Chapter 6

Diane couldn't quite understand where or how things had slipped from her control. She had worked so hard to ensure that her timetable was met. When she first met Jack, she had other prospects in play, but from the moment she kissed him, she had cooled them. Once she bedded Jack, they were out of the picture entirely, and all her skills were used to elicit his proposal of marriage. Jack had been a loving and attentive husband, but Diane had no intention of spending her whole life tied to one man and his goals.

She had proved her femininity by marrying a good prospect, and producing two children. She had been a dutiful wife supporting her husband in his career, attending the tedious business functions to ensure his promotion, and adhering to Jerry Hall's tenets of being "a maid in the living room, a cook in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom." She had even played the dutiful daughter-in-law, agreeing with Jack's mother most of the time but showing enough character to obtain respect as well. She had looked after Harry and Georgie as the best mother should, helping with homework, teaching them to cook and ride, playing in the garden and at the beach. In fact, to any observer, Jack and Diane had the perfect marriage. And that included Jack.

Nevertheless, Diane regarded her marriage as a hiatus in her life. She had been extremely good at her job and had great prospects herself. She would have a husband to support her through the early years of her children's lives, but once they were old enough, she intended to return to making a career for herself, and enjoying all aspects of her life. Not for her, a life of domesticated decline. Once she had proven her motherliness Diane would forge her own future again. This would be financed from the divorce settlement. Not for nothing did she endure the rubber chicken dinners, and warm champagne and tasteless strawberries of corporate hospitality. Since she was being a dutiful wife, Jack would have to provide the capital for the next phase of her life. His advancement was to her benefit and therefore her duty to herself.

Thus far her lifeplan had gone to schedule. She held Jack in deep affection and high regard. She believed that he loved her and she had done her best to nurture that love. She did not have any feelings, though, that she would call love. The one slight complication had been meeting Peter. With him she felt something that she had never felt before. There was an excitement she had never felt before. Her heart lifted when she saw him, and a sexual frisson ran through her. His entry into her life brought forward her timings.

Did the acceleration of her plans produce the loosening of her control on events or was it something she had not understood about her husband?

After the children were born, my parents would keep them over a weekend every couple of months. This allowed Diane and I to spend some time together. Diane seemed to enjoy the break from routine and the opportunity to indulge in an abandonment in the bedroom that wasn't possible with two small children under the same roof.

It was during one of these weekends that we travelled to Devon to look for a holiday home for both weekends and the school holidays. Since we had no mortgage to pay, I decided to invest in a property of our own. What I hadn't factored in was that the property was jointly owned and would become part of any settlement.

I took the Friday off work as time owed. I was no longer on a pay scale where I got overtime, but worked as each job required. I could take time off in lieu of hours worked outside my contract. We arrived in Plymouth to visit the local estate agents for advice on property for sale. Having spent the morning and early part of the afternoon collecting brochures on various properties, we went to a pub overlooking the harbours for lunch. As we entered someone declaimed loudly and clearly, "Bloody 'ell, its 'armless!"

This, of course, meant nothing to Diane, but I turned to the source of the call and responded "Oh no! Not you lot! I thought I'd got rid of you!"

Plymouth is home to Devonport Dockyard, a major Royal Navy base. Sailors from one of the warships in port had also chosen the pub we had selected for lunch. These sailors had previously served on different ships with Lieutenant Winters R.N. The group invited us to join them and whilst I was inclined to decline, Diane accepted the invitation. I suppose she could hardly resist a testosterone charged group of fit, strong, men like them. I think she also expected to find out a little more about me. I didn't talk much about my time in the Navy.

Introductions were made but Diane could hardly catch the names. The accents covered the whole of the British Isles, including Ireland, north and south. The afternoon was one of reminiscence and story telling, with much "do you remember..." and "what happened to..." The pub rocked to our laughter.

During the course of the story telling Diane and I got divided. The sailors, however, did not let Diane become excluded. She was included in every round of drinks bought. They seemed to consider it a point of honour to ensure her glass was always full and that she was included in the conversation. Diane was engrossed with the boisterous tale-telling and barely noticed how much she was drinking, but there again, she seemed to keep her wits about her. It was one of those afternoons where the camaraderie surpasses the effects of alcohol.

This was where she discovered I had had a number of nicknames during my service. The first was F.C. This I had received on my first ship. As a Sub Lieutenant I had been Officer of the Watch. The crew comprising the watch had not discharged their duty to the standard required and as a result I had disciplined them by assigning extra duty. The Petty Officer of the watch, P.O. McVeigh, thought he could brow beat the new officer into rescinding his decision but I stood my ground. I was christened "Fucking Cold" Winters, because of the icy manner I used to deal with McVeigh. At least that's what Diane was told. Actually the P.O. called me "that fucking cunt Winters" and that had stuck as F.C. My second ship christened me "One Eyed Jack". This was a fairly typical ratings jibe that worked on a number of levels. I was known to have a certain skill at cards, despite gambling being prohibited. I was also a member of the ship's boxing team. An officer is always a prime target in these competitions and can expect no quarter. I had received a thumb in the eye during one fight and had to wear an eye patch for a time. This, combined with my middle name of Nelson, earned me the "one eyed" soubriquet.

It was aboard this same ship that I received my final nickname. Damage control has long been a drill extensively practised in the Royal Navy. It is exactly what it says. If the ship is damaged by nature or enemy action all rates are trained to take action to prevent damage getting worse and causing the ship to sink. There are groups formed, of sailors whose role is not directly involved in fighting. They are the damage control party whose role is to take over and do running repairs to maintain the viability of the vessel. I was supervising a drill involving some new equipment. A screw jack was being used to brace two beams. The D.C. party were working beneath it when it suddenly slipped. I saw this and shoved a man out from below it as it fell. The prop fell on my outstretched arms and broke both of them.

A naval Board of Enquiry was established into the accident. All personnel taking part were required to give evidence at the shore establishment which is called a "ship" even though it is a land based building. It was established that there was a fault with the equipment and a signal was sent to the fleet advising new procedures. Once the finding was handed down, we retired to a local hostelry to celebrate.