A Friendly Demonstration
Chapter 61
Jen and Mattie settled down on the couch for a cosy afternoon in front of Jen's TV; Jen had loaded the DVD player with a copy of 'Private Benjamin', starring Goldie Hawn and the pair were quickly subsiding into fits of giggles and outright laughter at the actress and supporting cast's antics, all specifically designed to showcase her comic genius, and much, as Jen pointed out to Mattie to the detriment of the US Army – "Well, their recruiting programme, anyway!" she chuckled.
"You mean, it's not really like that?" Mattie asked innocently.
A little too innocently for Jen's liking, and she shot a suspicious glance at her young friend, "Of course it's not like that – no army, not even the US Army – could possibly function like that! But… you knew that, didn't you, pain?"
Mattie threw up her hands in surrender, "Yeah, I guess I did, I was just trying to see how much disgust you could put into your voice when you mentioned the Army."
"Oh… You don't actually despise the Army," Jen acknowledged, "But you can't help feeling just a little sorry for them!"
"Jennifer Coates, you are such a Navy snob!" Mattie gurgled.
"Well… Yeah, I guess so…" Jen smilingly admitted.
"M'mm… makers me wonder how come you hooked up with a Marine," Mattie said slyly.
Jen gave Mattie a slightly watered down version of 'the look' before she half smiled and said softly, "Oh, that was because The Captain and then Harriett Roberts claimed he was house-trained!"
"And is he?" a completely unabashed teenager grinned.
"Definitely…" Jen tutted with exasperation and reached for the remote control, "Now, with all this talking we've missed about ten minutes of the movie. Hold on I'm going to have to rewind it!"
"Oh… Okay… so I'll just shut up, shall I?" Mattie asked in an angelic voice.
"Good choice, but don't gild the lily!" Jen warned her through a chuckle.
The next forty minutes or so passed in comparative silence apart from the crunching of popcorn and the slurping of the dregs of Mattie's soda as she sucked up the last of the drink through a straw, until the end credits rolled, and Jen clicked the remote control to darken the screen and close down the DVD player.
"Well…?" She queried Mattie.
"Yeah, okay, it was funny in a goofy kind of way… but, there are a couple of things…" Mattie's voice tailed off into silence.
"Go on," Jen encouraged her.
"Yeah, well, right at the beginning when her new husband dropped dead on his wedding night, when they were… well, you know… I mean can that really happen?"
"Yeah, if the guy's not in good shape or he has a weak heart…" Jen grinned, "But most guys manage okay…"
"Uh-huh, and what was that about guilting a lily?"
Jen had to think furiously for a minute or two and then her brow cleared, "Oh… that's from the Bible… and it's 'gilding' the lily, not 'guilting' it. It means that if something's good, then it doesn't need extra… well extra anything… And that's what I meant when you were acting all innocent, don't overkill!"
"How come you knew that?" Mattie asked.
"Dearest Daddy was a preacher," Jen gently reminded the teenager.
"Oh… yeah… I forgot. So he made you memorise the Bible as well as dress like a dork?"
"No, the dorkiness bit, yeah. But he didn't make me memorise the Bible, it's just if you spend fourteen years alongside someone who never stops quoting it, then you get to where you can't help but remember things!" Jen's expression and her voice both darkened as she spoke, and Mattie felt the pang of guilt.
"Crap, Jen, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you – especially today – your birthday," she hurriedly added.
"Well… First off, despite your language, young lady, it's great to have you here Mats, I really mean that, but I just wish Victor, once he'd found it was my birthday hadn't had to go into the embassy…"
"Yeah, he's been gone a while, it's getting really dark out there now…" Mattie said uncomfortably.
"Oh… he'll be back in time to get you home safely. No matter what else he's got going on he's a bit like Ha… like the Captain… as far as they are both concerned, a promise is a promise. And he did promise to get you home by twenty-one thirty hours!
"Oh, I know that!" Mattie affirmed, but to Jen's ears the younger girl didn't really sound convinced. "But I like Victor, and I just wish he could have stayed around for a bit longer…"
"M'mm… You're right, it is getting later, and he didn't say what time he'd be home. Well, we had a good lunch.. and as we don't know when he'll be back, I guess I'll just make a big pile of sandwiches, so they're ready for us all when he finally does put in an appearance!"
"Good thinking Batgirl! Mattie grinned, grabbing her crutches and levering herself to her feet, wincing a little as she did so. "I'll give you a hand!"
Mattie's wince, fleeting though it was, had been spotted by Jen, "Mattie! Are your legs and back hurting?"
"Oh… no… um… it's my hands…These crutch handles are hard, and I've got all my weight pressing on them, so my hands are a bit sore…"
"Let me see… Yeah, they are a bit red and swollen… Stay off your feet as much as possible and tomorrow tell your nurse… what's her name?"
"Heather… Her name's Heather."
"Right, well I'll bet that just like most nurses she may not be as qualified as a board certified surgeon, but I'll bet she's got plenty of common sense and nursing know-how and she'll be able to come up with an idea or two to make life a little more comfortable for you. But right now, come and sit at the kitchen top and you can butter the bread! We've got cheese, ham, cold chicken and some salad greens, so I reckon that ought to be enough for light dinner, don't you?"
"Wow! I guess so!" Mattie grinned, easing onto one of the kitchen chairs.
"So… Your birthday's next… any plans?" Jen asked as she sliced some of the cold chicken.
"Um… I'm betting on therapy, and being prodded and poked and strapped into one of those dam… uh… darned machines!" Mattie grumped.
Jen shook her head sadly, "For the Lord's sake Mattie don't start swearing round the Captain, or Captain Shephard. They'll blame me!"
"Oh, I do try Jen, but sometimes, I just get so ticked off with the whole thing…"
"Yeah, I know it's got to be tough, but if you want the academy, then this is the route you're going to have to take!"
