Soldiers' Wives

by Fiona Field

  ‘About my crap house,’ said Jenna.

  She was stopped from going into detail by Lee asking a little sheepishly if it was OK to join them.

  ‘The more the merrier,’ said Jack. ‘And it’s your round, by the way.’

  Lee rolled his eyes. ‘Fuck off, Jack,’ he said, with no malice. However, he turned to Immi and Chrissie. ‘Another drink, girls, while I’m getting one for me and Jen?’

  ‘We’re good, thanks,’ said Chrissie, feeling horribly awkward, and taking another pace away.

  Immi gave Lee a wink. ‘Actually, we’re not good, we’re sensational,’ she joked.

  ‘Aren’t we all, hon,’ said Jenna. ‘Wasted on soldiers.’ She gave the boys in the group a cheeky smile.

  ‘In which case,’ said Lee, ‘you can get your own.’

  ‘Only joking,’ said Jenna, hastily. ‘I’ll have a rum and black.’

  Lee turned to the bar to get the drinks for himself and Jenna. Chrissie used the opportunity to escape completely and resume her conversation with Jack. She really didn’t want to spend the evening with Lee, when she’d spent the past week or so doing her utmost to avoid him.

  ‘So, Jack… Terry’s wedding?’

  Jack shrugged. ‘Actually, nothing much to tell. I just don’t know why people go to all the fuss and expense of a big full-on church do when you can nip down the register office and be out in time for when the pubs open – job done.’

  ‘And I thought the last of the romantics had already died,’ said Chrissie, shaking her head.

  The group laughed. Chrissie saw Lee cast an envious glance in their direction. Talking about his new house obviously wasn’t pressing his buttons. Poor guy, she thought.

  ‘Chris has got you bang to rights,’ said Jack’s mate, Doug.

  ‘Look, all I’m saying is that weddings cause a lot of hassle all round and they cost a mint and not everyone enjoys them. I was at one a month or so back and my stepdad’s nephew bawled and yelled so much that he had to be taken outside till he calmed down.’

  ‘Didn’t he want to get married?’ asked Chrissie, deadpan.

  Once again the bar erupted and once again Lee glanced longingly across at them.

  ‘You don’t sound happy, Jenna,’ said Immi, ignoring the hilarity behind her. ‘What is it that’s crap, exactly, about your house?’

  Jenny blew down her nose noisily. ‘Pah! Everything. We got a message from the housing commandant today that we’ve finally got a quarter. So I go and have a look at it, only from the outside, of course, but even just looking at the front I could tell the place is a dump.’

  ‘Really?’

  Jenna shook her head. ‘The garden is a mess, the outside paint’s all flaking and when I looked through the windows the curtains and carpets are vile. I mean, they’re orange. Orange! Honest, Immi, if you paid me I wouldn’t want to live there.’

  ‘It can’t be that bad, surely?’ said Immi.

  Jenna wrinkled her perfect brow. ‘You have no idea.’ She listed several further inadequacies to do with the house which included the size, the lack of garage and the fact that the neighbours had small children.

  ‘I dunno,’ said Immi. ‘I’ve got a few friends who live down on the patch and their houses aren’t so bad. And you’ve got to accept there’s going to be kids. Run a strimmer round the garden, put up some nice pictures, a couple of rugs and some cushions—’

  ‘I know how to decorate a house,’ said Jenna cutting in. ‘I’m not stupid. But this one needs knocking down, not tarting up.’

  ‘That’s me told,’ murmured Immi to herself.

  ‘So,’ said Jenna, ‘I want Lee to go to Captain Fanshaw and get it sorted out, but he won’t. And we’ve been told that if we refuse the quarter we go to the bottom of the waiting list again. I mean, where’s the justice in that?’ She glared at Immi, daring her to contradict.

  ‘I know some of the quarters aren’t exactly show houses,’ ventured Immi. ‘But they’re a start.’

  ‘Not the sort of start I want. I mean, I’ve seen Caro Brown’s house and Maddy Fanshaw’s and they’re OK. Well, not what you’d pick for yourself, but at least they’re nothing to be ashamed of. But ours… gah.’

  ‘But they’re officers’ houses,’ said Immi.

  ‘What difference should that make?’ she countered, angrily.

