Page 116 of The Ship of Brides
Emmett was pulling at his jacket with one hand, while the other rubbed his temple. ‘What the hell are you doing, Nicol? You’ve got to get upstairs,’ he was saying. ‘To the muster stations. Got to get the brides into the boats. Jesus Christ, man! Look at the state of you.’
It was then that he became aware of the alarm, and was surprised he had not noticed it before. Perhaps the ringing in his ears had drowned it.
‘It’s centre engine, Tims,’ the young stoker was shouting. ‘Shit, we’re in trouble.’
The fight was forgotten.
‘What happened?’ Tims was on his feet now, leaning over the younger man. A long cut ran down his cheek. Nicol, struggling to his feet, wondered whether he had bestowed it.
‘I don’t know.’
‘What have you done?’ Tims’s huge, bloodied hand shot out and gripped the boy’s shoulder.
‘I – I don’t know. I took five minutes to go and see the girls. Then I went back down and the whole bloody passage was filled with smoke.’
‘Did you shut it off? Did you close the hatch?’
‘I don’t know – there was too much smoke. I couldn’t even get past the bomb room.’
‘Shit!’ Tims looked at Nicol. ‘I’ll head down there.’
‘Anyone else in centre engine?’
Tims shook his head, wincing. ‘No. The Artificer had gone off. It was just the damn fool boy.’ The first wisp of smoke found its way into the men’s nostrils, prompting a short, loaded silence.
‘It’s the captain,’ said Tims. ‘He’s jinxed, that Highfield. He’ll do for us all.’
21
A is for ARMYof which we are fond,
B is for BRIDESboth brunette and blonde,
C is for COURAGEthey had lots,
D is for DISTANCEwe covered by knots,
E is for ENDEAVOURto give of our best,
F is for FORTITUDEput to the test...
Ida Faulkner, war bride, quoted inForces Sweethearts,
Wartime Romance from the First World War
to the Gulf, Joanna Lumley
The stoker firefighter emerged from the black smoke with the faltering steps of a blind man, one hand still clutching his hose, the other outstretched, waiting for the grasp that would pull him to safety. His smoke helmet was blackened, and the hands that reached forward to pull it off his head discovered, with burned fingers, how hot it was.
Green coughed and wiped soot from his eyes, then straightened and faced his captain. ‘Beaten back, sir. We’ve closed all the hatches we can, but it’s spread to the starboard engine room. Drenching system hasn’t worked.’ He coughed black phlegm on to the floor, then looked up again, eyes white in his sooty face. ‘I don’t think it’s reached the main feed tank, because it would have blown out the machine control room.’
‘Foamite?’ said the captain.
‘Too late for that, sir. It’s no longer just a fuel fire.’
Around him the team of marines and stokers, the naval firefighters, stood ready, clutching hoses and fire extinguishers, waiting for the orders that would send them in.
It had often been said of Highfield, onIndomitable, that he knew the location of every room, every compartment, every hold in his floating city without ever having to examine a map. Now he mentally traced the possible route of the fire through her sister ship. ‘Do we know which way it’s headed?’
