by Fiona Field
‘Sit down, Jenna, you’re going to have a cup of strong coffee, just as soon as I can make it,’ Chrissie ordered, pushing Jenna onto a kitchen chair before putting on the kettle.
Jenna sulked and looked pointedly at her glass, but Chrissie ignored her, concentrating instead on flicking open the cupboards to familiarise herself with this new kitchen. She’d found mug and coffee by the time the kettle boiled and then made a cup of strong, black instant, which she passed to Jenna.
‘Here.’
‘Must I?’ said Jenna.
Chrissie gave her a hard stare. ‘If you don’t want your first Christmas to be a complete disaster, yes, you must.’ Then she softened. ‘Look, I can see your mother-in-law might be tricky—’
‘Tricky?!’ squawked Jenna.
‘—but this is Lee’s Christmas, as well. If you love him, shouldn’t you try to make it a lovely day for him? Upsetting his mum won’t achieve that, now, will it?’
Jenna sighed and nodded. ‘It was getting me through it, though.’
‘Get pissed over lunch by all means, I expect we all will, but just stay off the voddies for now, eh?’
Meekly Jenna sipped her coffee, while Chrissie whirled around the kitchen, peeling potatoes and carrots, preparing sprouts, and starting to make the bread sauce. Every now and again, she gave Jenna a simple task to do, like washing up a few utensils, or wrapping cocktail sausages in strips of bacon. By the time elevenses came round Jenna was virtually sober and Sonia was smiling again. Chrissie wasn’t sure the situation would last the whole day, but at least they might get through lunch before things reverted.
With the turkey and all its trimmings safely cooking and a reasonable atmosphere now reigning, Chrissie allowed Jenna to re-join the other three in the sitting room. Delicious smells wafted after them through the door.
‘So, where did you learn to cook?’ asked Sonia, bestowing a warm smile on Chrissie. Chrissie realised with relief that she and Immi had Sonia’s approval. That was one hurdle cleared.
She explained about her childhood.
‘That’s not fair. That’s no life for a bairn,’ said Sonia.
Chrissie shrugged. ‘You have to make the best of what you’ve got. And I knew no different. It was OK.’
‘Hmm,’ said Sonia. ‘It’s a shame others don’t look at life like that.’ She sent a look in Jenna’s direction.
Bugger, thought Chrissie, Jenna was still in the doghouse.
Lee obviously realised it too. He jumped up. ‘Well, I think it’s time we had a glass of bubbly to get the celebrations going.’
‘It’s a bit early yet,’ said Sonia.
‘It’s Christmas,’ insisted Lee.
‘Sounds like a great idea to me,’ said Chrissie, hoping that, as she’d found favour with Sonia, her opinion might prove to be significant.
‘Oh, well… if you insist,’ said Sonia.
Lee went into the kitchen and there was the sound of a champagne cork popping. A couple of minutes later he reappeared with a tray of brimming glasses.
‘I think we ought to toast Chrissie,’ said Lee with a smile. ‘To the chef.’
‘A bit premature for that,’ said Chrissie. ‘It might be pants.’
‘I can tell a born home-maker when I see one,’ said Sonia. ‘And I know that turkey is going to be fine. You’ll make a grand wife for someone, one day.’ And she shot another look at Jenna. Luckily, however, Jenna was too busy chugging back her fizz to notice or care.
By three o’clock in the afternoon, across the garrison, all the presents had been exchanged, crackers had been pulled, the turkeys had been cooked, carved and eaten and most of the occupants of the quarters across the patch were full to bursting, as were the dishwashers, for those lucky enough to have them. Outside in the streets kids, high on excitement, additives and sugar, belted about with their new toys, supervised by fathers who mostly seemed to be nursing a glass of port or a can of beer, while the mothers finished clearing up.
At the top end of Omdurman Avenue, the Collins household was deathly quiet. Mike and Susie were snoring, and drunkenly comatose on the sofa, while their two girls, back from boarding school, had taken themselves up to their bedrooms to watch inappropriate and illicit DVDs they had obtained, and enjoy uninterrupted access to their dad’s laptop, Facebooking friends, friends who didn’t go to their hugely expensive prep school, friends they knew their mother would disapprove of.
