We Saw The Sea (21 page)

“Jenny knows the Navy List backwards,” Colin Stacforth said proudly.

“Yes, I can see that,” Michael said.

“Are there many of the term here today?”

“There’s quite a good turn out. Of course it’s quite an occasion when a bachelor as hardened as old Paul gets married. Everyone comes to see what the girl’s like who’s pulled it off. I don’t see Raymond Ball anywhere. I know he had an invitation.”

“I don’t expect he feels much like celebrating,” said Jenny. “Haven’t you heard?”

“Haven’t I heard what?”

“He had a row with the C.O. of his submarine and got thrown out of submarines.”

“His C.O. had a reputation for being difficult to live with. He’d been a submarine C.O. for ten years. Had about nine years in as a lieutenant-commander. Passed over a year ago in December. Colin, darling, there’s Richard Gilpin. We must go and say hullo. He was on the Staff Course with Daddy,” Jenny added to Michael.

Michael watched them go. There, he thought, goes a typical naval officer and his typical wife. He noted Jenny’s complete change of manner as she talked to the Captain. There seemed to be an appropriate Jenny for every occasion, a “young wife, eager, naïve but backing her husband to the hilt, Jenny” for Colin’s superiors and a “nice girl, what’s your poison, say when, have you heard, Jenny” for Colin’s contemporaries. Most probably there was a third “seniors into the boat last and out first, Jenny” for Colin’s juniors. Michael imagined them both in twenty years’ time, when Colin would be a Captain and Jenny would be ruling the wives’ roost with a rod of iron and four gold stripes on her handbag. The picture depressed Michael.

Michael saw Tom Bowles standing on the edge of the crowd. Although Michael had not seen Tom Bowles for some years he had heard all about him. The Golden Boy of the Training Cruiser had developed into the bright star of the present generation. Tom Bowles passed out top of his pilot’s training course, distinguished himself in two squadrons, and had been chosen to fly at the Farnborough Air Show. Leader of the Fleet Air Arm aerobatics team, graduate of the Empire Test Pilot school, favourite of the press, he was quickly becoming one of the best-known officers in the Navy. He had grown a blond beard since Michael had last seen him and, as he stood head and shoulders above the crowd, he reminded Michael of a young Viking.

“
Hello
, Mike,” Tom said. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Hello Tom, how are you getting on these days?”

Tom Bowles grinned. “Well, I’m not very popular with Their Lordships at the moment. I crashed the prototype of that new night-fighter last week. So now I’ve got a draft chit to Dartmouth. As a divisional officer. Imagine me as a
'sir’
teaching all the trogs!”

“So help me God!” said Mrs Vincent who had appeared at Michael’s elbow. “It’s the first time I’ve seen Paul in his uniform at home and it will probably be the last. Who are all these dreadful people? I’m sure I don’t know them and I can’t imagine the other team knowing them. They must be some of Cedric’s friends gate-crashing. I met an incredible little man masquerading in your uniform just now who said he was a
Double Bottoms
Officer! That’s vintage Cedric Friend! Michael, I came to tell you, Paul thinks it’s time we started to make speeches and read telegrams and things.”

The Maconochie telegrams were traditional. “Best Wishes For Your Future Happiness, Auntie Florence and Uncle Samuel”; “May Good Luck Follow You Through Your Life Together, Cousin Edie and Boxer”; “May All Your Days Be Happy Ones, Auntie Ruth.”
Carousel
’s telegrams were also traditional, in their way. “May All Your Troubles Be Little Ones, P.M.O.”; “Best of Luck Dynasty-wise, Cedric”; “Every Conceivable Happiness, Pilot”; “Fight The Good Fight, The Bodger”; “Best Of Luck In Your New Commission, The Wardroom Officers”; and from Commander (E), the Senior Engineer, and the Engineer’s Office, “Your Attention is Drawn to B.R. Sixteen brackets Fifty close Brackets Engineering Manual Precautions Before Opening Unventilated Compartments.”

Michael’s speech followed. Michael had prepared a careful speech with several witty jokes and comments. Lying in bed the night before the wedding Michael had run over his speech in his mind and had thought it uncommonly funny. But when he came to speak, Michael could not remember a word of it.

