Civvy Street

by Fiona Field

  ‘God’s honest. He went to see the CO just after lunch, came back to the office to pick up his briefcase, snarled at everyone and then stormed off home. I had to go and see Andy Bailey later about a cock-up on the duty officer rota and he told me what was behind it all.’

  Maddy stopped drying Rose and stared at her husband. ‘Hell’s teeth,’ she whispered.

  ‘That was pretty much my reaction.’

  ‘But why?’

  Seb shrugged. ‘Well...’ He made a drinking gesture with his hand.

  Maddy shook her head. ‘Surely not. They’ve been on the wagon for yonks now.’

  Seb shook his head. ‘But if it’s on his record...’

  Maddy put Rose on the changing mat on top of the bathroom cupboard and deftly fitted her with a clean nappy. Then she grabbed a babygro and started threading Rose’s arms and legs into the right holes. ‘Scary to think something like that can come back to bite you on the bum though, isn’t it.’ Behind her, their son Nathan splashed noisily in the water. Maddy handed the baby to Seb and lifted out Rose’s big brother and pulled the plug. The bathwater slurped noisily down the drain. ‘Come on, young man. Time to get you in your jim-jams.’ She wrapped him in a towel and cuddled him.

  ‘It was hardly a momentary aberration, though, was it? I mean, they were knocking back the sauce like there was no tomorrow for years.’

  ‘I wouldn’t know – you’ve known them much longer than me.’

  ‘Take it from me, they were.’

  ‘Even so, you’ve always said you’ve got a lot of time for Mike.’

  ‘He was never drunk at work – or at least, I’m pretty certain he wasn’t. He was... is... a bl—’ Maddy shot him a warning glance. Nathan had got to the stage when he hoovered up new words into his vocabulary like a Dyson on steroids. ‘A blooming good officer.’

  Still holding Nate, wrapped in his towel, Maddy got to her feet. ‘You get Nathan ready for bed and read him a story. I’ll put Rose down. We can talk some more over supper.’

  Twenty minutes later Maddy was in the kitchen stirring Bolognese sauce to go with the pasta, two glasses of gin and tonic on the table and the radio playing some music quietly when Seb came in and looked at the drinks.

  ‘Makes you wonder if we oughtn’t to cut back a bit,’ he said.

  ‘I don’t think we’re in the Collinses’ league. Not yet, anyway.’

  ‘Maybe not. Cheers.’ Seb picked up a glass with a grin and took a swig.

  ‘So who do you think will take over from Mike as company commander?’

  ‘I don’t really care, just as long as they don’t promote Craig to fill his shoes.’

  Maddy took her drink and stared at Seb. ‘Craig? No way.’ Craig was the B Company 2IC and was, by common consent, an old woman and a waste of space. He was always flapping about health and safety, about Queen’s Regulations, about doing things by the book and, above everything else, had no sense of humour whatsoever.

  ‘He is the second in command.’

  Maddy raised her eyebrows. ‘I suppose. But even so...’

  ‘No, it’s unlikely. But I wonder who they’ll pick to take his place?’

  ‘We’d better just hope it’s someone we like,’ said Maddy, sipping her drink thoughtfully.

  ‘We needn’t worry about that though, just yet. It’ll be months before Mike and Susie have to leave.’

  ‘I’m not sure if that doesn’t make things worse. It’ll be like having some terrible dark cloud hanging over us – like some sort of terminal prognosis.’ Maddy sighed. ‘And what’ll I say when I next see her? Poor Susie. She must be gutted.’

  *

  By the following evening, as Mike had pretty much predicted, the regimental grapevine had disseminated the news of the redundancies throughout the battalion. The living-in officers were gathered around the bar mulling over the casualties on the list. Naturally, Mike Collins was the main candidate for the ‘why him?’ speculation but there were others whose numbers were up: a sergeant major from C Company, the RQMS, Sergeant McManners who was the officers’ mess manager, some corporals and half a dozen privates who had outstayed their welcome and who had failed to get promoted – or who had been promoted and had been busted once or twice too often. The atmosphere was subdued as everyone came to terms with the fact that while they had planned on a career for life in uniform, the army wasn’t necessarily in agreement.

