The Dangerous Years (25 page)

‘Half ahead both. Steady on that light on the hill, Quartermaster. See it?’

Another flare rose into the sky, illuminating the gunboat and her bulky companion, and a machine gun started to fire from the shore. The bullets clattered against
Swei-Fan’
s bows.

‘This is a nasty bit,’ Gregory said. ‘This is where the batteries are.’

‘Tell everybody to keep their heads down, Sub,’ Kelly ordered. ‘Then go below and make sure the passengers are lying down.’

There was an acid-white flash from one of the hills and a six-inch shell screamed overhead to explode in the river beyond them. In a flare of flame, a second hit the passenger ship they’d just passed. Immediately every gun ashore, mistaking her for
Spider
, opened up on her so that the night seemed to be full of orange flashes and the swift flow of red tracer.

‘How much longer, Sub, before we’re clear?’

‘Few minutes, sir. No more. There’s another bend.’

‘Same way?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Good. Same tactics. Let
Swei-Fan
take us round.’

As Kelly spoke there was a crash astern and a flash that lit their faces. Yells and women’s screams came from below where the missionaries and their families were cowering.

‘Find out what’s happened, Sub!’

Gregory reappeared two minutes later. He was grinning. ‘I think we’ve lost the kedges, sir.’

‘Both of ’em?’

‘It hit the winch, sir. It parted the hawsers and they’ve both gone.’

‘No injuries?’

‘None, sir. Though we have one man with a nasty cut from a sword. The doc’s got him. We’re probably clear now.’

‘Right, I think I’ll take a look round
Swei-Fan
now and sort out Mrs Bloody Withinshawe before she starts laying a complaint against me to the Admiralty. Come on, Mr Watercorn.’

They found half a dozen Chinese soldiers in the freighter’s saloon just recovering from a drunken stupor. They were surrounded by bottles and the place stank of human excrement.

‘Have ’em over the side,’ Kelly said.

Reaching the passenger cabins, he began kicking on the doors until he heard a voice inside. Kicking the door open, he found himself facing a man standing by a table with a bulbous-looking blonde who looked as if she’d been poured into her dress and left to set. An amah huddled in a corner clutching a small boy.

As she saw Kelly’s blood-soaked whites, the woman gasped. ‘Oh, God,’ she said.

‘We’re not the Kuomintang,’ Kelly announced. ‘We’re the Navy. Are you Mrs Withinshawe?’

No,’ a cold voice behind him said. ‘I’m Mrs Withinshawe. That’s George and Agnes Rowntree. Who’re you?’

As he turned, he saw another woman standing behind the door. She was in her middle twenties, a tall slender woman with dark hair and brilliant green eyes. Despite the dirt on her face and the fact that her hair was awry, it was clear she was a beauty.

‘Lieutenant-Commander Maguire, Madam,’ he introduced himself. ‘I’ve come to take you off.’

Christina Withinshawe stepped forward, proud, erect and contemptuous.

‘You’ve been a long time,’ she said.

Kelly smiled, indifferent in the success of the venture to her annoyance. ‘We’ve been rather occupied,’ he pointed out.

He felt it was the sort of casual indifference people liked to hear from the Navy, but she seemed unimpressed.

‘I thought you’d never come. They raped me, did you know? They stripped me naked and raped me.’

Kelly’s smile died and, for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. What
did
you say to a woman who’d been violated?

‘In front of my own husband and son. They murdered my husband. They shot him.’

‘I thought he’d been–’

‘They shot him,’ she insisted. Despite her fury, he was aware that her eyes were sizing him up. She seemed remarkably in control of herself for a woman who’d recently been assaulted by Chinese soldiers and he decided she was lying to impress him.

‘How long before we shall be in Shanghai?’ The words were less a question than a command to get moving.

Kelly felt he had her measure now. ‘That depends on the Senior Naval Officer,’ he said.

‘I’ll have you know I’m Lord Clemo’s daughter and I don’t wait for some piffling individual with gold rings on his sleeve to decide when
I
can go home.’

‘I think this time you’ll have to,’ Kelly retorted. ‘And now, since we have things to do, we’d better move you and your belongings over to
Spider
until we’ve cleaned this tip up.’

He reached for a fur coat that lay on the bunk to help her, but she immediately rounded on him.

