Road to Recovery

Chapter 20

  The following morning I awoke raring to go, but the problem was, where to? After a quick five laps of the ship, with Clyde and a very reluctant Bonnie in tow, a shower and a light breakfast I called Maria into my lounge, she was chirpiness personified, and had a tan fit to die for. She looked relaxed, refreshed and completely happy with life – I must be paying her too much, ‘Maria will you please get me the name and number of ‘that’ woman at the Employment Agency in London’. She leaned across and pressed a few buttons on my laptop, and there it was, obviously my fingers hadn’t gone to the same school as hers. When I had met ‘Handsworthy’ at the interviews in the Dorchester we had seemed to get on quite well, no blood had been spilt, and as she was the only really ‘Posh’ person that I knew, what had I to lose?

  Ring, Ring, ‘Handsworthy Placement Agency’, Veronica speaking how may I be of assistance?’

  ‘Good morning (I think) Veronica this is Andrew Michaels; would it be at all possible to have a quick word with Mrs Handsworthy please?’

  ‘One moment please, I will see if Lady Handsworthy is available’

  ‘Hyacinth Handsworthy speaking, how was Palm Beach then Andrew?’

  Things were definitely not going to plan:-

  1.She was a Lady

  2.We were now on first name terms, whether I liked it or not, and

  3.She yet again knew all about me – spooky.

  ‘Third’ things first, ‘how on earth do you know about Palm Beach’ I spluttered?

  ‘Remember that lady with the terrible blue rinse hair colouring that you had a few words with as she waited to go ashore last night?’ she said, ‘well, that is my sister, and we speak on the telephone almost every day,’ I could almost hear the smile in her voice ‘no spy cameras, I promise’. That answered the third question, now for the first, ‘I didn’t realise that I was talking to royalty, can I get off my knees yet?’ Now that the ice was broken we ‘small talked’ for a few minutes then I told her all about Palm Beach.

  ‘What a lovely place, but I must admit that it is definitely an acquired taste, but how can I help you?’ I explained that what I needed was a swift course in how to be ‘posh’, and also, as an afterthought, how to organise and run a large household. It had been nagging away at the back of my mind since taking on the last batch of staff.

  ‘You will do fine, all you need is your self-confidence building up’, and then she propositioned me - in the nicest possible way. As I still had over a week left on the Sea Sprite she would, in a couple of days’ time, fly out to El Campo (of course at my expense) and ‘go through them like a dose of salts’, and after I arrived back in Spain she would then spend a few days with me ‘gently rounding off the edges - but what I really needed’, she half-jokingly said, ‘was a Lady of the House’ (in other words a wife).

  Now that shook me up, ‘too soon’ I retorted, perhaps not quite as light heartedly as the rest of the conversation had been, but she persevered.

  ‘How soon is the ‘right’ time then Andrew? I am sure that if Sheila were listening to us right now she would agree with me, how long do you have to punish yourself for something that was not your fault? If the right person comes along don’t let her slip by’.

  ‘You don’t own a Lonely Hearts Agency as well do you?’ I asked, trying to pass her comments off lightly, but she had hit a nerve, and so we quickly concluded the conversation; still on friendly terms - just. As I put the phone down I cast my mind back to the night before last, when I had been at the carnival. One of the young students had blithely informed me that ‘if I didn’t have anywhere to kip, I could always use her bed, she could use the company’. I was mortified, and when I replied that I had a daughter older that her, she retorted ‘and your point is?

  The world had definitely changed in thirty years, or perhaps it was just me!

  I was snapped out of my daydreams by Maria, ‘Carol, sorry First Officer Carter would like a quick word with you’. Perhaps the ship was sinking, and after telling Maria to warn El Campo of the impending storm I asked her to show her in.

  First Officer Carter stood in front of me and didn’t say a word, she just removed five printouts from a thick folder that she was carrying and laid them out in front of me. The first was an artist’s impression of a beautiful looking Destroyer carving its way majestically through rough seas. The second was a copy of a photograph of what I presumed was the same ship, but under construction, and the third, fourth and fifth were hastily drawn sketches of what had to be the same ship again, but now converted into a yacht.

  ‘Well First Officer Carter, or may I call you Carol, I presume that this has something to do with your right arm? - please continue’.

  Carol started, she realised that I might only have been joking last night, but hoping against hope that I hadn’t, she went through what she had done, and when I didn’t throw her out she sat down and re-opened up the folder, and we went through the remainder of what she had collected, page by page. One of the other sketches in the folder was particularly dreadful, it had what looked like a conservatory built over the area between the hangar and bridge structures, very imaginative (I think not), this was apparently the feeble effort by the SNO (Senior Naval Architect), although I had immediately take a liking to one of the original three sketch’s, it was signed D. Duk (he had to be called Donald) and I put it to one side. I also liked some of the interior layouts done on a CAD (computer aided design) package by a M. Monroe, this has to be a wind-up, and those went to one side as well. I then rang Herr Flik, introduced myself and after very little preamble it was agreed that he would put a hold on the scrapping of YN 246, which was due to start in two months’ time, and carry out a feasibility study for me on the practicalities of converting her into a floating gin palace, or should that be rum punch palace. I also suggested that Donald (that indeed was his nick name) and Marta (drat) should be allowed to run with their ideas, they seemed to be thinking along the same lines that I was. Initially he was not too happy about this, he would much prefer that the Companies SNO, his brother, head up the study, but when I told him that I had already seen his contribution and would instantly pull out of the project if he ever came within a thousand metres of my ship (my ship?), he reluctantly agreed. We then agreed a fixed price for the study, deductible from the purchase price of course if I went ahead with the project, and he agreed that they would start the study the moment the money arrived in their company account. It would be there within the hour, but I would lay odds that they were already all hard at work as we spoke, and I must think of another name for her, YN 246 just didn’t trip of the tongue very easily. When I put the phone down I looked up at Carol and smiled, then asked her the sixty-four thousand dollar question, ‘and what is in this for you then?’

