by Fiona Field
‘So,’ she said, ‘what was it like standing on the podium?’
‘It’s all a bit of a blur,’ said Rollo. ‘The whole event was just so bonkers: the noise as we got to the grandstands; the media circus; the interviews; that thing in Trafalgar Square afterwards... I mean, don’t get me wrong, it was fab but the whole thing blew my mind a bit.’
‘That, and the drink he consumed celebrating,’ added Seb.
Maddy pushed the plate of warm sausage rolls into the little group and everyone took one.
‘And who could blame him,’ said Mike, taking a bite of his. ‘I knew some army rowers – pretty serious ones who did Henley. Their training regime seemed bloody harsh – all the things they were and weren’t allowed to do. I seem to recall that drinking was one of the proscribed things.’ He finished his sausage roll and took another one as Maddy was still holding a half-full plate.
‘I don’t recall that ever applying to Rollo,’ said Seb.
‘Oi,’ said Rollo, ‘I’ll have you know that when we went to the training camp barely a drop touched my lips for weeks. And talking of drink...?’ He nodded at Susie and Mike’s empty glasses.
‘Oh, just fruit juice or lemonade for us,’ said Susie.
‘You sure? You can’t be driving, surely. Don’t you live on the patch?’ said Rollo.
Maddy shot Seb a significant look. He picked up her silent message that the conversation was straying into dodgy territory. ‘I’ll get the drinks,’ he cut in before Rollo could try and force Mike and Susie to reveal the reason for their abstinence.
‘So,’ said Susie, ‘what brings you to this neck of the woods – apart from visiting Seb and Maddy?’
‘House-hunting.’
Bugger, thought Maddy, another minefield. But there was nothing she could do about this new conversation, not without looking crass and obvious.
‘What a fantastic choice there is round here,’ Rollo was saying. ‘All those wonderful villages and some of those old farm houses and barn conversions...’
Maddy glanced at Susie; her mouth was set in a tight line.
‘Mind you,’ continued Rollo, oblivious to Susie’s discomfiture, ‘there’s a place I saw today which knocks the spots off almost everything else – a bit outside my budget but worth it, in my opinion. It’s an old manor in Ashton-cum-Bavant, right on the village green. Jacobean and an absolute beaut of a place. Seven bedrooms, the most wonderful staircase and it’s even got a ballroom. OK, not a very big ballroom, but how many houses do you come across that even have one to start with?’
Susie forced a smile and took her refilled glass from Seb with a brief nod of thanks.
Rollo turned to Seb. ‘I was just telling Susie and Mike about that manor house we saw today,’ he said. ‘You know the one. Tell them what a fab place it is.’
Maddy looked at Seb again. Nooo.
‘Well, I think it’s probably a bit over-the-top for us ordinary folk,’ said Seb.
‘Come off it,’ said Rollo. ‘You lot must be in the ideal position to buy a nice pad – jobs for life, fat government pension guaranteed at the end of it, renting quarters at a very non-commercial rate. You’d be bonkers not to take advantage of all that.’
Maddy glanced at Susie, who looked stricken.
‘Hey,’ said Rollo. ‘Just remembered, Maddy says some of her friends are house-hunting. I ought to meet them, exchange notes. You’ve got to introduce me when you get the chance, Seb.’
Seb mightn’t know about the Collinses’ dire financial situation but he did know that Mike was struggling to find work and that having Rollo banging on about his multimillion-pound house budget was hardly tactful.
‘Actually, talking of introductions...’ Seb grabbed Rollo’s arm and tugged him away from the group.
Rollo looked a little surprised but followed Seb like a lamb – not without grabbing one of the last sausage rolls as he left.
Maddy shoved the two remaining sausage rolls under the noses of Susie and Mike as if giving them something to eat would take away the awkwardness of the situation.
Susie shook her head. ‘Actually, Mads, I hope you don’t think I’m horribly rude,’ she said, ‘but I’ve got a terrible headache starting. I’m sorry but I’m going to be a real party-pooper and crash out.’
