“Well it looks like you have really done it this time, I am glad to say .“said the CO .”Your career has finally came to its inevitable end. I think that it is safe to say that the court martial will kick you out and that the Nursing and Midwifery council will strike you off. You have really blown it this time. I will be shot of you forever and that pleases me so much that I am not going to punish you in any way myself. In four months you will be history, so just get out of my office, return to wherever you live and I will see you in court.”
Hank thought things had not turned out too bad. There was his court martial looming but he had time to formulate a defence of some description and until then he was banned from working and sent home on full pay, hardly a punishment. He was whistling as he entered the Stoke and took his usual position at the bar. Soon, pint in hand things were looking up. Bill was popping over in a while and in the meantime there were two attractive young ladies at the corner table who looked like they needed cheering up. Taking pint in hand he casually approached and asked if he could join them. Somewhat reluctantly they agreed and he engaged them in conversation. In no time at all they were relaxed and getting on fine. They commented on the smartness of his uniform; he had worn his no. 1’s for the meeting with the CO and hadn’t bothered to change it. In no time he was regaling them with stories of daring do from his naval career.
The scene that greeted Bill when he entered the Stoke couldn’t have been further from what he had expected. The pub was full and instead of his mate sitting morosely drunk in the corner he was laughing and joking with two good looking birds and wearing his no.1 uniform. He had to admire his attitude but remained concerned for Hanks state of mind. He loved the Navy and everyone knew that his latest escapade would be the end of his naval career. As he approached the table Hank stood up and spotted him and hurried over.
“All right shipmate” he called over the throng at the bar “the usual is it?”. Bill just nodded and Hank told him to take a seat with the two girls whilst he went to get the drinks in. As he sat down one of the girls said “you must be Bill? I’m Claire and this is Mathilde.” Both were good looking and well spoken, something he definitely had not expected. “Hi” was his feeble response. Immediately the ladies (for ladies they were, not the young totty he first imagined) started to tell him how lucky he was. He really could not believe his ears. Apparently Hank had just returned from Sierra Leone where he had been captured by the West Side Boys and tortured for a couple of weeks before escaping and single handedly crossing 300 miles of jungle to safety in just 2 weeks. Bill had to agree that is was quite an amazing story but was even more amazed when he discovered that they knew all about the Countdown fiasco. “Yes that was a sad state of affairs” he replied.
“Something should be done” the ladies chirruped together “and don’t tell Hank but we are going to help“. Oh shit thought Bill what has that daft git got these two nice people into; “But do you know the whole story?” he asked them, determined that they should not fall victim to one of Hanks madcap schemes.
“Oh yes” came the reply from Claire, “They should never have let him on that show in the first place. To think he was only a week out of the jungle and still suffering from the effects of heat stress and dehydration, not to mention the trauma of having to kill several of his pursuers. I mean the man should get a medal not court martialled. “ “Indeed” said Bill “but there is very little anyone can do, the thing is that once the Navy make their minds up about this sort of thing they very rarely change them. It is all very sad but that’s that really.”
“I can see that you are going to be no help” huffed Mathilde “but don’t worry we will manage on our own, we will shame the Navy into dropping all charges. Just you wait, Plymouth
Bill was confused; “but what can you two do, I mean it’s a pretty cut and dry case, after all it went out live on national television, there is no way to deny that it happened. Girls I am his friend and I know that he is a good bloke but sometimes things have to be left to run their own course.”
A joint look of horror came over their faces . To let this happen would be a travesty they told him. Sure they knew that Hank had signed the official secrets act to cover his actions in Sierra Leone
Ten minutes later Hank returned from the bar with two pints of Guinness and two gin and tonics. Bill was just staring at him, mouth agape and a tremor in his hands. He lifted his pint and swallowed half of it in one go. Hank just ignored him a started chatting to the girls again, the usual stuff nothing in particular. When Claire went to the toilet Mathilde took the opportunity to slip him her phone number and as they were leaving half an hour later Claire gave him hers.
“What a result” Hank said punching Bill’s arm. “Can you believe that, two phone numbers in one afternoon and I didn’t ask for either of them. Life is good is it not?”