‘You keep your damned paws off my clothes,’ she snapped. ‘God knows where you’ll have them next. I know sailors. More than one of them’s eyed me as if he’d like to throw me across my own bed.’

In
Spider
’s wardroom, the missionaries and their children seemed to be having a prayer meeting, breathing heavily and uttering occasional loud ‘Hallelujahs’, their fervour darkening the deep red of MacIntyre’s face. Her head erect, unmoved and remarkably unemotional for a woman who claimed to have just suffered rape, Christina Withinshawe stared coldly at them, her nose in the air.

‘Who
are
these people?’ she said.

‘Refugees, like yourself,’ Kelly explained.

‘Surely I don’t have to share the place with
them
. Is there nothing else?’

‘There’s the first lieutenant’s quarters.’

She peered into Gregory’s cabin and sniffed. ‘Is this the biggest there is?’

‘The captain’s is bigger.’

‘Why can’t I have that?’

‘Because,’ Kelly said, ‘it’s become a nursery for the babies and their mothers.’

‘You have a sick bay or something don’t you? Why can’t I have that?’

‘Because there are four wounded men in there.’ Kelly’s helpful expression had vanished. ‘Five now. They were hurt coming to your rescue. There are also three dead in the tiller flat – to say nothing of around a couple of dozen Chinese we had to kill.’

Leaving her sitting disgustedly in Gregory’s cabin, Kelly hurried to the bridge. The darkness was giving way by now to the misty greyness of dawn. They were well out of danger by this time except for stray batteries along the shore, which persisted in dropping shells in their wake. Then, round a corner of the river in the growing light, moving up from Nanking, they saw the grey shape of a destroyer. The forward gun cracked and they saw a puff of dust on the hillside near a particularly troublesome field piece, and a scurrying of ant-like figures up the slope.

‘I think, sir,’ Rumbelo observed, ‘that it’s
Wanderer
.’

‘Destroyer signalling, sir,’ the yeoman of signals yelled out. ‘She says “Fancy meeting you,” sir.’

I suppose we ought to reply with something clever and fitting,’ Kelly said. ‘Make it “The pleasure’s all mine.”’

By the following day they were well clear of Wu-Pi and, though Christina Withinshawe’s attitude to the missionaries remained barely civil, with Kelly it took a marked turn for the better.

‘Afraid I put up a few blacks last night,’ she apologised brusquely. ‘I’m sorry.’

She produced a small pistol. ‘I was just getting ready to use this when you arrived,’ she went on. ‘I don’t suppose it would have stopped a charging buffalo but it might have made a coolie yell a bit if I’d hit him in the family jewels.’

Her bluntness made Kelly grin. During the trip down-river, he’d noticed she had never been far from his side as he moved about the ship, surprisingly informative about the currents and clearly no fool. Then she followed her first climbdown with another. ‘It might interest you, Commander,’ she said, ‘to know that you look a lot better now you’ve wiped all that blood off your face. And I also have to admit on second thoughts that your accommodation is better than it seemed. If I’d known I might have left before. My husband was all in favour.’

Kelly studied her. ‘What
about
your husband, Mrs Withinshawe?’ he asked.

‘What about him? He was properly buried. I’ve no doubt it wasn’t Anglican rites and probably his ancestors are spinning in their graves because the gardener burned joss over him. But I’m not sentimental about death.’

‘What about his family?’

‘He gave them up when he married me. My father fixed it. I never met them.’

‘Seems a funny way of being married.’

‘It
was
a funny way of being married, In fact, I’m damned if I know how he ever managed to make me pregnant.’

She stared with interest at the missionaries who were kneeling in groups near the forward gun, gazing at them as if they were some strange breed of zoo animal. ‘Do they always go on like this?’ she asked.

‘I believe so Mrs Withinshawe.’

‘Oh, for goodness sake, call me Christina! I’m not a missionary and neither are you. Under normal circumstances we might well be at the same cocktail party. You must forgive me for last night. I was a little distraught. I was worried for my son. He’s only seven.’

‘I see.’ So far Kelly hadn’t seen her show the child the slightest sign of interest.

I’ve been talking to your sergeant.’

‘Petty officer, Mrs Withinshawe.’

‘Christina.’

‘Very well: Christina.’

‘He has a great admiration for you. He tells me you’re a very brave man.’

‘Perhaps he knows something about it. He’s pretty brave, too.’