"Yeah, I know…" Then a thought occurred to Mattie, "Hey, Jen… a couple of times this afternoon you've called Harm the Captain, instead of just by his name like you used to do back in DC – well, when you weren't in the office…"
"Ah, he was lowly Commander then," Jen grinned, arranging slices of meat on the buttered bread that Mattie had prepared. "Now, he's a Captain… full of Captainish dignity, and a mere E6 just doesn't get to call a Captain by his name. It's only one ring up from a Commander, but a Captain's rank has one heck of a lot more prestige and dignity than a Commander. It' practically a given that a Captain, unless he screws the pooch really badly, will make at least Rear Admiral, Lower Half… and in our Captain's case, it wouldn't surprise me to see just a few years down the track, being appointed as US Navy and Marine Corps JAG!"
What, if anything, Mattie was going to reply was lost as the two women heard a key turn in the lock and a windblown and chilled looking Victor Galindez, awkwardly backed into the apartment, his hands full, he used his hip to swing the door wide enough to enter and walking across to the kitchen area he dropped two of the plastic carrier bags favoured by British Stores onto the worktop.
"You've been shopping!" Jen accused him, "And you told us you were going to the office!"
"Oh, I did. I did go to the office, but I made a fifteen minute stop on the way home…"
"Oh, I like that; when you say 'home'," Jen smiled.
"Yeah, well, anyway, seeing as how you kept your birthday a secret from me, I didn't have time to get you a present… but I did get…" Victor paused, playing the moment for all it was worth… "Cake!"
"Wow! Cake!" Mattie enthused, "Way to go!"
"And ice-cream!" Victor added with a knowing smile at the copper-haired girl. "And because there is no way that Jen or I would let you drink champagne, I even bought a case of ginger ale!"
Jen slipped up behind him and passed her arms round him, resting her head against the back of his shoulder, "Thanks, Victor, but you needn't have bothered…"
Victor twisted around to face Jen, his hands resting on the swell of her hips, "Hey, what's a birthday without cake and ice cream, especially as it's a caramel whirl ice cream, which is about the nearest I could find to good old 'Murrican toffee fudge!"
"Is it as good though?" Mattie asked, being still slightly suspicious of some of the items sold in British stores.
"It will be delicious" Jen affirmed, "Seeing as how Victor bought it especially for my birthday!" She leaned in and swiftly grazed his lips with hers before dropping back on to her heels with a smile before adding, "Not that he needed to! I am still looking forward to the Corps Birthday Dinner as my main treat – but I am going to enjoy this anyway!"
With that Victor took the bottle of champagne out of the fridge and cocked an inquiring eye at Jen, who nodded approvingly and then turned away to the crockery stowage and produced three dessert bowls and three plates and spoons to go with them. "Come on! I've made all these sandwiches as well – so it looks like there's going to be a birthday party after all… Although, there is just one item missing," she added mournfully.
"And that would be?" Victor asked, his whole body language showing that he was relaxed and enjoying the minor sensation he had brought about.
"Why, there's no lime jell-o!" Jen said mournfully.
Mattie and Victor exchanged stunned looks before bursting into disbelieving shouts of laughter. The laughter dying away, a still smiling Victor opened a bottle of ginger ale for Mattie, and showing a familiarity with the process he carefully opened the champagne, and although Mattie cringed in her seat, expecting a flying cork an d an eruption of gaseous liquid, neither of these undesirable events took place and Victor poured a glass each for himself and Jen, before saying gravely, "Happy birthday, Jennifer."
Jen smiled back, her full concentration, just for the moment being firmly fixed on Victor, "It is Victor, one of the happiest in a long time! Thanks to you…" and then as if suddenly remembering the teenager's presence added, "And to you too, Mattie!"
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Harm and Gill had spent a busy morning, involving multiple load of clothing and bed linen being loaded into the washing machines, and both giving silent thanks to the powers above that the utility room was not only big enough for both washing machine and tumble dryer, but also had a multi-rung airer suspended from the ceiling. It was as Harm remarked, "A filthy job – but somebody's got to do it!"
"M'mm…" Gill agreed as she carefully hung three of her deliberately left damp blouses on plastic coated hangers which were them hooked onto the airer. "Still," she continued, "I suppose that working in civvies does have its advantages – we don't have to go to ridiculous lengths in pressing shirts and blouses to military perfection."
"This time of year that's true." Harm agreed, "But wait until summer when I have to wear whites in the office. That could be up to three shirts in a day – as well as a couple of pairs of pants – and the worst thing is, they make us look like damned ice-cream sellers!"
Gill giggled, "Stop me and buy one?" she suggested.
Harm just gave her a blank look, not picking up on the reference.
"It's what they used to have sign-written on the side of mobile ice-cream vans," Gill explained.
"Well…" Harm looked at his watch, "It's a little too late in the year for ice-cream vans… but I reckon it's just coming up the time of day when lunch would go down well… We're done here, right?"
"Yes, until some of the linen is ready for ironing!" Gill twinkled.
"Yeah, and that's something I'm really looking forward to – not!" Harm grimaced.
"Well, never mind, we can split that job between us… but you mentioned lunch? What did you have in mind? I have a fancy for something warm…"
"Soup and grilled cheese sandwiches?" Harm suggested.
Gill laughed, "As long as we don't have to have a food fight first!"
"Oh I think we can straight to the food and forget about the fight – this time!" Harm grinned, but there was a certain glint in his eye that imbued Gill with a certain amount of caution.
In the event her fears were not realised and twenty minutes after leaving the utility room the couple were sat at the kitchen table, each with a bowl of Harm's home-made tomato and orange soup, and a plate of toasted cheese sandwiches in front of them.
At length, Gill put down her spoon and used a corner of one of her sandwiches to wipe the last drops of soup from her bowl, "M'mm…" she sighed appreciatively as she swallowed the last of her meal, "That was good! In fact…" her voice took on a mildly teasing tone that caused Harm to raise an eyebrow, "In fact, it was so good, I think I'll keep you around for a while!"
