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passenger of the Rolls. A side window was furiously wound down.
    ‘Are you blind! ’
    The Bodger became aware of a large leonine face and a black bowler hat. He caught a glimpse of heavy, lowering yellow eyebrows, a pink carnation, and a thick gloved hand.
    ‘Are you blind, I say?’ repeated the domineering, arrogant voice.
    ‘No,’ said The Bodger, politely.
    ‘God damn your impertinent eyes, sir! I say you must be blind! Didn’t you see my car?’
    ‘I did. I also assumed that the driver knew the rule of the road and would allow through traffic to pass first.’
    ‘I’ll drive my car where I damned well like in this yard!’
    ‘As you wish,’ said The Bodger. ‘It’s no concern of mine if you choose to kill yourself on the road. But it would be a pity if you killed someone else at the same time.’
    So saying, The Bodger reversed, turned round and drove off.
    Apart from that minor contretemps, preparations for the refit conference were very much as The Bodger had forecast. The conference was held in Harvey McNichol & Drummond’s main boardroom and was attended by fifty-seven people. Dagwood counted them. Every department in Harvey McNichol & Drummond’s was represented, together with the firm’s main sub-contractors. Admiral Submarines was represented several times. So also were Admiralty research establishments dealing with sonar and radar, and several sections from the Admiralty at Bath, and there were other representatives whom Dagwood was unable to identify.
    Assuming an average salary of fifteen hundred pounds a year, Dagwood calculated that there was approaching a hundred thousand pounds’ worth of talent on view.
    ‘Lot of high-priced help here today, sir,’ he said to Mr Tybalt.
    ‘You should be flattered. You’ve got all the King’s horses and all the King’s men.’ Mr Tybalt looked at the row of Harvey McNichol & Drummond faces opposite him. ‘That’s the First Fifteen there. You’ve even got Sir Rollo.’
    The conference fell swiftly into shape. Everyone present knew his place in the battle formation. The seating plan was evident. The yard men and their supporters sat on one side of the table. The Admiralty sat on the other. An Admiralty Overseer sitting among the ranks of Harvey McNichol & Drummond’s would have been about as incredible as Horatius taking up arms for the ranks of Tusculum. The Chairman sat halfway down one side of the table with Mr Day on his right and on either side of them the managers of departments, all wearing those expressions of permanent pessimism which are inbred amongst shipyard managers. Opposite the Chairman sat Mr Tybalt and on either side of him sat the Admiralty Overseers, each Admiralty man facing his counterpart in the firm. Thus Mr Swales, The Principal Electrical Overseer, directly confronted his personal opponent Mr Burlap, Harvey McNichol & Drummond’s electrical ship manager. Mr Vietch, the Admiralty Engineer Overseer, glared straight into the eyes of Mr McGillvray, the engineering ship manager. Behind the main combatants were drawn up secondary and tertiary lines of assistants, personal secretaries, satellites, seconds, henchmen and auxiliaries, ready to give information, matches, murmured words of solace or smelling salts at moment’s notice. The lists were drawn up. The battle was pitched. At the far end of the table sat the reason for the assembly, the prize over whose bodies the battle would be lost and won - Dagwood, Ollie and The Bodger.
    The Bodger had attended several refit conferences during his career but he had never before seen a refitting shipyard present such a united front. Harvey McNichol & Drummond’s van was as solid as a Roman testudo and as uncompromising as an army with banners. The Bodger was suspicious of such a show of strength. In particular he mistrusted the Chairman. The Bodger had the normal naval officer’s ignorance of civilian firms; he knew very little of the managerial caste in industry; but he could