‘He says you’ve been decorated several times. During the war and since.’

He began to see the reason for her new interest. She’d probably never come into close contact with a naval man before in the narrow business circle she and her husband had inhabited and it was a new experience.

‘You seem to be very much the strong silent type, Commander.’

‘It’s a strong silent service, Mrs Withinshawe.’

‘How are we getting downstream?’

‘At Nanking we shall transfer you to a passenger ship where there’ll be more comfort. Probably
Swei-Fan
herself if she’s not needed.’

She gazed at him and he decided she had the greenest eyes he’d ever seen, bright and enigmatic like a cat’s.

‘Aren’t you married, Commander?’ she asked.

‘No.’

‘Surely somebody’s got their eye on you.’

He thought for a moment of Charley. She’d have arrived in Shanghai by now and would probably be jumping into bed with Kimister. ‘No,’ he said. ‘No one.’

She stared at him, bold and calculating. ‘I think somebody slipped up badly. You haven’t any strange habits, have you? One hears odd things about sailors.’

The sheer effrontery of it made him laugh. ‘No, by God,’ he said. ‘Nothing like that.’

‘Then I can’t understand why you’re not married.’

He stared back at her, finding to his surprise that he was enjoying himself. ‘Couldn’t ever afford it, Mrs Withinshawe.’

‘Christina.’ She was determined to get him on to first name terms. ‘You should find yourself an heiress. It’s done in all the best circles.’

With
Swei-Fan
manned by a scratch crew from
Spider
and
Wanderer
bringing up the rear, they progressed slowly downstream.
Spider
was still crowded and Christina Withinshawe clearly detested both MacIntyre and his mousy little wife and thoroughly enjoyed playing for them the role of a French aristocrat who’d just escaped the guillotine. Kelly watched with amusement as she pressed drinks on them from an enormous flask so that MacIntyre, who’d fawned round her from the minute he’d become aware of her title, found it hard to refuse. Oh, you bitch, you wicked mischievous bitch, he thought as he watched her deliberately forcing them to break their own rigid code. Somehow, she reminded him of Verschoyle – arrogant, indifferent to others, coolly certain of herself and her background.

As they dropped anchor at Nanking, the Senior Naval Officer stepped aboard.

‘You’re to continue on down to Shanghai,’ he said. ‘The Admiral wants you back and
Spider
needs a new captain.
Cockchafer
’s relieving you.’

‘And the people on board, sir?’

‘You’d better keep them with you as far as Chinkiang. There’s a passenger ship there clearing what’s left of the Europeans because the bloody Nationalists are kicking up trouble again. We’ll take over
Swei-Fan
and supply you with extra blankets, palliasses and stores for your passengers. Can you handle ’em?’

‘Most of ’em, sir,’ Kelly said, thinking of Christina Withinshawe.

Now that they were safe, the rival sects of missionaries, camped out on the afterdeck on strips of coconut matting, were jealously keeping themselves to themselves and trying to entice the crew to their meetings. MacIntyre, his pale eyes wild, his thin hair on end, approached Kelly.

‘We would like tae hold a service o’ thanksgiving tae the Lord for our safety,’ he said.

‘There’s nothing to stop you,’ Kelly pointed out, thinking that the Lord hadn’t had half as much to do with their safety as the crew of
Spider
.

‘We would like your men tae be present.’

‘I think they’d prefer to make up their own minds, Mr MacIntyre. You have my permission to inform them that there’ll be a service and to let them know what denomination it’ll be. Any man of that denomination who wishes to attend and who is not on duty will be free to do so if he wishes. You will
not
be allowed to canvas them and you will
not
be allowed to preach at them unless they ask you to. The Navy looks after its own religious affairs.’

‘You’re preventing us doin’ the work o’ God!’

‘You may do the work of God any way you wish, Mr MacIntyre, but you will
not
harass my sailors.’

‘You’re being gey obstructive, I think, and I can complain tae your admiral, y’know.’

Kelly smiled. ‘And I, Mr MacIntyre,’ he pointed out, ‘can put you in jug if I feel it necessary. I have the authority in this ship.’

As MacIntyre vanished, grumbling, Kelly saw the Withinshawe child on the afterdeck with the other children, sitting on a swing rigged up by the crew. His mother was in her cabin, with the door open as if she were waiting for Kelly to appear. She had contrived to do her hair and apply make-up.