As soon as the wires were ashore in the shadow of the Rock he stormed on to the quay to see the admiral and within twelve hours was heading for the destroyer, Norseman, which was due to move north to join the Grand Fleet. He seemed to have saved the situation entirely, but as he stepped aboard and was met by the officer of the watch, he recognised him at once as Verschoyle, by now like himself a full lieutenant. The thin, hard face broke into a broad smile. ‘Ginger Maguire,’ Verschoyle said. ‘By all that’s wonderful! I heard we were taking a passenger but I thought it must at least be an admiral, not a bloody little pipsqueak like you. Ah, well, it’s all the same! We’re due for a refit so I expect there’ll be leave, and it’s all one whether it’s an admiral or you. Are you enjoying the war, Lieutenant Maguire?’ ‘So far,’ Kelly admitted, ‘no. Are you?’ ‘I intend to. That’s why I’m glad we’re going home, because we’re due eventually for Scapa or Rosyth and that’s where the commander-in-chief is.
