by Fiona Field
She began hanging up her purchases, trying to put her annoyance behind her, and was thinking about that, rather than anything else, when she shut the wardrobe door.
Seb was standing behind it.
‘Shit,’ she shrieked in fight. ‘Jeez, Seb, don’t creep up like that!’
‘I’ve got a bone to pick with you.’
‘So I’m not allowed to have a day off? You can go out and row whenever it takes your fancy and I never complain, but can I have just one day, doing what I want to do? Apparently not.’ If he wanted a fight he was going to get one. ‘And what’s Nate doing? You can’t just abandon him like that.’
‘He’s in his playpen, he’s safe, and it’s not about you going out for the day.’
‘Oh no?’ She didn’t believe that last bit.
‘No. It’s about something Will said.’
‘Will?’ Had she said something indiscreet about Seb to Caro which had been passed on to Will? Something Seb might take offence at? Sure she’d bitched about his endless rowing, but it was hardly likely to be that. So what the fuck was it?
‘Yes, he told me Caro’s planning on getting Jenna along to the Wives’ Club to do a hairdressing demo.’
Maddy rolled her eyes and shrugged in utter incomprehension. ‘What?’
‘You heard.’
‘So? Do you want an invite, is that it?’
‘Don’t be flippant.’
‘Seb, I’m not, but I honestly haven’t got a clue what the hell you’re on about.’
‘He said that Caro says you’re going to be there.’
Maddy shrugged again. ‘Well, yes, maybe. I’m a wife, I go to the Wives’ Club. Is that so wrong? It’s hardly like I’m standing around on street corners, touting for trade, is it?’ She glared at Seb, daring him to accuse her of being flippant again.
‘I don’t want you to go.’
She’d just known this talk was going to be trouble. What she hadn’t expected was for Seb to forbid her to attend – like he was some sort of Stasi official, bringing a dissident into line. Well, she wasn’t having that! She wasn’t in the army, he couldn’t order her about. ‘What? What on earth has it got to do with you?’
‘Everything.’
‘Come off it. All the wives are going to be there – or most of them will be.’
‘But they don’t know it’ll be Jenna doing the demo. You do.’
So that was it. It was about being forewarned. It was about her turning up to the demo, knowing in advance that Jenna was going to be there. Oh, for fuck’s sake! How petty could you get? ‘And I’m going to pretend that I don’t,’ she snapped.
‘And supposing Caro tells other people that you did? After all, she told Will.’
‘For God’s sake, Seb, she won’t, she’s a mate. Shit, if it means that much to you, let’s get her to sign the official fucking secrets act!’
Seb stared at her angrily. ‘You just don’t get it, do you? Jenna is trouble. Jenna has been told to cease trading—’
‘Yes, she has. But doing a demo at the Wives’ Club is hardly trading. I just don’t get what your problem is.’
‘The CO knows what she’s been up to, and her husband is in my platoon. If this woman causes real problems, then it might reflect on my next confidential report. If I want to make it to Staff College, it isn’t just a question of passing the exams – I need the recommendations too. That woman could really screw up my career and I don’t need you giving her a helping hand.’
‘So that’s it. You’re giving me the gypsy’s warning that I’m not to step out of line, not one inch.’
‘Not exactly.’
‘It’s what it looks like from here.’
‘It’s just…’
‘“It’s just” what?’
‘Caro and Will don’t care. He’s not ambitious like me. He joined the army for the sport and the adventurous training and all sorts of reasons, but I don’t think making it to the top was one of them.’
No – Caro had pretty much admitted that to Maddy herself. ‘So?’
‘Well I do care. And I thought you did too.’
Maddy took a deep breath. ‘I do, really I do. Seb, I know that whatever you do you like to try to win. Shit, I know how cut up you were about not making the Olympic squad – or rowing in the Blue Boat – and I’ll support you where I can to get any other goals you want. But I’ve got to be allowed to have my own life too, as much as I can. I’ve pretty much given up on the idea of having a proper career – the best I can hope for is a succession of jobs. I’ve got to get used to the idea of moving all the time and worst of all, if we do that, I’ve got to accept that Nate, and any brothers or sisters he might have, will have to go away to boarding school, but Seb, I am not going to have you tell me who I may or may not be friends with, or who I can see or what I can do with my free time. Understand?’