“I’m not really sure what the best man ought to say,” he said. “It’s no good giving the bridegroom any advice. It’s too late. He’s already made the fatal mistake I All I can really do is direct his attention to the B.R. mentioned in the telegram, particularly where it says that all officers and ratings and other persons concerned are to make themselves familiar with the precautions, and advancement of engine-room personnel will be made conditional on their possessing a good working knowledge. . .”

Michael went on to congratulate the bridesmaids on their turn-out and to propose a toast to them. Michael’s speech went surprisingly well although, as he reflected, a best man had the most tolerant and well-disposed audience of anyone in the world except a bridegroom.

Paul was almost completely tongue-tied. He restricted himself to thanking his mother for bringing him up, his fellow officers for keeping sober, at least until the wedding was over, and his bride for consenting and turning up to marry him. Then Paul stopped and blushed. For the first time Michael understood that the old Paul with whom he had joined the Navy and with whom he had enjoyed so many happy times had now gone for ever. The thought crossed Michael’s mind that he might try it himself; he looked round for Mary.

“Here I am. Cheer up, Michael,” said Mary. “Anyone would think you were getting married, you look so doleful.

I thought you were going to ignore me.”

“I’m terribly sorry, honestly. I’ve been quite busy.”

“I thought your speech was jolly good.”

“Did you really?”

“Yes, did you have it all rehearsed?”

“Oh yes, I knew exactly what I was going to say.”

“You liar, Michael.” Mary grinned. “I bet when you got up you hadn’t the vaguest idea what you were going to say.”

“Of course I
did
! Not perhaps in so many
words
, but....” Mary laughed. “Never mind, it was a jolly good speech.”

“When would you like me to pick you up tonight?”

“Michael, you haven’t changed a bit!”

“What do you mean?”

“You change the subject so quickly. I always used to find it difficult to keep up with you. One moment you’d be saying something wonderful to me and the next you’d be talking about the car. And the other way round.”

“Well, we mustn’t get in a groove.”

“No, but you were so sudden.”

“Right. We’ll see Paul and Anne off and I’ll go and change and pick you up at six o’clock. How's that?”

“That would be lovely, Michael.”

Before he went, Michael said good-bye to The Bodger. “Well, young Hobbes,” said The Bodger breezily (he had met a good many old friends at the wedding). “Got your next appointment?”

“No, sir. I thought of going to see Commander Leanover next week.”

“Good God, don’t do that! He’ll write things down on bits of paper and get ’em all mixed up and you’ll find yourself in the one job you didn’t want. Go and see Gwladys, his secretary. She runs the department. It’s Gwladys who does all the officers’ appointments in the Navy. Go and see her.”

“Do you know where you’re going, sir?”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m retiring. Don’t look so surprised. I’ve been thinking of it for some time. I’ve been thinking of retiring from the Navy ever since I joined but of course I never meant it. But I do now.”

“What are you going to do outside, sir?”

“No idea. Something will turn up, I’ve no doubt. What I would really like to do would be a gamekeeper or a factor for somebody.”

Michael tried to imagine The Bodger in leggings, carrying a gun under his arm and chasing after poachers, but he found it impossible. His imagination could not encompass it.

“I’m very sorry you’re leaving the Navy, sir,” he said.

“Oh, I’ve had a good run. I would do it again if I had the chance. But the Navy’s changed radically since I joined. There’s probably a future in it for the people joining it now, but for those of us who knew it years ago it’s changed out of all recognition. We haven’t got enough fanatics in the Navy now. People who don’t give a damn about brass hats or pensions or married quarters or anything else, who just do it for the sheer love of it. Most of the people who joined with me would still have done it for half the money. Of course, most of them could afford to. Nowadays we’re getting people who’ve chosen the Navy when they might have chosen banking or stock-broking or
local government
, whatever that may be. That’s not the right way to approach it. There are very few of my term left now. Those who weren’t killed in the war are, ironically enough, banking or stock-broking. Still, enough of all that. I’ll just go and seize Jerry Leanover before he climbs down the front of my wife’s dress and we’ll shout Hallelujah at young Vincent from the top of the stairs.”

It was a perfect time to be back in London. The whole city breathed of spring. The parks were pale green, the plane trees in bud, dogs gambolled, there was tennis in the evenings, and damp tables outside the small restaurants in Chelsea and Notting Hill Gate.

