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Authors: Douglas Reeman

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BOOK: Dive in the Sun
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‘There is always a choice! Did you notice how little interest that ship and the destroyer took of us? And did you not think it strange that there was no signal?’ He smiled, as if sharing a deep secret. ‘They do not care any more. Why should they?’

‘But what has all this——’ But the captain silenced him with a frown.

‘Please,
signore
, I am arriving at the end soon. It is ver’ difficult for me in a foreign language.’

‘You speak it well.’ Curtis clasped his hands in his lap and tried to mask his impatience.

‘Yes, I do,’ he beamed. ‘But this is what I have in mind. To the south is the Gargano Peninsular, you know of it?’

‘Yes. I had hoped to be past that point by tomorrow morning. After that,’ he shrugged wearily, ‘but what does it matter now?’

The captain’s eyes gleamed like black beads. ‘We will make for the peninsular, we will not pass it!’ He rocked back on his fat buttocks, until the waves seemed to reach up for him.

He was evidently amused by the perplexed expression on Curtis’s face, and he gripped his arm with sudden familiarity.

‘We are sailors, you and I. We know nothing of the ways of the land, and the people who live there.’ He embraced the sea with an excited hand. ‘Here, we are safe.
This
we understand. We will go to the Gargano Peninsular! Ask me why,
signore
!’ He was unable to conceal the excitement which shone on his round face and made his chins bounce loosely across his crumpled shirt.

‘You tell me. Why?’ Curtis wondered how much longer he could put up with the man’s behaviour.

‘Because the Germans are gone from there!’ He studied Curtis’s face with relish. ‘Yes,
signore
, all gone! They have gone to the fighting further south. The pensinsular is a good place to be!’

Curtis was fully alert now. ‘It’s still a long way away. What about the wounded men?’

‘Please,
signore
, I have thought of all that. We will drive the ship faster, the engine can give a little more I think.’ He dragged his finger across his pendulous lower lip and held it up like a small child. ‘The wind, you feel it? It is from the north! We will spread the sails! You give me the idea when you tell me about furling them correctly!’ He jumped to his feet and stared down at Curtis. ‘We can get there
before
morning! I have friends there,
signore
. Maybe we can get a doctor, and we can certainly get more water! What is there to lose?’

Curtis stood up and began to pace the deck with quick, nervous strides. What is there to
gain
, I wonder? he thought. Aloud he asked, ‘Why do you wish to help me?’

The captain sighed and moved his tongue in his cheek. ‘If I help you,
signore
, I keep my ship, and no doubt the British will not bother me? On the other hand, if I go back to the Germans, what will happen? They will use the
Ametisa
and her poor captain until they have no further use for us, and then … Boom! Finish! They will leave nothing behind in Italy when they go, that I know!’

Curtis halted in his stride and faced him thoughtfully.

‘You really believe you can contact your friends?’

‘But of course! I was born in Spigno, I know many people!’ He dropped his voice. ‘What can be lost by it? If I am wrong,’ he kissed his fingers, ‘Boom! But if all goes well, it is a ver’ good plan, yes?’

Curtis grinned, his mind made up. He clapped the captain across the shoulder. ‘A
very
good plan! I’ll get the chart!’

The captain smiled broadly. ‘As you wish. For myself, I have little use for such things!’

Curtis reached down and shook Duncan roughly by the arm. ‘Steve! Get up! On your feet, you drunken Aussie!’

Duncan stared at him with bleary eyes, unable to understand the boyish elation on Curtis’s face.

‘Whassup? We arrived yet?’

‘I’m going to have one last try, Steve!’ He pulled the grinning captain beside him. ‘We had a genius in our midst and didn’t know it!’

Duncan staggered to his feet and belched grandly. ‘You nuts or somethin’? How can things happen like this? Always when I’m asleep!’

The captain chuckled, no longer afraid of Duncan. ‘Me. I never sleep! Only my body sleeps!’ He punched the big Australian playfully on the stomach. ‘Your captain a good fella!’ He beamed at both of them and then hurried to the wheel.

Duncan shook his head and grimaced sourly. ‘What in hell’s name has got into him?’

‘He’s given me an idea, Steve. In fact, I’m going to try and break out after all. Whatever the damned consequences!’