Seb glared at her. ‘Only too well.’
Maddy heard him clatter downstairs, and then the front door slammed.
25
‘Cheer up, Perky,’ said Johnny. ‘It might never happen.’
‘I think it already has.’ Lee was staring at the picture of Jenna which he kept in his wallet.
Johnny Flint hunkered down next to Lee, his back against the mud wall of the compound in the only slice of shade. The worst of the winter weather seemed to have cleared away while Lee was in the field hospital and now the sun was gaining in strength again. It was almost hot and without sun protection it was easy to get burnt – something to be avoided, because sunburn was classed as a self-inflicted injury.
‘So what’s the matter, buddy?’ asked Johnny. ‘You haven’t got no fucking reason to be in the dumps – you’ve just been back to Bastion. All those Gucci facilities to enjoy, plus women, you jammy sod.’
‘I’m married.’
Johnny pulled the photo from Lee’s fingers and looked at it. ‘Your missus?’
Lee nodded.
‘I can see why you wouldn’t be interested in anyone else.’ He whistled. ‘How did an ugly git like you pull a bit of top-totty like that?’
Lee took the picture back. ‘You know, I have no fucking idea.’
‘She a soldier too?’
‘Civvy. Local girl, works in the garrison hairdresser’s.’
‘So did you meet her there?’ Johnny ruffled Lee’s number two buzz cut. ‘You big ponce.’
‘Nah. Her car broke down in the barracks, I sorted it out, we went on a date and then the next thing I knew we were getting hitched.’
Johnny shook his head. ‘Prat.’
‘It seemed the right thing at the time. She’s got a good job, she’s a beautiful woman, like, her mam lives local…’
‘But?’ said Johnny.
Lee sighed.
‘But?’ prompted Johnny again.
‘But, maybe I should have got to know her a bit better, before I said “I do”.’ Lee picked up a tiny stone and threw it at the toe of his boot. He missed, and it plinked into the dust to one side.
Johnny stared at his comrade. ‘So what’s wrong? Want to talk about it?’
Lee sighed. Did he?
‘Hey, you know what else they say, don’t you?’ cajoled Johnny. ‘A friend in need…’
‘Is a pain in the arse?’ finished Lee.
Johnny grinned. ‘Too fucking right. However, I don’t mind listening if you want to get it off your chest.’
Lee considered the offer. He knew what his mate presumed. ‘She’s not playing away, if that’s what you think.’
‘So what’s your problem?’
‘It’s the bank account. I Skyped a call when I was at Bastion and I could see there was all this new stuff in the house. So I went online and had a look at my bank account. She’s rinsed the lot, Johnny. In fact, more than the lot; she’s two grand overdrawn. I reckon she’s got through eight grand in about six weeks. I mean, I know there’s a risk the Taliban might do my legs physically, but I didn’t expect Jenna to do them financially. Eight grand, Johnny!�
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Johnny whistled. ‘Fucking hell, Lee. Have you asked her what she’s spent it on? The crown jewels?’
‘I tried but she didn’t pick up her mobile. I reckon she was blanking me.’
‘That doesn’t sound good.’
‘And I daren’t ask for compassionate leave to go back and sort it.’
Johnny shook his head. ‘They wouldn’t give it to you for that, anyway. It’s got to be something really serious – life-threatening.’
‘The way I feel right now, it might be life-threatening, all right. Honestly, Johnny, I could kill her. How could she? I mean, I know she’s got to have money to live, but eight grand?’
‘Shit, Lee, I don’t know what to say.’
‘Yeah. What is there to say? Total bummer, isn’t it?’ Lee got up and shrugged. ‘But thanks for listening.’
‘It’s what pals do,’ said Johnny.
And pals don’t rob you blind as soon as your back is turned, thought Lee. Unlike your wife.
Jenna twisted her glass and watched the bubbles rise in her drink while she waited for Immi to arrive. Tommy’s Bar was quiet, even for a Monday evening.
‘Penny for them,’ said Immi, sitting down beside her and putting her own drink down on the table. She pulled a heavy bag from off her shoulder and dumped it on the bench seat beside her.
‘Hi, Immi,’ said Jenna. ‘And thanks, I could do with the money.’
