The Marmalade Eater

<body topmargin=0 leftmargin=0 marginheight=0 marginwidth=0><script type="text/javascript" src="http://hb.lycos.com/hb.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript" src="http://ratings.lycos.com/ratings/lycosRating.js.php"></script> <script type="text/javascript"><![CDATA[//><!]]></script> <script type="text/javascript" src="http://scripts.lycos.com/catman/init.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript" src="http://members.tripod.com/adm/ad/code-start.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript" src="http://members.tripod.com/adm/ad/code-middle.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript" src="http://members.tripod.com/adm/ad/code-end.js"></script> <noscript> <img src="http://members.tripod.com/adm/img/common/ot_noscript.gif?rand=30066" alt="" width="1" height="1" />  <iframe frameborder="0" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" scrolling="no" width="728" height="90" src="http://ad.yieldmanager.com/st?ad_type=iframe&ad_size=728x90&section=209094"></iframe>  </noscript> <table cellpadding=0 cellspacing=0 border=0 height="100%"><tr> <td valign="top" width=150 BGCOLOR="#0099FF" TEXT="#F7F7FF"> <div> <A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The Gloob"><U>The Gloob</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="short_stories.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Stories"><U><B>Stories</b></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="poems.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Poems"><U><B>Poems</b></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="children_s_stories.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Childrens Stories"><U><B>Children's Stories</b></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="sounding_board.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Sounding Board"><U><B>Sounding Board</b></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="the_cats.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The Cats"><U><B>The Cats</b></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="the_dogs.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The Dogs"><U><B>The Dogs</b></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="memories.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Memories"><U><B>Memories</b></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="http://15683.15.links4trade.com/links.html" TARGET="_top" TITLE="http://15683.15.links4trade.com/links.ht"><U><B>Links</b></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id83.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Votes"><U><B>Votes</b></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id85.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The Classics"><U><B>The Classics</b></U></A></div> <div> <B>Jack  Windsor Stories</b></div> <div> <A HREF="the_flight_of_the_swan.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The Flight of the Swan"><U><B>The Flight of the Swan</b></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="swallow_close.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Swallow Close"><U><B>Swallow Close</b></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="a_twist_in_the_tail.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="A Twist in The Tail"><U><B>A Twist in The Tail</b></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="the_hairy_ghost.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The Hairy Ghost"><U><B>The Hairy Ghost</b></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="the_letter_in_the_spare_room.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The Letter in the Spare Room"><U><B>The Letter in the Spare Room</b></U></A></div> <div> <B>The Marmalade Eater</b></div> <div> <A HREF="the_rat_from_the_river.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The Rat From The River"><U><B>The Rat From The River</b></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="the_wild_granny_hunt.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The Wild Granny Hunt"><U><B>The Wild Granny Hunt</b></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="thursday_s_visitor.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Thursdays Visitor"><U><B>Thursday's Visitor</b></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="the_tenant_at_hannaford_cottage.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The Tenant at Hannaford Cottage"><U><B>The Tenant at Hannaford Cottage</b></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="family_tree.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Family Tree"><U><B>Family Tree</b></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="the_masterpiece.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The Masterpiece"><U><B>The Masterpiece</b></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="the_park.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The Park"><U><B>The Park</b></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id189.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The Hotel on the Moor"><U><B>The Hotel on the Moor</b></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id190.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="If I Won a Million"><U><B>If I Won a Million</b></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id191.