Civvy Street

by Fiona Field

  ‘You think?’

  ‘Eventually.’

  The two stared at each other.

  ‘I hate this,’ said Susie, ‘the girls being miserable. It’s breaking my heart.’

  Mike nodded. And it was all his fault. If he hadn’t been made redundant none of this would have happened. ‘It’ll get better, it will.’ He had to hope so, because it was desperate as it stood.

  Susie raised an eyebrow. ‘And they’re not yet at the stroppy-teenager stage. Getting there but not fully fledged. Can you imagine what they’ll be like when they are?’

  They stopped talking as they heard the twins thumping down the stairs; not that the twins were ‘thumping’ per se but in this house the thin walls made any noise echo and reverberate. Mike sighed as he poured boiling water into a mug and chucked a tea bag in on top. He took his drink to the table and sat down.

  They slouched into the kitchen.

  ‘Darlings, do stand up straight,’ said Susie.

  Ella gave her a withering look. ‘Why? No one gives a shit at school about that crap.’

  ‘Yeah,’ added Katie with a sneer, ‘we’re not young ladies any more.’

  ‘Don’t talk to your mother like that,’ said Mike. Maybe he did raise his voice a little more than he meant to, was more brusque than he intended but he’d had a shit day too.

  ‘Or what?’ said Ella.

  The last straw. ‘Or I’ll take your mobiles off you and ground you,’ he roared. ‘I will not be spoken to like that. Understand?’

  Ella gave her father a look of loathing. ‘God, I hate you.’ She stormed out of the room.

  Katie followed but stopped at the door. ‘Even Mummy thinks you’re crap,’ she flung at him. ‘She says you’re just OIC sandbags – I mean, how rubbish is that?’ Then she flounced out of the door, slamming it hard behind her.

  The silence that followed was ghastly and it seemed to drag on for ages as Mike waited for an apology from Susie, or an explanation, anything. He stared at her back view, willing her to say that Katie was being spiteful, that she’d made it up, but nothing. Silence. Eventually he pushed his half-made mug of tea away from him and stood up. ‘I see.’

  Susie spun round. ‘Darling... I never meant... I mean...’ She slumped against the counter. ‘Oh God.’

  ‘Even you think I’m a waste of space, a loser,’ he said quietly.

  ‘No, no I don’t. I never have.’

  ‘Really?’ He gave her a long stare before he walked out of the kitchen. Five seconds later she heard the front door slam and the car engine rev. She thought about running after him but knew it was useless. By the time she got to the front door he’d have gone. Miserably she sat in the kitchen and wondered what she’d done to deserve this utter, total, downturn in her life.

  Several minutes later she turned the gas off on the stove, abandoned preparing a meal and took herself up to her room. The silence that fell over the house was angry and toxic.

  She lay on her bed, dry-eyed, going over and over the might-have-beens and the what-ifs and the if-onlys and examining everything that had happened since that late May morning when Mike had come home and dropped the bombshell about his redundancy. Should she have handled things better, could she have been more supportive, ought she not have taken the job in the mess... The light faded, the room darkened and the answers failed to materialise yet Susie felt sicker and sicker as time passed because over and above everything was the worry that the last row might have pushed her husband to the brink.

  By ten Susie was out of her mind with anxiety. Her thoughts began to race with possibilities of things that might have befallen him and each scenario seemed worse than the previous one. She wondered about phoning the local hospitals or the police but knew she was overreacting. No one would be interested in helping trace a grown man who had been missing for just a matter of hours. She told herself to get a grip – not that it helped. Neither did telling herself that no news was good news.

  Shit, if only she could turn back the clock and could erase that stupid, stupid glib comment about Mike being OIC sandbags. Still feeling sick with anxiety, shame and a host of other awful feelings she rolled over on her bed and sat up. And she hadn’t fed the girls. Part of her thought, angrily, that they didn’t deserve it and going supperless to bed for once in their lives wasn’t going to kill them but she was being unfair. They weren’t to blame for that remark – she was. They were just hitting out because their world had gone tits up and they were in a frightening and unfamiliar place.

