Page 6 of The Admiral's Daughter

My tongue runs across my bottom lip. Jesus, I’m a glutton for punishment.

“Cleo, lovely to see you.”

“Petty Officer Dickinson, likewise.”

“Rebecca, please.”

I tilt my head. “It’s a little disrespectful, isn’t it?”

She smiles. “Okay, how about you call me Rebecca when we’re alone?”

My mind goes to a place it shouldn’t.

“Sure. Now, I’m supposed to be meeting the captain of HMS Queen Elizabeth.”

Rebecca nods and gestures for me to follow. “Right this way. Captain Morley is expecting you.”

We stroll through the Navy base. Presumably, Dad is already with the captain. We approach the ship, and I admit I’m impressed. Seeing the fleet is always impressive. The Queen Elizabeth is a beautiful vessel. Maybe sticking around for a few weeks won’t be so bad.

We walk up the gangplank. The carrier holds dozens of aircraft, including choppers. All of whom are standing proudly on the deck. There are a group of sailors in PT clothing jogging up and down the runway. I can hear the instructor screaming at them to go faster.

Squinting, I look a little closer. They’re all sweating profusely and look utterly miserable. It’s at times like this that I’m so happy I went in a different direction.

One of the sailors calls out and I freeze. She’s not speaking to me, but I recognise the voice. My feet stop moving before my brain catches up. It’s her. River. Drenched in sweat, hair plastered to her forehead, looking absolutely knackered as she runs another lap. She’s laughing despite her obvious misery, shouting something back at the instructor that makes the other sailors howl.

Of course she’s here. Of course she’s on this ship, because the universe has a twisted sense of humour.

Rebecca notices I’ve stopped. “Everything alright?”

“Fine.” I force my legs to move, turning away before River spots me. “Just taking it all in.”

It’s the voice I heard last night trying to talk dirty to me. We were too pissed for it to have an effect, but I still remember the cadence of her voice. Its husky quality absent when she curses out her superior officer. He takes it on the chin and laughs in her face.

My stomach churns, knowing I’m going to be on the same ship as River. The Queen Elizabeth is big enough to avoid her, but experience tells me that won’t happen.

I put her to the back of my mind. I’ve got shit to do, and River made it clear when she disappeared without the courtesy of a goodbye that she’s not worth the mental headspace.

3

River

Every inch of mehurts. We’ve done burpees until my arms gave out, sprinted the flight deck until my lungs burned, and finished with a plank hold that had even Kit shaking. Benson stood over us the entire time, stopwatch in hand, grinning like a sadist at a buffet.

“Pathetic,” he’d said when Cheddar finally collapsed. “My grandmother could hold longer than that, and she’s been dead fifteen years.”

Benson is a masochistic son of a bitch. Half the group is lying on the flight deck, trying not to throw up after surviving his PT torture session.

“Everyone showered and dressed by 09:00 hours. I expect you back on deck looking sharp. We have a surprise visitor, and you will not embarrass me!”

I know he’s talking to us as a group, but I can’t help feeling his eye contact is directed at me.

“Yes, sir,” we chant. I’d say we jogged towards the bunks, honestly, it’s more of a shuffle.

“Fuck, I’m not going to be able to move tomorrow,” Cheddar moans.

“Anyone know who the mystery visitor is?” I ask.

“Must be someone important. The whole crew is getting suited and booted,” Kit replies.