Another Life

by Sara MacDonald

  ‘Let’s hope the other two made it,’ Andrew mutters. ‘You OK, Josh?’

  Josh nods solemnly. ‘Never been better, Andrew.’

  They grin at each other wryly.

  The door is opened and they are pulled outside. A small group of villagers come and stare at them with hostile faces. All men. One spits at their feet.

  ‘American! Pah!’

  ‘British,’ Andrew says. ‘We are British.’

  They are quickly surrounded and pushed and poked with sticks, from one Arab to another like a rough playground game organized by the school bully. They begin to chant and the chant gains momentum. Josh feels sick. They are revving each other up and as the punches grow harder and harder both men know that if they fall they have had it.

  Josh, giddy, wills himself not to stumble. Charlie used to frighten him silly with his warning about pigs: ‘If you fall in a pigpen they will savage and eat you.’

  There is the sound of a Land Rover and an Arab festooned with armoury and headdress leaps out and shouts at the men. The punching and shouting stops immediately and the group grows ominously quiet.

  The Arab looks at them both and then indicates they are both to be taken back to the derelict building. Ten minutes later two dirty mattresses are thrown through the door. Then a chair. Their hands are untied. The man comes and sits on the chair back-to-front and both Josh and Andrew have a mad desire to laugh. He has obviously seen too many old Westerns. He has a bottle of water and two glasses. He politely pours water and hands the glasses to Josh and Andrew who drink greedily. This is Mr Nice Guy.

  ‘Who are you?’ he asks in English.

  ‘British helicopter pilots.’

  ‘Why you here?’

  ‘Our helicopter was damaged by Iraqi fire; we had to make an emergency landing.’

  ‘What you doing in helicopter?’

  ‘Maintaining the no-fly zone.’

  ‘I say what you do?’

  ‘Just observers. We are observers.’

  ‘I think spies?’

  ‘No, we are both army pilots, not spies.’

  The sweat trickles down Josh’s face and into his eyes.

  ‘You?’ the man says. ‘Why you afraid if only pilot?’

  ‘I’m not afraid, I’m hot. It is very hot in here.’

  Andrew says quickly, ‘We are pilots with a damaged helicopter, that is all we are. Look at how we are dressed.’

  The man stands up. ‘We will see,’ he says and leaves abruptly.

  Josh crawls onto the filthy mattress and closes his eyes. Andrew follows slowly.

  ‘What are you thinking?’ Josh asks without opening his eyes.

  ‘I am thinking, Josh, we must take any chance to escape. There was something odd about that guy. Something not quite right.’

  Night comes and they are left alone. They have been given water and inedible dry biscuits. They hear the guard outside coughing and spitting, and he keeps them awake twiddling the knobs of his radio. There is a constant coming and going of vehicles and an air of tension.

  Both mattresses are full of lice and they lie, itching and scratching, unable and unwilling to sleep.

  Their guard stops twiddling his radio or cleaning his gun and peers through the grille every now and then to see if they have mysteriously disappeared.

  Josh and Andrew realize he has tuned into the BBC World Service, probably by mistake. As they crane to listen they are horrified to realize that their guard must be listening to the eager imagination of a journalist describing with relish the various gruesome torture and treatment Saddam and his henchmen might inflict on any captured servicemen. He also speculates on the feelings of the missing servicemen if they have been captured, and what could be happening to them right now.

  ‘Fucking idiot,’ Andrew mutters.

  ‘Arsehole,’ Josh agrees. ‘Let’s hope the guy outside doesn’t understand a word of English.’

  Both men vow to find the journalist if they make it back home.

  There is a flurry of activity outside and the door is thrown open. They are ordered outside and into the Land Rover. They are surrounded by nervous Iraqis waving their guns about and shouting. Something seems to have unnerved them.

  Is this it? Josh thinks. Are they going to be driven to Baghdad to be interrogated? Or killed somewhere where no one will ever find their bodies?

  Gabby and Nell were watching the midday news and suddenly clutched each other in excitement.

