Maddon's Rock (11 page)

I suppose I had been pacing the room a long time when Bert said, “Fer Gawd’s sake, why don’t yer sit da’n, mate? Ain’t no use worryin’.” And then on a sudden note of anger: “These guardrooms—they give me the willies. If we was civvies na’, they’d allow us out on bail—then we could at least dra’n our sorrows in a drop of the ol’ pig’s ear.”

I sat down then. I felt depressed and utterly wretched. “I can’t forgive myself for getting you into this mess, Bert,” I said.

He suddenly grinned. “Come on, nark it,” he said. “If you ’adn’t done wot yer did, I’d’ve got into that boat. An’ where should I ’ave bin na’—feedin’ the little fishes, that’s where, like poor little Sills. D’yer reck’n the planks was loose in both the boats, Jim?”

I shrugged my shoulders. Speculation seemed so hopeless now. “I don’t know,” I replied. “I don’t know what
to think. One thing I’m certain of now—that is that the planks were loose in the one we examined. Remember? It was Sills who discovered it. Then he did what he was told and got into the boat—poor devil!” I remembered his pinched, frightened little face as he sat there in the bows. I remembered the cat clawing free of the cook and jumping on to the deck. Had the cat known what was going to happen?” If only that second officer, Cousins, had stood by the raft after we had cut it into the water.” I was thinking aloud—going over in my mind all the circumstances as I had been doing all that morning. “Some of them might have been saved then. I suppose they couldn’t see it. It was dark as pitch.” I looked across at Bert. “What I don’t understand,” I said, “is why the Captain didn’t want that raft cleared. I suppose I shouldn’t have insisted. It was his responsibility. I just acted on the spur of the moment. But I don’t understand that. Rankin had reported to the bridge. He must have told Halsey the reason we wouldn’t get into the boat. Yet he ordered Hendrik to stop us cutting the raft clear.”

“Mebbe he wanted the boats to sink,” Bert said. He said it casually—not jokingly, but without thinking. His words echoed my thoughts. For an instant I think I actually believed that that was the truth of it. Then my thoughts came down to earth. It wasn’t possible. It just wasn’t possible. What had he to gain anyway? The
Trikkala
was sunk.

At that moment the sergeant of the guard came in. “Here you are,” he said. “Letter for each of you. Registered one for you, Corporal.” He held out a book for me to sign.

“Blimey!” said Bert. “A letter from me ol’ trouble. Thanks, Sarge.”

I put the registered envelope down on the scrubbed deal table top. The neat linen paper with the blue lines of its registration was as impersonal as a legal document. I did not need to open it. I knew what would be inside. The address was in Betty’s neat, precise writing. I sat there, staring at it in dumb misery.

Bert had opened his letter. “Gosh!” he said. “Listen to the Ol’ Woman! This is wot she says: “Just like you, Bert, ter get yerself in trouble when yer doo for a munf’s leave an’ I was reckoning on you ter do the washing up an’ look after the kids. However, as you says, better alive an’ in trouble than at the bottom of the sea like that other poor fellow. Though I don’t know wot the neighbours will fink.’” He looked up angrily. “Who on earth cares wot the neighbours fink?” he cried. “That’s the trouble wiv the Ol’ Woman—always worry in’ wot the stupid neighbours fink.”

I had opened the envelope now. The little platinum circle with the rubies and diamonds had rolled out on to the table. It lay there, glittering brightly, accusingly. I read the letter and then tore it up. I couldn’t blame her.

“Wot’s that you got there!” Bert asked suddenly. “Blimey! A ring! Does that mean yer girl’s bin an’ thrown you over on account o’ this?”

I nodded. “It was her father; made her do it,” I said. I wasn’t angry. Just wretchedly depressed. “Remember, I told you it was her idea that I went for a commission? Well—instead of going for a commission, I’m under arrest. Her family is Regular Army. To her, it’s as bad as if I’d been jailed as a common thief.”

“But strewf!” Bert exclaimed. “She don’t know whether you’re guilty or not yet. She don’t know the circumstances.”

“Oh, yes she does,” I replied. “Look at it from her point of view. Her family’s friends are all retired Service people. It was bad enough when she had to admit to being engaged to a corporal. This places her in an impossible position.” He didn’t say a word and I just sat, staring down at the ring, wondering what to do with it. “Wish I had a girl that wrote to me like your missis does, Bert.” I hesitated. A sense of desperate loneliness was closing in on me. “Would you—read me some more of your letter, Bert?” I asked. “It sounded so—so friendly.”