"Ah…that's the attraction, is it?" Harm teased her back, "You just want me for my culinary expertise – and I always thought that the way to a man's heart was through his stomach!"
Gill shook her head in mock sorrow, "You really do need to evolve beyond the dinosaur stage… haven't you ever heard of equal opportunity?"
"Oh, I've evolved way beyond the dinosaur epoch – why I'm right up into the caveman era now!" Harm growled as he stood, the light of battle in his eyes.
Gill hastily scrambled to her feet, "Oh… no… no… Harm…"
"Oh, Gill… oh, yes, yes, Gill!" Harm declared sweeping her up into his arms and silencing her protests with a kiss that set her knees to shaking so that Gill was forced to throw her arms around his neck in an effort to stay upright.
"Oh… you are sooo bad…" she moaned once they came up for air.
Harm grinned, "Yeah, and I'm good at it too!"
"Good at being bad?" Gill queried, and then tilted her head back so that she could look up into his eyes, "Yes, you are!"
"So… are we going to take this further?" Harm suggested.
Gill look tempted but then sadly shook her head, "No… best not… there is something I absolutely have to do…"
"Oh?" Harm asked in surprise.
Gill nodded, "And now's about the right time, Sunday Dinner should be just about over at home… and we do need to alert them to our changed status!"
Harm winced, "Is that going to be very awkward?"
Gill nodded, "It might be… but I've a feeling that if Granny is on our side then Mummy won't be too far behind – it's daddy, with his idea that I'm still a little… an innocent little girl! But anyway, it won't be as awkward as me not telling them and them finding out later!
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Gill gulped as she and Harm walked through to the lounge and took their seats on the couch, where with an inquiring look at Harm, and receiving his nod, Gill gingerly picked up the desk telephone, and drawing in a steadying breath, she tapped in the well-remembered number for the Vicarage at Dinton, almost hoping that her family had decided to dine out this afternoon and that there would be no-one at home. Of course, that was a forlorn hope. Granny would have insisted on a proper home-cooked Sunday dinner; as Gill was well aware, it was the ritual aspect of that once-weekly meal that appealed to her grandmother rather than just the food on the table.
Sure enough, the phone was answered at the fourth ring, and Jack Shephard's warm voice resounded in his daughter's ears, "The Vicarage…"
"Hello, Daddy, it's Gill…"
"Hello stranger," her father's voice took on a slightly teasing note, "What sort of emergency brings you to break your usual rule about not contacting us for months on end?"
"Daddy, please, this is serious…"
"Serious?" The teasing note was gone and parental concern took its place.
"Yes, Daddy… oh, it's nothing life threatening, but I do need to give you all a heads up… Are you in the lounge or in your study?"
"I'm in the lounge… and getting some very peculiar looks from your grandmother and your mother…"
Gill let out a small sigh of relief, at least they were all there together and she wouldn't have to withstand repeated barrages of similar questions. "Could you put the phone on speaker, please, Daddy. What I have to say you all need to hear…"
"Now… this does sound serious!" Jack Shephard replied rather sharply, "Hang on!" There followed a muted 'click' and then Gill heard her father's seemingly slightly disembodied voice, "Go on, Gillian."
"Well… Daddy, Mummy, Granny… it's about Harm and I…"
Granny's voice cut in sharply, "Judging from your tone of voice, you're not calling to tell he's proposed and that you've accepted?"
"No, Granny… But… we… well… we have moved things up a notch…"
"And?" Gill's mother's voice lacked the sharpness of her mother-in-law's, but there was a definite tinge of anxiety to be heard, even through the distortion of the speaker phone.
"Um… well… I've… uh… sort of moved in with him… on a full time basis…" Gill almost gulped the words out.
"Oh, you have, have you?" Jack Shephard demanded almost pugnaciously and then it seemed to Gill that he sat back and relaxed, as he added in a much milder tone, "Well… given the way things are today, I suppose we should have suspected something like this might happen… Oh, tempore, oh mores!" he finished with the hint of a lament in his voice.
"Oh, hush up Jack, do!" Granny's voice cut into her son's, but then in a milder tome she addressed her granddaughter, "And you're obviously, quite, quite sure about this?" she asked.
"Oh… absolutely, Granny! Harm is… well… he's incredible… kind, gentle, loving… he's everything I ever wanted in a man…" Gill couldn't help but grin at the alarm and embarrassment that flooded Harm's face as she pronounced her encomium.
"So… you're doing this for the right reasons?" Alice Shephard asked. "Not just to provide a female companion to his Mattie?"
"That's our Mattie, and no, no such thing, Mummy. Mattie needs professional help more than family help at the moment. You may not have noticed, but she's a remarkably self-possessed young lady… but she needs loads of physio, and I can't provide that. But I can provide ordinary familial support – after duty hours of course!"
"Well… if you're quite sure…" Alice Shephard's voice trailed off into uncertainty.
"Of course she's sure!" Granny Shephard snapped incisively. "Gillian Anne Shephard may be a bit of a ninny hammer now and then, but I've always given her credit for knowing exactly what she wants!"
"Perhaps…" Jack Shephard agreed, "But Gillian… do you have any plans to ah… ah… formalise your relationship?"
Gill shot startled eyes towards Harm, who had been following the conversation intently, only to see the same sort of almost horrified surprise in his eyes that she herself felt.
Harm was not only surprised, but he was a little irritated too. He had, he thought, firmly tabled that discussion at the recent Sunday dinner at the Vicarage, when he had coolly made the point that if he and Gill decided to 'formalise' their relationship, then it would be according to their wishes and plans and according to their own agenda. He was not prepared to allow anyone – including his own mother – to pressure him into taking even a single a step forward until he was ready. And as much as he could be, he was certain of his feelings for Gill, but that did not mean he was going to be led to the altar like a prize bull with a ring in his nose.