‘How so?’
Jenna turned to face her friend. ‘Because the bastard army has put the skids under my business.’
Immi bit back the urge to say ‘I told you so’ or ‘What did you expect?’ and instead said, ‘Bastards indeed.’ She thought for a moment and said, ‘But they can’t stop you doing hairdressing in peoples’ own homes.’
‘No, but the wives have to ask me to do it in the first place.’
‘And they don’t?’
Jenna shook her head. ‘Not one. The officers’ patch has blackballed me and the soldiers’ wives don’t like me.’
Immi looked taken aback. ‘What? None of them?’
‘Not really. I fell out with my next-door neighbour on day one, and I went to one of the coffee mornings and all they could talk about was kids and getting marks out of carpets.’ She sighed. ‘Honest, Immi, none of them seem to have lives.’ She took a swig of her drink. ‘And is it a crime not to like kids? I had a basinful of babies when I was growing up, Mum was always making me look after my brothers and sisters, and I don’t need any more right now – and certainly not other people’s.’
‘You’ll still do my hair for me? I’ll pay, obviously,’ Immi added, quickly. ‘And not mates’ rates, the proper deal. You’ve got to be businesslike.’
Jenna snorted. ‘Businesslike. Ha, ain’t that the joke, when I’ve got no sodding business. But thanks, babe. It’s going to be a drop in the ocean, though, the debts I’ve got.’
‘Poor you.’ Immi decided to change the subject. ‘How’s Lee?’ she asked brightly.
‘OK, I suppose.’
‘You suppose?’
‘Haven’t spoken to him for a bit. You know how it is.’
Immi nodded. You couldn’t ring the guys out there, as no one was allowed mobiles, so you had to wait for them to ring you on the satphones, which was frustrating. But you could send blueys – airmail letters – as often as you wanted, and anything else for that matter. Which reminded her… Immi hauled the bag she’d put beside her up onto the table. ‘I nicked these from the medical centre, when I went for my annual check-up. Well, that’s not strictly true, they were about to chuck them out, so I nabbed them.’ She opened the bag to reveal a dozen glossy lads’ mags.
‘Not my sort of thing, babe,’ said Jenna, tapping a copy of GQ with a beautiful red nail.
Immi laughed. ‘Not for you. For Lee. I though you could send them out there to him.’
Jenna’s shoulders slumped and she turned to look at her friend. ‘Listen, hon, I can barely afford to keep myself fed at the mo, what with not having any business, having a monster overdraft and having to pay the instalments on the furniture. I can’t afford to spend a fortune on posting a few second-hand mags out to Afghan as well.’
‘But… but…’ Immi was at a loss for words.
‘No buts, Immi, these’ll cost a mint to send.’
‘But care packages to Afghan go for free. Surely you know that?’
Jenna looked stunned. ‘Free?’
Immi nodded, her forehead creased. ‘But haven’t you been sending him goodies?’
Jenna looked a bit shamefaced. ‘I’ve been busy, you know, setting up the hairdressing. Fat lot of good that was, though.’
Immi remained silent. Everyone sent little parcels of treats out to the soldiers, didn’t they? Even complete strangers sent boxes addressed to ‘a soldier’. How long did it take to wrap up a couple of mags or some Pot Noodles or a jar of peanut butter and pop them in the post? And in all the weeks Lee had been out there, Jenna hadn’t sent him anything? She just hoped Lee’s mum was making up the shortfall, and maybe other friends were too. Immi made up her mind to send him a few bits and bobs. Everyone loved receiving surprises, didn’t they, and if Jenna wasn’t doing the biz – well, it was up to everyone else to rally round, wasn’t it.
Jenna pushed the mags back towards Immi. ‘Kind thought, though.’
So she wasn’t going to send them; she just couldn’t be bothered. And Lee was her husband, for fuck’s sake!
Immi pushed her irritation back down. Lee and Jenna’s marriage was none of her business, and how Jenna behaved was entirely between herself and Lee. She sipped her drink moodily, while she wondered why she was letting Jenna’s selfishness get to her. Because Lee deserved better, that was why. She might have met Jenna long before she met Lee, but it didn’t mean she was blind to Jenna’s faults. Immi didn’t feel like talking, so she sat and simmered and wondered if Jenna would get the hint that she was bang out of order.