  She crossed the bedroom and opened the door. Silence still prevailed but the lights were off. She didn’t remember doing that. She went downstairs to find the kitchen had been tidied up; the half-cooked supper had been put into bowls, cling-filmed and put away in the fridge, the saucepans washed and the surfaces mopped. On the table was a note.

  Sorry, Mum. We didn’t mean to be so horrible. xx E and K

  Susie sagged down onto a seat and began to cry.

  Chapter 24

  Seb, in his role as PMC, popped into the mess office to discuss the calendar of events with Susie... Mrs Collins. When would addressing her so formally come naturally? Maybe they ought to go for a slightly less formal approach, maybe he’d been too hasty in trying to erect a Chinese wall between her past association with the mess and her current one.

  He knocked on the door and opened it.

  ‘Susie?’ he exclaimed when he caught sight of her. She looked ghastly. Normally she was so well groomed; her make-up perfect, her hair washed and brushed, her clothes pressed but this morning... ‘What the hell’s the matter?’

  Susie shook her head.

  ‘Susie?’ Fuck protocol.

  She fumbled up her sleeve for a hanky and blew her nose.

  Seb walked around the desk and hunkered down beside her. ‘It’s not one of the twins, is it?’

  Again she shook her head. ‘Not them,’ she sniffed.

  ‘Mike?’

  She nodded. ‘Oh, Seb.’ She turned her stricken face towards him.

  ‘Come on,’ said Seb. He got to his feet and pulled on her arm until she stood next to him. ‘You’re coming with me.’

  Meekly she allowed him to lead her out of the office but when she discovered they were heading to the front door she drew back.

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘To see Maddy.’

  ‘Oh.’

  She didn’t protest as Seb gripped her arm and walked her through the barracks and along the road to the patch.

  He opened the door to his house and called to his wife. ‘Mads, visitor.’

  Maddy appeared on the landing and peered over the banister. ‘Susie?’ She disappeared and reappeared two seconds later with a sleepy Rose in her arms and ran down the stairs. ‘Susie, what on earth is the matter?’ she asked as she gave Susie a hug with her free arm.

  This display of affection was too much for Susie and fat, silent tears cascaded down her cheeks.

  Seb backed out of the house mouthing ‘good luck’ to his wife as he bolted. Hopeless, but typical man, thought Maddy.

  She pulled Susie into her kitchen, popped Rose into her high chair and put the kettle on.

  ‘Tea?’ she said as she handed Susie the roll of kitchen towel. Susie nodded, tore off a sheet and blew her nose then sat in miserable silence as Maddy made the tea.

  ‘So,’ said Maddy, gently, as she handed over the mug, ‘what is it?’

  Susie lifted her eyes and stared at Maddy. ‘Mike didn’t come home last night. Or rather, he did, and then... then there was a row and he stormed off. I haven’t seen him since.’

  Maddy lowered herself onto a chair opposite Susie and reached across the table to hold her hands. ‘Oh God, you must be so worried.’

  Susie nodded, bleakly. ‘I tried ringing him on his mobile but it goes straight to voicemail.’

  Maddy was at a loss. ‘Do you have a work number for him? Has he turned up at his desk today?’

  ‘I tried a while ago and was to
ld he wasn’t in yet. I daren’t try again... you know... in case...’

  ‘In case?’

  ‘Maddy, suppose he’s done something desperate.’

  Maddy froze then she quickly recovered herself. ‘No, no, he’s much too balanced for that. Anyway, I know things aren’t perfect—’

  She was interrupted by a derisory snort from Susie.

  ‘—but you’ve got a house, you’ve both got jobs and things could be so much worse. He wouldn’t do something that would really wreck the family. He loves you all too much for that.’ Maddy hoped to God she was right.

  Susie brightened fractionally. ‘You think?’

  Maddy nodded, trying to display a confidence she didn’t entirely feel. ‘Tell you what, would you like me to see if I can get hold of Mike at work? He might be there by now.’

  ‘Would you?’

  Maddy nodded again and picked up the phone. ‘What’s the number?’

  Susie told her and Maddy dialled carefully. After a few seconds it was answered. ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘Could you put me through to Mike Collins, please?... Yes, I’ll hold.’ She smiled at Susie encouragingly. ‘Oh, hi, Mike.’