Further down the road, at the junior officers’ end, Maddy and Seb had collapsed in a heap on the sofa, while Nathan dozed in his bouncy chair. Maddy’s parents, who wouldn’t be denied their first grandchild’s first Christmas, had taken themselves up to bed for a snooze, full of turkey and a shade too much Veuve Clicquot and Pinot Grigio.
‘Do you think Nate had a good time?’ asked Maddy, as she lay, knackered, against the cushions, exhausted from the early start and the slog of cooking the meal, then cleaning the kitchen and dealing with the leftovers.
‘He had a lovely time, hon. We all did.’
Maddy snuggled closer to Seb and gave him a kiss of thanks. ‘Bung the TV on. I feel like watching something mindless.’
Seb picked up the remote and the television flicked into life. The Queen’s Speech had finished, a couple of predictable films were already halfway through, and Seb continued to slowly trawl through the channels waiting for something to pop up that appealed to both of them. The BBC twenty-four-hour news channel appeared.
‘Is the world still turning?’ asked Maddy dozily, as she yawned deeply and contemplated a little zizz instead.
But Seb was reading the banner drifting across the bottom of the screen. ‘Fuck,’ he said.
‘What’s the matter?’ Maddy jerked awake.
‘Another load of casualties for 2 Herts,’ said Seb.
Maddy read the banner herself and saw the words Their families have been informed. She felt her eyes filling with tears. ‘And to be told on Christmas Day.’
‘I don’t think Christmas would make it any worse,’ said Seb.
‘But if those poor buggers have kids…’ She could hardly bear to think about it. Numbly, still having to make an effort not to cry, she watched the red ticker-tape continue to scroll across the screen with the news of the 2 Herts casualties. The phrase about the families being informed was the signal to every other army relative in the land that, although the news was grim for someone, they weren’t about to get the knock at the door with awful news of their nearest and dearest. Maddy knew, only too well, how the army handled this; Seb had put her in the picture when he’d been out there. First, when a soldier was reported having sustained a life changing injury, or worse, all personal communications between soldiers and their families got shut down under something called Operation Minimise, so the bad news couldn’t leak out accidentally. Then, the soldier’s next of kin got a personal visit from an army officer, probably accompanied by the families officer or a padre, and then once the immediate family had been told and they’d had the chance to tell anyone else who ought to know, then the press got put in the picture too. She remembered vividly how her heart had raced when her phone had rung at unexpected times, scared witless that this was a call from Seb’s dad, passing on some ghastly news. It hadn’t happened but she hadn’t forgotten the anxiety she’d felt.
Suddenly, even though the news affected no one that Maddy knew personally, she couldn’t find it in her heart to feel very jolly any more.
Over at the Perkinses’ quarter, things had been extremely jolly but that had now degenerated into all-out chaos and hardly anyone was in a state to focus on world events. The mauled turkey still sat on the dining room table, while Immi had utterly forgotten she was duty clerk and, soused in fizz and Bacardi, had passed out on the floor. Jenna was in a similar state and was out for the count on the sofa, and Sonia, no better than either of them, was snoring heavily in one of the armchairs. Only Chrissie seemed relatively sober, but that was in comparison to those who patently weren’t. But at least she was still upright, awake
and both her eyes faced front.
She stared around the room – even Lee had his eyes shut. Now was a good time to make a move. She’d carried out her side of the bargain and helped Jenna cook a more than passable Christmas lunch. Now she wanted to escape. She’d just make sure everything was cleared away – the least she could do – and then she could bugger off. She began to take the turkey carcass out into the kitchen.
‘Sit,’ said Lee, opening his eyes, ‘you’ve done quite enough.’
‘If this bird doesn’t go into the fridge, it’ll all be wasted. You can’t mess around with poultry. And anyway, I’m just having a bit of a tidy up.’
‘There’s no need,’ said Lee.