  Lowering her eyes she whispered ‘Perhaps the Chief Officer’s berth?’

  Who were you kidding lady, your sights are set a lot higher than that.

  After she left to resume her duties, the poor Third Officer must be on the verge of collapse by now, I remembered what Captain Hill had said whilst he had been showing me around my accommodation that first day on board, ‘pop up and see me anytime’, so I popped up and saw him, but when he realised my impromptu visit wasn’t just a social call we retired to his sea cabin, hoping that the ship wouldn’t hit anything whilst he was off the bridge, a fairly safe bet as we were still at anchor. I talked him through what had just gone on in my suite, and showed him a few of the sketches and the photo. He whistled through his teeth, agreed with me that it had the makings of a fine ship, he had seen the quality of Herr Flik’s ships first hand, and it were first class, but he correctly guessed that my real reason for the visit was Carol Carter. As I was now a senior share holder in the Borne Line, and as such ‘almost’ his boss, he felt that he could talk confidentially to me about her, so dispatching the luckless Third Officer to fetch Carol’s file from below we then went through it page by page, and apart from the write-up from the Captain of her last ship, her c
areer had been exemplary throughout, and whilst she had been on Sea Sprite, she had, on numerous occasions, ‘acted up’ to Chief Officer, a rank that she had by law to be capable of assuming at a moment’s notice, and once, during an outbreak of something very nasty, to Captain for a week, and didn’t break anything. ‘She has all the qualifications necessary to take a vessel such as this (Sea Sprite), and that (he nodded at the printouts) to sea, although she might have to complete a couple of refresher courses first to keep the insurers happy’. On a personal note he felt sorry for her, she was an excellent Officer, but due to circumstances beyond her control she was in all probability blocked from ever having her own command, so I asked him, off the record, ‘Would I be making a mistake if I took her on as the Captain of my ship, if not YN 246 then whatever I ended up with?’

  He looked me straight in the eyes and said a firm and emphatic ‘no’.

  Assuming that I would want her to supervise the feasibility study he could, if I wished, let me have her as an ‘advisor’ for one month, starting today, (he was unusually ‘flush’ with deck officers at the moment), but he didn’t have the authority to release her from her contract with the Company, she had only recently signed on for a further four months, although he could, if I didn’t have a problem with it, dismiss her from the ship (sack her) whenever I liked, and then he hinted at her sexual orientation. ‘Unofficially’ he knew of her dalliances with some of the guests, after all he was the Master, he should know of these things, even though she had been very discreet (that explained the smile on Maria’s face). It hadn’t interfered with the smooth running of his ship so he had done a ‘Nelson’ and turned a blind eye, but if it were to be bought to his attention ‘officially’, perhaps by a senior shareholder, then he would have to quietly dismiss her (perhaps while she was away consulting in Germany), as her actions constituted a dismissible offence in the ‘Code of Conduct’ of the Borne Line. It was definitely time to have a think, and seek some advice, so back in my suite I rang Vicente, and he promised to look into the matter and ring me back as soon as possible, which he did, just before dinner.

  After dinner, as I left the Captain’s table I walked over to Carol’s table and quietly asked her if she would mind calling in to see me a little later on. I think some of the other guests thought that I was propositioning her, but I didn’t mind, it would do my street cred no end of good, apparently it was much needed. Ten minutes later I sat with a fine cognac in my hand (Carol only wanted tonic water as she said she was on duty later) and offered her the position of Director of Maritime Services, which meant that she would be responsible to me for all things maritime in the Michaels household, including that damn Marina. She sat there dazed for a minute - then took the glass out of my hand and drained it. We talked for over two hours about what her responsibilities would be, her salary, her perks, her immediate thoughts on my marina, and what seemed like a hundred other things, including what Captain Hill had hinted at (my ‘code of Conduct’ was more flexible than the Bourne Lines), and then I asked her how long I would have to wait for her decision. She walked over to the drinks cabinet, poured two large Cognac’s and then after handing me one, chinked our glasses and pointed out that she didn’t have to worry about ‘drinking and driving’ the Sea Sprite anymore, she was just about to be sacked. After downing her drink, for Dutch courage I think, she went off to inform Captain Hill of her decision, hoping as she went that he hadn’t decided on an uncustomary early night, although as she had departed I asked her to be back in my suite by one o’clock. Why did I want a beautiful woman to come to my suite at one o’clock in the morning? – Simple - because I wanted to hold a staff meeting of course, what other reason could there possibly be?