  ‘There is an unconfirmed report that two of the British soldiers from the stricken helicopter shot down over Iraq have been rescued. We will bring you news of the situation as it comes in.’

  The phone rang and Gabby reached for it, her heart pumping. It was Simon. She felt giddy and breathless.

  ‘Gabrielle? Are you watching the news?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘We have an unconfirmed report that two British soldiers have just been airlifted out of Iraq by an American helicopter crew and are on their way to the American air base in Turkey. Until they reach the safety of the base we cannot announce or confirm their names. Stay by the phone and I will ring you as soon as I know.’

  ‘Thank you. Thank you.’

  The officer’s voice was cautious. ‘Gabrielle, it might not be Josh.’

  ‘I know. I know it might not, but it’s hopeful isn’t it …? If they’ve found two the others could be picked up any time … couldn’t they?’

  ‘Yes, they could. I will ring you as soon as I hear anything.’

  Gabby turned to Nell. ‘Good news! Two soldiers from the helicopter have been airlifted out and are on their way back to the American air base in Turkey.’

  They looked at each other, suddenly sure that it was going to be all right. Nell said quietly, ‘When will we know whether it is Josh?’

  ‘Soon. Simon is going to ring straight back.’

  ‘You stay by the phone. I’ll go and find Charlie.’

  ‘Nell, we don’t know yet if it is Josh.’

  ‘I know, but he will want to be kept abreast.’

  Alone in the kitchen, Gabby thought, There are four mothers or wives feeling like I do. If it is Josh, it is not one of their sons. She knelt and stroked Shadow’s ears. The dog placed her paw on Gabby’s knee and licked her cheek, a thing she never did for Shadow was fairly haughty with humans. Gabby smiled, bent to hug the dog … Who says dogs don’t understand?

  The phone blared out into the room making her jump. She stood up and grabbed it from the cradle.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Simon said. ‘I am afraid neither of the soldiers was Josh. Gabrielle … are you still there?’

  Hope had risen so high and was now so cruelly dashed. The officer on the end of the phone could hear the small desperate sound Gabby was making and felt powerless.

  ‘Gabrielle, I am so, so sorry. But it is good news, the rescued soldiers will be able to tell us much about the situation and it really does bode well for the safety of the others.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Gabby managed.

  ‘Don’t apologize, it’s why I’m here. I wish I could give you better news. I cannot imagine what it feels like …’

  His voice was concerned, upset. ‘Are you all right now? Is anyone with you?’

  ‘Yes, I’m fine, really.’

  ‘I’ll see what else I can find out and ring you during the day. Ring me with any worries or if you hear anything you want to confirm or discount. Remember the media are not always correct.’

  Elan came in, breathless. He had been down to the village for the papers and goodies he knew Gabby might eat.

  ‘I’ve just met Nell …?’

  ‘Two of the crew have been picked up, but not Josh, Elan.’

  ‘Oh, darling …’

  Elan dared not touch Gabby. She held her hands up to ward him off, knowing she would dissolve and she must not yet.

  ‘It won’t be long now, Gabby, I am sure of it … Look, I’ve bought straw bugs and fruit so I can make you a fruit salad.’ He pulled them
out of the bag. ‘They will slip down your throat, you won’t even notice …’

  Gabby smiled, ‘I’m so glad you’re here, Elan.’

  Elan kissed the top of her head. ‘These days will pass and seem a distant dream, darling. They will.’

  He began to unpack the rest of his bag.

  ‘It is rather a treat to be close enough, just, to walk to the village. Now I’m old I miss that … I’m so forgetful. Gabby, so many people have sent their best wishes. I met John, too, he is coming up later. Prayers are being said in all the village churches and in Truro cathedral.’

  ‘Josh would be amazed.’

  ‘He would indeed.’

  Elan went on talking and Gabby was grateful. She could not listen for long, could not concentrate even on the papers. She opened them up. It was so odd to see Josh’s name in print. It was all so speculative. Why were there always so many experts?

  Gabby folded the paper away. ‘I’m just going to my workroom, Elan. I want to see what is on the Internet.’

