Norrington set down the canvas-wrapped bundle of Admiralty Orders on the polished mahogany tabletop, his gaze lingering on the deep lustre and astonishing colour of the wood. A faint smell of turpentine and beeswax still clung to the smooth surface. Smiling slightly, he took it as a hint. He too would defend himself by being very highly polished.
"There isn't a great deal to tell," untying the ribbon he slid the folded papers out, fan-wise, to display their covering summaries. "We've lost the Nimrod and the Hebe to convoy duty, but their Lordships in their wisdom have sent us the Inconstant to replace them. It's an increase in broadside weight of well on a hundred and sixty pounds, but that's all that can be said for it."
He was a man of a certain age now, and some consequence, and he should not feel awkward, no matter the situation, so he straightened and turned to accept the glass of madeira from Governor Swann. It was a comfort that the Governor looked almost equally ill at ease. "I am to gather that getting a larger ship is a bad thing?"
"When you need to batter down an enemy's fortifications, or lie in the line of battle, yard arm to yard arm with a French two-decker, then the Inconstant is the ship for you." Some of the discomfort passed as Norrington turned his mind to the Admiralty's resolute failure to grasp the needs of pirate-hunting. He sipped the smoky, sweet wine and wondered if that was why Swann had asked the question. The Governor's apparent ingenuousness covered a remarkably wily mind.
"But to pursue pirates we need cutters, small frigates with speed and the shallow draught necessary to pass the same shoals and lie into the same anchorages as the pirates' sloops. As I have repeatedly written to their Lordships, urging them. The Dauntless is a beautiful ship, a well founded, weatherly, worthy ship, and I won't hear a word against her, but I had rather have two more like the Interceptor, than another such - oversized and ill-adapted to the task I have in hand."
He sighed, caught the indulgent smile on Swann's face and had to laugh. "Do I grow tedious?
"You have mentioned this once or twice before."
"Hm! And I'll stop when I've been heard."
Briefly Norrington allowed himself to believe that that was it. That they could now pretend that nothing had happened, that they could be easy once more. For he had a great regard for Swann, and he had been dreading this. But the pause went on too long. Swann put down his glass on the mantelpiece and smiled at the floor. Norrington returned his gaze to the table and gritted his teeth.
"James."
Please don't, he thought. Elizabeth had declared for Will, and he knew she could not be, should not be dissuaded from that. What was there to say? Apologies? Not from the father - he was blameless. The false hope of some scheme to talk her round? Worse than useless! Expressions of sympathy? Unbearable! What was there left to say that would not better be passed over in silence?
"Commodore Norrington... James. I don't wish to give offence, nor to criticize my daughter. Undoubtedly she knows her own heart best. But you must allow me to say that.. that for my own part, I should very much have liked to call you my son. I hope Elizabeth's choice may not occasion any coolness between us. I should hate you to think I valued you only as her suitor."
Norrington was very glad he was looking away already, but he shut his eyes to veil the fact that he was profoundly moved. What a kind, what a very touching thing to say! Not at all what he had expected. If anything, he had thought he would be hurried through the business and dismissed, now that he was become a mere common acquaintance.
"I.." he said, forcing himself through the barrier of shyness that still threatened to gag him whenever speaking of such matters, "Sir, I... am sensible of your great goodness to me. You do me too much honour." Looking up, he managed to focus on the grey curl of Swann's wig closest to his lopsided smile.
"Throughout our acquaintance I have always valued your council and wisdom, and I must say that it has been long now - my own being dead - since I first began to feel for you the affection due to a father. I know you will have Turner, but I hope you will always turn to me, should you need anything that another son can provide."
He looked away, drank a stiffening gulp of the madeira. The shadow of a cloud dimmed the blaze of window briefly, and Norrington registered that the wind was moving strongly sou-sou-west. There would be rain inland within the hour. Embarrassed as he was, he couldn't help but smile at it; astonished, self-conscious but happy. Whatever he had lost, it was something indeed - after ten years without - to have gained a father.
"Well then," said Swann at length, breaking the spell of unexpected intimacy with a small laugh. "Well... Good. So, the Admiralty expect us to do better, while taking away our means to do it, do they? Nothing new there then. As to this scheme of yours to tackle corruption in the drinking-water trade, let me tell you what our local grandees said." Walking over, he placed the decanter on the table in front of him, its silver and crystal reflecting mellow in the deep red surface. "Do have a seat - we may be here some time. You'll stay to dinner, of course?"
With the ease of an old friend, a new son, Norrington topped up his own glass and sat down. Pleasant as it was to have these things said, it was a relief to have them over; to be comfortably back to normal. "Yes," he said, still smiling, "I should like that very much. Thank you. Thank you indeed, sir, you're very kind."The End.
BACK
HOME