  ‘So,’ said Samantha Lewis, the REME officer in charge of the battalion’s workshop, ‘I suppose all of you lot,’ she gestured to her mess mates who were all junior officers serving in the 1st Battalion of the Hertfordshire Regiment, ‘are waiting to see who gets promoted into Mike’s place. I mean,’ she said, taking a sip of white wine, ‘isn’t this a case of an ill wind...?’

  A couple of the men shuffled uneasily and it seemed to Sam that was exactly what they thought.

  ‘Not really,’ said James Rosser, who was one of Sam’s best friends and had been since she’d arrived in the battalion some eighteen months previously. ‘Anyway, knowing the army, they’ll probably parachute an officer in from our sister battalion. You know what the postings branch is like – it seems to be their raison d’être to piss off the maximum number of officers as often as possible.’

  Sam laughed. ‘Cynical but true. Anyway, it’s nothing to do with me since my little empire is almost autonomous, but I just hope for everyone else that whoever they choose is popular with the troops.’

  Chapter 2

  Horrified by the bombshell their parents had just dropped, Ella and Katie Collins, home from boarding school for the weekend, stared at each other and then at their mum and dad.

  ‘It’s only a possibility,’ said Susie, placatingly. ‘If Daddy gets a really cracking job then we’ll be able to keep you at Browndown. But, darlings, the fees are ridiculous and without the army’s help...’

  Ella narrowed her eyes. Both she and her twin sister, for eleven, were remarkably astute. ‘So where would we go to school?’

  ‘Sweetie, it depends on where we buy a house.’

  ‘You know what I mean,’ she snapped.

  ‘It’d have to be the local school,’ said their father.

  ‘You mean a comp,’ said Katie with a sneer.

  ‘There are some very nice comps. Honestly,’ said Susie.

  ‘Really?’ said the twins in unison and in disbelief. Then they looked at each other again and left the room, slamming the door behind them.

  ‘That went well,’ said Susie, quietly.

  Mike sighed. ‘We knew they wouldn’t like the news. Maybe we shouldn’t have told them. Or not just yet anyway.’

  ‘Like they wouldn’t have heard about your redundancy from other kids on the patch? And then they’d have done the sum and worked out for themselves that their chances of staying at boarding school were minimal. Besides, if they’re not being moved from pillar to post, why would they even need to board? I suppose there’s just a possibility we might be able to afford to get them into a half-decent private day school.’

  ‘The fees are still crippling for anything that’s worth its salt. Anyway, it’s better they are faced with the worst-case scenario so if things aren’t quite as bleak they’ll be pleased rather than horribly disappointed. But it might not come to that. It isn’t a completely impossible idea that they’ll be able to stay put.’ Mike tried to look hopeful.

  Susie sighed. ‘Come off it, Mike. Without the army’s support we’ll have to find over fifty thousand a year of taxed income. I know you’re a clever and resourceful man, darling, but will you really be able to land a job that’ll earn that sort of dosh? And of course I’m going to get back into harness but a year at a finishing school, learning to cook and how to get in and out of a sports car gracefully, isn’t the best qualification in the world. We have to be realistic and accept that our lifestyle might be very different in the not too distant future.’

  Mike smiled reassuringly. ‘We’ll muddle through.’

  ‘But that’s jus
t it, Mike. I don’t want to muddle through. I want order and security and...’ Susie felt a pricking at the back of her nose and tears start to form in her eyes. She stopped and breathed deeply to regain her self-control. Now was not the moment to feel sorry for herself or go blaming Mike, or the system, or her parents for squandering her inheritance with a hare-brained scheme to up sticks and bugger off to Spain, or his for getting duped by a smarmy so-called financial adviser. It wouldn’t do anyone any good and would just be a pointless exercise. They were where they were. And furthermore, the last thing she should do right now was make Mike feel worse; as if he didn’t have enough on his plate he certainly didn’t need a dollop of guilt, ladled on by her, to add to everything else. Susie might have her faults but she was loyal and supportive and she loved her husband deeply.

  The doorbell rang.

  ‘What now?’ Susie pushed herself out of her chair and went to answer it.