Jenna broke the uncomfortable silence. ‘Think I might have to go and get myself a job. Don’t know what I can do, though. I can’t work at Zoë’s no more, can I?’
Immi shook her head; no, she couldn’t. She’d dug herself a fucking great hole and jumped into it, and now she was stuck good and proper. She softened. ‘There’s loads of things you could do if you’re not picky. How about something like bar work? I did it before I joined up and it’s dead easy. It helps that you’re a stunner.’ Jenna shrugged. ‘No, seriously, it does.’ Immi jumped up and went over to the rack in the comer of the bar and picked out the local paper amid the jumble of TV listings magazines and tabloids. ‘Let’s see if there’s anything in here.’ She licked her finger and flicked through the pages. ‘Here we go.’ She turned the paper inside out and folded the page. ‘Situations vacant.’ She ran her finger down the column. ‘Care home assistant?’ she read out.
‘No way. Wiping other people’s bums? I don’t think so.’
She had a point. Immi looked at the next ad. ‘Receptionist, busy local garage?’
‘Maybe.’
‘Basic knowledge of cars essential.’
‘No. I can start one and drive one – that’s me lot.’
‘Teaching assistant?’
‘Kids,’ said Jenna with a dismissive snort.
‘Truck driver?’
Jenna just raised an eyebrow.
‘Perfect,’ said Immi with a whoop. ‘Look at this one. Waitress for local catering company.’
Jenna took the paper out of Immi’s hand. ‘It’s a possibility.’ She scanned the ad. ‘Irregular hours – well, that won’t matter being all by myself. No transport required. Better and better, means I won’t have to fork out for petrol.’ She ripped the page out of the paper. ‘I’ll get the drinks in and then I’m going to ring them.’
‘Now?’
‘It’s a catering company – I bet they’re working. Stands to reason, evenings will be their busiest time. Same again?’
Immi knocked back the last of her Bacard
i and handed her glass over. ‘Please.’
‘And I suppose, if I work for a civvy firm, no one will care how I get on with the army or my neighbours. What a result that’d be.’
26
Maddy got the meal out of the oven: lasagne, Seb’s favourite. It looked and smelt delicious. She glanced at the kitchen clock; six thirty. Across the kitchen Nathan was in his high chair, bib on, waiting for the pureed vegetables he was getting for his supper. So, she wondered, was she going to be eating on her own, or would Seb deign to make an appearance? Not that she had much of an appetite; worry about the rocky situation between her and Seb was making her feel quite sick. What if… what if he didn’t come back? What if he moved back into the mess permanently? After he’d gone, she’d discovered he’d taken his Rapid Reaction kit – the kit he kept packed, in case the regiment was deployed in an emergency. He had enough kit in that bag to last him for weeks. Maddy couldn’t bear to think about what that might mean. She’d sent a text, apologising, but there had been nothing but silence. Had she gone too far? Had Seb been forced to decide between his career prospects and her – and decided on his career? Maddy felt another wave of nausea lurch through her.
A key clicked in the lock of the front door. Abandoning her cooking and Nathan, she raced to the door and flung herself into her husband’s arms.
‘Oh, Seb, oh, Seb,’ she cried. ‘I was so afraid you mightn’t come home.’ She realised that she had two tears trickling down her face. She dashed them away. Relief and love flooded through her, in a huge surge of emotions.
Seb gave her a big hug and kissed the top of her head. ‘Shhh. I’m sorry, maybe I overreacted.’
‘And I’m sorry, I was stubborn.’
‘I missed you,’ said Seb, moving back a step so he could look at her.
‘The bed was too big without you.’
‘And Nate, did he miss me?’
‘Sorry.’ She gave him a watery smile. ‘I’ll have to disappoint you there.’
‘Where is he?’
‘In the kitchen, waiting for his supper.’
On cue, there was a squawk of protest. The pair moved into the kitchen, where Seb hunkered down by the high chair. ‘Hey, buddy. Did you miss me?’ In response, Nathan bashed the tray of his chair with a plastic spoon. ‘I’ll take that as a yes.’ Seb smiled at Maddy. ‘That was a horrible twenty-four hours.’