  My rather naive idea had been to formally introduce her to the rest of my motley crew, but on her way to see Captain Hill, Carol had quickly stopped off to tell Maria the good news, and Maria had then told Carol, who told David, who told Charlie, and so as I was about to telephone Maria to tell her to go and wake the others up, they all came traipsing in. But why, may you ask, couldn’t the introductions wait until morning, well the Sea Sprite was going to weigh anchor at eight o’clock (sorry 08:00 – or was it the third watch of the first bell or some-such thing)), and by then I wanted Carol and Caroline ashore and on their way to El Campo.

  Before we left Spain I’d had a quiet chat with Caroline about her position in the new order of things. I would soon be having a genuine ‘gentleman’s gentleman’, although I hoped she would still continue to carry out this function whilst we were on trips like this one, that didn’t necessitate taking a huge entourage with me, and she readily agreed, it would mean that she would still be with her David (ahhh), but the major change that I envisaged for her was that she would perhaps become a sort of ‘Director without Portfolio’, a ‘Girl Friday’, after all I couldn’t afford to lose her, I would most probably forget my name! At the moment she was the only one of my staff that called me Andrew, I was ‘Boss’ to David and Charlie, ‘Jefé’ (boss in Spanish) to Maria, and ‘Sir or Usted’ (a more formal form of Sir) to everyone else, although I must sort something out with Carol, I don’t think that I would like to be called Admiral. It was in Caroline’s new capacity of ‘Girl Friday’ that I was sending her off in the morning with Carol, to introduce her to the people at El Campo, get her settled in, show her around, and to get her kitted out with a car, credit cards, some really expensive ‘power suites’ and a new uniform or two (with loads and loads of gold braid). If Carol was going to represent me at meetings, then I wanted her looking the db’s, sorry - the business; and she was going to start representing me very soon - with the Marina Architects.

  The next morning, or a little later that morning to be more precise, I was up bright and early (well early anyway). I saw Carol and Caroline off, then watched the Sea Sprite up anchor and hot foot it out to sea, trying to get as far away from land as she possibly could, as apparently the weather was ‘perfect’. Captain Hill promised us something special, and as the Sea Sprite increased speed to her maximum ‘comfortable’ speed, we all settled down to wait and find out what he had in store for us, so, as I wandered around the ship with my faithful hounds at my side, I came across a beautiful bit of shippery, or whatever its correct terminology was, it was the flag staff at the stern. The red ‘duster’ was flapping about in the breeze above my head, and as I leaned against the varnished pole I felt all the vibrations of the ship reverberating through my head, and it was as though she was talking to me; and as I watched the wake of Sea Sprite disappearing off towards the horizon I felt a strange peace descend over me; it was a truly relaxing experience. I must make sure that YN 246 has one of these.

  That evening, as darkness started to descend, Captain Hill slowed the ship, and we all went to the pictures. There was a cinema on board of course, but this was to be something different. The luckless Third Officer had obtained a copy of the latest George Clooney block buster, and after all the exterior lights were switched off (except of course for the navigation lights) he showed it to us on a large screen that had been specially rigged up outside. Bonnie lay quietly on my lap, and Clyde on Charlie’s, and as the film came to its gripping conclusion the operator shut the projector off, and then did absolutely nothing; and we all sat in total darkness. Suddenly Bonnie gave a yelp, which made everyone jump, leapt off my lap and jumped up onto a nearby locker beside the guard rail. She was looking up at the stars, and there were millions upon millions of them, this must be the something special that Captain Hill had promised us. Away from the industrial haze of the land the sky was a mass of stars, it was as though a huge jet black bowl had been painted on its inside with millions of tiny specs of lights, and then placed on the horizon all around us, and as I held firmly onto her lead, I noticed that Bonnie was looking at one part of the sky in particular, then she started barking and wagging her tail, she hadn’t acted like this in almost a year. After I quietened her down a little I remembered a visit that I’d had to my Nan when I was a you
ng lad. It was shortly after Pops had suddenly died, and my Mum and Dad had taken me to the funeral. We were staying the night with Nan, to help her through the ordeal, and after everyone else had gone home I became very upset, I was missing Pops terribly. Nan took my hand and led me outside to look up at the stars, and as we looked at them she told me ‘those twinkling lights are all our friends and relatives that have gone away’. ‘They are all holding lanterns and are waving them at us, to let us know that they still remember us, and that one there (pointing to the extra bright Polar Star) is Pops, wave to him’. I waved to him, and instantly came to terms with his departing; from then on only having the fondest of memories of him. Bonnie continued to stare at that one particular patch of stars, still giving the occasional yelp, and then one of stars momentarily flared up much brighter than the others, and then subsided again. She then gave another yelp, jumped down, and started to play with Clyde, something she hadn’t done since before we had embarked on the Sea Sprite. Of course as I had grown older I hadn’t believed Nan when she had repeated that story over, and over, and over again, but I still blew Sheila a goodnight kiss – just in case.

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