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“Do the crew do the same?” Stephen asked, lifting other covers to reveal real rice and steamed broccoli, a sight that made him salivate.
“They lay in butter and condiments,” said Mister Humphries, “cake and sweets for afters, and the like, but their meals are made in batch, so there isn’t the same opportunity for stores - private stores, that is. Nor are they allowed spirits outside the ration.”
“Speaking of which,” Sergeant Strasser said to Ms Lund, “the bottle stands by you.”
Ms Lund refilled her glass and sent the bottle on its way, but by the time it worked its way around to the marine it was empty. “Treason,” he cried, “rank treason! Steward!” But the steward was an insightful man, and was already reaching for the bottle to carry it over to the drinks machine and refill it. “My sister is on the Lion,” the sergeant continued, “Captain McGill, and they have two bottles, no waiting for refills.”
“We have two bottles,” said Mister Humphries.
“Two of red and two of white, I mean,” replied the sergeant. “Four bottles.”
“Lion must be a fifth rate or better,” said Mister Blaine.
“She’s a third rate. Tiger class. But that’s not the point. We could buy a second set of bottles. Whitehall need never know,” he added in response to the purser’s frown.
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