Soldiers' Wives

by Fiona Field

  Jenna picked up a clump of Maddy’s hair. ‘It’s a lovely colour, Mrs Fanshaw.’

  ‘Thanks, and do call me Maddy.’

  Jenna grinned at her in the mirror. ‘Yeah, well,’ she leaned in and lowered her voice. ‘You have to be a bit careful round here. Some of the wives can be a bit snotty, if you know what I mean. Wearing their husband’s rank and all.’

  Maddy knew exactly what Jenna meant. ‘You don’t have to worry about anything like that with me, Jenna. I haven’t a clue how the army works – apart from having to move house constantly.’

  Jenna let Maddy’s hair fall again. ‘It’d be nice to get a house in the first place. Me and my Lee have been married for months now and we’ve still got nowhere to live. I’m still with my mum.’

  Maddy shook her head. ‘But that’s rotten.’

  ‘Tell me about it. Anyway, best we get on…’

  Thirty minutes later Maddy’s hair was washed, dried, sleek, shining and cut into a flattering bob. For the whole time it had taken to revamp Maddy’s hair, the pair had chatted away like old buddies – their shared army experiences creating an instant bond; from their husbands’ duties to their worries about overseas tours, to the possibility of compulsory redundancies, to the attitudes of their fellow wives and to how they saw the next few years panning out, they ran the whole gamut. Finally, Jenna misted Maddy’s hair with spray.

  ‘There, all done.’

  Maddy gazed at her new image. God, it was such an improvement. Whatever the cost, it was going to be worth it. And she’d made a new friend. All in all, it had been thirty minutes very well spent.

  Jenna held up a mirror behind her head so she could see how it looked from the back.

  ‘Perfect,’ said Maddy happily. ‘You’re a miracle worker. Caro Brown said you were a star.’

  Jenna smiled at her. ‘You mates with Caro?’

  ‘Neighbours. She’s looking after my baby, otherwise I’d have had no chance to escape for a bit of pampering.’

  Jenna glanced about her and then leaned in again. ‘I do home visits,’ she said quietly.

  Maddy nodded. ‘Caro said,’ she murmured back.

  ‘She’s got my mobile number. Just give me a ring and I’ll pop round next time you need a trim.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Maddy could tell from the way Jenna was keeping her voice low that her boss had no idea one of her stylists was pinching her customers but, glancing around, the place was pretty busy. And having Jenna come to the house would just make everything so much easier.

  She paid her bill, collected her coat and tipped Jenna. ‘I’ll be in touch,’ she said quietly, as she shrugged her thick mac on.

  ‘Great,’ said Jenna. ‘Maybe when you need your next hair appointment, the army will have pulled its finger out and I’ll have a quarter of my own too.’

  ‘I’ll cross my fingers and, as I said earlier, I’ll see what I can do to help,’ said Maddy as she left. She was going to have a word with Seb about Jenna’s quarter. She was sure he’d know what buttons to press – after all, they’d got a house with no trouble at all, so presumably he could do the same for one of his men.

  Jenna yawned as Lee found a parking space on the road near his mam’s house and reversed his Ford Focus into it.

  ‘Tired?’ he asked Jenna.

  ‘It’s a sod of a long way to come just for a weekend,’ she said.

  She glanced across at the clock on the dashboard display. Nearly midnight. And although Newcastle had a lot to offer in the way of nightlife – far more than the town nearest the garrison – she wasn’t best pleased to have been dragged up here, because she and Sonia weren’t, and never would be, soulmates. Beyond loving Lee, they had absolutely nothing in common, and staying for a long weekend with her mother-in-law was hardly Jenna’s idea of a fun time.

  Lee yanked on the handbrake and switched off the engine. ‘Come on, let’s go and say hello to Mam.’

  Yes let’s, thought Jenna, with no enthusiasm.

  Lee grabbed the holdall from the back while Jenna undid her seat belt and got out of the car. The pair walked along the row of identical Victorian terraced houses to the one that had been Lee’s childhood home. Well, his home after his dad had been killed in the first Gulf War and he and his mam had had to leave army quarters and find a place of their own. Not that he remembered that as he’d only been two at the time.