“Stop, just fucking stop” Bill shouted. “your life is in tatters mate. You are about to be thrown out of the Navy and you just waltz into a pub and convince two innocent journalists, if there is such a thing, that you are a victim of some great plot to discredit you. They believe every bloody word and are now off to their respective editors to organise protests, petitions and God knows what else to save you. Any slim chance that you had of staying in the mob has just packed bags and left for dooms Ville. They think that you are a hero mate and nothing will convince them otherwise. You cant just use people like that, you are going to have to stop them before they lose all dignity and probably their jobs.”
“Chill fella” laughed Hank. “No way are those two journalists and I just fed them a few lines to pass the time. They will just go home now and wait for the boyo here to call which I surely will, but not tonight. As to getting kicked out, something will turn up, it always does mate, you worry too much. Now get the beers in I have a terrible thirst on me.” So the night took a familiar turn. A selection of pubs were visited and huge hangovers developed before they fell asleep.
The next morning was when events started to really unfold. Hank was in the newsagents when the headline from the Plymouth Courier screamed at him across the shop floor. “Local hero let down by Royal Navy.”
Grabbing a copy he ran from shop to home and read the story in full. Luckily it mentioned no names but the gist of it was that a local navy nurse had suffered severe trauma whilst serving his country and was now being hounded out of the service because of a misdemeanour on national television probably caused by the trauma he had only recently experienced. Although it did not mention him by name it left no doubt as to who the article was about. Sweat began to drip from his brow as he just stood in the kitchen and stared at the paper. This thing was snowballing beyond his control. The ringing of his mobile shook him from his coma like stance. He picked it up and hit the answer button. “Hello.”
“Chief Kelly my office now” was the only reply before the other caller hung up. He booked a taxi and left for the CO’s office. On the way he resolved to tell them to stuff their job up their arses, the damage was done, he would get some time in the glasshouse and then would be a civvy, he would just have to live with it. On arrival he was shown straight into the CO’s office and told to sit down which was a first, he usually had to stand up for his bollockings. After a few minutes the CO entered followed by two other people he had never met wearing dark suits and sensible shoes. “That’s him” the CO muttered and promptly left the room. Both men introduced themselves and Hank thought that he was in real trouble. One was from MI5 whilst the other character would only say that his name was Tom and he worked for the government. Both showed him proper ID and then took their seats in front of him. There was no threatening postures just simple and open questions like how did he know what was going on in Sierra Leone/Who had he been speaking to? Where had he visited in the last few weeks? And questions of that ilk repeated time and time again. Hank gave honest answers to all the questions and told them about the pending court martial and the chat with the two journalists in the pub. He left nothing out and even apologised for his behaviour. After two hours the interview was coming to an end. Tom asked him how much influence he had with the two journalists to which he responded that he really did not know. He was then asked if he would consider having a chat with them to see if they would drop their line of enquiry. This he agreed to do and to his surprise they then hinted that if he was successful they may be able to help with his current problem and promptly left the office. In a state of shock he left also and headed for home determining to give Bill a shout on the way.
Bill was not exactly pleased to see his mate, of course he felt for him but he had to consider himself and indeed Rosey. Maybe she was right after all, Hank was dragging him down and it was a dark abyss that awaited him if he continued in his current lifestyle. To make matters worse Hank was now openly hostile to Rosey. On entering the house he told Rosey to bring two glasses for the Jameson’s’ he had brought, then ordered her to make sandwiches and then go shopping. She looked to Bill for support but he just asked for pickle and cheese and a packet of crisps. After she left Hank got down to business. His news was shocking and unexpected but Bill could not help but be wary when the secret services were involved. But he wasn’t being asked to do much really; just a bit of lying to a journalist. The plan was actually very simple. Hank would start seeing one of the journalists and that would then call her integrity into question. That only left the other and Bill would have to help, she would somehow have to be disgraced and that part of the plan needed working on hence the Jameson.
The bottle was soon empty but inspiration was still lacking. They would have to go to be pub. As they were leaving Rosey was just returning with some shopping.
“I’ve got us a nice piece of steak for tea love” she said “I didn’t realise you would still be here Hank sorry”.