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The Broken Clock"><U><B>The Broken Clock</b></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id194.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The Final Mission"><U><B>The Final Mission</b></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id195.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Living Statues"><U><B>Living Statues</b></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id196.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="The Nephew"><U><B>The Nephew</b></U></A></div> </td> <td valign="top" BGCOLOR="#FFFFCC" TEXT="#080000"> <bR> <div>  </div> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> <B>The Marmalade Eater</b><B> <A NAME="eater"><IMG BORDER="0" SRC="1x1.gif" HEIGHT="1" ALIGN="bottom" WIDTH="1" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0" ></A></b></div> <div> by </div> <div> Jack Windsor</div> <div>  </div> <div> Her Majesty's Ship Tewkesbury slipped away from the jetty and headed out into Hong Kong harbour. She moved smoothly and swiftly toward the open sea as if she were impatient to be free of the port which had held her captive for the last seven days. </div> <bR> <div> The sailors, assembled on deck, watched as the waterfront and the skyscrapers behind it, began to recede from view. Their emotions were mixed as the ship gathered momentum, leaving behind a city of wealth and poverty, love and hatred, of East and West.</div> <bR> <div> The sleek grey vessel cut its way efficiently through the water past the many islands surrounding Hong Kong, until, leaving the calm sheltered harbour behind, it entered the rolling swell of the South China Sea and headed for Singapore. All around it were countless Chinese junks plying their trades; their high square sterns recognisable from every angle. </div> <bR> <div> On the bridge, Captain Thomas Brookes assured himself that the ship was on course and clear of any hazard, then gave the order that released those members of the crew who had particular responsibilities when entering or leaving harbour, "Fall out Special Sea Dutymen".</div> <bR> <div> In the Operations Room, Leading Seaman Frank Austin, or "Sweets" as he was more commonly known, relaxed his vigil at the radar display. He was always in the Ops Room whenever HMS Tewkesbury entered or left harbour or engaged in hazardous manoeuvres. The forward door opened and in came the afternoon radar watch.  </div> <bR> <div> Sweets passed responsibility for the Ops Room to his friend and messmate Pete Martindale. Then he walked out on deck into the sunshine. He went down to the boat deck, checking the lashings on the motor boat and the cutter, ensuring they were adequately secured for sea. On the way he passed a critical eye at the radar aerials on the mast. </div> <bR> <div> The high definition harbour radar was still operating, its half cheese aerial whipping round as it despatched and collected in its invisible waves. The general purpose Type 47 rotated endlessly as it sent to the screens on the Bridge and in the Operations Room a picture of everything within 20 miles of the ship. Only the big Type 329 aerial was stationary.</div> <bR> <div> As he looked up from his position beside the boats. Sweets Austin sensed that something, as yet intangible, was not quite right. He hurried up the ladder and opened the heavy steel door of the radar office. He stood there listening to the whining hum of the Type 47. It sounded all right, but still he had the feeling that something was wrong. </div> <bR> <div> He checked the automatic tuning but there was no reason for any concern there. Still the niggling doubt remained at the back of his mind. He stood still for a few more minutes, then shrugged his shoulders and turned to leave. Noticing the storeroom door was open, he cursed himself for not securing it before they left harbour, and shut it firmly, before leaving the radar office and returning to the messdeck.</div> <bR> <div> A shower, supper, a letter to his wife and a game of cribbage filled his time until lights out when he lay down on his bunk and and fell asleep.</div> <bR> <div> At 2350 hours he was back in the Operations Room, for the middle watch. There were two other members of his watchkeeping team: Able Seaman Billy Bowen and Ordinary Seaman Nipper West.</div> <bR> <div> The warship steamed steadily through the darkness, keeping to the edge of the main shipping lanes, so that the majority of the radar echoes were those of merchant vessels on parallel courses, some 10 or 15 miles to starboard. Every now and then the Ops Room team would detect the indistinct radar response of a Chinese junk or the fuzzy shape of a rain storm. </div> <bR> <div> Half way through the watch, Leading Seaman Austin decided it was time that he checked up on the transmitter in the radar office.</div> <bR> <div> He went via the upper gun deck to take in some fresh air on the way, and paused for a while, to watch the moonlit sea hurtle past. The water had a phosphorescent glow where the bow wave had disturbed the minute organisms that drifted with the ocean currents. As a cloud obscured the moon, he turned and went into the radar office.