Maddy gave Susie a sympathetic smile and pretended she believed her friend. ‘Oh, no. Susie, can I get you a painkiller?’
Susie shook her head a second time. ‘I’ve got loads at home. Sweet of you to offer, though.’
‘But you can stay, Mike?’
‘I think I’d like to make sure Susie’s all right.’
Maddy looked from one to the other. No, they wanted out. She didn’t blame them; it couldn’t be much fun to be surrounded by people who could drink themselves silly without risking a trip to rehab, nor having to listen to someone without a financial care in the world. ‘OK, if that’s what you’d like.’ She put down her plate of food and escorted them to the door. ‘Thanks for popping round,’ she said. ‘I’ll catch up with you in the week, Susie. Hope you feel better soon.’
‘Night, Mads,’ the couple said as they headed down her path and across the road to their own quarter.
Maddy watched them go and gave them a last wave as they went in their own door. How she wished she could magic things better for them.
Chapter 10
Susie leaned against the inside of her own front door and rubbed her face with her hands. ‘I’m sorry, I couldn’t keep up the pretence any more.’
Mike put his arm round her. ‘I know, I know,’ he said as he rubbed her shoulder. ‘It’s all my fault.’
‘No, it isn’t. It’s no one’s fault; it’s luck, it’s circumstances, it’s... oh, I don’t know what’s to blame but I do know it isn’t you.’ She made her way into the sitting room and Mike followed.
As she flopped onto the sofa Mike looked at her with disbelief. ‘Don’t be so naive, Susie. We both know that, somewhere along the line, I fucked up my career. Fucked it up big time.’
Susie sighed. ‘OK, so you and I made a few errors but we don’t deserve this kind of shit. I keep thinking that things have got to turn a corner sooner or later.’
‘It’d better be sooner,’ said Mike with heavy emphasis. ‘I don’t think I can cope with pretending that things are all rosy for much longer. Thank God no one on the patch knows what the real situation is.’
Susie looked at her feet and could feel her face was flaring.
‘Susie?’
She looked up.
Mike’s eyes narrowed. ‘So who have you told?’ Susie said nothing. ‘You’ve told Maddy, haven’t you. How much?’
‘Only that there’s a bit of a hitch on the mortgage front.’ She looked up at Mike pleadingly. ‘She’d have guessed anyway as soon as she saw the sort of budget we’ve got for a house. And I needed her onside about the job in the mess – with Seb being the PMC I wanted her to put in a word for me.’
‘So Seb knows.’ Mike’s voice was icy. ‘Well thank you very much.’
‘No, no he doesn’t. I’m sure of that. Maddy promised not to tell him and I’m sure she hasn’t said a word. Mike, I’d trust Maddy with my life – if she promised not to then that’s that.’
But Mike didn’t look convinced. ‘You’d better be right. Let’s face it, I mightn’t have much pride left but I’d like to keep the last trace of what little remains.’
*
A few days later, Jenna parked her little Corsa outside Maddy’s house and got out. She grabbed her big box of hair products and went to the front door to ring the bell. She looked about her. Despite the fact that it had been almost two years since her adulterous affair that had taken place when her then-husband had been out in Afghanistan, she was still wary about spending time on the married patches. Her name had been mud back then and, even though she had helped Maddy when baby Rose had arrived prematurely, Jenna had a feeling it still was where some of the wives were concerned. Most of Maddy’s close friends had acc
epted her back into the fold and were her customers, but that left an awful lot of other wives who still loathed her. However, as it was much easier for Maddy if Jenna came to her house to do her hair, Jenna, being a good mate, was happy to oblige.
‘Come in, come in,’ said Maddy brightly. ‘Fancy a cuppa before we get started?’
Jenna nodded. ‘Coffee please. Are we in the kitchen as usual?’
‘Yes, go on through. I’m just going to put Rose down for her nap and stick Peppa Pig on the DVD for Nathan.’ Maddy followed Jenna into her kitchen, put the kettle on and then darted off to sort her children out.