  ‘Hel-lo,’ said Immi, ‘but have you seen the officers’ mess? Silver candelabra, oil paintings on the wall, mahogany dining table – and look at this.’ Immi waved her hand around to indicate Tommy’s Bar. ‘Fruit machines, laminate floor, plastic chairs. Officers are toffs and we’re peasants.’

  ‘Well, I’m not standing for it. I’m as good as them.’

  ‘Please, Jenna,’ said Lee. ‘Please don’t cause trouble. It won’t be for ever and, as Immi said, it’s a start. At least we get to live together. And the longer we’re married, the more points we get, so the next time we move we’ll qualify for a nicer house.’

  ‘Oh yeah, and when do you think we’ll be moving? The regiment’s been here for years. I don’t want to live in that shit-hole for years more.’

  ‘Then live with your mother, because that’s the alternative. Is that what you’d rather?’

  ‘No. Lee, babe, I didn’t mean that.’

  ‘No, well, that’s what it sounded like to me.’

  There was a short embarrassed silence.

  ‘Come on,’ said Lee. ‘We came here to have some fun, not talk about rubbish army housing.’ He cocked an ear towards the other group in the bar as yet more laughter rang out. ‘Chrissie and Jack have got the right idea; they’re having a great time by the sound of things.’

  ‘I suppose,’ said Jenna, sulkily. She took a swig of her drink. ‘But I ain’t happy about that house, Lee. It’s not fair and that’s that. Just because you’re a private doesn’t mean you’re less of a person than Captain Fanshaw.’

  ‘Maybe we could have a bit of a party when we move in,’ said Lee. ‘Get our mates to come along and help us sort out the garden in exchange for a few bevvies. Hey, guys.’ Lee raised his voice to get the attention of Jack’s group. ‘If I provided beers and some nosh how would you feel about coming over to mine one Saturday, to help bash my garden into shape?’

  There was a general murmuring of assent, but with various conditions regarding the amount of beer and the quality of the scoff.

  ‘Chrissie?’ said Lee, noticing she’d remained silent.

  ‘I do a lot of duty weekends at the med centre,’ she said swiftly. ‘And when I’m not on duty, I might be involved in sports matches. I don’t get much free time.’ She turned away towards the main group again.

  Lee looked disappointed, a look that wasn’t lost on Immi. ‘Oh. That’s a shame… it’s just…’ he said, half to himself.

  ‘Just what, Lee?’ said Immi, naughtily. ‘You just want free medical cover, in case someone gets injured hacking through that jungle the army calls your garden.’

  Lee shook his head. ‘It’s nothing. It’s just I reckon, if Chrissie pitched up, then Jack and Doug and that lot would be sure to as well.’

  ‘She’s certainly popular,’ agreed Immi, failing to hide a faint note of envy as she stared at Chrissie.

  ‘She is that,’ said Lee, following her gaze.

  ‘Hmm,’ said Jenna, her eyes narrowing slightly as she looked at Chrissie and then at Lee.

  Chrissie glanced over her shoulder and saw Lee staring at her and her stomach did that lurch again, like it had when he’d stopped her falling down the railway embankment. And then she saw the expression on Jenna’s face. Fuck – had Jenna guessed how she felt? Surely that just wasn’t possible. Well, sod that, she was not going to fall for a married man, no way, and what’s more, she wasn’t having a married man, or his missus, get the wrong idea about her. In that instant she made her mind up: she’d go and see Major Rawlins, the medical officer, first thing in the morning and volunteer for Bastion.

  9

  Lee signed the documen
ts listing the existing damage and faults with the quarter and the inventory of the items he and Jenna had been loaned as a get-you-in pack, and Major Milward handed over the keys.

  ‘We’ll be sending barracks services around to replace the shelves in the kitchen. I can’t promise exactly when that’ll be, but we’ll give you a few days’ notice so you can make arrangements to be here for the contractors.’

  ‘I understand, sir, thank you.’

  ‘And as I said, I know the carpets are shabby, but this quarter isn’t scheduled to have new ones for another couple of years.’

  Lee wondered how he was going to explain that to Jenna. It didn’t help that as well as being orange, which Jenna had already clocked, they were generally skanky. But it was a substandard quarter, so their rent would reflect that, and they were lucky to get anything – or that’s what the housing commandant had said. He wasn’t sure that Jenna was going to agree, though. There were worrying patches of mould in the bathroom, the paint was marked and shabby throughout, the kitchen looked ancient and there was no double glazing. The place was going to be a mission to heat, but on the bright side, he and Jenna would both be out at work all day and at night they could snuggle together in bed. Maybe if he put it to Jenna like that she wouldn’t go off on one. Maybe.

