We Saw The Sea Read Free Page B

ante-post prices at Bogside, Lingfield and Pontefract.
    The contents of the folder were completed by a copy of the Highway Code, an F.A. Cup Final programme, a packet of Jescot Jim dahlia seeds and a coloured picture of St Stephen the Martyr being stoned.
    The whole collection of papers gave the impression that it had been compiled by a civil servant about to go on holiday who had thought it an excellent opportunity to clear out his trays.
    The last and smallest piece of paper, which had been left behind when Michael tipped out the rest, informed Michael that he was appointed Lieutenant, Royal Navy, to H.M.S. Carousel , additional for passage and vice Rowlands, to join H.M.T. Astrakhan in uniform at Southampton catching the boat train leaving Waterloo at noon. He was to acknowledge receipt of these instructions forthwith to the Director of Movements, Admiralty, and to the Commanding Officer, H.M.S. Carousel , taking care to furnish his address.
    Michael rang up Mary.
    “Hullo, is that you?” Michael sometimes wished he was more fluent at starting telephone conversations.
    “Yes, it’s me, darling, how are you?”
    “I’m fine, how are you?”
    “You don’t sound fine. Has something happened?”
    “My thing from the Admiralty has come.”
    “Oh Michael. What is it?”
    “It’s Carousel . A cruiser. At least, I suppose you could call it a cruiser.”
    “Where is she? In the Home Fleet?”
    “No, she’s gone out to the Far East.”
    “The Far East! Michael!”
    “I know. . .
    “When do you have to go?”
    “Now don’t get all worked up about it. . .
    “ When , Michael?”
    “The seventeenth. A week on Friday.”
    “A week! “
    “Yes. Honestly Mary, there’s no need to get all steamed up just because. . .
    Michael at last hung up quickly, knowing that Mary was about to burst into tears. He felt vaguely piqued by her attitude; anyone would think he was going on a suicide mission of no return instead of taking up a perfectly normal appointment in a perfectly normal ship which happened to be at the other end of nowhere. Michael went away to look up Hong Kong in the atlas.
    Paul Vincent received his appointment by the afternoon post. His had no gay portfolio attachments but consisted of a single sheet of paper: Paul was appointed Lieutenant (E), Royal Navy, to H.M.S. Carousel , additional for passage and vice Cardew. The appointment was written in stern handwriting, with hard vicious strokes of the pen, as though it had been written by a civil servant just returned from holiday.
    Paul read the appointment watched by his mother and Cedric, her stockbroker. Mrs Vincent was not pleased when she was told.
    “Far East!” she said. “They must be mad! The Van Baxters will be furious. I promised them we would all be at Sandra’s wedding. I’m going to give Seamus a ring and tell him not to be such an idiot! What was the name of the ship that stupid man at the Admiralty promised you, darling? Now, I wonder what Seamus’s number is? I used to know them all. . .
    “Mother,” Paul said firmly, “you’ll telephone your boyfriends at the Admiralty over my dead body.”
    “And over mine,” said Cedric heartily.
    “Cedric!”
    “I’m sorry Louise, but for once I entirely agree with your son. It would be most bad policy to approach anyone at the Admiralty over this. It would smack of nepotism, and rightly so. In any case, it will do Paul a power of good to serve in the Far East. Put the fear of God into the Chinks too, I’ve no doubt.”
    Paul wanted to tell Anne the news immediately but there were disadvantages to telephoning her. She had only just passed her secretarial examinations and worked in a room full of girls under the supervision of a lady called Mrs Grant. Mrs Grant watched over her girls as zealously as though they were inmates of a Turkish seraglio and she allowed no private telephone calls during working hours and certainly none from young men. While Mrs Grant knew of no case where a seduction