accommodation was intact and that earlier that morning, he had noticed
the girl standing beside David Allen in the stern of the work boat as it
returned from the liner, with a large suitcase at her feet. She had
been to fetch her gear and she probably should have stayed aboard the
liner. Nick was pleased she had not.
Nick finished his little speech, having mentioned every one of his
officers by name and given to each the praise they deserved, and David
Allen pressed another large whisky into his one hand and an inelegant
wedge of cake into the other, and then left hurriedly to join the tight
circle around the girl. It opened reluctantly, yielding to his
seniority and Nick found himself almost deserted.
He watched with indulgence the open competition for her attention.
She was shorter than any of them, so Nick saw only the top of that
magnificent mane of sun-streaked hair, hair the colour of precious
metal. that shone as she nodded and tilted her head, catching the
overhead lights.
Beauty Baker was on one side of her, dressed in a readymade suit of
shiny imitation sharkskin that made a startling contrast to his plaid
shirt and acid-yellow tie; the trousers of the suit needed hoisting
every few minutes and his spectacles glittered lustfully as he hung over
the girl.
David Allen was close on her other side, blushing pinkly every time she
turned to speak to him, plying her with cake and liquor - and Nick found
his indulgence turning to irritation.
He was irritated by the presence of a tongue-tied fourth officer who had
clearly been delegated to entertain him, and was completely awed by the
responsibility. He was irritated by the antics of his senior officers.
They were behaving like a troupe of performing seals in their
competition for the girl's attention.
For a few moments, the tight circle around her opened, and Nick was left
with a few vivid impressions - The green of her dress matched exactly
the brilliant sparkling green of her eyes. Her teeth were very white,
and her tongue as pink as a cat's when she laughed. She was not the
child he had imagined from their earlier encounters; with colour touched
to her lips and pearls at her throat, he realized she was in her
twenties, early twenties perhaps, but a full woman, nevertheless.
She looked across the wardroom and their eyes met. The laughter stilled
on her lips, and she returned his gaze. It was a solemn enigmatic gaze,
and he found himself once again regretting his previous rudeness to her.
He dropped his gaze from hers and saw now that under the clinging green
material, her body was slim and beautifully formed, with a lithe
athletic grace. He remembered vividly that one nude glimpse he had been
given.
Although the green dress was high-necked, he saw that her breasts were
large and pointed, and that they were not trussed by any undergarments;
the young shapely flesh was as strikingly arresting as if it had been
naked.
It made him angry to see her body displayed in this manner. It did not
matter that every young girl in the streets of New York or London went