Surprisingly it was Alice Shephard who poured the prophylactic oil on what promised to become a stormy sea, "Jack, darling, I'm sure that Gill and Harm thought this through very carefully before they decided on taking such a big step, and quite frankly, as long as Gill is happy, then I don't really care what her domestic arrangements are – provided that certain things follow a natural course!"
A snorted "H'mph!" was all the answer that Gill's aggrieved father managed at first, but then he followed it with a sigh of resignation, "Well… what's done is done, and this genie can't be put back in the lamp!"
"Don't hate us, Daddy," Gill implored him.
"Hate you Hate you and Harm? No… I could never do that, but I can hate what you've done!" Jack Shephard retorted.
"That's right!" Anne Shephard intervened once more, "Hate the sin if you must – but not the sinner!"
"True, Alice Shephard added. Then in a voice of great practicality she continued, "Well… what's done is done, and of you are happy then as far as I'm concerned, there's an end to it! Now… are you planning to come see us at any time in the near future?"
Gill shot a startled glance at Harm, who raised his eyebrows in surprise and then spreading his hands signified that he had no objection in principle.
"Yes… I think we'd better… how about next weekend?"
"Fine, we'll expect you for lunch on Sunday, then!" Anne Shephard laid down the law.
"Yes, Granny," Gill answered meekly enough.
"Oh, yes – and bring that delightful child with you. I'm sure if she's had a week of physiotherapy then she'll be glad of a little relaxation!"
"I'm sure she will, Granny!" Gill replied, injecting as much enthusiasm into her voice as she could, but wondering when she, Harm and Mattie made it to Dinton there would be much relaxation, or whether the air would be full of recriminations.
"That's settled, then!" Granny said fiercely in her 'I will stand no nonsense' tone. "We'll see you at about one o'clock on Sunday afternoon! So, goodbye now, darling!"
"Yes, goodbye Granny, Daddy, Mummy… remember I do love you!"
"Of course you do!" came her father's gruff voice. "Take care, and we'll see you next Sunday!"
Gill put the phone down with a sigh of relief and turned to Harm. Sher had a smile on her face, but there as a hint of worry about her eyes, "That went well, I thought!" she commented trying to inject some humour into the tense atmosphere.
"Ya think?"
"Oh, it could have been a lot worse – but at least we seem to have Granny on side… and Mummy too!"
Harm studied her shrewdly, "Come here," he suggested.
"Why?" Gill asked, but she was already edging along the couch towards him.
"So I can kiss those worry lines away from your forehead," Harm said matter of factly, as if it was the most natural thing in the world – which of course to him, it was!
The kisses turned into a sweet session without the urgency of passion and Gill was quite content after the drama of telling her family their news, to stay sheltered in Harm's warm, comforting and protecting embrace, and so they stayed on the couch in comfortable silence, broken only now and then with another brief round of kisses, until Harm with a regretful sigh suggested that it was time to get back to work. "There are still beds to be made down, and then it's getting on for the time when I ought to be thinking about getting dinner ready. And I think I'll make a little special effort this evening."
"Oh, why?"
"Well… firstly, because it's going to be dinner for two – I can't see Mattie getting back here more than about a minute before her curfew, and secondly, and most importantly to say thank you to you and show that I recognise how much moral courage it took to brave your family like that! So… have you any preferences?"
"Pizza?" Gill suggested with a wicked glint in her eye,
"Pizza? Really?" Harm asked in shock.
"No… Not pizza," Gill confessed, her fingers playing with one of the buttons on his shirt, "But if we've got the ingredients, how about roasted vegetable with that red cabbage and apples you do so well?"
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Harm's prophecy was accurate almost to the minute as it was a shade after twenty-one twenty-five hours that Mattie's key could be heard in the lock and her exuberant shout of "Make a hole!" was followed by the rumble of wheels as she propelled herself up the ramp and into the hall. "Yay! Made it in one!" she exulted, and then looking up and to her right said, "Victor, thank you very much for bringing me home! I really enjoyed today, thanks a whole heap!"
"Hey, you're very welcome, Little Miss Trouble!" Victor allowed himself a half-smile as he offered to return Mattie's keys to her.
"No, seriously, Victor, you must have wanted more than that one measly glass of champagne!"
"Well, yeah, but Jen popped the cork back into the bottle and put the bottle back into the fridge, so, now that you're home safe and sound, I just figure I'll head on back to Jen's and help her deal with the rest of that wine – Oh, Captain, sir!" Victor assumed a brace as Harm walked into the hall from the dining room. "Jen – uh Legalman One Coates says to make sure that I thank you, on her behalf, for the wine and the card, sir!"
"Good evening, First Sergeant! Thanks for bringing the Squirt home. I trust she behaved herself and didn't give you any trouble?"
"None, at all, sir. Unfortunately I had some duty to attends to after lunch, and I left Jen – uh Legalman One Coates – and Miss Rabb watching some sort of chick flick, but I was able to get back to them in time for dinner, and we had a pretty good time of it, didn't we, Pain?" he addressed his last remark to Mattie.
"We sure did, Victor. I just wish that Jen had given you more notice of her birthday…"
"Yeah, we could have done something really nice for her," Victor agreed, but was then surprised when Mattie gave a determined shake of her head.
"Y'know, I get the feeling that Jen thought today was just about perfect – so you needn't worry about not having gilded the lily! And of course there's the Corps birthday coming up, and she's really looking forward to that!"
Harm had stood, leaning against the wall, listening to the exchange between Mattie and Victor, but at this he interrupted their flow of talk, "First Sergeant are you trying to corrupt my Legalman?" he asked in humorous challenge.
"No, sir!" Victor replied smartly, "Just trying to prevent myself being corrupted by the Navy!"