He didn’t answer for a moment—just sat there, his
brown eyes watching me sympathetically. I was suddenly very glad Bert was with me. “Okay,” he said. He gave a little forced grin. “But the ol’ girl ain’t very ’ot at expressing ’erself,” he said. “She ain’t got the grammaktical flair wot I ’as.” He turned to the letter again. “Where was I? Oh, yes … Wot the neighbours will fink. ’If you let me know when the trial is an’ where, I’d like ter come along so as I can give their Lordships a piece of me mind if they don’t acquit you, Bert. I could park the brats wiv Mrs. Jackson—that’s the ol’ lady wot’s moved into the rooms up above us. But would they let me in the court? I ’ad a word wiv young Alf wot assists in the grocer’s shop da’n below—’e’s the one I told yer copped a packet at Salerno an’ got ’is ticket ’cos ’e was minus an arm—an’ ’e said ’e didn’t fink civilians was allowed in military courts. Not that ’e’s ever bin court-martialled—’e made that point very plain. Whereupon ’e said …’”

There were several pages of it, written in a straggling, ill-educated scrawl—but friendly, sympathetic, practical. He finished and I sat for a moment staring at that ridiculous ring. The red and white stones sparkled as though with devilish laughter. I suddenly picked up the bauble in a fury. I don’t know what I was going to do with it. I only knew I wanted to be rid of it. I think I was going to throw it through the barred window. But instead I turned to Bert. “Will you do something for me?” I asked.

“’Course,” he said. “Wot is it, mate?”

“I want you to send this ring to your missis, Bert,” I said. “Tell her—no, don’t tell her anything. Say you picked it up. Say anything you like about it. But send it to her. Here—catch!”

The stones twinkled. He caught it and stared down at the glittering stones as they lay in his dirty, wrinkled palm. “’Ere, wot’s the idea?” His tone was offended, suspicious.

“I don’t want it, Bert,” I said. “I’d like your missis to have it.”

“But—look ’ere, mate,” he said. “I can’t do that.
Wouldn’t be right. Worf quite a bit these days. An’ wot’d she do wiv it? She ain’t never ’ad nothing like this before.”

“That’s why I’d like her to have it,” I said.

“’Ere, take it,” he said. His voice seemed almost scared. “I don’t want it. I ain’t never taken nuffink from nobody.”

I flared up angrily. “Can’t you understand?” I cried. “I don’t want it. I never want to see that wretched ring again. But I can’t just throw it out of the window.” The outburst was over. “I’d like her to have it, Bert,” I said quietly. “Please send it to her. Tell her to sell it. It’ll help pay her rail fare to come down and see you. I’d like to meet your wife, Bert. I think—I think she must be a lovely person.

Bert suddenly laughed. “Blimey! I’ll tell ’er that. It’ll tickle ’er no end.” He looked down at the ring. “As fer this, we’ll talk ab’at that later,” he said and slipped it into a little notecase in which he kept photographs of his wife and kids.

That afternoon my family came over. It was an awkward meeting, I was their only child. The people they knew were mostly connected with the Navy. My father had been in the Diplomatic Service before he returned to Falmouth to take over the management of the family’s quarry business at his father’s death. Mutiny was a charge more startling to them than murder. They were kind. But I saw that all their hopes, which had been centred on me, were shattered.

After that time drifted by slowly, timelessly. I had written to Jenny, just to warn her that I might have to call on her as a witness for the defence. She filled my thoughts more and more. But the days drifted by and no word came. Our routine was easy. Bert and I helped the medical fellow clean out the guardroom in the mornings. We had half an hour’s exercise each day. Otherwise we were left to ourselves. There were two smaller cell rooms attached to the guardroom. The assault case was moved into one of these. I persuaded them to leave Bert and I together. Bert’s companionship became more
and more my only hold on life. I persuaded him after long arguments to send the ring to his wife. I still have the letter she wrote me. The hours of thought it had taken her to compose it were painfully obvious in every line. And yet through it, I got a glimpse of a woman whose bitter struggle through life had given her a wonderful sense of sympathy. She said she wouldn’t accept it, but she’d keep it until I had recovered from the blow and she could hand it back without upsetting me.