  Sonia Perkins had obviously been looking out for them because as they approached the house she flung the front door wide and launched herself at Lee, her corkscrew perm bouncing about almost as much as her ample bosom.

  Bloody hell, thought Jenna, you’d think he’d been gone for years not just a few months since his summer block leave. She also wondered how a woman who was as broad as she was tall – and she was only about five feet – could have produced a son who topped six feet and was built like a whippet.

  Finally Sonia stopped hugging her son and admiring how fit he looked and turned to Jenna. ‘Hello, Jenna,’ she said, not bothering to fake any warmth or affection; her mouth pursed like a cat’s bum and her beady eyes were cold and unsmiling.

  Two can play at that game. ‘Sonia,’ she replied, not even bothering with any form of greeting.

  They glared at each other momentarily before Sonia bustled back into the house, exhorting them to come in while she got the kettle on.

  ‘I’d rather have a proper drink,’ whispered Jenna to Lee.

  ‘We’ll make a night of it tomorrow,’ Lee murmured back as he shut the front door behind them.

  They followed Sonia into the front room which Jenna always thought looked like a mausoleum with pictures of Lee’s dead dad everywhere, and the glass cases containing his cap and medals. She stared at the mementoes: his dad’s old cap and Sam Browne; his regimental group photos with the 1 Herts’ crest on the thick cardboard mount that backed the pictures. Not for the first time she wondered if it was entirely healthy that Lee had joined his dad’s old unit. Although it explained why a Geordie was in a southern regiment. She shuddered. No, definitely not healthy, she thought. Lee following his dad and his mum not being able to let go of the memories and move on. Jenna sat in silence while Sonia grilled Lee about life in the battalion, his prospects, his chance of promotion, until Lee pointed out that it was very late and that he and Jenna had had a long day.

  ‘Silly me,’ said Sonia. ‘You should have said earlier. I’ve put you in the front room.’

  And just as well, thought Jenna, as the back bedroom is a single. But she was sure that Sonia had hated making up the double bed for them and would have much preferred to have had them sleeping in separate beds despite the fact they were legally wed.

  Leaving Sonia to switch off the lights, Lee and Jenna made up the stairs to their room.

  Jenna shut the door firmly and pulled Lee to her. ‘I don’t care what you say, Private Perkins, you and me are going to test the springs of this mattress to the limit. Do you realise we haven’t shared a double bed for months?’

  ‘So why are you wasting time bumping your gums? Get your kit off and get that gorgeous arse of yours into bed.’

  On the Tuesday, Lee mentally acknowledged that if he achieved nothing else in the next few weeks, he had to get himself and Jenna a quarter. Over the long weekend she’d managed to leave him in no doubt that living as they were was completely unacceptable and no way to start a marriage. Of course he’d realised it for himself but he hadn’t realised quite how desperate she was to escape from her mother’s and be independent.

  ‘It’s all right for you, Lee,’ she said as they’d walked into Newcastle for the promised night on the lash, ‘you have escaped. You’ve got a job, you’ve got your own bit of space and you live miles and miles away from your mum. Don’t you see, I want that too?’

  ‘I suppose.’

  ‘So make a fuss. The army can’t chuck you out for wanting what you’re entitled to.’

  Lee wasn’t so sure but he was between the proverbial rock and a hard place. If he di
dn’t make a fuss, he might lose his wife, but if he made himself unpopular with Captain Fanshaw by banging on about his need for married accommodation, he might scupper his promotion chances and his career. However, he had to make at least a token effort for Jenna’s sake, he thought, as he shouldered open the swing door to the company offices and made his way along the corridor to Captain Fanshaw’s office. The door was open and his boss was in. No time like the present. Making sure his beret was on properly, Lee knocked on the open door.

  Seb looked up. ‘Perkins, isn’t it? What can I do for you?’

  Lee saluted. ‘Sir, can I have a word?’

  ‘Course. Come in, shut the door and take a seat.’ Seb pushed the papers to the side of his desk and looked at Lee as he took his beret off and pulled up a chair.

  ‘The thing is, sir, Mrs Perkins is getting a bit agitated about us not having a quarter.’ The truth was, she was fucking livid, but Lee didn’t think the boss would appreciate him being so blunt.

  ‘I know,’ said Seb. ‘She spoke to my wife about it at the hairdresser’s. My wife’s been bending my ear about it ever since.’