"Good answer, First Sergeant!" Harm grinned.
"Yeah, I thought so, too, sir! But now sir, by your leave?"
"Of course! Good night – and thanks once more for acting as cabbie for this one!"
"It was my pleasure, sir." And for an instant the iron-face of the Marine cracked into a real grin, "Goodnight, Mattie! And thanks for looking after Jen for me!"
Harm and Mattie waited by the still open door until Victor climbed back into his Peugeot and drew away from the kerb and then just as Harm swung the door shut, he saw out of the corner of his eye that Mattie was attempting to disguise a yawn. "Tired, Mats?" he guessed.
"M'mm… just a little…"
"Well…" Harm cocked his head to one side and made a show of listening, "It sounds to me like Gill is in the kitchen, making us all a drink… so if you're not too tired for that, then how does a cup of chocolate sound before you hit your rack?"
Mattie spun her chair in its own length and faced it towards the lounge, but paused to look up and back over her shoulder, "Sounds good to me!" she grinned.
"Okay… lay on MacDuff!" Harm grinned.
"That still sounds so wrong!" Mattie laughingly complained as she pushed on the wheel grips heading for the lounge and the promised hot chocolate.
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Harm sat at the kitchen table, his face fixed in a scowl of irritation. Heather had turned to for work, punctual to the minute and was engaged in assisting a breakfasted Mattie in preparing for the day's excursion to Stoke Mandeville. He just hoped that the copper-haired teenager had everything she needed for the day's activities. Gill had left the house, headed for Stanmore and the day's duty. And he too should have by now have left the house, but his damned driver was late! A glance at his watch showed that the damned girl – Hawkes – was nearly forty minutes adrift. It just wasn't good enough. A friend to her aunt he might be, but she would have to learn that when he said that he was to be collected from his quarters at zero seven hundred, then he meant zero seven hundred, not zero even forty plus how many more minutes it would take for the absent driver to finally present herself. And when she did, then by God, he was going to leave her in no doubt as to his feelings about punctuality. But as that thought crossed his mind he couldn't prevent a wry smile; this was beginning very much to look like a case of the pot calling the kettle black as he recalled his own, earlier reputation for being somewhat unpunctual – and having earned the wrath of his superiors for that very same fault! But still… he was now a Captain in the Navy and his orders just could not be ignored.
Fortunately for his rising blood pressure he caught sight of the Navy sedan, through the window, pulling to halt outside and with a muttered "At last!" sprung to his feet and grabbed his briefcase from the table he strode to open the front door, where he was confronted by the tiny figure of PFC Hawkes, but a PFC who was distinctly damp and looked pinched and cold.
He eyed her severely, "You're late!" he snapped.
Hawkes stiffened into a brace, "Yes, sir! Sorry, sir!"
"Sorry doesn't quite cut it Hawkes!" he growled as he closed the door behind him as he moved past her down the ramp, in a hurry to get out the rain and cold of a wintry November morning.
"No, sir!" Hawkes almost stuttered as she increased speed to get into the lead and open the car door for her chief.
But Harm wasn't finished yet. Casting a disparaging look at her appearance, he added, "And what the hell have you been up to? You're normally neat and tidy, what's going on Hawkes? Because if your appearance and tardiness is the result of some sort of weekend shenanigans, you can expect to be back in your platoon before the end of the day!"
"Sir!" was the only answer the helpless Hawkes could come up with.
"No! That doesn't cut it either!" Harm shot back, "So just what the hell is going on with you Hawkes?"
Hawkes waited until Harm had seated himself and then slipped behind the wheel, but instead of starting the car's engine, she stared bleakly ahead, "Permission to speak freely, sir?"
Harm nearly blinked in surprise, he hadn't been expecting that sort of answer, but…"If you feel you must!"
"Sir…" Hawkes turned her face towards him and Harm immediately felt ashamed of himself for being a bully as he saw that her eyes, so much like her aunt's were swimming with unshed tears, but before he could respond, even internally, to that feeling, Hawkes was talking, "Sir, honestly it's not my fault… not being late, nor my filthy state!"
This time Harm did blink, of course it was her damn fault! She was an adult, a Marine, responsible for everything she did, but…"How do you mean?" he asked coldly, not liking the whining edge he thought he heard creeping into the young woman's voice.
"Sir… I turned up at the motor pool, like every day at zero six fifty, but the place was still locked up… There were about half a dozen drivers and motor pool hands all standing around, getting wet and cold," she added bitterly. "We had to wait nearly half an hour before the PO in charge of the motor pool turned up with the keys and then… well… then we had to wait while he issued us the vehicle keys and documents and then it's run the daily routine check on the vehicle… and I did get to you as fast as I could, sir…"
"So…" For a moment or two Harm was silent and then a random memory flashed through his mind… A couple of months ago, Martinez had been adrift in picking him up in the morning, and he had ripped her a new one for her sins… but maybe… just maybe he should have done a little investigation before jumping to conclusions… but then again why hadn't the damned woman told him that she was adrift through no fault of her own? And once again the answer came hard on the heels of the question; Martinez hadn't made any complaints, or excuses, she had taken her lumps and got on with the job. His estimation of his Yeoman went up a notch… she hadn't prevaricated or tried to pass the buck… but he wasn't being entirely fair to Hawkes in this case, either. Hawkes was, he guessed, five or six years younger than Martinez, and possibly hadn't yet grown the necessary thickness of hide to withstand what she might consider to be unfair or unjust criticism from a superior.
Harm nodded. He would get to the bottom of this, and if it turned out that Hawkes was telling the truth and the Motor Pool Petty Officer's MO was of habitual lateness, then the excreta was about to impact the air conditioning!
"Okay, Hawkes, we'll leave it at that for the moment… but we've lost enough time already this morning, so let's get going, hey?"