When we had been in the guardroom a week, a summary of evidence was taken. A Lieutenant Soames took it. The delay had been caused by the necessity of waiting for statements to arrive supporting the charges. He read me a statement by Rankin and another by Captain Halsey. They were quite correct in their facts. In my statement I explained all the cumulation of little things that had gone to build up my sense of uneasiness. I stressed the discovery of the loose planks in Number Two boat, Rankin’s refusal to report the matter to the Captain that night and Captain Halsey’s inexplicable attitude over the clearing of the raft
after
Rankin had reported to him the reason we had refused to enter the boat. The lieutenant wrote it all down laboriously in longhand. I read it through and signed it.

The taking of the summary of evidence took all morning and part of the afternoon. We returned to our quarters shortly after three.

“Reck’n they’ll send us for Court-Martial?” Bert asked.

“They’ve no alternative,” I said. “There’s a clear case against us. But somehow we’ve got to convince the Court-Martial that we were justified.”

“Fat chance we got o’ doing that,” Bert said. “I know a bit aba’t Court-Martials. There ain’t no such thing as justicification. You either obeyed the order or you didn’t. If yer didn’t, then Gawd ’elp yer. Didn’t a bloke write a poem once, somefink aba’t ‘There’s not ter reason why—there’s but ter do an’ die.’ No amount of explaining will get us a’t o’ this. Oh, well, wot’s it
matter? Six munfs—a year; better’ll being dead, like Sills.”

That’s how I felt. Our situation was hopeless.

Next morning we heard the guard outside clatter raggedly to attention. “Bit early for the orderly awficer, ain’t it?” Bert said. Boots sounded on the bare boards of the corridor outside. Then the door was flung open and the sergeant’s voice bawled out, “Prisoners! Prisoners, shun!” We sprang to attention and a captain came in.

“All right,” he said. “Sit down, both of you.” We relaxed. He seated himself on the table and took off his hat. He had dark hair and a blue, determined chin. His voice was sharp, precise, but not unfriendly. “I’ve come to tell you,” he said, “that the Camp Commandant, Colonel Ellison, has decided, on the summary of evidence taken, that your case be remanded for trial by Field General Court-Martial. You will be formally remanded by him later to-day. In the meantime there is the question of your defence. You can brief a professional lawyer. Or you can have any particular officer you wish to defend you, provided he is available. Alternatively, I am willing to act as Defending Officer. My name is Captain Jennings. I’m a solicitor in civilian life.” He looked quickly from one to the other of us. “Perhaps you’d like to think it over?”

I hesitated. I liked the look of him. His quick, precise manner of speech inspired confidence. To get a lawyer would mean calling on my family for finances. The only officer I would really have liked—a barrister who had been sailing with us several times—was overseas. “As far as I’m concerned, sir,” I said, “I’d be glad if you’d act for me.”

He glanced across at Bert. “An’ I’d be glad if yer’d do the same fer me, sir.”

“That’s fine,” he said. “We can get down to business right away.” The tone in which he said this suggested a man mentally rolling up his sleeves. It was almost as though he were really interested in the case. Indeed, I never had any cause to regret that our case was in his
hands. “I’ve had a look at the summary of evidence,”’ he said. “In it you both admit your guilt. What we have to decide now is the line we are going to take for your defence. Vardy, suppose you tell me exactly what happened and why you took the action you did. Just go through the whole thing as you remember it. I want to know what your thoughts were from the time you boarded the
Trikkala
to the time she was mined. Just relax and give me a chance to understand the thing from your point of view.”

There was not much I could add to what I had said in the statement to Lieutenant Soames. But I went through it all, explaining my growing uneasiness, the discovery that the planks were loose. I tried to make him understand why we had taken the action we did.

At the end, he turned to Bert. “Have you anything to add to that, Cook?”

Bert shook his head. “It’s just as the Corporal said,” he replied. “We was quite pally yer see, an’ we talked things over. I didn’t ’ave no ’esitation in followin’ ’is line of action.”

“Just one point,” said Captain Jennings. “Did you actually test the planks yourself or did you merely take the Corporal’s word for it?”

“No,” Bert replied. “I felt ’em meself. It was Sills wot discovered they was loose. I was on guard at the time. But ’e told me all aba’t it and when the Corporal relieved me I got ’im ter take me for’ard to ’ave a look for meself. Well, we couldn’t see ’em, of course. But I put me ’and up underneath the boat an’ as I recollect there was five of ’em loose. They didn’t move much. But enough ter make me doubt wevver the boat was seaworthy. Yer could move ’em aba’t a quarter of an inch.”

“I see.” He sat for a moment, swinging his leg. “Interesting case.” He spoke more to himself than to us. Then he looked at me. “It amounts to this, Corporal; you both intend to stick to the statements you have already made?”