‘Now,’ said Maddy, on her return. ‘I’ve got some news.’
‘Good, I hope.’
Maddy nodded, her eyes shining. ‘It’s brilliant. Well, I think it is.’ She spooned coffee granules into two mugs.
‘Spit it out then,’ said Jenna.
‘Remember Zoë’s salon?’
‘Yeah,’ said Jenna, warily. Zoë’s was the salon where Jenna had worked at the battalion’s previous barracks until she’d set up as a direct rival. Her relationship with Zoë had, unsurprisingly, ended badly.
‘Well, I’ve got the authorities to agree to the wives setting up a salon in the new community centre and it’ll be properly kitted out and everything. And, and this is the best bit, Camilla Rayner says you can run it. How about that?’
‘What?’ This wasn’t good news, this was awful.
‘Yes, really – your very own, official salon.’ Maddy’s enthusiasm for her project was palpable. She passed Jenna her coffee.
‘Hang on...’
‘Why?’
‘I think I should have a say in this, and my say is no, no way.’
‘Oh.’ Maddy looked surprised. ‘But... but I thought you’d be pleased.’
‘Setting up again? Here? Like that’s going to go down well with the wives. It’ll be as popular as a bucket of cold sick.’
‘No. Everyone loved having Zoë’s. It was so convenient. And you’re a fantastic hairdresser.’
‘Mads, I know you mean well, but no one’ll come and get their hair done with me. I’ll be blackballed, won’t I?’
‘Of course you won’t.’
‘I don’t want to find out that I’m right. I love doing your hair and your friends’ hair but you’re all officers’ wives, you’re different. I don’t go to the sergeants’ mess because I’m pretty sure no one’ll talk to me and I’m not prepared to find out if it’s the same with the soldiers’ wives. But a pound to a penny says it is.’
‘But supposing you’re wrong?’
‘And supposing I’m right?’ Jenna glared at Maddy, willing her to see it from her point of view.
‘But I went right out on a limb for you. It took me ages to convince Camilla that it was a good idea. And I’ve got the funding out of the garrison welfare fund. I’ve worked so hard for this – for you.’
Jenna felt like a heel. ‘I’m sorry, Mads, really I am, but I wished you’d asked me first.’
‘I wanted to surprise you.’
‘You did that all right.’
‘At least think about it.’
Jenna shook her head.
‘Why don’t I canvass opinion?’ said Maddy.
‘You’ll be wasting your time. And, to be honest, I’d rather you didn’t. It’d just draw attention to the fact I am here. Living off-base means that an awful lot of people have no idea.’
Maddy sighed. She looked fed up. ‘You’d better get on with my hair then, before word gets out you’re here and the lynch mob arrives.’
‘Don’t be like that, Maddy. I didn’t ask you to go to all that trouble on my account.’
‘No, I’m sorry. I’m being a cow. But think about it... please?’
Jenna sighed. ‘OK, I’ll think about it but I’m making no promises.’ She lifted a lock of Maddy’s auburn hair. ‘Right... the usual?’
*
Seb sat in the mess ante-room with the regimental admin officer, Sergeant McManners and the mess secretary ready to interview the prospective candidates for the post of mess manager. They’d all studied the applications and they’d all agreed there wasn’t a stand-out contender. Susie, like the others, had her good points and was definitely in with a shout, thought Seb, except... except he was really worried about the appropriateness of selecting her. But if he didn’t swing it with his fellow interviewers he’d have Maddy to answer to, to say nothing of the guilt he’d carry at making life even harder for the Collinses.
One by one the applicants trooped in to be quizzed about their previous experience, their knowledge of running events and of accounting and catering. And one by one they were given hypothetical problems regarding complaints or protocol or etiquette. To Seb’s relief, Susie seemed to have the most comprehensive knowledge of the more ceremonial side of mess functions. Not entirely unexpected given that she’d attended a fair few in her time as an officer’s wife but it was definitely a point in her favour.