“Don’t be” came the reply “we are off to the pub, enjoy your steak”.
With that they were off. Bill thought that he should feel guilty but memories of the Dartmoor incident drove him on, his drunken logic dictating that the last time he got in trouble with Hank he got promoted. So they sought divine intervention in the Stoke. First question to be answered was which one Hank should shag? After long discussion and several pints they decided that Mathilde would be the lucky one as she had a slightly exotic name, much nicer than Claire. Pleased with their progress they decided that a break was called for so set off for the quiz machine. Before they knew it it was closing time and their deliberations would have to take place elsewhere, but where? Well a nightclub would be too noisy and Hanks flat was a mess so that left Bill’s place so off they set.
On arrival they sat down to a couple of single malts. Rosey made a brief appearance in a revealing nightie: “Where were you love, I was worried?”.
Before Bill could answer Hank replied that he had been to the pub, as she knew and would she now mind returning to bed as the sight of her in that nightie just reminded him of how much weight she had put on. As she stormed upstairs Bill turned to is mate; “Was that necessary mate? You are just making life difficult for me. I have to live with her you know.”
“No you don’t, listen fella she is getting a bit on the porky side and she is trying to drag you down with her. I think she might be a feeder you know. As a matter of fact if I was you I would just bin her here and now. If you want I will do it for you” he said rising from his seat.
“Fucking sit down. I love Rosey!” Bill squealed. “She means everything to me. We are going to get married. Christ she loves me and we intend to spend the rest of our lives together. We have plans for the future….what do you mean she might be a feeder?”
“Well you know what a feeder is don’t you?” Bill shook his head. “Well it’s a bird who feeds her bloke lots of fattening food so that he becomes a porker so that no one else will fancy him and then she can eat her heart out content in the knowledge that he has to stay with her no matter what she looks like as he is by this stage also a fat git.”
Bill was shocked. “No way dude, look at me, all skin and bone, you’re just pissed and I know you don’t like her so you have be lying. Bollocks you have some imagination, to make up feeders just like that was pretty impressive.”
Outside on the stairs Rosey smiled. She heard the whole conversation and thus reassured made her way silently to bed and slept soundly. In the meantime the conversation continued downstairs, Hank trying to put his point across.
“No honest fella, it might not be working straight away and you don’t know how long she has been at it but just look back to this afternoon.”
Bill looked exasperated, “what the fuck do you mean this afternoon? You came round here, pissed off my missus and then we went to the pub.”
A look of triumph on his face Hank screamed, “Aha, see you didn’t notice did you? As we left she said that she had for you some nice steak for tea. She was trying to trick you with food you fool.”
“You must be pissed fella, that is the biggest pile of shite that I have heard in a long long time, lets just leave it and get back to planning your next escape.”
Hank visibly shrank but accepted defeat his last words only, “You wait and see mate, breakfasts and everything, she’ll get you.”
Bill did not give it much thought and poured a couple more drinks. Soon the planning was underway again and it was soon decided that the best way to discredit Claire would be to get her to publish a story of pure fiction and then produce the evidence to shame her. The only problem was that it would have to be totally outrageous and yet believable at the same time. Between them they only knew about the Navy and health service. There was no way they could get the Navy involved in case it all went wrong so that just left the health service; but what could that possibly offer. The drunker they became the more outlandish became their ideas. From surgeons stealing testicles from patients to hard up nurses offering oral sex on the wards to help make ends meet. Another one was a secret spider farm in the basement that was breeding poisonous spiders to be sold to fundamentalist terrorist organisations to help pay for a new security system. On reflection they all fell well short of the desired goals.
They had given up and Bill was making his way to bed when Hank suggested that if he was going to “shag that fat bastard you might as well cover her in iced water because that way you can imagine you are shagging a corpse, and that would be a hell of a lot more fun than fucking her!” Bill stopped abruptly on the stairs and spun around sharply. Hank thought that maybe this time he had gone too far but to his surprise Bill just said;
“That’s it mate, you are a fucking genius, lets get another drink and work out the details.” Hank was totally bemused but sauntered into the kitchen and grabbed another bottle. ”OK so what’s your idea then?”
“Necrophilia mate, that’s what it is.”
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