‘That was the first thing you ever asked me. Between limbo dances and morbid interest in my soul. You see, all your crew are experts at their different jobs. And you rely on them completely, and you do your own job. It’s a matter of complete mutual trust.’
She asked: ‘Are you still a Christian, Jack?’
He smiled. ‘Of sorts. Thanks to you and Saint Thomas. In that order.’
She smiled. ‘But a Catholic?’
‘Once a Catholic, always a Catholic, you can’t expect too much of us. I still live in fear secretly. It’s the only way I know how.’
‘Do you pray?’
‘I have a crack at it once a day.’ He added: ‘I don’t think I sound very convincing.’
She grinned. ‘But why do you live in secret fear?’
‘The Jesuits say, Give me a child till age seven, and you’ve got him for life.’
‘But you weren’t brought up by Jesuits.’
‘My father was.’
She smiled and got back to her original question. ‘But now that you’re the commander of the submarine, all that responsibility for this multi-multi-million-pound machine. So huge, in that dark, hostile environment – sailing blind … How do you feel?’
He said: ‘I still rely completely on my crew. And our equipment is so very sophisticated. I know exactly where we are. I know the depth to the ocean bed, my charts and radar tell me what obstacles lie ahead, the contours of the sea bed, even if there’s a shoal of fish. Our nuclear fuel and oxygen will keep us going for months. And it’s always calm down there, even if there’re mountainous waves on the surface. It’s really very safe.’
She sighed, unconvinced. ‘And what about the Special Boat Service you’re in?’
He was surprised again that she knew.
‘I was never in the Special Boat Service. Max’s detective got that one wrong. The Special Boat boys are far too hot-shot for me. They’re the crack underwater warriors, Navy’s equivalent to the SAS. But they sometimes work in conjunction with submarines, and a couple of years ago I was made Submarine Liaison Officer for a year, at Poole, where the Special Boat Service has its headquarters. Submarine Liaison Officer is a boring desk job, nothing to do most of the time. So I asked if I could join in some of the training the Special Boat boys do, for the hell of it. My admiral thought it was a good idea. But I wasn’t much good. I’m a submariner, not a commando.’
She looked unconvinced. ‘What did you learn?’
‘Oh, some parachuting. Water jumps. Then some ground jumps. Then a few night jumps.’ He shook his head. ‘I got my little certificates, but I didn’t like it, I’m scared of heights.’
She smiled. ‘Then what?’
‘Then I went back to Lympstone, where I’d done my basic training years ago. I joined in some commando courses with the SBS boys. Assault courses. Unarmed combat. Weaponry. That was good fun.’
‘Then what?’
‘That’s it. I applied to learn to fly, but they thought that was a bit extravagant for a submariner. So I tried to take my private pilot’s licence, at my own expense. I got halfway through, but had to go back to sea before I finished.’
‘What a pity. Will you finish it?’
‘Yes, but only because I don’t like leaving jobs half-done. I don’t like flying.’
‘Oh, I love it. I’ve got my private pilot’s licence, now.’
He was impressed. ‘Have you?’
‘Max has a plane. A Cessna. I decided to do it, and it’s great fun. However – what else did you learn?’
‘That’s it. My year ashore was up and I went back to my nice safe submarine.’
She smiled. ‘Safe, huh? And what are your submarines doing for their living?’
‘Defence patrols. Shadowing Russian fleets. And shadowing Russian submarines that are shadowing NATO fleets.’
‘And isn’t there a Russian submarine shadowing you?’
‘Yes, but there’s usually another of our submarines shadowing him.’
‘And if there’s a war you all bang torpedoes into each other?’
‘Ah, war,’ he said. ‘Well, we’re all afraid of war, that’s why we’re all shadowing each other, to prevent it.’
She said, ‘Were you in the Falklands War?’
‘Yes, my sub was down there.’
She sighed deeply. ‘I thought you were. Was it you who sank the Belgrano?’
He grinned. ‘No.’
‘And? Were you afraid?’
‘At times. It was the first time I’d gone to war, you see.’ He added: ‘Not that I saw much of it, from down there.’
She sighed deeply. ‘Oh God, war … What a terrible way to die, deep under the hostile ocean, the water pouring in. At least in ordinary ships you have lifeboats.’ She sighed again. ‘You know, I’ve said a prayer for you every night for five years.’
‘Have you? …’ And oh, he was so happy, and he knew with absolute certainty that she was going to be his.
She walked beside him, her hands clasped behind her back.
‘Very well. I’ll try. What do you want to know?’
He said: ‘Why did he put you through that ordeal with the dolphins?’
She paced. She did not want to talk about it.
‘We’d had another row. He did it to punish me.’
‘Jesus. What a terrible thing to do. What about?’
‘Never mind.’
‘You were very courageous.’
‘Not really. I didn’t have time to think, I just thought I had to do it, to save the others. I was stupid. I should have realized he wouldn’t send me back if they were sharks.’
‘But he sent you back knowing you were terrified. And so? Have you forgiven him?’
She said: ‘I understand him.’
‘What is your understanding?’
She took a breath.
‘In some ways he is insecure. In other ways he is a charming, mature, brilliant man. It is the insecure man who has the tantrums. Who sent me back into the water.’
‘Has he done similar things to you?’
‘Please, Jack. I’m only talking about the dolphin incident because Janet told you.’
He let it go, for the time being.
‘And does Max love you?’
‘Oh, yes. Of that I have no doubt.’
‘Or just want to possess you?’
‘Both. No doubt. But he certainly loves me, in his demanding way.’ She added: ‘He’s always had everything his own way, you see. Complete success. School. Business. High-finance. Everything. You were the only one who ever stood in his way for long.’
‘For long? Only for six months. Five years ago. Why is he still insecure?’
She said firmly: ‘It’s a long story, Jack. And I don’t want to tell it.’
He frowned. ‘Are you saying he’s impotent?’
‘He’s