"Yes sir! Of course! I… I don't know what I was thinking…" Hawkes voice tailed off as she determinedly turned the engine and selected 'drive', allowing the sedan to pull smoothly away from the kerbside.
However, as the Navy issue car purred away, Harm saw another, black, car pull over outside the Davenports' house and after a few seconds, he caught a glimpse over his shoulder of two RAF Officers in service dress blues walk up the footpath to the front door. An icy hand settled around his heart as he was sure that one of the officers was wearing a chaplain's dog collar.
xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx
Harm's mood wasn't best improved by the traffic snags they hit on the route to the embassy – occasioned solely by the late departure from Northolt, but he realised that Hawkes was trying her best to cop with the situation, and anyway, he reflected, it wasn't really her fault in the first place – that is if she hadn't committed an offence by making a false statement. Well, he could soon sort that out!
So it was in the same determined state of mind, added to the niggle of what he still suspected to the visit of a Casualty Assistance Team to the Davenports, he almost stormed into the office, irritably waving off the call for the bull pen to come to attention, and being almost as equally curt with his Legalman and Yeoman, vouchsafing them a curt, "Good morning!" before continuing, "Yeoman Two… leave what you're doing for the moment, and come on through!"
Julia cast an inquisitive look at Jen, who, could only shrug helplessly as Julia obediently tailed Harm into the office.
"Sit down, please, Martinez!" Harm ordered the young woman, and following his own command dropped into his padded leather swivel chair on the far side of the desk.
"Now…I'm not in the mood for any sort of BS this morning – you may have noticed that I'm adrift!"
"Uh… yes, sir…" Julia said cautiously.
"So I want straight answers. No ducking, no diving, no obfuscation, just the simple truth. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," Julia answered, growing more mystified by the minute. It certainly sounded as if the Captain was mad, but he didn't seem to be mad at her – he'd even told her to sit down, which wasn't par for the course if she had sinned – so the reason for his mood must lie somewhere else, but where, and in that case what had it to do with her?
The answer was soon forthcoming, "The reason I'm adrift is that Hawkes was late picking me up from my quarters! Now, I seem to recall a couple of months ago ripping your head off for exactly the same offence. But this time Hawkes assures me that she was on time at the Motor Pool and it was in fact the Motor Pool's Petty Office who was adrift, keeping his hands and a raft of drivers waiting! Was that how it as with you, that time?"
Julia blinked, she had, in truth practically forgotten the incident, but, "Yes, sir. He was about half an hour late that morning."
"Why in hell's name didn't you tell me so, instead letting me think it was entirely your own fault?"
Julia nearly broke protocol by shrugging but managed to restrain herself, "It didn't seem to make no never mind, sir. I was adrift, and that caused you to be adrift. Holding a post-mortem didn't seem to the wisest course of action… you were a little mad at me at the time, so I figured I'd just stay quiet and take my lumps."
"Well… " Harm leaned back in his chair for a few seconds and regarded his Yeoman through half shut eyes, "In a way I can see where you're coming from with that, but you do realise that if I had been about to write your fitrep, then it could have counted against you?"
"I suppose, so, sir. But I'd just had my fitrep written by the last CO, so I didn't figure…"
Harm held up a hand, "Okay… so… now we've sorted that out, how about you finding a drinkable brew of coffee, and then once you've done that, get me a line to our admin Officer at Northolt… Commander… Commander…"
"Lieutenant Commander Turford, sir," Julia helpfully supplied the name.
"Yes, thank you, and after that, it'll be more than time for me to have a squint at the first sight file."
"Uh… it's ready for you now, sir… If you'd rather…"
"Given my druthers, no I wouldn't, but I suppose I'd better get to it. Okay, first sight file first, then coffee, then the phone call, oh… and pass the word that staff call is postponed until ten thirty hours, Capisce?"
"Got it, sir! Now, by your leave, sir?" Julia stood and smoothed the front of her skirt.
"Yes, thank you Yeoman Two… dismissed!"
xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx
Johnny Walker looked up as Gunner Howard, the day's Battery runner entered the office, returning from RHQ with a bundle of paperwork retrieved from the internal post room.
"What have you got, Howie?" Johnny asked as he stretched out a hand for the sheaf of loose papers and envelopes.
"Oh, not much, Bom," Howard replied. But with the hint of a grin, "But there's one official looking one addressed to you…"
"Here… gimme!" Johnny almost leapt to his feet, "And once you've done that, get the kettle on and make a round of teas, BC, BK, BSM and one for you and me too!"
"Yeah, like I'd forget to make you a cuppa!" Howard grinned, but then his face lost its smile and he nodded in the general direction of the Battery Captain's Office, "What do you reckon to this new guy?"
"Hardly new, Howie. He's been here a couple of months… as to what's he like? Well… he's an officer – they're all horrible, aren't they?"
"Oh, I don't know… Captain Shephard was okay…" Howard disagreed.
Johnny thought for a moment and then he nodded his head, "Yeah, she was one of the good 'uns! Now… get the kettle on and leave me to get on with this bumf!""
Despite the temptation to rip open the white envelope addressed to him by Army Number, Rank and Name, Johnny disciplined himself to wait until he had filed all the incoming mail appropriately, and sorted it out. Grabbing three appropriate piles he left the office and took the few steps along the corridor to the BC's Office, where he knocked on the door and waited.
"Come in!"
"Good morning, sir!" Johnny said crisply, "The morning' offerings from RHQ," he added as he carefully place the block of files into the BC's in-tray and then taking a step to the side, retrieved the towering stack from that officer's out-tray.
"Thank you, Bombardier," Major Thornley replied and then looked up, a little hopefully, Johnny thought, "Uh… Is there a possibility of another cup of tea? I seem to detect Gunner Howard's fine hand at work on the last one!"
"More tea, sir? I'll get on it right away!"
"Ah… I'd rather Howard made it, if you don't mind, Bombardier!"