  She had? Bugger. ‘I didn’t know, sir,’ said Lee. ‘I’m sorry, sir.’

  ‘It’s not your fault, Perkins.’ Seb grinned at Lee. ‘Women, eh?’ Lee nodded. ‘To be honest, Perkins, my hands are pretty tied. After my wife told me about what Mrs Perkins had said, I checked with the housing commandant and he tells me you’ve got almost no points, you don’t have any kids, you haven’t yet been on an operational tour and so you haven’t been separated from your wife for any significant length of time. All of which means you can’t expect miracles.’

  Lee nodded. ‘That’s what I told the wife.’

  ‘But she is still giving you a hard time.’

  Lee nodded again and shrugged. ‘Never mind, sir. I promised her I’d mention it to you, and I have. Thanks for your time, sir.’

  He got to his feet and put his beret back on his head before he saluted snappily, turned and left.

  Once outside he let out a long sigh. He wished Jenna had told him that she’d already bleated to the captain’s wife. Women!

  Seb got up and shut the door, then he rang Maddy.

  ‘I’ve just had your mate Jenna’s husband in here, bending my ear about quarters,’ he complained. ‘I told you getting matey with a soldier’s wife would cause trouble.’

  ‘Oh.’ Seb could tell from Maddy’s guilty tone that she knew she was in the wrong. ‘Sorry,’ she added contritely. ‘I only said I’d have a word with you. I didn’t promise her that you could do anything.’

  ‘Maddy, I can’t buck the system for him. And you’re not Lady Bountiful. You can’t magically solve their problems, so stop acting like you can and making promises you can’t keep. Don’t get involved and don’t go meeting trouble halfway. He and his wife’ll just have to wait their turn, like everyone else.’

  ‘We had no problem getting a quarter. It doesn’t seem fair,’ said Maddy, crossly.

  ‘I’m an officer. It makes a difference.’

  ‘Well, it shouldn’t. What happened to the classless society?’

  ‘Anyway, if Mrs Perkins comes whining to you again—’

  ‘She did not whine.’

  Seb sighed. ‘Whatever. If she mentions it to you again, say you can’t help and neither can I. Understand?’

  ‘Yes.’ She sounded sulky, but Seb wasn’t going to apologise. She’d interfered and she shouldn’t have.

  ‘See you at lunchtime.’

  ‘Bye.’ She disconnected immediately.

  Seb threw his mobile onto the desk. He had a feeling that Mrs Perkins was going to be trouble. Shame, because Lee was a great soldier, and a wife who caused ructions might stop him getting on as far as he deserved. He stood up and walked to the orderly room. In the corner, behind the chief clerk, was a bank of filing cabinets containing the soldiers’ documents for the whole company. He scanned the paper labels indicating which letters of the alphabet were stored where.

  ‘Can I help you, boss?’ said the clerk. He didn’t like people messing about in his orderly room, even if it was his superior officer.

  ‘No, Chiefy, I can manage thank you.’ Seb hauled open the correct drawer, rifled through the large buff files till he found the one he wanted and then sauntered back to his office.

  Twenty minutes later he’d read all there was to know about Perkins, including his application to transfer to the SAS, endorsed enthusiastically by his predecessor – interesting, as it showed just what Perkins’ potential might be – and a scribbled note about Jenna Perkins, who had been the direct cause of a number of drunken fights between soldiers in Tommy’s Bar because she’d been over-liberal with her favours. Or that’s what the inference was. It seemed to confirm what Seb thought: she was trouble.

  7

  By the time Chrissie finished for the day at the medical centre, she was bushed. It wasn’t just the workload – the day after a long weekend was always busy with soldiers who had got into fights or scrapes after three whole days of boozing, which was how infantry soldiers tended to spend their down time – no, her thoughts had been in turmoil all day as she’d come to a decision over the weekend and had been turning it around and around ever since, trying to work out how mad it would be to volunteer for the field hospital at Camp Bastion.

