First Friends (13 page)

She was manoeuvred into the Wardroom, designed to hold six officers in minimal comfort and now packed with at least twenty people, and was hailed by Tony Whelan who presently fought his way to her side bearing a gin and tonic in either hand. He passed one to her and hugged her with his free arm. She hugged him back, perfectly able to understand the attraction he held for Cass. He had an easy charm and a ready sense of humour and the knack of making a woman feel fatally attractive. Kate, who considered this to be a perfectly admirable trait, enjoyed it to the full whilst knowing that it meant nothing. She parried his advances, laughed at his jokes and went to dance with him in the crowded control room, circling the periscope in his intimate embrace and ignoring Mark's displeased face. Mark hated dancing and, although he rarely danced with Kate, rather resented anyone else who did. They circled the periscope yet again and Kate, beginning to suspect that Tony had at least six hands, caught sight of Mark, watching her now with something like distaste.

She remembered that during the time she had left to her before the boat sailed she was still hoping to convert Mark to the idea of another baby and reluctantly pushed Tony away.

‘Come on, octopus,' she said. ‘Let's go and find something to eat.'

When the boat sailed, Kate took Mark into
Dolphin
, wondering why submarines always went to Harbour Stations at seven in the morning, hugged him goodbye and drove away. He discouraged her from waiting to see the boat sail although some wives went into
Dolphin
's Wardroom and out on to the balcony to wave the boat past as it went down the river to the channel. Sometimes, if the weather was fine, Kate would take the twins to the beach and they would watch from there until the black hull was no longer visible. Today, since it was raining and Mark would not know—or care—if they were there or not, Kate drove straight home and put the kettle on. Strange how the smell of diesel seemed to cling. It was a smell that all through her life would instantly remind her of submarines, brown canvas holdalls, starched white collars just back from the laundry in cardboard boxes, windy dockyards and the poignant sense of waiting. Always waiting.
Waiting for the boat to come in. Waiting for the leave to start. Waiting for the shore job.

A
S
K
ATE WAS FINISHING
the washing up after lunch a tiny plan formed in her mind. Perhaps she would take a trip to Cornwall to see her family and, on the way, she would stop off to see the General. Tom's boat would be sailing soon so Cass might like to come too. It would be such fun to go together, just for a week or two. Her heart lifted at the thought and she went to the telephone and dialled Cass's number. It rang for some time and she was about to hang up when there was a click and Cass's voice said: ‘Hello.' At the same time a man's voice could be heard clearly in the background.

‘Hello, Cass,' said Kate. ‘Is that Tom I can hear? I thought he had to go to London today. Is he OK?'

‘Can I call you back?' Cass sounded as if she were trying not to laugh. ‘Bit of a crisis. I'll speak to you later.'

There was a click as the receiver was replaced. Kate stood puzzled, thinking hard. Giles started calling to her from the landing and she put the receiver back on its rest and started to climb the stairs. It was only later that she realised that she had recognised the man's voice. It was George Lampeter's.

W
HEN IT SEEMED THAT
both Tom and Mark were going to be at home for Christmas, it was agreed between parents and grandparents that the children would be happier in their own homes and the trip to the West Country became a compromise between a little holiday and a pre-Christmas visit.

The girls decided to travel together in Kate's car, Charlotte squashed between the twins' seats and Oliver in his carrycot on the seat by their feet. They were all very uncomfortable but immensely excited and took it in good part. It was arranged that the twins should take turn and turn about with Charlotte and that regular stops should be made for leg stretching and refreshment.

‘Thank God Mark's father insisted on an estate car,' said Kate as
they packed their luggage as well as Christmas presents and a picnic into the back. ‘If the kids get too uncomfortable with Oliver crammed in front of them, we'll put his carrycot in here.'

They set off in good spirits but it was well into the afternoon when Kate turned on to the Moretonhampstead road out of Exeter. As it began to climb up to the moor she felt her spirits climbing with it. It was a quiet day, warm for December, and the clouds moved lazily before the wind that blew gently from the south-west. Today the moor was a study in pastels: chalky browns for the bleached grasses and dying bracken, soft charcoal grey for the granite tors smudged against creamy slow-moving clouds, the hills, unfolding mistily into the distance, a soft muted blue. Kate pulled off the road, released the children who ran to look at the little stream, and stood gazing about her. Cass brought her a mug of coffee, the last of the picnic.

‘Glad to be back?' she asked.

‘Home,' amended Kate. ‘I feel as if I've come home. I can't imagine how I ever managed to leave it.'

The General and Mrs Hampton underlined this feeling. They hurried out to greet the travellers, exclaiming over how much the children had grown and hugging the two girls. Mrs Hampton crooned admiringly over Oliver, who took all such tributes in his stride, and hurried off with him, Charlotte beside her.

‘Just like dear old Nanny,' said Cass, stretching mightily and slipping her arm through her father's. ‘You're looking terrific, Daddy. Younger than ever. Are you going to be able to squeeze us all in?'

‘It certainly is going to be a squeeze,' he agreed, ‘but the more the merrier. You two are in the bigger bedroom with the cot, and the boys and Charlotte are in the little one. In the end I decided to buy some bunk beds. Two sets. If you go on like this, I'll be needing them and it saves space.'