‘It’s the least I can do. I’ve had a lovely Christmas, much better than if I’d had lunch in the cookhouse, and as soon as I’ve done this, I’m going to push off.’
She didn’t want to stay and chat. She didn’t want Lee asking any awkward questions about why she’d been blanking him. What could she say? That she was ridiculously attracted to him and was avoiding him where humanly possible, because it was so horribly wrong? Yeah, like that was a conversation she wanted to have. No, best to just light out and duck the issue. She carried the remains of the turkey through to the kitchen, where she rummaged in Jenna’s cupboards and drawers till she found the foil and began to wrap it around the leftovers. Lee followed behind her and leaned against a worktop.
‘It can wait,’ he said.
‘Maybe. But it’s time to go. I’ve had a wicked time, though, thanks to you and Jenna. You’ve been dead kind.’ But she spoke to the counter, not to Lee. She didn’t trust herself to look at him.
‘And our Christmas would have been crap without you. Jenna wouldn’t have had a clue what to do, if you hadn’t shown her.’
‘And so, what about your mother?’
‘She and Jenna would not have made a good team.’ Lee shrugged. ‘But they both had a grand time and Mam thought you were a superstar.’
Chrissie thought that Sonia should have been thinking that about Jenna, not her. She concentrated on getting the turkey swaddled in foil, embarrassment preventing her from making eye-contact with Lee.
She jumped when she felt his hand on her wrist. She snatched her arm out of reach, sending the turkey platter skidding away from her.
‘Stop and keep me company,’ said Lee.
‘I can’t. I have to get back.’
‘Immi’s the one on duty, not you.’
‘I know, but I’ve things to do.’
‘On Christmas Day?’
She picked up the bird. ‘Open the fridge, Lee.’ She would make sure the turkey was safely put away and then she’d leave. Thankfully, Lee did as he was told.
But when the big, heavy plate was safely on a shelf and she’d shut the door, she turned round and bumped straight into him. He was standing right behind her. Chrissie leapt back, but bounced off the fridge.
‘I’m done,’ she said, as calmly as she could before she pushed past him, grabbed her coat off the peg in the hall and legged it back to her barrack room. She didn’t want to feel this way about him; she didn’t want to feel this way about anyone. She wanted to get on with her life, on her own with no responsibilities other than the ones that came with her job. She told herself, yet again, that she didn’t want the likes of Lee, or anyone else, worrying about her, or caring about her, and she didn’t want to have to worry, or care, about them.
And thankfully, according to the MO, and if the Manning and Records Office didn’t change the postings’ plot, her replacement was due in to the battalion the first week of January, and shortly after that, she’d be off to Afghanistan and thousands of miles from Lee or any other complications.
15
Lee arrived back from taking his mother to the local railway station.
‘I’m back,’ he called as he got through the front door.
‘I’m stripping the bed,’ answered Jenna from upstairs. She sounded sulky, but then housework did that to her. Lee did his best to help when he could – after all, they both had full-time jobs, so it was only fair – but, however much he did, it never seemed quite enough. He wondered how she’d cope with everything on her own when he flew to Bastion in a couple of weeks.
‘You took your time,’ she added, coming downstairs with an armful of bedding. ‘And I’ve been thinking, before you bugger off to Bastion, you can buy me a washing machine. I won’t have time to muck about in the garrison launderette, when I’m on my own.’ She dumped the washing at the foot of the stairs.
‘Yeah,’ said Lee, ‘good shout. We’ll get one organised, as soon as the shops are open again. We might even get a bargain in the sales.’
‘So how was your mum?’
Lee had promised Jenna that he’d wait till he took his mam to the station before he broke the news about his posting. ‘She cried.’ Jenna rolled her eyes. ‘Jenna, it’s not as if she hasn’t had to face this before. Dad went off to the first Gulf War and didn’t come back.’
‘Then she shouldn’t expect lightning to strike in the same place twice.’
Did she mean to sound quite so heartless, or was she trying to be optimistic? It was difficult to tell sometimes. He gave her the benefit of the doubt. ‘I promised her that if you heard bad news, you’d ring her first.’
