Bland,” he says in a very upper class accent. “At your service, ladies.” He is talking to Penny and myself but we are quickly brushed aside by Miss Bondage.
“I am in command here,” booms Big B. “Kindly address your remarks to me, young man.”
“Captain Truscott is delighted to welcome you aboard, Ma’am. Please follow me.” Lieutenant Bland’s smile does not lose a watt of its intensity. I hear a desiring sigh and there is an ugly rush for the gangway.
“Back girls! Back! Remember who you are. The flower of English womenhood in bud.” Miss Bondage is no slouch when it comes to treating the lash with cold cream.
“Some of the sailors look awfully young, don’t they?” I say to Penny.
“It’s probably the healthy outdoor life,” says Penny, trying to raise her voice above the wolf whistles—some of the sailors are whistling too.
“Funny you should come today,” says Lieutenant Bland, “We’ve got the Bogsdown Sea Cadets here as well.” Bogsdown is the famous boy’s public school on the other side of the downs and I realise that what I thought were sailors with acne are really schoolboys. A faint feeling of alarm begins to creep over me.
“I didn’t know we were actually putting to sea,” says Miss Bondage.
“What!?” Lieutenant Bland looks about him and then rushes to the rail. The ship is quite clearly drifting away from the quay. As we watch, the gangplank drops into the water and sinks in a stream of bubbles.
At the sharp end, a hawser snakes out like a boa constrictor abandoning the ship and follows the gangplank into the water. Roxane and Eliza are staring intently at something on the other side of the harbour.
Everybody starts running all over the place and there is a loud crunch which I later learn is a small fishing smack—the crew escape with superficial injuries. Quite where your superficial is, I never find out. These medical terms are a dead loss outside University Challenge.
“Steady, girls!” shouts Miss Bondage. “No panic! Come out of that lifeboat, Fiona.”
“Spoil sport,” sniffs Fiona as she scrambles out with three boys. “I thought it was supposed to be women and children first?”
“Where are the children?” asks Penny.
“Give me time.” Fiona tosses a shoulder and disappears round a corner with one of the boys.
“That gel will come to a sticky end,” observes Miss Bondage.
“Or vice versa,” murmurs Penny.
“I’d like you to meet Sub-Lieutenant Brown,” says Lieutenant Bland, introducing a small eager-looking man.
“You work on submarines, do you?” I say.
Sub-Lieutenant Brown looks worried. “No. I’m under Lieutenant Bland.”
“Below decks?”
“I’m talking about rank. Lieutenant Bland has two rings, I only have one. Lieutenant Bland is senior to me.”
“Life is terribly unfair, isn’t it?” I say. “A little thing like that can make all the difference. I remember my Aunt—”
“You’re being over eager,” hisses Penny. “That’s terribly uncool.” Penny is right. I always talk too much when I am nervous. My mother is the same.
“This way, ladies.” Bland and Brown lead the way and we start to climb our first flight of narrow steps. I say first because, by the end of the visit, I feel as if I have been up and down the Eiffel Tower a couple of times. Eventually we approach what is clearly the Captain’s cabin. I am looking forward to seeing inside it but, unfortunately, I never get the chance.
“You two, marshall the troops,” says Miss Bondage firmly. “I’ll handle Captain Truscott.” Leaving our imaginations to grapple with every disturbing implication of that statement she sweeps into the cabin.
“Charming,” says Penny. “Oh well—” She turns round but there is no sign of a single troop waiting to be marshalled.
Just at that moment an attractive but harassed-looking man in a harassed tweed jacket comes round the corner. “Oh my God!” he says. “They’ve barricaded themselves in the engine room.”
“Who has?” I say, knowing the answer.
“Are you from St Rodence? I’m Patterson, Bogsdown. We’ve got to do something.”
“The ship is moving again,” says Penny.
“Who’s driving it?” I ask.
“Yoo hoo! Miss Green!” Hermione Spragg is calling to us from the deck above. “Is starboard, right or left?”
“Right,” says Penny.
“What did I tell you!? Now give me that wheel or I’ll scratch your eyes out!” Hermione disappears from view and I hear thumps and shouts of pain and rage. The ship veers hard to port.
“What are the crew doing?” I shriek.
“Most of them are in the brig, or under armed guard.”
“Armed!?”
“Yes. They broke into the armoury.” He ducks just in time as a twelve-inch gun sweeps over his head and trains on the town.
“Are those depth charges?” asks Penny. She is no doubt referring to the large underwater explosions that are sending tidal waves towards the fast disappearing shore.
“I think so. And it’s the anti-aircraft guns that have just shot down that biplane.”
No sooner has the parachute opened than the door of the Captain’s cabin bursts open and a large red-faced man and Miss Bondage and the two lieutenants fall in a heap at our feet. By the time they get up, the plane has crashed into an oil refinery and flames are leaping towards the sky.
“What is this!? A mutiny or subversion?” sobs the Captain. I notice that he is holding a telephone receiver and three inches of flex in his hand.
“I think the children have become a little over-excited,” says Miss Bondage calmly. “Miss Green, will you pop up and tell whoever is in that gun turret to stop sweeping the barrels around like that. Someone could get hurt.”
“My God! The aircraft carrier!” The Captain’s eyes are hanging out on stalks as we zoom towards an enormous wall of grey metal. This must be the end. Goodbye Mum! At the last second the destroyer swerves to one side and we scrape under that curved bit at the front. There is a horrible grinding noise as one of the anchor chains rubs against the ship.
“Oh, no! Get up to the bridge!!” The Captain scrambles to his feet and all three officers start running towards a flight of steps.
“Is nobody going to show us round the ship?” says Miss Bondage. “How very cavalier.” From above our heads we can hear shouts and excited squeals as the destroyer charges towards the harbour wall. “I don’t know