"Of course, sir!" Johnny replied hiding his grin, 'Yes! Yet another result!'
Returning to his own desk, Johnny sent the now not-seriously-grumbling Gunner Howard on his mission to brew a fresh pot of tea for the BC and with a feeling of anticipation, picked up his envelope and slit it open, unfolding the single sheet of paper it contained.
For a few moments his forehead creased in puzzlement as he deciphered exactly what message was concealed in the almost impenetrable jargon of the US Militarese and then his brow cleared and he got to his feet, and made for the BSM's office.
"Sir? Do you have a moment?"
Warrant Officer Class 2 (Battery Sergeant Major) Mallory looked up from the duties roster, a hint of a frown between his eyes. "Yes, Bombardier, what is it?"
"I need to be away from Barracks on Thursday, sir. I've got a medical appointment – in London – for the Yanks, sir."
BSM Mallory nodded, "This would be in connection with your fast approaching wedding, Bombardier?"
"Yes, sir! They're just making sure that I'm not contaminating the Good Ole USA with some unspeakable disease, sir!""
BSM Mallory contented himself with a snort of disdain and then asked, "And who will be covering your desk while you're out on your day's jolly?"
"Uh… That's what I wanted to talk to you about, sir. I reckon Gunner Warren would be a good fit for my half-section. I've mentioned it, casually to the Chief, and he seems to think that it might work out. He's looking into getting Warren onto the RLC Course, sir, for basic clerk."
Mallory nodded, "Okay, Bom, take the day, and keep me informed… oh… and don't forget, not only will I be inspecting your and Wilson's Number One Dress and Mess Kit, to make sure it's up to standard for the ceremony – I shall expect a slice of cake when you get back! Got it?"
"In one, sir!" Johnny grinned.
"Right, if that's all, get back to your desk and I don't want to hear another peep out of you all day!" the BSM ordered with mock severity.
"Yes, sir!" Johnny replied smartly and well satisfied with the success of his mission he return to his own office, where he found to his gratification that Gunner Howard had provide him with a fresh mug of tea.
xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx
Harm had barely pushed away his empty coffee mug – one of the presents from Stratford he had bought on his visit to that town with Gill when his phone rang. "Rabb!"
"Your call to Commander Turford, sir," Julia Martinez told him.
"Thank you, Yeoman Two, put me through please!"
"Commander Turford, how may I help you, sir?"
"Commander, this is Captain Rabb NAVFORJAG, and a pretty unhappy JAG at that! Perhaps you can explain to me why I had to wait forty minutes for my driver this morning, and when she did show up, she looked like a drowned rat! Now, why do you suppose that came about?"
Turford sighed silently, he had already had a similar conversation three times this morning, all from officers who outranked him, and had been kept waiting – unnecessarily so, they had pointedly informed him – for their delinquent drivers. The fact that one of those senior officers had been an irate Rear Admiral John Joseph Taylor III didn't help. Especially when said Admiral had threatened to have Turford removed from his command for incompetence. Turford already smarting under that particular lash of the whip glared up and across his desk at the figure of Bosun's Mate First Class McHale.
McHale stood perfectly steady, but his eyes were red-rimmed, and although his uniform was immaculate and he was properly washed and shaved, there was something about him that screamed that the sailor was suffering from a monumental hangover.
"Captain, I will sort this out!" Turford promised Harm. "Admiral Taylor and Commander Wilson have already made their views on this subject known to me, and I have the Petty Officer IC the Motor Pool in front of me right now, and I am about to read him his article Thirty One rights before I sling his ass in the brig! That is if the Royal Air Force will be so accommodating!"
Harm grunted, "Good! So I can be sure that there will be no further repetition of this sort of thing? Yes?"
"Further Repetition, sir?" Turford asked in dismay.
"Yes, further repetition… My driver was also late a few weeks ago, and I finally managed to winkle the truth out of her that once again it was your man being adrift that caused her to run late!"
"I will get to the bottom of this, sir. And at the moment it looks like BM One McHale is looking at formal disciplinary action!"
"I'll leave that in your hands Commander, unless and until his file crosses my desk!"
"Aye, aye, sir!"
Harm replaced the handset on its cradle and gave a grunt of satisfaction. Whatever else might ensue, he was pretty confident that with at least three senior officers on his case, Turford wasn't about to drop the ball on this one!
xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx
Harm worked steadily for the next fifty minutes until the chirp of the intercom broke his concentration, "Yes, Yeoman Two?"
"Coming up to ten thirty hours, sir. Legalman One Coates has already left for the conference room…"
For a moment Harm was puzzled as to why Martinez should be telling him this, but then recollected that he had postponed staff call until this time. "Thank you, Yeoman Two, I'm on my way!"
Fortunately staff call this morning wasn't too complicated. There were only two new cases to be handed out – one to Brian Tierney and the other to George Sykes – both simple cases, one of DoD and the other Damage to US Property.
The remainder of the short meeting was taken up by a review of those cases already in train. Fortunately for the peace of the office – and domestic harmony – the case of the misappropriated bicycle, which had been a bone of contention between Lieutenants Tierney and O'Sullivan had been settled at an article Thirty Two hearing, the IO declaring that as the bicycle had been returned in good time and undamaged, that there was no case to be answered.
So it was with a small degree of gratitude that Harm dismissed the assembly and with Jennifer Coates hot on his heels made it back to the sanctuary of his office, where he was happily surprised to see a fresh mug of coffee steaming gently on the coaster on his desk. Turning on his heel he re-opened the door and flashed a smile at Martinez, "Good work there, Yeoman Two! But how did you know exactly when to have the coffee ready?"
"Oh… an educated guess, sir!" Martinez flushed with pleasure at Harm's thanks, "So I took a bit of a chance…"
"Well, it paid off this time. Thanks again!"
He disappeared back into his office leaving Jen to pull a face at Julia, "Suck up!" she teased her friend.
