On the Beach by Nevil Shute

been taught in childhood and then he sat back, looking around. The little church was very like the church in his own town, in Mystic, Connecticut. It even smelt the same.
    That girl Moira Davidson certainly was all mixed up. She drank too much, but some people never could accept things as they were. She was a nice kid, though. He thought Sharon would like her.
    In the tranquillity of the church he set himself to think about his family, and to visualise them. He was,essentially, a very simple man. He would be going back to them in September, home from his travels. He would see them all again in less than nine months’ time. They must not feel, when he rejoined them, that he was out of touch, or that he had forgotten things that were important in their lives. Junior must have grown quite a bit; kids did at that age. He had probably outgrown the coonskin cap and outfit, mentally and physically. It was time he had a fishing rod, a little Fiberglas spinning rod, and learned to use it. It would be fun teaching Junior to fish. His birthday was July the 10th. Dwight couldn’t send the rod for his birthday, and probably he couldn’t take it with him, though that would be worth trying. Perhaps he could get one over there.
    Helen’s birthday was April the 17th; she would be six then. Again, he’d miss her birthday unless something happened to
Scorpion
. He must remember to tell her he was sorry, and he must think of something to take her between now and September. Sharon would explain to her on the day, would tell her that Daddy was away at sea, but he’d be coming home before the winter and he’d bring his present then. Sharon would make it all right with Helen.
    He sat there thinking of his family throughout the service, kneeling when other people knelt and standing when they stood. From time to time he roused himself to take part in the simple and uncomplicated words of a hymn, but for the rest of the time he was lost in a daydream of his family and of his home. He walked out of the church at the end of the service mentally refreshed. Outside the church he knew nobody and nobody knew him; the vicar smiled at him uncertainly in the porch and he smiled back, and then he was strolling back uphill in the warm sunlight, his head now full of
Scorpion
, thesupplies, and the many chores he had to do, the many checks he had to make, before he took her to sea.
    At the house he found Mary and Moira Davidson sitting in deck chairs on the verandah, the baby in its pram beside them. Mary got up from her chair as he walked up to them. “You look hot,” she said. “Take off your coat and come and sit down in the shade. You found the church all right?”
    “Why, yes,” he said. He took his coat off and sat down on the edge of the verandah. “You’ve got a mighty fine congregation,” he observed. “There wasn’t a seat vacant.”
    “It wasn’t always like that,” she said drily. “Let me get you a drink.”
    “I’d like something soft,” he said. He eyed their glasses. “What’s that you’re drinking?”
    Miss Davidson replied, “Lime juice and water. All right, don’t say it.”
    He laughed. “I’d like one of those, too.” Mary went off to get it for him, and he turned to the girl. “Did you get any breakfast this morning?”
    “Haifa banana and a small brandy,” she said equably. “I wasn’t very well.”
    “It was the whisky,” he said. “That was the mistake you made.”
    “One of them,” she replied. “I don’t remember anything after talking to you on the lawn, after the party. Did you put me to bed?”
    He shook his head. “I thought that was Mrs. Holmes’ job.”
    She smiled faintly. “You missed an opportunity. I must remember to thank Mary.”
    “I should do that. She’s a mighty nice person, Mrs. Holmes.”
    “She says you’re going back to Williamstown this afternoon. Can’t you stay and have another bathe?”
    He shook his head. “I’ve got a lot to do on board before tomorrow. We go