</div> <bR> <div> He listened to the transmitter hum with an experienced ear. Everything seemed all right. He entered the readings in the log and noted the time, 0245. Looking up, he again saw the storeroom door ajar.</div> <bR> <div> Frank Austin liked everything in his life to be orderly, but now, twice in the space of a few hours, he had found a door open which had never been left that way before. The radar office log showed no-one had been in the office between his visit after leaving harbour and now. He felt his heart beating faster and the adrenalin begin to surge. If there had been no other visitors to the radar office, then the door must have been opened by someone in the storeroom; someone who had no authority to be there! His pulse began to race as each of his senses sharpened itself for whatever was to come. Even the Type 47 radar seemed to catch the mood and the pitch of its humming changed as the automatic tuning searched across the bands. </div> <bR> <div> Austin took the heavy rubber emergency torch from its stowage and advanced toward the storeroom doorway.</div> <bR> <div> He stood there, his feet braced against the regular but gentle rolling of the ship, and stared into the room. The stores were securely racked and seemed to be in order. </div> <bR> <div> All was still and silent save for the rhythmic creaking of the ship as it thrust its bows further into the ocean. His heart pounding in his chest, he strained eyes and cars in an effort to detect any sort of movement; but there was nothing.</div> <bR> <div> How long he stood there he had no idea, until gradually a calmness settled on him and he convinced himself there was no-one else in the compartment. Making up his mind to have a final look round, he stepped into the storeroom.</div> <bR> <div> At that moment, from the radar office behind him, came the strident buzzing of the telephone. The sudden and unexpected sound caused him to start and as he swung round to return, the torch hit a shelf bracket and fell to the deck. He bent to pick it up and in that instant saw the frightened face of a girl hiding behind a wooden crate. She withdrew immediately, but he knew he had not imagined her.</div> <bR> <div> There was no ignoring the insistent call of the telephone, but his mind was in turmoil as he took the receiver from its clip on the bulkhead and answered it. </div> <bR> <div> Billy Bowen's calm voice at the other end said, " You'd better come back to the Ops Room Sweets. There's a heavy squall showing on the radar and we're heading straight into it."</div> <bR> <div> " Right " replied Austin, " I'm on the way!"</div> <bR> <div> The rain had started before he reached the shelter of the Operations Room, and all thoughts of what had occurred in the radar office were pushed from his mind as he glanced at the radar display. The ship was entering an area where visibility from the Bridge would be down to a few yards, and so the radar watch would become the eyes of HMS Tewkesbury. He flicked on the intercom and assured the Officer of the Watch that there was no radar echo close enough to endanger them. </div> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> ***********************************</div> <bR> <div> As quickly as the storm had blown up, it subsided, and whereas half an hour before, the warship had been fighting the waves, now it rode with the swell.</div> <bR> <div> Leading Seaman Austin stared down at the chart on the plotting table, but his mind was back with the girl in the radar office. He knew that he ought to report her presence to the Officer of the Watch, but something held him back from going up on the Bridge. There was no doubt she was a stowaway, but he wondered whether she had come aboard by herself or had a member of the crew helped her ? Was she an illegal immigrant running from the Law, or perhaps a bar girl looking for a better life? He knew he should turn her in; but still he hesitated. He decided to speak to her first.</div> <bR> <div> As soon as the Morning Watchmen arrived at 0400 and had taken control of the Ops Room, Frank Austin hurried back to the radar office storeroom. </div> <bR> <div> She had cramped herself into a corner when she had heard him come in, but now that he knew she was there he found her straight away.</div> <bR> <div> "Who are you? What are you doing here? Where did you come from? How did you get aboard?....." His questions remained unanswered; her face simultaneously showing puzzlement and apprehension. "Who are you?", he repeated. Still no reply.</div> <bR> <div> He tried speaking slowly and more clearly, then writing questions on a piece of paper, but it soon became apparent that her command of English was severely limited. She just shrugged her shoulders and smiled. Suddenly he turned on his heels and left the office, closing the door firmly behind him.</div> <bR> <div> Running down ladders and through passageways, he rapidly arrived back on the messdeck. It had occurred to him that she could not have had anything to eat or drink since HMS Tewkesbury had left harbour some fifteen hours before.</div> <bR> <div> The rest of the middlewatchmen had turned in again and all was quiet on the messdeck. The only illumination was the glow of the night light over the stores hatch in the centre aisle. </div> <bR> <div> Thirty men lay sleeping in their bunks, breaking the silence with an occasional snore or grunt as they shifted position. Sweets Austin made his way quietly to the provisions locker by the forward ladder. It was supposed only to contain tea and coffee, but more often than not someone would have left bread or biscuits there.