  Beside her, Susie burst into tears.

  ‘Look, Mike, I’ve got Susie with me and she’s been a bit worried. I don’t want to interfere but I think you ought to have a quick word with her.’

  Maddy handed the phone to her friend, picked up Rose and legged it out of the kitchen, shutting the door behind her. Whatever Mike and Susie had to say to each other, they didn’t need her eavesdropping.

  A few minutes later Susie found her in the sitting room where she was kneeling on the floor stacking beakers for Rose to knock over.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ said Susie.

  Maddy scrambled to her feet and hugged her. ‘You have nothing to be sorry for at all. Nothing. Honestly. You and Mike have had so much to cope with recently and all that upheaval would make life tricky for anyone.’

  ‘I know, and it’s been hard on the girls too. I don’t suppose it helps that they’re getting to That Age.’

  ‘A change of school, a change of lifestyle, a change of friends and a change in hormones... I can see it would all be very difficult.’

  Susie shook her head. ‘You have no idea how difficult it can be at home. It’s awful.’

  Maddy looked at Rose. ‘I can’t imagine this one being a stroppy teen but I imagine it’ll happen.’ She bent down and scooped up her daughter. ‘More tea?’

  Susie shook her head. ‘I ought to get back.’

  ‘Come on, one won’t hurt. Besides, it was your boss who dragged you down here.’

  Susie smiled. ‘I suppose.’

  ‘I’d say it gives you carte blanche.’ The pair returned to the kitchen and Rose was popped back in her high chair and given some carrot sticks to chew on while Maddy slopped the dregs out of their mugs and put the kettle on again.

  ‘I suppose I ought to tell you the gory details,’ said Susie.

  ‘Not if you don’t want to.’ She was gagging to know.

  ‘Well, it all stemmed from something the girls overheard me say...’ And Susie recounted the awful cause of Mike’s precipitate departure, and then the twins’ heartbreaking attempt to make things better.

  ‘Oh, Susie,’ said Maddy, passing Susie her tea. ‘Kids, eh? So where did Mike go?’

  ‘Nowhere really. He spent the night in the car. Then he waited for me to go to work before he snuck back in to shower and change. He must have had such a miserable night.’

  ‘Probably no more miserable than yours. At least he knew he was safe and well so he wasn’t wracked by guilt and worry like you were.’

  ‘I suppose,’ said Susie, doubtfully. She sipped her drink. ‘But what I said was so hurtful in the first place.’

  ‘You didn’t mean it to be. Susie, you were just making a bit of a joke.’

  ‘A joke Mike didn’t find funny.’

  ‘No, but maybe under other circumstances...’

  ‘Or maybe not.’

  ‘Look, tell you what, how about the kids have a sleepover with me tonight?’ Maddy held up her hand. ‘And I truly don’t think Ofsted will have a go at us about one night, and you cook something lovely for Mike and have a proper heart-to-heart over a nice meal.’

  ‘He may not want to.’

  Maddy raised an eyebrow. ‘If you don’t try you won’t find out. The offer is there, let me know, and if the answer is yes, you can drop the twins over to me along with some overnight kit when it’s convenient. It’s Friday, they don’t have school tomorrow, I can let them stay up and watch some DVDs, we can make popcorn, have a few treats, have a girls’ night in. I’ll send Seb off to the mess, get him out the way for an hour or so. Do think they’d like that?’

  ‘It’s so kind of you but I think we might be better having a nice supper together. The girls might feel we’re trying to exclude them, like Mike and I don’t want them around. They made such an effort to make it up to me last night, writing that note of apology and clearing up and everything, I need to meet them halfway.’

  ‘If that’s what you think. It’s up to you but the offer stands and if you ever want to take it up, just give me a shout.’

  Susie looked as if she might cry again. ‘This is what I miss so much... the support of the patch wives.’

  ‘We’re still here, you’re still one of us, really. Just because you live a few miles away doesn’t mean you don’t belong right here too. And if you ever need a shoulder to cry on again... well, you know where I am.’

  ‘God, I owe you.’

  ‘No, it just makes us quits. I haven’t forgotten what you did for me when I had that mad stalker.’