  In some ways it seemed the perfect way forward for her: potentially it could be brilliant for her career; it would expand her horizons – after all, she’d never travelled anywhere; and it would get her away from Lee. She had found herself thinking about him far too much, a situation which really wasn’t helped by him texting her pretty often, wanting her to run with him. And she wasn’t going to risk doing that again, not after the way she’d felt last time. So the easiest way of dealing with the situation was to just avoid him, and if she could get herself out to Afghan, avoiding him would be a piece of piss. Besides, if she didn’t go to Afghanistan soon, she might never get the chance, especially if the army really did pull out when they promised they would. Career-wise, too, she needed that experience.

  But, and it was a big but, would she be accepted, if she did volunteer? It wasn’t so long since she’d been told she was too young and inexperienced. Supposing the army was right and she couldn’t cope with witnessing real, life-changing and horrific injuries? How would she feel if she got turned down? And was she bonkers to even want to put herself through what was bound to be a traumatic experience? Weighing up all the pros and cons had preoccupied her all day. It was hardly surprising that even the MO had noticed that she hadn’t been concentrating. And wasn’t it amazing, she thought, how knackering the combination of being preoccupied and working was.

  Wearily, she clambered up the stairs to her room and threw herself on her bed. Immi was already in the room.

  ‘Wassup?’ said Immi.

  ‘Knackered.’

  ‘Too much of the sick, lame and lazy?’

  Chrissie yawned. ‘Something like that.’

  ‘Are we running tonight?’

  Chrissie shrugged. She knew she ought to; Immi’s fitness had come on in leaps and bounds, but somehow she just couldn’t face it this evening.

  ‘Tell you what, Immi, why don’t you go on your own?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You’ve got to be able to motivate yourself, Immi. I won’t always be around to make you go.’

  ‘You’re not planning on jacking the army in, are you?’ Immi sounded aghast.

  Chrissie sighed and shook her head. Quite the reverse. ‘No, but, you know… postings, things crop up.’ She shrugged. ‘You’ve got another two years to do before you can get out – if you want to – and one or other of us is bound to move on in that time.’

  ‘Suppose.’ Immi looked far from convinced. ‘But it’ll be so tough to keep going, without you to push me.’

  ‘Take your iPod and get on with it.’ Chrissie’s voice had a sharper note to it than she intended. ‘I’ll run with you tomorrow,’ she pr
omised, to take the sting out of her words.

  Immi came and sat on Chrissie’s bed. ‘What is it, babes? More than just a bad day at work?’

  Chrissie sighed and rolled over to look at her best friend. ‘Sort of.’

  ‘Want to tell me about it?’

  Did she? ‘Not really.’

  ‘Man problems?’

  ‘Not really. It’s complicated.’

  ‘Come on, tell Aunty Immi. A problem shared and all that bullshit.’ There was a short pause. ‘Shit, you’re not having an affair with the medical officer?’

  Chrissie shook her head and grinned. ‘No, I’m not having an affair with anyone. And before you get the thumbscrews out, why don’t you fuck off for that run and give me some peace and quiet.’ In fact she’d had plenty of peace and quiet since she’d seriously started to think about volunteering for Afghanistan and she hadn’t got anywhere in three days. Another hour was hardly likely to make all the difference.

  ‘I can take a hint.’ Immi started to change into her running kit. ‘Mind you, if it is a bloke giving you the runaround, my advice is dump him. There’s plenty more fish in the sea.’

  ‘And you can have your pick, Ims. I really just want to think about me and my career for the next few years and not worry about anyone else.’

  Immi stopped pulling on her tracksuit bottoms. ‘Sweetie, you can shag blokes without having to worry about them. Love ’em and dump ’em. Trust me, I know.’

  Chrissie giggled. ‘That’s what I love about you, Ims – you’re so shameless!’

  ‘I know. Good, isn’t it?’

  ‘I think I need to learn from you.’

  ‘Then you’ve come to the right place.’

  The next morning, Maddy, with Nate in his buggy and loaded up with his nappy bag and emergency supplies, wandered along Omdurman Avenue towards Susie’s quarter. Caro had cried off the babysitting circle meeting, citing an imminent visit from her mother-in-law and the need to do a massive shop for supplies – ‘Mainly gin, to get me through it.’

  Maddy still felt she hardly knew anyone on the patch and was a little apprehensive about rocking up on her own, but Seb had told her to man up and so here she was. Tentatively she rang the bell and was assaulted by a shattering wave of noise as the door opened.