</div> <bR> <div> He undid the catch and felt around inside the locker; bread, margarine and a half-full tin of marmalade were the rewards of his searching.</div> <bR> <div> Back in the radar office, he put down the marmalade laden bread and two mugs of tea, then beckoned the girl to come out of the storeroom. Shyly she emerged, her dark eyes looking anxiously around her. When she saw the food and drink, a small smile hovered on her lips for an instant, then she looked at Frank Austin with a questioning glance." </div> <bR> <div> "Eat.", he said, then picked up a slice of bread and took a bite. He motioned with his hand for her to follow his example. </div> <bR> <div> Once she overcame her apprehension it did not take her long to consume everything he had brought.</div> <bR> <div> In the nights that followed, he supplied her with whatever food and drink he could, but he dared not openly remove food from the dining hall and she frequently had to make do with bread liberally smeared with marmalade. Also during the nights, when there were fewer members of the crew about, they would make their way to the nearest bathroom and toilet, where he would nervously stand guard, ready to try to divert anyone who came along.</div> <bR> <div> All the while, HMS Tewkesbury steamed closer to her destination, and as time went on Sweets Austin found it more and more difficult to cope with the situation. He should have </div> <div> reported her presence on board right at the beginning, but now it was too late and he knew that he was making a rod for his own back. The stress began to build a pressure within him as each hour passed. In addition to his normal daily duties and round the clock watchkeeping requirements, he was losing much of his sleep at night in catering for the needs of the Chinese girl. He desperately wanted to tell someone about her existence, but he dared not.</div> <bR> <div> Had the sea passage been much longer, Leading Seaman Austin would have cracked under the strain, but at last the day of the ship's arrival in Singapore was upon them. </div> <bR> <div> Sweets had thought long and hard as to how the girl could leave the ship unnoticed, and the night before had provided her with a pair of blue overalls and a seaman's cap.</div> <bR> <div> As the warship approached Singapore, the Special Sea Dutymen were called to their entering harbour stations, and the Operations Room claimed his attention. </div> <bR> <div> The procedure of the ship working its way into harbour and alongside the quay seemed to take much longer than usual, but eventually Sweets was able to return to the radar office to put into action his plan to help the girl off the ship.</div> <bR> <div> When he arrived however, the door was wide open, and it took only a few moments to assure himself that she had gone. Behind the crate where she had hidden, lay a neatly folded silk handkerchief, put carefully and deliberately in the first place where he would look.</div> <bR> <div> He ran back to the gun deck and stood at the guard rail, gazing intently at the quayside. It was full of life, sparked off by the arrival of the ship. He looked down upon the mixture of naval and dockyard people and realised that he would never see her, As he turned away, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure that seemed to raised a hand in farewell. He swung back to look again, but whoever it had been, was gone.</div> <bR> <div> Later on the messdeck, when the newspapers arrived, he read a couple of paragraphs in the Straits Times. </div> <bR> <div> "Chinese authorities are still rounding up the leaders of last month's student unrest in China's major cities. It is believed that so far they have failed to locate Chung Lai Har, the most outspoken of the students.  </div> <bR> <div> Minister Lee Hok has accused the Hong Kong government of sheltering Miss Chung. An official spokesman in Hong Kong has denied the presence of any rebel students in the Crown Colony."</div> <bR> <div> Frank Austin put down the paper and stared unseeingly through the porthole.  Under his breath he whispered, " Good luck my friend, good luck." Then after carefully placing the silk handkerchief in his locker, he made his way to the post room to see if any letters had arrived from home.</div> <bR> <div> If you enjoyed reading this story, you may be interested to know that Jack Windsor has published an anthology of 40 of his stories. It is called 'Secret of the Lake'. Published by Braiswick you can order it from your local bookstore or buy online from Amazon.com</div> <bR> <div> Please visit our <A HREF="http://www.buy.at/wickfordtn" TARGET="_top" TITLE="http://www.buy.at/wickfordtn"><U>Charity Web Shop</U></A> - there is something for everyone, including CDs, DVDs, books, wine, toys, cars, furniture, holidays and flights. Every purchase made from the Web Shop brings in commission for our charity for the blind.</div> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> <A HREF="#eater" TITLE="The Marmalade Eater"><U><B>Back to Top</b></U></A></div> <bR> </td> </tr></table></body>