“Not today,” said Mrs. Bainbridge. “But it is a frequent stop for my son and me. I do believe the navy is in his future.”

“How old is the lad?”

“Six. Too young as yet.”

“Under the current regulations, certainly,” he said. “Back in the days of the sailing ships, he could have begun as a cabin boy.”

“How sad that these opportunities are no longer provided to today’s youths,” said Mrs. Bainbridge.

“So true, Mrs. Bainbridge,” agreed Buchanan-Wollaston. “I myself signed up with the navy when I was fourteen, and I’ve never left it.”

“Fourteen!” exclaimed Mrs. Bainbridge. “My goodness! And you have risen so far! I understand that you were made captain in 1917.”

“Yes, of the Fox. I was the exec of the Cornwall before that. I was mentioned in dispatches for my conduct during the Battle of the Falklands, so naturally, I was on the list for promotion.”

“The ladies will certainly want to hear about that,” said Mrs. Bainbridge.

“Is that the Fox there?” asked Sparks, looking at one of the framed photographs.

“It is, young lady,” he said. “Spent my command with her in the Red Sea. Not much of a war there at the time.”

“Then came the Caesar,” continued Mrs. Bainbridge, looking at her notebook.

“Depot ship,” said Buchanan-Wollaston. “A relic. Couldn’t manage nine knots if a typhoon was blowing up her … stern. Couldn’t tell you how happy I was when they told me to bring her in to be scrapped.”

“And then the Calypso,” said Mrs. Bainbridge. “This was after the war, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Well after,” said Buchanan-Wollaston. “I took her over in twenty-one.”

“Wait, did you say the Calypso?” asked Sparks, suddenly breathless with excitement.

“Yes.”

“And you were her captain in 1921?”

“I was.”

“Were you, by any chance, still her captain in 1922?”

“Yes, until the end of the year. Why?”

“Oh, Mrs. Bainbridge,” exclaimed Sparks. “This is too wonderful!”

“What is it, Miss Sparks?”

“Why, he was the captain who rescued Prince Philip!”

“Were you?” asked Mrs. Bainbridge, rounding on the man.

“You mean Prince Andrea?” he asked. “The Greek chappie?”

“Yes, but his son as well!” said Sparks. “The baby prince!”

“But this is so exciting,” burbled Mrs. Bainbridge. “Oh, we must hear that story at once!”

“But don’t you want to know about the Battle of the Falklands?” he protested weakly.

“Oh, that too, of course,” said Mrs. Bainbridge. “But the ladies are all atwitter about Prince Philip. Rumour has it that he may be the one to capture our own sweet Princess Elizabeth. And she has you to thank!”

“She does?” he said, bewildered. “I had no idea.”

“Come, let’s sit and hear all about it,” said Mrs. Bainbridge, slipping her arm into his. “It’s all so terribly romantic and heroic. I want to know simply everything.”

“There’s not all that much to say,” he said.

“Then we won’t be taking up much of your time hearing it,” said Mrs. Bainbridge. “Where shall we sit?”