‘I heard some of the most extraordinary rumours. What actually happened?’
‘Oh, it was chronic. Burton, my Number One, was nearly a raving lunatic over it, and hasn’t been the same man since. It quite broke the poor chap down. He’d been trying to mix the right shade for days, and thought he really had hit on it at last. It was all mixed in a whopping great tub ready for slapping on in the morning, and the whole bally lot disappeared during the night.’
‘Great Scott! What the devil happened to it?’
‘Prepare for a shock and I’ll break it to you gently. It had been dumped, jettisoned, thrown over the side, mark you, by an “’ostility only” bloke wot thort it was dirty water, sir, please!’
‘My poor old Jinks. No wonder he wears a careworn look.’
‘All very well for you to laugh, Austin, but it’s these little things that are the bane of one’s existence in the destroyer trade. Upsets of this sort and submarines are about on a par with one another.’
‘We ought to be ready by now,’ said Raymond, rising and going over to the scuttle. ‘Seagrave has been up since dewy dawn getting ready. Yes,’ he continued, looking over his shoulder, ‘he seems to be having a high old time of it by himself, and by the looks of things we’re all ready when you are.’
‘Right-oh. I shove off at eight-thirty, don’t I?’
‘I haven’t had a “dummy run” for ages,’ grumbled Austin. ‘The owner thinks I’m so proficient I don’t need any more, I expect.’
‘Oh, no, my friend,’ laughed Raymond. ‘You’re not his blue-eyed boy by a long chalk. It’s common knowledge that you made such a fiasco of your last one that he doesn’t like to trust you again.’