Duncan listened unbelievingly, as the little captain screamed out a string of orders at his depleted crew. Taking the wheel, he spun the spokes with deft eagerness and watched anxiously as his men scrambled up the sagging rigging. The ship veered round, and as the first patched sail was unleashed, the captain gasped with pleasure. As he turned briefly towards the two officers, they saw that his eyes were wet.

‘For years I have waited to sail my
Ametisa
! Now for the first time since this accursed war begins, she will fly like a bird!’

Soon the thin jibsails crept skywards from the bowsprit, while aft the poop was darkened by the impressive beauty of the swinging spanker, which even the stains and patches could not spoil. The schooner leaned over on her side and stayed there, as the wind thrust steadily at her new power.

Duncan leaned against the tilting rail and whistled with amazement.

‘Well, can you beat that! These damned Eye-ties! He makes the flamin’ ship move an’ now he’s cryin’! That really beats everythin’!’

Curtis propelled him to the hatch. ‘Get George and tell him the sky’s the limit! I want every last bit of power! And you lay off a new course that’ll take us to the north-east of the Gargano Peninsular!’

Duncan bit his lip and watched the new light which gleamed from Curtis’s eyes.

‘Don’t bank too much on this, Ralph! It might not come off you know.’

But Curtis lifted his head with complete confidence and calm.

‘What is there to lose now?’ he asked simply.

Duncan shouted Curtis’s instructions to Taylor’s incredulous face above the roar of the diesel, and was only sure that he had understood when the little man seized his hand and danced dangerously on the oily catwalk.

He heard a series of disjointed yelps. ‘… another chance! Show the bleedin’ …’ and nodded in agreement.

He ran quickly to the after hatch, ducking his head beneath the long, unfamiliar boom, and glanced up at the towering sail. His craggy face creased into a reluctant smile.

‘Good on yer, you little Eye-tie sea-cook! But I’ll believe it all when I see it!’

He was about to step into the cabin when he stiffened, as Jervis called through the opposite door.

‘Is that you, Steve? Can I speak to you for a moment?’

Duncan’s smile vanished, and he paused uncertainly in the sloping passage-way.

‘Please, Steve. I want to try and explain!’

Duncan’s eyes met those of the soldier who sat crouched outside the door. He was the one with half his hand missing. Duncan had seen him moving unsurely about the deck gazing dazedly at the fat dressing on the end of his arm. Duncan remembered the water, and his face hardened.

‘It’s me! Ian!’ the voice called again.

Duncan patted the soldier’s shoulder vaguely and moved towards the chart. Over his shoulder he called, ‘Never heard of him!’ He slammed the door behind him and stared down at the chart, his eyes angry. ‘Blast the ruddy war!’ he said.

True to the captain’s promise, the
Ametisa
had taken on
new
life, and with her frayed rigging thrumming in the wind and her deck beams shuddering to the increased vibration of the engine, she flung herself joyfully across the water.

Curtis stayed with the vigilant captain, the chart folded beneath his arm and an unlit pipe clamped between his strong teeth. Never before, not even on the most hazardous operation, had he felt the agony of passing time. Each unfamiliar movement by one of the soldiers, or a change of expression on the captain’s face, made him steel himself in readiness for a change of plans to meet a new crisis. A small fishing fleet, a mere cluster of black dots in the distance, passed with maddening slowness, and he thought it typical of fishermen the world over to carry on with their trade regardless of the world’s happenings.

Signor Zecchi came on deck and sniffed the air with obvious satisfaction.

Curtis spoke softly to the plump man at his side. ‘Not a word to him about what we’re doing. Not yet at any rate.’ He was not even sure himself why he felt such uneasiness at the mayor’s presence, but something about the man’s complete self-confidence and the bland lack of expression on his smooth face, made him cautious.

‘We are moving nicely, Lieutenant. It is making a great difference to set the sails so.’

‘Yes. With this following wind we are getting another four knots out of her.’

‘When do you expect to make a landfall?’ The question was light, yet Curtis sensed the strain in his voice.

‘It is hard to say exactly. We have drifted quite a bit. And of course the navigation is quite difficult under these circumstances.’

Signor Zecchi’s eyes watched him closely. ‘Perhaps we shall sight a patrol ship soon. It would be advisable to signal her if so. My daughter and I could transfer to more comfortable quarters, and you would receive better assistance for your charges.’

