Medusa

I watched him as he greeted Soo, a little bow and a warm smile, his eyes travelling quickly over her body and fastening on her face, alert, watchful, sexually aware. The same watchfulness was there as she and Gareth greeted each other. It was obvious he was trying to make up his mind whether or not they had been lovers. She had assured me they had not, that it had been purely emotional. In retrospect, I see his problem. An emotional involvement did not concern him, only a physical one, particularly if the result were a child.

I had warned Soo that she would be virtually on show and that for Gareth’s sake, if not for mine, she should be on her guard. In the event, she carried it off perfectly, greeting Gareth with an easy friendliness, offering him her cheek, smiling and happy-looking as she congratulated him on having survived such a difficult assignment. She did it with just the right touch of intimacy and warmth. I was proud of her, and watching Wheatcroft, I saw him relax, then turn away to say something to Lovelock, the commander from Plans, who had also been monitoring the meeting between Soo and Gareth. He nodded, the down-turned corners of his mouth twisting themselves into an unaccustomed smile. He, too, seemed suddenly relaxed.

It was a very small party, Gareth the only one of Medusa’s officers present, Soo and myself the only civilians. The other guests were the admiral commanding the Spanish fleet, his flag officer, and Fernando Perez from the Naval Base with his wife Ramona. Afterwards, when I talked it over with Soo, I found she had come to the same conclusion I had, that Wheatcroft’s first objective in hosting such a very select little party was to take a look at her and check that it was safe for the Board to take the line it had virtually decided on.

His second objective was, of course, to make a short speech, largely for the benefit of the Spanish admiral and the commander of the Mahon Naval Base. For this he had arranged that Lieutenant Sykes should be waiting on deck so that the brief and very political speech he made was instantly translated into Spanish. And when he had finished, it was the Spanish admiral’s turn to make a little speech.

Whether the admiral had been briefed or not I do not know, but at the end of his speech, when we were all applauding, he brought from his pocket an ornate little case, went across to Gareth, and taking out a bright ribbon with a decoration suspended from it, hung it round his neck.

Poor Gareth! He had clearly had no warning of this. He stood there for a moment, a flush on his face and his mouth opening and closing, no words coming. Finally, in desperation, he gave a naval salute and murmured one word, ‘G-gracias.’

I thought that was the end of it. I think we all did. But then Julian Wheatcroft stepped forward again and said, ‘There is something else I wish to say.’ Victor Sykes was again translating the English into Spanish and I believe his continued presence to have been deliberate, ensuring as it did that the gist of everything that was being said would pass round the ship. ‘Normally the findings of a Board of Enquiry are confidential and only revealed later when an announcement is made as to whether or not a court martial will result. However, the risks that Lieutenant Commander Lloyd Jones, his officers and men accepted and faced make the circumstances of Medusa’s grounding quite extra-ordinary.’ He separated the words out so that they had the older, stronger meaning. ‘And because I was very conscious that any recommendations I might make might be overturned, I’ve spent much of today in an exchange of signals with CINCFLEET and the Ministry of Defence. I may say that the Board was quite unanimous in its view that court martial proceedings were inappropriate in this case and I now have a directive — ’ and here his voice became very formal and deliberate — ‘from the Secretary of State for Defence, approved personally by the Prime Minister, that in the exceptional and unprecedented circumstances of the grounding it has been decided to rule out any question of a court martial.’

He paused there, then moved a step or two towards Gareth. ‘I, too, have a gift for you. It is not, I’m afraid, as valuable or as beautiful as the decoration with which you have been honoured by the King of Spain. It was given to me just before I left London. It is from 10 Downing Street, a personal letter from the Prime Minister to you, and to all those serving on board HMS Medusa.’ The long envelope in his hand, he stepped forward, handed it to Gareth, then took a step back and gave him a magnificent salute.