Second to None Read Free

clenched his fist. He had been there once. When he had visited London, when his world had started to collapse.
    Adam forced his mind into the present. ‘Thank you, Mr Galbraith. That will suit well.’ He waited, saw the questions forming in the first lieutenant’s eyes. A good man, he thought, firm but not impatient with the new hands, and wary of the old Jacks who might seek favours from an unknown officer.
    He could feel the ship moving very gently beneath his feet. Eager to move, to be free of the land.
And what of me, her captain?
    He had seen Galbraith looking at the wine; it was from Catherine. Despite all that had happened, her despair and sense of loss, she had remembered. Or had she been thinking of one who had gone?
    â€˜Is there something else?’ He had not meant to sound impatient, but he seemed unable to control his tone. Galbraith had not apparently noticed. Or had he simply become accustomed to the moods of his new lord and master?
    Galbraith said, ‘If it is not an imposition, sir, I was wondering . . .’ He hesitated as Adam’s eyes settled coldly on him. Like someone watching the fall of shot, he thought.
    Then Adam said, ‘I am sorry. Please tell me.’
    â€˜I should like to pay my respects, sir. For the ship.’ He did not flinch as a voice on deck yelled obscenely at a passing bumboat to stand away. ‘And for myself.’
    Adam dragged out the watch from his pocket and knew Galbraith had noticed it. It was heavy and old, and he could recall exactly the moment when he had seen it in the shop in Halifax. The ticking, chiming clocks all around him, and yet it had seemed a place of peace. Escape, so many times. At the change of duties on deck, reefing or making sail, altering course, or entering harbour after a successful landfall . . . The old watch which had once belonged to another ‘seafaring officer’. One thing had made it different, the little mermaid engraved on the case.
    He said, ‘If you think we can both be spared from the ship?’ It was not what he had meant to say. It was the mermaid which had distracted him, the girl’s face, so clear, as in the shop.
Zenoria
.
    Then he said, ‘I would take it kindly, Mr Galbraith.’ He looked at him steadily and thought he could see a momentary warmth, something he had tried not to encourage. ‘Impress on the others, extra vigilance. We are under orders. I don’t want any deserters now. We’d not have enough to work ship, let alone fight.’
    â€˜I shall deal with it, sir.’ Galbraith moved towards the door. It was not much, but it was the closest they had yet been.
    Adam Bolitho waited for the door to close, then walked to an open quarter window and stared down at the water rippling beneath the counter.
    A beautiful ship. Working with the local squadron, he had felt the power of her. The fastest he had known. Soon the anonymous faces would become people, individuals, the strength and the weakness of any ship.
But not too close. Not again.
As if someone had whispered a warning.
    He sighed and looked at the cases of wine. How would Catherine manage, what would she do without the man who had become her life?
    He heard three bells chime faintly from the forecastle.
    It was going to be hard, even harder than he had imagined. People watching him, as they had watched his beloved uncle,with love, hatred, admiration and envy, none of them ever far away.
    He knew Galbraith’s background, and what had smashed his chance of promotion to the coveted post rank. It could happen to anybody.
To me.
He thought of Zenoria again, and of what he had done, but he felt no shame, only a deep sense of loss.
    He was about to walk beneath the open skylight when he heard Galbraith’s voice.
    â€˜When the Pendennis battery fires one gun, you will dip the flag and ensign, Mr Massie, and all hands will face aft and uncover.’
    Adam waited. It was like an intrusion,