‘Perhaps.’ And we would be clapped in irons, he thought. ‘I expect that all major war vessels will be congregating in the south.’

‘It is a pity we have no radio aboard. It would be good to know what is happening down there.’

Curtis sensed a challenge being offered, and smiled briefly. ‘There can be little doubt about the final outcome, surely? Whatever happens to us, nothing can stop the Allied armies now. If your country persists in its resistance, it will suffer much damage and misery.’

‘The battle is not over yet, Lieutenant!’ His voice was stiff. ‘The Germans will not give up without a fight!’

‘I see. You mean you’ve already thought that your people might give up?’

‘Never!’ The black eyes flashed with sudden anger. ‘We are of one mind! One basic principle binds us in a common shield against the invader!’

Curtis grinned. ‘Calm yourself, please! You’re not addressing a political rally now!’

Behind him the captain chuckled, and the mayor glared fiercely towards him.

‘You will do well to mind your manners, Captain! I have a good memory!’

The captain stared calmly at the sails. ‘Forgive me,
signore
. I am only an ignorant sailor.’

The mayor snorted, and with his hands bunched into his pockets, he stalked forward towards the fo’c’sle.

The captain watched him go. His eyes were narrow slits when he spoke.

‘I think maybe it would be better if he did not reach our destination!’

‘No. We cannot blame him for his opinions. Besides,’ he smiled wearily, ‘we don’t know what is going on behind us. He has been missed by his friends, and for all we know, they might have seen through our whole scheme.’

‘Hmmm!’ He was unconvinced. ‘Tell me,
signore
, did you see that dock blow up? The one in Vigoria?’

‘No. We were clear by then.’

‘It must be a terrible thing to carry out such destruction.’ The captain studied Curtis curiously. ‘Does it bother you at all?’

‘It is war. It is never good to remember things like that.’

The captain laughed with sudden gaiety. ‘You are not like the Germans! They would be boasting of their achievements by now, if they were in your position!’

Carla Zecchi walked quickly across the poop from the hold. She stood momentarily by the rail, breathing deeply, her head held upwards against the blue sky.

Curtis saw the dress tighten across her rounded breasts with each breath, and felt his heart beat with excitement which he was unable to control. She’s lovely, he thought. So slim and yielding, and yet in some ways harder than all of us.

I wonder what she thinks about me? I practically accused her of sabotaging the water supply. It seemed the only explanation at the time. He walked slowly towards her, and stood just behind her at the rail.

As his shadow fell across her body she turned and looked up at him. He had expected animosity, or open hostility, but her eyes held only a strange sadness.

‘How are the wounded,
signorina
?’ His voice was almost gruff, and he felt clumsy beside her.

‘The same. They are all very strong men fortunately. I think they will survive the journey.’

‘I see.’

Curtis stared at the water as it surged and gurgled along the wooden hull. He tried to think of something to say, but her unwavering eyes made thought difficult.

‘In England you would talk about the weather?’

He darted a quick glance at her, expecting taunts or sarcasm.

She smiled gravely, her small teeth gleaming. ‘What is it you wish to say to me? If it is an apology, I would rather hear about the weather!’

He laughed bitterly. ‘Nevertheless, I
am
sorry about all that has happened to you. You have been a tremendous help right from the start. I am sure that had my duty permitted otherwise, things might have been very different.’ He paused, again uncertain of how to continue.

She turned her head away from him, and her tanned neck was close to his face. Painfully close it seemed.

‘Will you try to escape again when we reach the land?’ Her voice was soft. ‘You will surely not allow yourself to be taken prisoner now that you have got so far?’

‘I don’t know yet what I shall do.’

She twisted round again to face him, her eyes puzzled. ‘That I find hard to believe. You do not strike me as a man who fails to make preparations.’

Curtis grinned awkwardly. ‘You forget. We are enemies.’

‘Yes, that is so. I wish it could be otherwise.’

He studied her face with sudden intentness. ‘I believe you meant that!’

‘Perhaps. I have had much time to think on this ship. And I know you have done what you had to do. Just as my father has acted with devotion and loyalty in the past.’ She shook her head angrily and the plait danced down her back. ‘The past! It is the future which is so terrifying!’ She looked straight into his eyes. ‘For all of us!’

BOOK: Dive in the Sun
6.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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