Perhaps, one day soon…

‘Give way together!’

He swung round, and saw the new lieutenant trying to catch his eye.

It was wrong to harbour personal dislikes in your own wardroom.

He turned and stared across the shark-blue water, but the launch was already out of sight amongst other anchored ships. Suddenly he was glad that he had made a point of being here when the midshipmen had departed, whatever the outcome of their examinations today.

He rearranged his features into the mask of command and strode toward a working party struggling with another tackle-load of timber.

‘Take a turn, you, Perkins! Jump about, man!’

The first lieutenant had returned.

In spite of the deep swell, the Gorgon’s launch soon gathered way once clear of the two-decker’s side. Fourteen oars, double-banked, pulling in a strong but unhurried stroke, carried her past other anchored men-of-war with apparent ease. The coxswain, a tough and experienced seaman, was unconcerned. The ship had been so long at anchor during the overhaul that he had grown used to most of the other vessels, and the comings and goings of their boats on the endless errands of the squadron. And the man whose flag flew above the powerful three-decker which he could see in miniature, framed between the shoulders of his two bowmen. The flagship. Like most of his mates, the coxswain had never laid eyes on the admiral. But he was here, a presence, and that was enough.

Bolitho tugged his cocked hat more tightly over his forehead. He was shivering, and tightened his fingers around the thwart, damp and unyielding beneath his buttocks. But it was not the cold, nor the occasional needles of spray drifting aft from the stem. They had all discussed it, of course. Something far away in the future, vaguely unreal. He glanced at his companion. Even that was unreal. What had drawn them to one another in the first place? And after today, would they ever meet again? The navy was like that; a family, some described it. But it was hard on true friendship.