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Stephen spent the afternoon with Katya, showing her the sick berth and stowing the supplies that were delivered aboard in the middle of the watch. Eight bells crept up before he was aware. “Sir,” said Katya, “that was eight bells, sir.”
“Oh,” said Stephen. “Oh, I shall be reproached for being late.” He locked the door to the berth and they hurried off to their respective meals. Stephen dashed down the gangway and up the companion, paused at the wardroom door and walked in. “I beg your pardon,” he said to Mister Greenstreet, but the sublieutenant wasn’t there. The room was empty.
A rustle in the prep room caught his attention and he found the wardroom steward fiddling with the insides of one of the printers. The man started on seeing Stephen, and removed his headphones. “Everyone’s upstairs, your honor, being entertained by the skipper.”
“Indeed,” said Stephen, looking down at his clothes. “I suppose full uniform would be appropriate?”
“Yes, sir,” said the steward, and between the two of them they changed Stephen’ s clothes and brushed his hair in a little under three minutes and hustled him up the companion. At the sentry before Jack’s quarters the steward left him, and Stephen passed through the door alone.
He entered the great cabin just as Jack was delivering the punchline to his Japanese golfer joke, bringing everything to a halt. In a way this was just as well, given the joke’s scabrous nature (Mister Greenstreet had been growing more and more reserved), but Jack had intended the joke as an icebreaker and was not pleased. “Doctor, how do you do?” he asked. “I beg your pardon, sir, ladies, gentlemen. I lost track of time. I was appointed an assistant and was showing her the sick berth and lost track of time.”
“As you can see, we didn’t wait,” said Jack, and indeed Stephen saw that they were all half way through their soup. He meekly took his seat.
After this, the dinner was a stiff, uncomfortable affair. Stephen was taciturn by nature, Mister Greenstreet maintained his reserve, and though Jack tried to start several hares, none were successful. When the toast to the King was drunk it was done with a certain sense of relief, and the party broke up at last.
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