Deep Water by Tim Jeal Page A

they would be seeing a Captain Borden, whom Andrea had never met, and Lieutenant Commander Harrington, whom she had. She imagined Borden would be older than Harrington, whose age she guessed to be aboutthe same as hers, though possibly he was younger. She remembered his cold hands and Sally’s remarks about his indifference to admirers. Something else had remained with her since their brief meeting at Elspeth’s: a suspicion that his inscrutable good looks masked an iron will responsible for his elevation above more relaxed contemporaries such as Tony Cassilis.
    This impression seemed to be confirmed as he entered the room and ignored her in favour of a grey-haired companion whom she now recognised as the officer she had seen stepping onto the pontoon . Harrington turned his handsome face towards her at last.
    ‘Mrs Pauling, let me introduce Captain Borden, our senior naval officer on the river.’ He smiled at his superior and nodded in Justin’s direction. ‘And that, sir, is Mrs Pauling’s alarmingly aquatic son.’
    Andrea said sharply, ‘Justin is my son’s friend.’
    ‘No offence meant, madam,’ muttered Captain Borden, seating himself next to Harrington on the opposite side of the table. ‘I understand you took great exception to the boy being ticked off by Petty Officer Lee.’
    ‘He was making way too much fuss over a silly prank.’
    Borden stared back at her stolidly. ‘You think so.’ The deep creases on either side of his high-bridged nose gave him a sneering expression. ‘You think trespassing on naval property in wartime is something to be laughed about?’
    Andrea sat up very straight. ‘Captain Borden, I did not say that.’
    Harrington cupped his chin in a hand, and, to Andrea’s surprise, smiled encouragingly. ‘Go ahead, Mrs Pauling, and tell us exactly what you think about Justin’s escapade.’
    ‘My son was there, too. It was just a boys’ dare to swim out to the boats.’
    Borden suddenly barked out, ‘Tell me, boy, did your friend get on board too?’
    ‘No, sir. He’s a bad swimmer.’
    Captain Borden’s skin was sunburned and blotched with large freckles. In Andrea’s eyes, he looked self-important and peevish in his creased uniform with its rows of medal ribbons. ‘But you’re a good swimmer, eh, Justin?’
    ‘I’m better than him.’
    ‘So why didn’t you decide to win your bet by swimming across the river? You wouldn’t have failed.’
    Andrea looked anxiously at Justin, but he said calmly, ‘It’d have been less fun, sir.’
    ‘Why’s that, boy?’
    ‘No chance of being caught.’
    ‘I see.’ Borden shifted his heavy body on his small chair. ‘So you were happy to play silly buggers with the navy for a bit of excitement. Too bad if you’d banged your head when you jumped over the side, or if one of our ratings had been drowned going in after you.’
    ‘They launched a boat, sir.’
    ‘In the middle of the night, just for you.’
    ‘I promise I’ll never do it again.’
    Afraid that Justin was about to cry, Andrea felt suddenly distraught. ‘That’s enough, Captain.’
    ‘Why’s that, madam?’
    ‘Because he’s said he’s sorry.’ Borden’s exasperation with her for intervening made her angry. ‘So he saw inside a patrol boat. Is that such a big deal?’
    Harrington faced her with an affability she decided was bogus. ‘In the navy we tend to think that even humble gunboats and armed trawlers shouldn’t be treated like public property.’
    ‘Damn right,’ agreed Borden. ‘Minor warships are bloody well invaluable. Who else looks after our coastal convoys and protects our fishermen from E-boats? Nobody.’
    Andrea inclined her head. ‘Captain Borden, I didn’t question their value, only your sense of proportion .’ While Borden’s face went a deeper shade of red, Harrington seemed to have trouble keeping a straight face. Andrea feared he was laughing at her. ‘If he’d gotten aboard a new submarine or a secret airplane, I’d be on