  ‘Is that wise?’ Elan turned from the sink where he was washing fruit.

  ‘It gives me something to do. If the phone goes I’ll answer it in there.’

  As Gabby switched on her computer her incoming e-mails came up. Lucinda. Various people she had worked for. The curator of the National Portrait Gallery. Mark.

  Gabby looked at that familiar e-mail address and trembled. She opened all the others and their messages touched her. She wanted to open Mark’s e-mail so badly it hurt. She imagined what it would be like for her if he was going through something bad and he shut her out. Yet to touch that button would be a betrayal to Charlie and to Josh.

  She e-mailed Lucinda, knowing she would pass her message on. By the time she had been on the Internet and printed stuff off for Charlie and Nell to see, there was a reply from Lucinda.

  Dearest Gabby,

  So relieved to have your e-mail. WE have been so worried about you. Just know WE are thinking about you night and day, do not feel alone. Two soldiers are out and it will be Josh soon. Hang on to that. Know too that we are both here any time. I wish I could find the words to let you know how much we both care and we are thinking of you every moment.

  With love,

  Lucinda xx

  Gabrielle sniffed and replied: ‘Thank you. Your e-mail means a lot.’

  The phone was silent, all day it was silent, and when she could bear it no longer and rang Simon, he said gently, ‘I was just going to ring you to see if you were all right. You have not rung all day.’

  ‘I was trying not to bother you.’

  ‘Then don’t. Ring as much as you like, OK?’

  ‘OK. Simon, there is no news, is there?’

  ‘I am afraid it is very silent. We have heard nothing.’

  ‘Is that bad?’

  ‘No. It can be for a number of security reasons. Believe me, there will be a lot of activity going on behind the scenes. We have to be patient.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Goodnight.’

  ‘Goodnight, Simon, thank you.’

  Another day ended with Josh missing. Gabby, held in like a spring, was unsure how much more she could bear.

  Chapter 53

  The sun was trapped behind cloud so that the heat still pressed down, unrelieved. Gabby would not walk beyond the garden in case she missed the phone. She moved round and round the house, in and out, and Charlie and Nell watched as she began to fragment.

  When the newspapers arrived the missing helicopter crew were no longer headline news, and for all of them this was somehow worse than the screaming headlines. Gabby could not bear it, for the world was moving on and there were still missing soldiers out there and they were going to be forgotten. She raked through the papers for some significant mention and could find none.

  She rang Simon.

  ‘It is odd,’ he said. ‘We think there’s been a news blackout. Hang in there, Gabrielle, obviously there is something major going on behind the scenes and as soon as I find out anything I’ll ring you.’

  Elan had had to go home for the day to fetch paintings he needed framing and take them into Penzance. Charlie could not decide what to do, how far from the house it was safe to go. He could feel the situation coming to a head and instinctively knew it could go either way. There would not be a press blackout unless the situation was dire.

  In the end he got in the Land Rover and went round his fields, checking the water and the litter-bins and how many people he had on his land. Nell, like Gabby, had not slept for days and felt exhausted. She made an attempt at cleaning a painting which she had brought into the farmhouse kitchen to be near Gabby, but her heart was not in it.

  Gabby was relentlessly cleaning Josh’s room, even taking down the curtains, but her interest and concentration kept wandering and she left things half done. Nell followed in her wake, gathering and putting back.

  They were both in the old scullery when the phone went. Gabby ran and snatched it up. This has got to be news. But it was a woman who had somehow got through and wondered if Gabby could restore an old painting of her grandmother’s.

  Something snapped in Gabby. She screamed down the phone: ‘Get off the line! Get off this line this minute. You are blocking my calls, do you hear me? You are blocking my calls.’

  Nell took the phone and apologized, and explained to the mortified woman. Gabby had rushed from the room out into the garden. She was shaking from head to foot and was so weak from lack of sleep and food that she had to crouch on the grass. It was as if she no longer had a spine to keep herself upright and she felt strange and light-headed as though she might blow away.

