Decoy Read Online Free

man who had lived under intense mental strain for months on end, with the responsibility for the lives of many other men as well. Occasionally it led men to crack up. When this happened to the pilots of fighters, or a member of a bomber’s crew, the Air Ministry bundled the man out of sight and labelled his file ‘LMF’, lacking in moral fibre, a polite way of calling him a coward. The Navy in its lack of wisdom was accidentally more humane. Not understanding what was happening to the man but unable to admit that a naval officer could be a coward (not in the numbers who were being affected), it gave him a shore job. This often cured him by relieving the strain, so that bureaucratic stupidity achieved a cure beyond the abilities of the doctors at the great naval hospital at Haslar.
    Still, Jemmy looked less gaunt; his eyes were less sunken. Ned thought he had less of the ‘lean and hungry’ look of Cassius and more of the lean cat who had swallowed the canary — due no doubt to Joan.
    The door swung open and the Croupier walked in, a gangling young lieutenant whose every joint seemed too loose, as though nuts and bolts needed a quarter turn with a spanner. Had he been serving in a ship, his long curly hair would have had the First Lieutenant suggesting a haircut, not merely a trim. The Croupier pointed an accusing finger at Ned.
    ‘You owe us double gins!’
    ‘I’ll buy you gins, but I don’t know about “owing”!’ Ned said mildly.
    ‘One of the oldest rules of ASIU,’ the Croupier said nonchalantly, ‘is that if you prove you’re right, then it’s doubles all round.’
    ‘I’ve never heard of that one,’ Jemmy protested. ’I’d be paying every day because I’m so often right.’
    ‘You haven’t heard of it because I’ve just made it up. Proposed, seconded, passed nem. con .’
    ‘ Nem. con? ’ Jemmy asked suspiciously.
    ‘Latin,’ the Croupier said airily. ‘Means unanimous. Do you want a free gin or not?’
    ‘No such thing as a free gin,’ Jemmy grumbled. ‘Chap buys you a gin, he wants a favour, or you have to listen to his boring stories, or he’s lining up to pinch your girl. “You don’t get owt for nowt”, as our Yorkshire brethren say.’
    ‘You had a bad weekend?’ the Croupier asked sympathetically. ‘This is no way to greet Ned. Welcome back, by the way. You’ve just made the ASIU into one of their Lordships’ star turns. Much good joss comes our way from Number Ten. In fact Uncle expects a bottle of brandy from the PM any moment.’
    ‘He’s got it already, so Joan says,’ Jemmy commented.
    ‘Ah well, not all of us get the between-the-sheets confidences of Uncle’s secretary. Nothing for Ned, then?’
    ‘Well, he’s got another gong.’
    ‘And I am due at Number Ten for tea tomorrow,’ Ned said. ‘I go with Uncle.’
    ‘Tea!’ Jemmy snorted. ‘Well, knock off a handful of his cigars: I haven’t had a good smoke since Uncle Hubert left me his stock of Havanas in his will. Two gross of ’em. Never been able to touch a Havana since. I was fourteen at the time.’
    At that moment Joan came in, honey-coloured hair neatly tied back, her uniform well pressed, and with several tan-coloured dockets under her arm. ‘Ned! Welcome back! I’ve just been phoning Palace Street. Uncle is waiting impatiently, and here you are, gossiping with these derelict barrow boys!’
    Ned kissed the proffered cheek. ‘Lead me to him!’
    As he came into the room Ned thought that Captain Henry Watts looked as though he had just stepped out of a Noël Coward war film. Those slightly heavy features, black wavy hair (in which Ned noticed the first flecks of grey at the temples), rugby player’s build and excellently tailored uniform belonged on the bridge of a destroyer steaming at full speed on a cinema screen.
    ‘Ah, Ned…’ The two men shook hands. Watts had commanded his own destroyer flotilla and sunk four U-boats. Yet he still looks rather raffish, which is ten years older