‘The twins will be out of their heads with joy,' said Kate, taking his other arm. ‘Their one ambition is to sleep in bunk beds. Let's go and show them.'

‘First things first.' The General was unable to contain his excitement.
‘Get the children together. I've got something to show them in the drawing room.'

They all trooped in and stopped short with little cries of pleasure. In one corner, to the right of a blazing log fire, stood a Christmas tree, its coloured lights twinkling softly. The baubles and decorations shimmered and flashed in the firelight as they swung and beneath the tree was a pile of brightly wrapped mysterious looking parcels.

The children, who were too young to remember previous Christmases, were rendered quite speechless as they gazed with wondering eyes upon the magic of it and the General, watching their faces with delight, was amply rewarded for all his efforts.

Kate found that she was clutching his hand and when she looked across at Cass she saw tears in her eyes.

‘I thought that we'd celebrate early, my darlings,' he was saying. ‘After all, the Queen has two birthdays, why not the Christ Child?'

Mrs Hampton, carrying Oliver and holding Charlotte's hand, nodded. ‘ 'Tis right pretty,' she said, her eyes bright. ‘We got mince pies made, too, an' a cake an' a sizeable old chicken in the fridge. ‘Twas too early to get a turkey but ‘e'll do us. Now, what about some tea?' She bore the reluctant children away to be cleaned up.

‘It's absolutely perfect,' said Cass.

‘Did you see their faces?' Kate smiled. ‘They'll never forget that as long as they live. Neither shall I.'

The General looked pleased. ‘It went down very well,' he agreed. ‘Now, all that we need to do is to choose which day to have as our own private Christmas. We may want to wait until Kate and the twins come back from Cornwall. Meanwhile, what about that unpacking? Come and see what we've done upstairs and then we can all relax.'

‘I
T
'
S FUNNY
,'
SAID
K
ATE
, as they drove home again a week later. ‘I find it harder to say goodbye to your father than I do to Mark! And I always hate leaving Devon.'

‘Perhaps Mark'll get another boat down here,' suggested Cass,
deciding to ignore the first half of the remark. ‘You never know your luck.'

But when the time came and they were appointed as First Lieutenants, it was Tom who was given a boat running out of Devonport, while Mark was sent to Faslane, the submarine base built at the head of the Gare Loch on the west coast of Scotland.

Both Tom and Mark were recommended out of their First Lieutenants' jobs for Perisher: the submariners' Commanding Officers Qualifying Course. They were both exultant—and terrified. The Perisher lasted overall for about six months and now, with Mark's appointment to Faslane coming to an end, the question of where to live arose. Once an officer had passed the course, he was given a submarine to drive and no one could possibly guess which of the three bases that submarine might be running from.

Kate had enjoyed Scotland, revelling in the wild, beautiful country north of the small town of Helensburgh which stood at the end of the Gare Loch. Mark had been at sea for most of the two years and she and the twins had explored the country together and had been made to feel at home in the base which looked out over the loch to the mountains beyond. Nevertheless, she was very glad to be back in the West Country and delighted and relieved that Mark had succeeded thus far. Her suggestion was that they move to Alverstoke so that she would be able to give him some moral support for the first part of the course. The Attack Teacher was at the Submarine School at
Dolphin
. Mark wasn't so keen.

‘I shall be revising like mad to begin with and in the Attack Teacher most days. Then I shall be here at Faslane for the periscope time. It would probably be more sensible if I get a cabin in
Dolphin
. I can concentrate better on my own. No distractions. If I pass, I could get a boat anywhere. Couldn't you go down to Cornwall for a bit?'

The Attack Teacher was a simulated submarine control room where the Perishers practised attacks of all types before spending six weeks on a conventional submarine doing it for real with an obliging frigate.

It was during these six weeks that tempers frayed and people tended to crack up. If an officer failed, it was generally during this period. They would be tactfully taken aside, informed that they had failed and taken quietly off the submarine without the others knowing.

Kate, knowing how Mark would react to failure, prayed fervently that he would pass. Meanwhile, where would she and the twins go since he didn't want them at Alverstoke? After all, they had to live somewhere.

When Mark left the boat at Faslane, he was given a fortnight's leave and they went down to Cornwall. While Mark was out sailing with her brother Chris, Kate told her mother the problem.

‘He doesn't really want us in Alverstoke,' she said, as they stood together chopping vegetables and preparing the dinner, ‘and I can understand that. This is vitally important to him: his whole naval life has been leading up to this and if he fails, his career in submarines will be finished. That's why it's called Perisher—so many do! It seems so unfair that they just get sent back to general service as failures, especially as you have to be exceptional to be recommended for Perisher in the first place. I think it's very important that he plays it his way and it's not easy to study and revise in a small house with two active children. The trouble is, wherever I go, you can be sure that Mark will be posted somewhere else if he passes. I shan't be allowed a married quarter if Mark's not there and I'm not sure that I'll be able to rent anywhere for just six months. And I've got to get the twins back into school. They were just nicely settled in Helensburgh. It would be awful to put them somewhere for six months and then move them on again.'