Michael drew in a deep breath. He was experiencing one of life’s supreme pleasures, that of walking, bathed, shaved and wearing a black tie, along a quiet street on a cool spring evening with a girl in an evening dress on his arm.

“Oh boy, oh boy!” Michael jogged up and down. He leaped into the air, executed a makeshift
entrechat
before he landed. He was still wearing the glow of Maconochie champagne. “I feel good. Where shall we go tonight?”

“How about Toni’s?”

Michael whistled. “O.K. Let’s go all nostalgic. We’ll have minestrone, spaghetti, Chianti and pretend we’re just married. ... I mean, just starting out on our affair.” Toni’s was still the same. Toni himself pretended to recognize them and gave Mary a rose, as he had done on their first visit. He gave all the other couples roses too, as he had been doing for more than twenty years. The couples sat gazing at each other, all wearing the unmistakable aura of awakening, wondering, first love. Michael thought them a touching sight; he observed them sardonically, as an experienced performer looks upon the first efforts of beginners.

Michael finished the first bottle and ordered another (to Toni’s surprise; most of his customers were as new to wine as they were to love and treated them both gingerly, as though they were explosive). It was one of Michael’s rare evenings, when his head grew clearer as he drank, when thoughts of great philosophical significance filled his mind, and when nothing in the world seemed impossible.

“You
have
changed, Michael,” Mary said.

“In what way?”

“I think the Navy’s done something for you.”

“Done something to me, you mean.”

“You’ve got more poise now. Is that the right word? Do boys have poise?”

“I’ve got more
money
now, if that’s what you mean.”

“Michael, do be serious. I mean you’re more confident. Much more. I thought your speech today was jolly good. I couldn’t imagine you doing that before you went away. You were a bit dull. But now. . . .”

“Now what? Do go on. If there’s one subject I can go on discussing for hours it’s me.”

“That’s what I mean. Before you went away you wouldn’t have said that. You seem to have expanded and got tougher.”

“I had to, my dear.
Carousel
was only two steps removed from the jungle. You know, when I look back on myself a few years ago I think, cor blimey, what a bloody idiot you were then. And then I think, never mind, you’re not such a bloody idiot now. And yet I wouldn’t be surprised if in a few years I look back on myself now and see that I’m still a bloody idiot. What was that place you were talking about? I suppose I ought to feel guilty at not taking the bridesmaids out but I don’t. Come on, let’s hit the trail.” Mary laughed as she bent down to pick up her handbag. “What’s up now?”

“You remember what I said about changing the subject.”

“Oh, very well.”

“Haven’t I been here before?”

“Yes. It was the place you said George Dewberry recommended. It’s under new management now and terribly fashionable. Debs get their names in the papers here. My dear, everybody goes here.”

“Does it matter that I’m not a member?”

“No. We’ve got to pay ten bob each to get in anyway.”

“
Have
we?”

“Oh dear, is that too much, Michael?”

“Too much! You’re speaking to someone who’s loaded for bear. I’m a mean hound dog and tonight’s my night to howl.”

Michael put his finger to his mouth and whooped. “Michael, please, just say you’re in the Navy. The manager’s got quite a soft spot for naval officers.”

“Golly, that’s unusual! Normally you say you’re in the Navy and they start calling up the bouncers right away. The mere mention of the initials ‘R.N.’ puts ten per cent on everything, drinks, car insurance, magistrates’ fines, the lot.” The club had been redecorated and renamed “The Capricorn Light”. The photographs on the walls had been replaced by heavy curtains. The floor was now carpeted and the room was lit by small shaded sconces. A bright bar occupied one corner. The dance floor was its original size but the band platform was empty except for a tubby little man absent-mindedly rippling his fingers over the piano keyboard. The whole room had the subtle but perceptible atmosphere of sophisticated patronage. This was plainly where the very best people got drunk.

The clientele showed more clearly than anything else the change in the club’s fortunes. Pony tails and jeans had given way to evening dress, though it was still early and most of the tables were unoccupied.

“Nobody’s here yet,” Mary said.

Michael looked round. All the men he could see were obviously naval officers.

“Nothing but riff-raff,” he agreed. “You pop off now and ditch your coat and do your face and I’ll get a table.”

The Manager himself came forward. Michael recognized him immediately. It was someone he had not seen since he was a cadet. It was Mr Sammidge, the Commissioned Catering Officer in
Barsetshire
.