"A little, yeah, but he's been on edge ever since Hawkes brought him late…"
"Yeah, I'm going to have to have words with a certain PFC on that subject!" Jen stated, a determined glint coming into her eye.
"Don't be so quick on the trigger – it more'n likely wasn't her fault!"
"Oh?"
"Yeah, the doofus that runs the Motor Pool has been known to be adrift on a Monday morning, especially after a heavy weekend – he left me standing waiting for half an hour one morning, and I caught a blast from the Captain for being adrift! So… check out what happened before you start reaming out young Hawkes!"
Jen gave Julia a look, "Man management advice?"
Julia shrugged, "Not really – more of a hint!"
"Okay… I'll think on it," Jen half-promised.
xxxxx-xxxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxxx-xxxxx
Harm worked through the rest of the morning, blessedly free from distractions, except that he remained abstracted as his memory flashed back to what he had convinced himself was a visit by a Casualty Assistance Team to the Davenports. He prayed silently that he was wrong, but… 'But anyway, there's nothing I can do about it from here… and very probably nothing I can do about it once I get home… I mean, I don't know the Davenports very well… I wouldn't want to intrude, but if, on the other hand there's anything I could do to help…'
Realising that he could indulge in such profitless mental processes until Kingdom Come, he tried his best to put his concerns aside and concentrate on reading the brief that had arrived on his desk with the morning mail. Courtesy of the SJAG at CENCOM, who were seeking to harmonise the ROE for the entire European, Mediterranean and Arabian Sea areas of operations.
The trouble was as far as Harm could see was that one size just wouldn't fit all. Some of the restrictions that would necessarily have to be imposed on actions over the Med were entirely inapplicable to the Middle East and Afghanistan, where the atmosphere was distinctly more hostile and dangerous for coalition forces and where there were far fewer civilian sensibilities to be taken into consideration, and the steps necessary for that consideration would, he knew from an aviator's perspective, have a detrimental effect on operations as well as on their survival. With a sigh he grabbed his pen and a legal pad and began to make notes, referencing sections of the document to which he either agreed or disagreed strongly enough to make his mark.
A brief stop for a lunch of a brown bagged sandwich and a fresh coffee, courtesy of Julia Martinez brought about a minor relief, but just as he reached anew for the briefing document his phone shrilled.
"Rabb!"
"Sir, it's Martinez… I have Admiral Chegwidden on the line from Falls Church!"
Harm bit back an audible sigh, "Okay, Yeoman Two, put him through!"
"Aye, aye, sir!"
Harm waited for the series of clicks that told him that the connection had been made and that Martinez had replaced her own phone on the hook. "Rabb,sir!" he said
"Good morn… uh… Good afternoon to you Captain!" the familiar voice floated into his ears.
"Yes, sir. It is… Sir, it's good to hear your voice again. Welcome back… I hope?"
"Welcome is welcome, Captain, but I'm not particularly happy about being back in the big chair!"
Harm winced, but given the circumstances of Admiral Chegwidden's departure from JAG – and the Navy – and given the efforts he had made to establish himself in civilian practice, that the former SEAL should have reservations came as no surprise. But Harm needed, for his own peace of mind to get the facts straight in his head.
"Well, I can't say it wasn't a surprise when I received the Change of Command Notification from the SECNAV's Office, sir. But if you don't mind me asking, what, exactly is going on, sir?"
"Damn you, Rabb! Still the damned investigator, huh?" Despite his words, Harm thought he could hear a touch of amusement in the other man's voice.
"Uh, yes, sir. You must admit sir, that such a short tenure as JAG… Well, after your nine years… less than a year for General Cresswell…"
"Yeah, less than a year, and that is precisely what I'm aiming for. The SECNAV dragged me back into uniform, much against my inclinations, and the only reason I agreed is that it was on the understanding that this billet is pro-tem until a suitable full-time – and Navy – appointee can be found?"
"Any idea of whom that might be, sir?"
"No, not a hint from the SECNAV, but I am pretty sure that he has his eye on someone and that somewhere in the background he is busy drumming political support for his nominee!"
Harm nodded, that would fit with his own, albeit somewhat limited contact with the politician in charge of the Department of the Navy.
"So… May I ask what the Admiral's intentions, are, sir?" Harm ventured cautiously.
"Well the first thing on my agenda is to kick this damned SOFA SNAFU upstairs where it belongs. Rabb, what the hell possessed you to go muck raking?"
"A complaint by a Royal Naval Judge Advocate sir, that there were widespread and consistent allegations of abuse against the spirit of the SOFA.!
"H'mm… Well… obviously I haven't read myself into the last seven or eight months work yet, so for the moment, I am happy to let things run as they are being run, but again, I remind you, if you foul up, I will drop you my in my wake, faster than I'd drop my trash! Got it?"
"Aye, aye, sir!"
"Oh… and talking of remembering things…" The gruffness disappeared from the Admiral's voice, "Sydney asked to be reminded to you, and wants to know how young Mattie's settling down in 'foreign climes'?"
"She's doing well, sir. Thank you. She's reconnected with LN One Coates, and I've hired a nurse to take charge of her during the day. And she's attending physical therapy three times a week – an all-day session each day!"
"Ouch that's going to hurt!" Chegwidden sympathised with the teenager, "But…"
"But it's what she needs if she's ever to get to the academy, sir!"
"True enough, Rabb. And I'll remind you that if the need does come about, I will be more than happy to write her recommendation!"
"Thank you, sir. I'm sure Mattie will be delighted when she hears the news…"
"What, that the mean, old, bald jerk has become wrapped around her little finger!"
"Uh… just so, sir…" For once Harm felt at a loss for words.
Chegwidden's rasping chuckle became apparent as he realised that he won this war of words with his protégé. "So with that thought, I'll leave you to the rest of your day. Goodbye, Rabb"
"Goodbye, sir!"