‘Don’t talk like that, Lee, and stop being such a drama queen. Loads of soldiers come back in one piece and you know it.’
Lee bit back his retort that loads didn’t – but then he realised that Jenna was trying to show him she was going to be strong while he was away and he wasn’t to worry about her. Actually, it was a comfort to him that he was pretty sure she’d cope. Lots of soldiers’ wives did, he knew that, but then there were the stories of the ones that didn’t. You didn’t want to be worrying about how your loved ones were doing, when you really ought to be keeping your mind on your own safety.
‘Anyway,’ he said, ‘she wasn’t happy, but she was well pleased I didn’t spoil Christmas by telling her earlier. And she said thank you for giving her a nice break and such a grand Christmas and a lovely feast.’ OK, that last bit was a lie, his mother had said to thank Chrissie about the turkey, but Lee wasn’t going to make matters worse between the two women in his life by giving Jenna yet more ammo to fire at his mam.
A week later, the washing machine was bought and installed, and Lee was getting ready to go for a week’s pre-ops training, before his deployment from RAF Brize Norton. He had his kit packed in his Bergen, his helmet was strapped on top, his day sack was ready and all he had left to do was to report to the Q stores to be issued with his body armour and dog tags, and then he was straight on the transport to the exercise area in south Wales, where his training course would take place.
Jenna was waiting for him as he came out of the stores, hefting all his kit. He was surprised at seeing her there.
‘Jenna, I thought you’d be busy at the salon. And anyway, we said our goodbyes this morning.’
‘I couldn’t let you go without a last kiss goodbye,’ she said, throwing her arms around Lee’s neck and kissing him long and hard.
The Land Rover driver, waiting to take Lee to his pre-ops training, leaned on the horn.
‘Come on, mate, I ain’t got all day,’ he yelled out of the vehicle’s window.
‘Gotta go, hon,’ said Lee, disentangling himself.
Jenna stepped back. ‘You just make sure you come back in one piece, Lee Perkins. Love you.’ There was a tear glistening in her eye.
‘Love you too, Jen,’ said Lee, as he threw his kit in the rear of the Rover and then climbed in the passenger seat.
As they drove out of the barracks he saw Chrissie standing near the medical centre chatting to someone. He longed to ask the driver to stop so he could say goodbye to her too, but then realised he was being ridiculous. She’d made it quite plain over Christmas that she didn’t want anything much to do with him – so why would she suddenly care now? Even if he was going to Afghan.
Jenna seemed to be looking pretty chipper, which surprised Maddy. Seb had warned her that Lee was about to deploy to the Middle East any day now.
‘How are you doing?’ Maddy asked solicitously.
‘Fine,’ Jenna said happily, as if she didn’t have a care in the world, helping Maddy into a gown and sitting her down in front of a mirror.
‘How’s your husband?’
‘Oh fine,’ she said airily. ‘Now, about your hair.’
Maddy was a bit stunned. But then, perhaps Jenna didn’t want to talk about it.
For a couple of minutes the two women discussed exactly what Maddy wanted, and then Jenna took her over to the basins for a shampoo before she got busy with the scissors.
‘I’ve got the plumber coming round in the morning,’ said Jenna, chattily.
‘Poor you,’ said Maddy, tucking in the towel a little more firmly to stop an errant drip trickling any further down her neck.
‘Why poor me?’
‘Well, it’s always a pain when something’s wrong with your heating, or hot water, isn’t it?’
‘Oh, nothing’s wrong. I’m having that backwash unit I told you about put in my bathroom, so I can finally get my own business up and running.’
‘You’re what?!’
‘Like a proper salon. I’m having it done properly. It’s not a lash-up and it’s costing a mint. Of course I couldn’t do it when Lee was around. He kept stressing about rules and regulations and such. I mean, like anyone’ll really care.’
They probably will, thought Maddy, when they find out. The housing commandant, for one, would certainly have an opinion, and Maddy didn’t think it’d be favourable. There was no way the authorities wouldn’t find out, especially if Jenna touted for business, which she’d have to do if she wanted any.