‘So,’ said Seb, ‘moving on. How would you cope if the staff complained to you about abuse from a mess member?’
Susie considered this for a moment. ‘First, I would want to find out if there were any witnesses and I would gather any evidence I could, whether it supported or refuted the claim. Then I would come to you.’
Seb nodded. Textbook answer, in his opinion.
‘And how,’ said the admin officer, ‘given that you are friends with the officers, would you address them?’
‘I would call them sir or ma’am, just as Sergeant McManners does now, and I would expect them to call me Mrs Collins, just as we all call Sergeant McManners, Sergeant McManners. I wouldn’t dream of letting things slip in that department. Besides, in a few years the people who live in the mess will have changed, there’ll be a new crop of junior, single officers and my past will become irrelevant.’
‘Good point,’ said Seb. ‘Now then, catering. Your application says you have experience.’
Susie explained about the small catering business that she’d run. ‘I understand how to put together interesting and innovative menus, I can do economical as well as elaborate and I can cater to a budget.’
Out of the corner of his eye he saw the RAO nod in approval. Seb thought it mightn’t be as tricky as he’d first thought to get the other board members to agree about Susie’s suitability for the job.
After a few more questions, Susie was shown out of the room and left Seb and his colleagues to their deliberations.
‘So,’ said Seb, ‘thoughts?’
As he expected they agreed with him that Susie was possibly the strongest candidate but they were all adamant that the fact she was a major’s wife was a real sticking point.
‘But, as Mrs Collins herself pointed out, in a few years no one will know or care.’
Sergeant McManners wasn’t to be swayed but Seb was pretty sure he had the other two onside.
‘Let’s vote. Those in favour of employing Mrs Collins...’
He put his own hand up and the admin officer followed suit and after an agonising couple of seconds, so did the mess secretary.
‘Sorry, Sergeant McManners,’ said Seb.
‘It’s no skin off my nose,’ he said cheerfully. ‘I’m out of here, remember. By the time Mrs Collins is properly in post I’ll be running my own little pub in Wales.’
‘You’re all sorted, then, Sergeant?’
‘Oh yes, sir. The army did me a big favour when it decided to have done with me. I’m not complaining. I know there’s plenty who aren’t happy but I’m not one of them.’
Unlike the Collinses. Although, thought Seb, he hoped that now Susie had got the job she wanted, things might be looking up for them.
*
‘You could at least look pleased,’ said Susie.
Mike shook his head. ‘It’s not right.’
‘Mike, whether it’s right or not is irrelevant. It’s a job. We can get a mortgage now, we can buy that house.’
‘But I don’t
want that house.’
Susie banged the kitchen table with the flat of her hand. ‘We don’t have a choice.’
Mike glared at her. ‘So rub it in, why don’t you? Rub it in that this is all my fault.’ His voice got louder. ‘I’m the one to blame, I’m the one who is going to be on the dole and,’ he was shouting now, ‘I’m the one with the fucking awful credit rating.’
‘I didn’t say that,’ Susie shouted back at him.
‘You didn’t have to.’
The doorbell rang.
The pair stared at each other across the table, like two cats about to fight. ‘I’ll go and see who it is,’ said Susie.
It was Maddy with a bunch of flowers. ‘Is this a bad time?’
Had she heard the row? wondered Susie. Given how jerry-built these quarters were it was quite likely. Still, never complain, never explain, as Disraeli had once said. She smiled and shook her head.
‘Seb’s just got home from work and told me the news,’ continued Maddy. ‘I am so pleased. Here,’ she said as she thrust the flowers at her neighbour. ‘To say congratulations.’
‘Thanks. It’s quite a relief.’
‘Let’s hope it means your luck is getting better.’
‘It can’t get any worse.’
‘No... well. Anyway, I just wanted to give you the flowers.’
Maddy turned and went back to her own house as Susie shut the door.
‘At least Maddy is pleased for me,’ she said to Mike as she found a vase and put her flowers in water.