  Major Milward expressed his hope that Lee would be happy in his new home and left. Jenna, waiting in her little Corsa on the road outside, almost barged him off the path in her haste to get in and see exactly what they’d been allocated.

  ‘Wait,’ said Lee, as he stopped her on the doorstep.

  ‘Is it so bad you don’t want me to see it?’ said Jenna, suspiciously.

  ‘No, hon.’ Lee swept her into his arms. ‘I just want to do this,’ and he carried her inside.

  ‘You daft bugger, Lee Perkins,’ said Jenna, nuzzling his neck as she pushed the front door shut behind them. She kissed him on the cheek as he put her down, before she said, ‘So what’s the worst then? What’s this house like?’

  Lee pursed his lips. ‘We-ell.’

  ‘That bad?’

  He quickly shook his head. ‘No, not so rank. And it is a place of our own. And Major Milward said we could give it a lick of paint if we wanted.’

  ‘So it’s a dump.’

  ‘No. And we can have Christmas here, together, in our first home,’ offered Lee.

  She gave him a hard stare, and pushed past him into the little sitting room. ‘You are kidding me,’ she said, looking around.

  ‘It’s not that bad. A nice rug—’

  ‘Don’t you “nice rug” me. This carpet is disgusting. What the hell happened there?’ Jenna pointed to a large dark stain.

  ‘The major said it was red wine.’

  ‘Really?’ It was obvious Jenna thought it was no such thing.

  ‘They’ve been professionally cleaned, so whatever it was, it’s just a stain now.’

  ‘Hmmm.’ But she was off into the tiny dining room, which got a sneer, and then through that, into the kitchen. She stood in front of the cooker, with its solid electric plates. ‘Bloody hell. I can’t cook on that!’

  Which was news to Lee because, as far as he knew, Jenna couldn’t cook on anything. Or at least that’s what her mum had said. Lee looked at the electric oven – was it so bad? It was sparkling clean, whatever age it was, but Jenna’s look of horror was unmistakable. ‘We’ll buy a microwave.’

  But Jenna was moving on. She’d gone back into the hall and was heading up the stairs.

  ‘So where’s the third bedroom?’ she asked Lee when he caught up with her.

  ‘What do we need that for?’ Lee was at an utter loss. A bedroom for them and one spare for anyone who might care to stay – what on earth would they do with a third?

  ‘So where are all my clothes going to live?’

  ‘Your clothes?’

  ‘Well, they’re not going to fit in there!’ Jenna waved a hand at the two wardrobes in the main bedroom.

  ‘Why not?’ He could get his kit into half of one of those and still have room to spare. Jenna could have all the rest of the space and the other wardrobe.

  Jenna just rolled her eyes and sighed. ‘Lee, have you any idea about women’s wardrobes?’

  Lee shrugged, completely bewildered.

  ‘Well, trust me, we need space.’

  ‘What, a whole bedroom’s worth?’

  ‘A walk-in wardrobe’s worth.’

  Lee wondered for a second what planet Jenna was living on. There was no way she’d had that in her mum’s council house. His face must have reflected his thoughts.

  ‘At the moment half my stuff is packed in boxes in my mum’s loft. I thought when we got our own place I’d be able to get properly organised. I’m so fed up of never having any space just for me. I’m sick of making do.’ She stopped and shook her head.

  Lee felt a rush of sorrow. ‘I’m sorry, babe,’ he said. ‘Maybe in the next place.’

  ‘Yeah, well…’ She opened the door to the bathroom and shut it again. ‘I suppose I should be thankful we’ve an indoor toilet.’ She turned away quickly from Lee, but not before he could see a tear glistening in her eye.

  Jenna sat on the army issue sofa in the sitting room and stared at the stain on the carpet. Zoë had given her the day off, to move in and get straight, so she didn’t have to rush. Lee, however, having completed the march-in, had had to go back to work, leaving Jenna to unpack the two suitcases she’d brought from home, make up their bed and put away the china and cutlery they’d been issued with by the army in their get-you-in pack. She sighed as she looked at the scruffy orange carpet, the drab, unlined curtains at the window that didn’t quite go with the carpet – but then what would? – and the dreary magnolia paint on the walls.

