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HOMECOMING by ALEXANDER KENT The story Homecoming is copyrighted by Bolitho Maritime Productions Ltd and The Thames Police Association Originally published in 1994 by the Thames Police Association Journal This Bowsprit Press edition of Homecoming is published with the permission of the author. Richard Bolitho figure on cover, ship and cannon drawings by Geoffrey Huband is Britannic Majesty’s sloop- though: his pride and joy and his first of-war Guillemot of eighteen command. Hguns plunged and lifted in the He strode across the slippery wet short stiff crests of the North Sea. planking and glanced at the compass. Nine days out of Gibraltar where the Its light was burning even though it sun always appeared to be shining, and was barely noon. He joined the first the air was always warm, to this bitter lieutenant by the rail and watched the October weather which seemed to grey sea bursting into agitated white pierce even the thickest clothing. froth as the beakhead crashed down England was very near, with yet again. Whitstable and the approaches to the “We’ll not get in before dark, Nore and London’s great river Thames Aubrey.” They both ducked as the sea just miles to larboard. boiled along the deck, smashing over Running for shelter, and with their and around each tethered gun like a country so close now, there was millrace. “I’d not risk the London always the danger of a slackening vigi- river at the best of times. But with lance. For if England was near, then him aboard it would be my ruin if so was the enemy coastline, where any something went wrong.” sail might be hostile. Overnight the The first lieutenant glanced at the sloop-of-war had thrashed up-Channel, streaming cabin skylight. Delivering every man very aware of the proximity despatches or collecting them from of the French coast, the hands called to some squadron, the whereabouts of trim sails and yards time and time which they often had only the haziest again in each watch, finding their way idea, was one thing. Carrying an aloft to fist and battle the hard foul- important passenger was another mat- weather canvas as if they had been ter entirely. doing it all their lives. Some of them At any other time they could have had. landed him at Plymouth or Ports- Guillemot’s young commander mouth. But the orders left nobody in enjoyed the responsibility, which for any doubt. Commodore Richard the most part he shared with nobody. Bolitho was to be taken straight to The vessel had been employed mainly London, and thence to the Admiralty. carrying despatches between the vari- It had been a strange experience, he ous squadrons and England itself, and thought. Nine days since the com- he knew that if his luck held he would modore had come aboard at the Rock probably be promoted and then “post- after leaving his flagship Lysander ed” before eventually being given a there, and yet despite Guillemot’s rela- frigate to command, the dream of tively small size the officers had bare- every young and ambitious sea-officer. ly seen him. Apart from one meal He would miss his lively Guillemot, with Guillemot’s youthful commander 1 Bolitho had remained for the most part any new appointment. The older men, in his cabin aft, having his meals sent the boatswain and some of the other to him and sharing them only with his warrant officers, knew of his exploits powerfully-built coxswain, a seaman far better than these youthful lieu- he appeared to treat as an equal. tenants. He came of a long line of Guille- mot’s commander considered Cornish sea-officers and had fought in his own coxswain but dismissed the every ocean where the English flag notion. A good seaman, honest and was challenged. Stories about him reliable as any were like part of the navy itself. sailor could Bolitho had been a frigate captain for hope to much of his service and had seen be in action in some of the fiercest fleet and ship-to-ship battles. It was said that he was due for an early promotion after his last commission in the Mediter- ranean. If so, he would be the young- est rear-admiral in the fleet after Nelson. More water surged along the tilting deck and flew from the the straining canvas like icy rain. Being a commodore was King’s rather like being a commander. If navy, but no you fell from Grace it would be all the companion for an way, in Bolitho’s case back down to officer. captain. The commander grimaced. On reflection, he had never met a In mine, from my own command to a real hero before. He had been in skir- lieutenant once more. Better to die in mishes, once with a Spanish frigate, the cannon’s mouth. He smiled tight- although Guillemot’s role was not to ly. Almost. engage in heroics but to avoid action Upon Guillemot’s arrival at Gibral- and deliver the word of authority as so tar they had discovered something of ordered. Be the ship a majestic three- which nobody in England was yet decker or a lowly brig, they all had to aware. After months of fruitless be controlled and directed by the face- searching for the French fleet, said to less men of admiralty. Guillemot was be somewhere in the Mediterranean, the messenger. Nelson had finally stumbled upon Richard Bolitho had a reputation them. Not this time in open water which usually preceded his arrival in where they could have challenged and 2 perhaps overwhelmed the English shook his head. “No, I see that you squadrons, but intent on launching the cannot.” He glanced at the straining biggest naval and military campaign rigging and banging canvas. “She is yet in Egypt. If successful, they would too fair a lady to risk on that river.” have forced open the gateway to India The commander had never consid- and beyond. ered his ship in those terms. “May I Bolitho’s flagship Lysander had ask, sir, have you ever served in a been in the thick of it, although when sloop-of-war?” they had anchored close by to take on The smile was distant, and both sad fresh water in Gib Guillemot’s officers and proud. had been amazed to see how well she “My first command, Sparrow. had been repaired after the savage Much like this one. Your first, I engagement in the Bay of Aboukir, understand?” which was already being called the He had suddenly become a senior Battle of the Nile. officer, no longer a mere passenger, The first lieutenant said in a fierce and the commander almost stammered. whisper, “He’s coming up now, sir!” “Yes, sir.” He felt Bolitho’s wet hand He immediately moved to the lee side on his sleeve. of the quarterdeck. “When you stand in the line of bat- Bolitho was wearing an old watch- tle...” He looked at him again. coat which displayed no mark of rank. “You will still remember this ship. He was hatless, so that his black hair There will be none quite like her.” was soon soaked in salt spray. Bolitho moved restlessly to the One bell chimed out from the fore- weather side of the quarterdeck, feel- castle and the commander touched his ing the cold and half-fearful that the hat. fever which had almost killed him in “Steering due west, sir. The wind the Great South Sea when he had been has backed a piece - to the nor’ east, it commanding the frigate Tempest had would appear.” returned to plague him once more. Bolitho looked at him. His eyes Because of it, Tempest was to be his were the colour of the sea, the English last frigate, just as the little Sparrow coast and the Western Approaches. had been his first command. Grey, and now, as they studied him, He had seen the surprise, disbelief penetrating. An old scar cut into his even in the young commander’s eyes hairline above the right eye. Against when he had revealed his emotions. his sunburned face it was pale and But then in the navy it was usually like livid. It was a marvel he had survived, that. Midshipmen saw the vital step the commander thought. from the young gentlemen’s berth to Bolitho said, “Will you reach the wardroom as an end to all their London before nightfall?” Then he problems, even as lieutenants viewed 3 the captain’s cabin as total security seemed in full command once more. from day-to-day routine and watch- Or had that, too, been an illusion? keeping, and every kind of personal Bolitho gripped a stay to steady problem. himself as the Guillemot showed her And the captain, what of him? copper to the angry sky. After What of me? Would it be flag rank Lysander, a two-decker of seventy- this time, or because of some grudge four guns, she seemed to frisk like a or another’s envy, might it be obscuri- lamb in a field. ty? He thought of Catherine Pareja. Even as commodore he had felt the Could Herrick ever forgive or forget difference. It went far deep- their brief, passionate attrac- er than overall authori- tion? Boli- tho had ty, the margin seen the sharp dis- between victory approval on and defeat. Herrick’s open The people face when he you thought had men- you knew tioned the could fine wine change cooler she towards had given you, him for incompre- his cabin hensible in though the Lysander.

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