Page 15 of The Admiral's Daughter

“Cheers,” we all chorus.

“Dawson.” Ah shit, I was hoping he’d forget I’m here. “Captain Morley tells me you’ve been aboard the ship for going on five years.”

“Yes, sir. Five years next month.”

He takes a generous swig of his drink. “And you haven’t promoted up?”

I shake my head. “No, sir. I’m quite happy where I am. I enjoy my job.”

“You’re an engineer, correct?”

“Weapons Engineer, sir.”

“You should be looking at a Petty Officer rank by now, Dawson.”

I go to answer, but Cleo butts in. “Not everyone wants to rank up, Dad.”

“It’s natural progression, Cleo.”

“It’s an assumption,” she shoots back.

Wow, the tension just shot up several notches. Cleo and dear old dad have some issues. The table falls silent for a few moments. I want to crawl up my own arse at this point. What I wouldn’t give to be back in my bunk, flicking Wotsits at Boot or playing poker with Cheddar and Kit.

“We’ve decided to give the crew an extra night of shore leave,” the captain finally says. It’s the best news I’ve heard all day. “They’ll have tomorrow evening and then it’s back to business. There’s a lot to organise before we ship out.”

“Good idea,” the admiral replies.

Our food is served, and it’s delicious. Simple meat and vegetables, but the taste is outstanding. The captain and admiral start up a conversation regarding the upcoming exercises in the Atlantic. I cast a quick look towards Cleo, but her focus is solely on her food.

If the universe has mercy, we’ll wrap this shit up fast and leave. It’s clear none of us wants to be here. Well, theadmiral probably does. After all, he’s still talking. Boy, does he like the sound of his own voice.

After a delicious wedge of chocolate cake and coffee, I sense it’s the right time to bid them all goodnight. “Sir, Captain, thank you for inviting me this evening. I wondered if it would be okay for me to take my leave. I have work duty at 06:00 sharp.”

The captain nods. “Certainly, Dawson. After tomorrow’s shift, please report to Cleo. She will give you an itinerary.”

Cleo smiles. “I will. Although I can’t foresee needing you all that much. I’ve got a pretty good layout of the ship already.”

“I’d prefer it if you were accompanied, Cleo,” Admiral Carter interjects. Cleo’s jaw tightens, but she doesn’t argue.

“I’ll be in my cabin most of the day. Just stop by,” she says to me.

With the night over, I let out a puff of air the second I’m out of the room. The sound of the door opening and closing again pulls my attention. Cleo steps out, looking just as happy as me to be out of there.

“I’ll try not to call on you too often, Dawson,” she says without preamble. “I really don’t see the point of having a babysitter, but as you can see, it’s not my decision.”

“It’s fine,” I say, keeping my voice cool.

“No, it’s not. We both know it.”

At least she’s on the same page. “Can I escort you back to your cabin?”

She eyes me with curiosity, which is fair. I don’t even know why I offered.

“Okay. Thank you.”

This is the politest we’ve been to each other so far. The ship is quiet, even though it never really sleeps. The crew work 24/7 in shifts of eight hours. I rotate to night shifts next week, which isn’t my favourite. Huh, maybe if Cleo needs me to show her around, I could get out of them.

“You look like you’re thinking hard over there, Dawson.”