  Yup, it was a dump. She supposed she ought to be grateful to have a quarter; she wasn’t the only girl on the council estate desperate to get away from living at home with her mum. Heck, she had mates with a couple of kids who still couldn’t get a place of their own. But that didn’t make this place any less scuzzy. She made up her mind – she might have been given a dump, but it didn’t have to stay that way. She’d make something of this place, make it habitable at the very least.

  Revitalised, she went out to her little car and dragged in the two big suitcases which contained enough possessions to keep her going for a week or so. Next, she lugged into the house two bin bags full of bedding and towels, followed by her portable TV and DVD player, and finally, she brought in the box of hair care products that she had pinched over the months from Zoë’s and which she used on her private clients. By lunchtime, her clothes filled both the wardrobes in the main bedroom, the bed was made up, her hairdressing stuff was arranged neatly in the spare bedroom on the chest of drawers and the TV was on in the sitting room, filling the house with banal daytime chatter.

  Jenna looked around. It was still a dump, but at least now it was her dump. Her stomach rumbled and she glanced at her watch: lunchtime. She walked the hundred yards to the Spar to grab a sandwich, and while she was there, she also bought a notebook and pencil. Returning to the house she walked around it, eating her lunch and making notes as she went. By the time she’d finished, she had a plan. She decided not to tell Lee what she had in mind just yet; she’d need to get a few quotes from local workmen first.

  The doorbell rang. Jenna wondered who it might be. When she opened it, she saw an unknown young woman and a small child on the doorstep.

  ‘Hiya,’ said the stranger. ‘I’m Sharon and I live next door. And this,’ she said as she stared fondly at the slightly grubby toddler, ‘is Gary. I named him for Gary Barlow.’

  Like I care, thought Jenna. But she had the sense not to voice her opinion. ‘Hi,’ she replied. ‘Jenna.’ She stuck her hand out and her new neighbour shook it.

  ‘You got a kettle and everything?’ Sharon asked.

  Jenna nodded. ‘All sorted, thank you.’ She could tell Sharon was angling for a cuppa but Jenna still had stuff to do. And she looked
at the kid with the mucky hands. Her house might be a dump, but it was a clean dump and it was going to stay that way. The last thing she wanted was some snotty kid making a bad situation worse.

  ‘My husband’s in C Company,’ said Sharon.

  ‘Mine’s in B.’

  ‘Do you think they’ll know each other?’

  ‘I really don’t know.’ I really don’t care. But she smiled, as best she could. ‘I’m sure we’ll find out.’ Jenna glanced pointedly at her watch. She wanted to get the ball rolling with her plan, and Sharon was holding her up.

  ‘I know you from somewhere, don’t I?’ said Sharon, ignoring Jenna’s hint.

  ‘You might do. I work at Zoë’s.’

  ‘That’s it. It’s going to be well useful having you as a neighbour. You’ll be able to cut Gary’s hair for him.’

  Huh, Sharon could think again – unless she was planning to pay the going rate. ‘Yes, well, I mustn’t keep you.’ Jenna started to shut the door.

  ‘You must come round to mine – have a coffee. Bring your kids, maybe.’

  ‘No children.’

  ‘Yet,’ said Sharon archly.

  ‘Ever,’ said Jenna firmly. She pushed the door further shut. There was an ear-splitting scream. She looked down. Fuck, the brat’s fingers were in the hinge. She flung the door wide as Sharon started screaming too, just to add to the bedlam and chaos. What was she screaming for? She wasn’t hurt. Jenna checked out Gary’s fingers; they looked a bit odd, a bit wonky, but they were still all attached and there wasn’t any blood.

  ‘How could you?’ screeched Sharon, grabbing Gary away from Jenna and throwing her an evil look as she did so.

  ‘It wasn’t my fault.’

  ‘Why didn’t you check?’ Sharon was on her knees, cuddling a still shrieking Gary.

  ‘How did I know he’d shove his fingers in the way?’ retorted Jenna, angry at being blamed. She hadn’t asked them to visit. ‘It was an accident. I didn’t mean it.’ She did feel a twinge of guilt; the kid was obviously hurt, but how was it her fault?

  But Sharon was now ignoring Jenna and trying to soothe her son. Another mother, passing with a couple of kids in tow, stopped.