they’ll be working again any time. There’s also been a lot of damage to the electrics and with engines shut down there’s no power available. Some of the lights, ventilators, and other gear aren’t working either, because we haven’t enough insulating tape on board to cover the damage to cables and some of the repairs’ll have to be left bare.’

‘What about radio?’

‘Out, sir. Wireless office smashed. Wireless operator among the dead.’

‘Right.’ Kelly slapped at a mosquito and looked at Gregory. ‘There seems to be a lot of animal life aboard, Sub. Can we do anything about it?’

‘We have Flit sprays, sir.’

‘Break ’em out. How about rats?’

‘All ships have rats, sir.’

‘We have a dog. See he earns his keep. How about fans, Chief? It’s hot on board.’

‘The shell did a lot of damage, sir, but I’ll have ’em working soon.’

‘Right. Well, we’re going to take her off as soon as I’ve finished what I have to do ashore. So we’ll make a start by having the boilers flashed up. As soon as it’s dusk, Sub, get the bamboos out and sound round the ship. We’ll also have the bows lightened. Everything that can be moved aft’s to be moved. But it’s to be done after dark so those buggers ashore suspect nothing. I also want the anchor cables prepared so we can slip ’em in a hurry if we need to lighten the bows further at the last minute. How about drinking water?’

‘Going down, sir.’

‘Ration it. A pint a day per man. How does that sound?’

Dover grinned. ‘We’ll arrive home ponging a bit, sir.’