  ‘Maddy. How nice,’ she lied, when she saw who the caller was. She liked Maddy, she really did, but Susie didn’t feel like receiving visitors. It was hard enough holding herself together in front of her family without having to put on an act for her neighbours too.

  ‘Susie, I’ve heard the news and I want to tell you how shocked I am.’

  Susie raised her eyebrows. ‘I dare say I was more shocked.’

  ‘God, yes, of course you were. I didn’t mean...’ Maddy ground to a halt. ‘I just want you to know that Seb and I think the whole thing is appallingly unfair and if there’s anything we can do...’

  Susie held the door wide to allow Maddy to step inside. ‘Maddy, much as I appreciate your support I don’t think there’s much you can do.’

  ‘No... well. But you know what I mean.’

  ‘I do. But, and let’s be brutally honest here, I bet it’s tempered by a large dose of “thank God it’s them not us”.’

  ‘Susie, of course I didn’t think that.’ Maddy held her friend’s gaze for a second or two before dropping her eyes. ‘Well, it never crossed my mind that the redundancies would include any officers from here. And it was awful when I found out that it did and that you and Mike were the casualties.’

  Susie led the way into the sitting room.

  ‘Hi, Mike,’ said Maddy. ‘I just came to say how sorry I am about the news.’

  ‘Tea?’ offered Susie.

  Maddy nodded. ‘But only if you and Mike are having one.’

  Susie went into the kitchen.

  ‘Have a seat,’ said Mike.

  Maddy perched on a nearby chair.

  ‘Thanks for coming round,’ said Mike. ‘Susie and I are feeling a bit bereft at the moment, as you might imagine. Being told you’re being made redundant is a bit like being told you’ve got a terminal illness – people don’t know what to say, so they ignore you rather than risk saying the wrong thing. Which is daft. As far as I can see the only “wrong thing” you might be able to say is “hooray and good riddance”.’

  Maddy grinned. ‘No one would say that.’

  ‘I think Jack Rayner had to hold back.’

  ‘Yeah, but that’s Rayner for you, isn’t it,’ said Maddy.

  ‘Indeed.’

  ‘Seb’s gutted.’

  ‘I suppose he doesn’t fancy getting used to a new boss.’

  ‘No, he likes you and the way you do things. Besides, he’s worried it might be Craig.’

  ‘No way. He’s already over-promoted, in my opinion.’

  Maddy nodded. ‘And I’ll miss having Susie as a neighbour.’

  ‘We’re not going just yet.’

  ‘No, I know, but all the same...’

  ‘Thank you, it’s appreciated. Susie and I were thinking we might try and stay in the area. At least if we do that we can still see our old muckers from time to time.’

  Susie reappeared with a tray of mugs. ‘And house prices aren’t completely ridiculous around here.’

  ‘Although the job prospects might be a bit iffy,’ said Mike. ‘Still, I could easily commute to a bigger town... Salisbury or Trowbridge or somewhere.’

  ‘But you’ll find something,’ said Maddy, accepting a mug from Susie.

  ‘Yes,’ said Mike. ‘Of course I will.’ But his words showed far more confidence than his tone of voice suggested.

  *

  After the hiatus of the news of the redundancies, life at 1 Herts settled down for the ensuing weeks. Speculation as to who would fill the vacancies ground to a halt and, for those officers and men not directly affected, the news receded into the background. In fact, for the vast majority of the 1 Herts’ soldiers who subscribed to an I’m-all-right-Jack mentality, the whole business was largely forgotten. However, this was not the case in the Collins’ household where matters were getting increasingly tense.

  Mike had been on a course run by a recruiting agency designed to teach the redundant officers the best way to present their CVs, how to market themselves, how to write really excellent letters when applying for jobs and how to conduct themselves in interviews. It was, Mike had told Susie on his return, mostly basic common sense but it had been useful all the same. Armed with his new skills and fired with enthusiasm, Mike had scoured the appointments sections of the quality papers and fired off loads of applications. And now they were waiting for the replies.

  Mike returned home from work at lunchtime as he usually did. After dropping his beret onto the hall table, he picked up his post; three letters, personally addressed to him so not spam. His heart rate quickened; he knew what these would be. Eagerly he ripped open the first envelope.

  Dear Major Collins, We regret to inform you...