  Nell came and walked her back inside, made her lie down, placed the phone beside her and went and made tea. When she returned, Gabby had fallen into an exhausted sleep. Nell sat in the chair opposite her, leant back and closed her own eyes.

  She concentrated hard on an imagined place Josh might be and tried to will the missing soldiers safe; feel an outcome, as she sometimes could. But all Nell could see and feel was a blurred fuzziness and she knew that the fate of those boys must hang in the balance.

  Charlie came in at lunchtime and they sat and watched the one o’clock news. There was a small feature on Baghdad, on the ordinary people in the street who suffered most from the stringent UN sanctions and who wanted peace. Then there was a mention of the ongoing negotiations to find out the whereabouts of the two remaining British soldiers: the pilot, Captain Josh Ellis, and the senior officer with him, Major Andrew O’Conner. The fact that the Iraqi regime had not come forward with names of any British servicemen gave hope that they might have managed to evade capture.

  Charlie felt better. ‘You hear that, Gab? That’s really good news, something to hold on to.’

  Josh’s colonel and Marika rang in the afternoon and Gabby was glad to talk to them. They talked on Gabby’s mobile so that the main telephone line was free. Marika had rung every day and Josh’s colonel was upbeat, but if he knew anything he was not telling Gabby.

  Gabby was sitting in the garden with the radio, pulling weeds half-heartedly out of the border when there was a newsflash: ‘It is believed one of the two remaining British officers from the downed helicopter has been rescued and airlifted to safety …’

  The phone rang out and Gabby grabbed it.

  ‘Simon?’

  ‘One British soldier has been picked up …’

  ‘Do you …?’

  Simon said quickly, ‘Gabby, we don’t know who it is yet.’

  ‘Please, ring me as soon as you know.’

  ‘Of course.’

  Nell was standing in the doorway.

  ‘They’ve found one soldier.’ Gabby’s voice wobbled.

  Nell was suddenly tearful. ‘Please, please God, let it be Josh.’

  Gabby had resumed pacing. Please … please … please …

  The phone rang again and Gabby reached out for it, and Nell’s hand, too.

  ‘I’m sorry, Gabby. It’s not the
pilot, not Josh, but the senior officer. I am so sorry.’

  Gabby burst into tears. ‘I’m not sure how much more I can bear.’

  Simon let his breath out. ‘It is so very hard.’

  Silence. Both were reluctant to put the phone down.

  ‘Gabrielle, you are doing so well. It’s a terrible waiting game, I know. I will ring when I’ve heard more details. Try and hang in there. OK?’

  ‘OK.’

  White-faced, both women stared at each other. It meant Josh was somewhere out there alone.

  Charlie came in and they told him. The cows were brought in for milking, their sweet milky smell filling the yard. Charlie poured himself and Nell a whisky. They switched the early evening news on.

  Suddenly there was an interruption and a newsflash and fuzzy pictures on the screen, of the American air base in Turkey. Darkness and distant shots of American soldiers and trucks standing in groups by an airfield. Then the announcer said excitedly, ‘We have news of the possible rescue of the last missing officer, the pilot of the stricken helicopter …’

  Gabby was already dialling, ‘Simon … Simon … on the news … now … It says the last British officer might have been rescued?’

  ‘Gabrielle, I’ve heard nothing. I’m sorry, I think it might just be a rumour. I don’t think it’s true. Stay on the line, I’m going to check …’

  Charlie was going into Ceefax. ‘Tell him it’s up here in black and white, Gabby.’

  Simon came back on the line. ‘Gabrielle, please don’t get your hopes up, I can’t verify this. I will get back to you, I promise, but I can’t confirm.’

  Gabby and Nell and Charlie stayed glued to the television all evening. Gabby could feel her heart swelling with hope. There was no more coverage and by mid-evening they were all beginning to think the BBC had made a mistake when there was a sudden and frenzied switch to the American air base. The pictures were still in darkness but there were now Land Rovers with Red Cross on the sides and heavily armed troops everywhere. There was a feverish air of tension and activity.

  Oh God! Oh God! Josh. Josh. Is he hurt? Wounded?