  ‘Quits then.’

  Chapter 25

  Jenna was busy washing a client’s hair in the converted bathroom of the master suite. She’d got to the stage of massaging the conditioner deep into the scalp of her newest customer. Soothing music played in the background, her customer sat, head back, eyes shut, enjoying the pampering while Jenna worked her magic with her fingers. She heard the door to the salon open and shut, and the creak of a chair in the reception area as someone else came in and took a seat. She wasn’t expecting anyone – maybe it was someone wanting to make an appointment. It reminded her that she could really do with a receptionist but, frankly, given the turnover so far, there was no way she was going to be able to afford one for a bit. On the other hand the business was growing nicely and maybe, in a couple of months, it might be a real consideration. She mightn’t be rushed off her feet but she was pleasantly busy and her client base was certainly increasing.

  Still massaging she glanced at the clock on the wall – time up. Mrs Laycock had had more than her five minutes. She switched on the taps and began to rinse the conditioner out.

  ‘Water all right, Mrs Laycock?’

  ‘Lovely,’ came the murmured reply.

  Jenna rinsed and rubbed the hair until the water ran clear then took a comb and made sure the newly washed locks were tangle free. After she had wrapped Mrs Laycock’s head in one of the new towels she led her to a chair in front of the mirror. It was only then she turned to see who it was who had come in and sat down. A female soldier, and then she realised just which female soldier it was. Chrissie Summers – or Perkins as she was probably called now given that she was the new wife of her ex-husband. The husband she’d been unfaithful to while he’d been out in Afghanistan. The husband who’d been injured in a Taliban ambush while she’d been in bed with Dan Armstrong. The husband whose savings bank account she’d emptied to set up her own illicit hairdressing salon at her previous quarter.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ she whispered.

  ‘Jenna?’ Chrissie’s eyes were wide with shock, disbelief and something that verged on dislike.

  Jenna recovered herself a fraction. ‘What... what are you doing here? You’re up in Catterick, aren’t you – you and Lee?’

  ‘No, no. Lee got posted back here a couple of months back, but he’s with
A Company now, so there’s no reason you should know. I’m surprised to see you here though – given your track record.’

  Miaow. ‘Dan, my new partner, is with the REME here. Technically we aren’t part of 1 Herts.’

  ‘I’d say that’s probably for the best, wouldn’t you?’

  Double miaow. ‘It works for us,’ responded Jenna as calmly as she could.

  ‘No, well...’ Chrissie got up to go.

  ‘Hang on, did you want an appointment?’

  Chrissie looked at her. ‘I did, but I’ve kind of gone off the idea now. Knowing, as I do, what you did to Lee I’m not sure I want to contribute to your profit margin, given the fact that Lee and I don’t have much in the way of spare cash – well, nothing in the way of savings, at any rate.’ She gave Jenna a long stare before she left the salon, banging the door shut behind her.

  Jenna, with a fixed, forced smile on her face, turned to her customer and whipped the towel off her head. ‘Right, Mrs Laycock, what am I doing today?’

  Mrs Laycock stared at her in the mirror. ‘Wasn’t that Chrissie Summers?’

  ‘Might have been,’ said Jenna.

  ‘I remember who you are now,’ said Mrs Laycock. ‘I remember you from the old barracks. You know, I thought I recognised you when I walked in but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I couldn’t quite place you. Well, I never.’

  Here we go, thought Jenna. She knew Mrs Laycock’s sort and as soon as she got out of the salon she’d be telling everyone she knew about this little nugget of knowledge. It might have taken several weeks for Jenna’s past to emerge but it finally had. Just as Jenna had predicted. She wondered what the repercussions would be. A boycott?

  ‘Anyway,’ said Jenna, firmly. ‘Your style.’

  It took several attempts to get Mrs Laycock to concentrate on what she wanted done with her hair and, as Jenna started to cut it, there was no chit-chat about holidays or her kids or any of the usual topics. Instead, Mrs Laycock had her phone out and was busy texting all and sundry. Even though Jenna couldn’t read the texts from where she was standing, she had a pretty shrewd idea what the old bat was spelling out with her thumbs.