  Fuck. He opened the next.

  Dear Major Collins, While Bingham and Co appreciate your eagerness to work for this company, it is with regret...

  Shit. He opened the last.

  Dear Major Collins, We are sorry...

  Bollocks.

  He felt his shoulders slump. He had been sure he’d been in with a cracking shot for all of those positions. He’d had the qualifications, the experience, the know-how. And he wasn’t over the hill. He was still young; he was only in his mid-thirties, for heaven’s sake. Wasn’t that the perfect age; young enough to still be open to new ideas and working practices but old enough to have plenty of experience? Angrily he screwed up the letters and stamped into the kitchen.

  Susie looked up from the pan of tomato soup she was stirring. She saw the look on Mike’s face. ‘What’s happened now?’

  ‘Rejections. Three of them.’

  Susie walked over to her husband and gave him a hug. ‘There’s other fish in the sea. It’s early days yet.’

  Mike sighed. ‘I just... Well, I thought I’d be beating offers off with a stick.’

  ‘You will be, I’m sure of it. So who’s turned you down?’

  Mike uncrumpled the letters and smoothed them out on the table. ‘This lot.’

  Susie glanced at the letterheads. ‘Obviously companies with no taste and possibly worse management skills. You’ve probably had a lucky escape.’

  She turned back to the stove and began to dish out the soup. ‘Anyway, I’ve been thinking...’ she said as she ladled their lunch into a couple of bowls.

  ‘And?’

  ‘You know McManners, the mess manager, is being given the heave-ho too?’ Mike nodded. ‘Supposing I applied to do his job.’

  Mike shook his head. ‘No.’

  Susie put both bowls on the table and sat down. ‘Why not? I understand basic accounting having run the thrift shop, I understand about catering and, God knows, I understand about 1 Herts. I’d be perfect.’

  ‘It wouldn’t be appropriate. It’s not a job for an officer’s wife.’

  Susie raised an eyebrow. ‘I hate to tell you this, sweetie, but when this job falls vacant I won’t be an officer’s wife.’

  Mike stared at her, his spoon halfway to his mouth. ‘That was a bit of a low blow.’

  ‘Don’t be so touchy, it’s the truth.’ She stared at Mike. ‘I’m goin
g to apply.’

  ‘I’d rather you didn’t.’

  ‘It’s a job. It’s income. Anyway, I may not get it.’ Susie tucked into her soup.

  Mike considered what Susie had said about not getting the job and wondered if he could make sure she didn’t. It wouldn’t be ethical but it might be possible. It was a sergeant’s job, not one for a major’s wife. It would be demeaning. And how would she cope with complaints from junior officers – officers who had once held her in esteem and now she’d be their paid lackey? He turned his attention back to his soup and carried on eating. Not worth kicking off a row about it now, the job hadn’t even been advertised. Maybe when it had been and if Susie applied for it, maybe he’d try and get her to see his point of view then. And if she didn’t? Well, maybe then he’d try and kibosh her plans.

  *

  ‘You’re late,’ said Maddy as Seb arrived home for lunch fifteen minutes after she’d been expecting him. She was in the kitchen clearing up the mess left from the kids’ lunches.

  ‘Had to see Rayner.’

  ‘Poor you. What about?’

  ‘That’s the thing...’

  Maddy looked at him expectantly. ‘What’s the thing?’

  ‘I’m getting acting rank and taking over from Mike.’

  Maddy’s eyes widened. ‘You! Bloody hell. No, I mean congratulations and clever, clever you.’ She put down the dishcloth and gave her husband a kiss. ‘Craig must be pissed off. He must have thought he was in with a shout.’

  ‘It’s not common knowledge yet, so don’t say anything.’

  ‘Does Mike know?’

  Seb shook his head. ‘Rayner’s telling him this afternoon.’

  Maddy took a loaf out of the bread bin and began buttering slices to make them both a sandwich. ‘How do you think he’ll take it?’

  Seb shrugged. ‘Badly, I should think.’

  ‘You reckon?’

  ‘It’s a bit of a kick in the teeth, in my view. I’m not exactly his equal, am I? I think if he’d been getting replaced by a senior major he might feel a bit more valued but as it is...’