by Rosie Harris
‘Adam gets plenty of variety. He gets a better life than you,’ Nesta assured her. ‘He’s away for three or four months each year on exercises and he gets the occasional trip to Cyprus or Rhodesia.’
‘Up until now I’ve been perfectly happy, but I feel restless now you’re going. Most of the wives who’ve moved here recently seem to be a different generation. All they think about is parties and dances. After you’ve gone I think I’ll become a recluse and no one will ever come inside my house,’ Helen said with a tight little laugh.
‘Except the mosquitoes!’ Nesta smiled.
‘I don’t think even I could manage to keep them out,’ Helen agreed. ‘They’re always around. I’ve even been bitten by the damn things in winter. I think Pirbright must be a breeding ground for them.’
‘Which just goes to prove how unutterably boring it can be here … you even notice things like mosquitoes!’
‘So you’ll be glad to get away?’
‘No! I’m being bitchy because I know I’m going to miss this place something terrible,’ Nesta admitted. ‘Sunday lunch in the Mess, especially on Mothering Sunday when we are all given flowers, the Summer Ball, Down Sunday at Epsom each year, the theatre trips and Christmas parties! They have been part of my life for so long that without them there will be nothing to look forward to.’
‘But you always used to grumble about having to go because we always met the same people!’ Helen ex-claimed in amazement.
‘That was part of the fun. Remember when the kiddies were small, and we were hard up, how we used to swap clothes – even ball gowns!’
‘Yes, and then change the trimmings on them so that no one would recognise them … or so we hoped!’
‘We had some great times.’ Nesta sighed. ‘There was always plenty of good food and drink …’
‘Come to the next Troop Ball as our guests,’ Helen interrupted eagerly. ‘It would be something for all of us to look forward to. Promise?’
Helen found she wasn’t the only one to feel unsettled after Nesta and her family had left. Ruth was lost without Delia. They had grown up together and since Patsy Wilson had moved away they had become inseparable. For several weeks Ruth made no attempt to mix with any of the other girls, but just wandered around on her own or spent her evenings shut away in her bedroom playing records. She became so moody that Helen breathed a sigh of relief when she started joining in again and going to the youth club.
But not for long. Gradually, Helen noticed a change in Ruth’s entire attitude. Her school reports were poor and several times Helen caught her smoking. When she asked Adam to give Ruth a talking-to, he seemed to think she was taking it all too seriously.
‘Stop being so protective,’ he warned, looking up from his newspaper. ‘She’s only experimenting. If you try to stop her or punish her for doing these things she will either do them all the more or something far worse. Be patient; it’s just a phase she’s going through.’
‘She’s setting Mark a bad example.’
‘Rubbish. At his age all he’s interested in is football and cricket. Oh, and going to gym. I understand he’s one of the best they have.’
‘Who told you that?’ Helen asked in surprise. ‘Michael Blake never said Mark showed any special ability.’
‘Well, he wouldn’t would he? It’s just a job to him. It was his wife, Margery, who mentioned it. She stood in for him when he sprained his ankle a few weeks back. She used to teach athletics in a girls’ school …’
‘And she made a point of telling you that Mark was good?’
‘Well, you know what it’s like when you take on something for the first time; you’re full of enthusiasm.’
‘And where did you see her?’
‘She’d dropped into the Mess bar for Happy Hour.’
‘With Michael?’
‘No, she was just having a drink on her own. Michael was resting his foot. We had a long chat … she’s quite a remarkable woman.’
‘I’m sure.’ Abruptly Helen put down her knitting and went into the kitchen. She stood for a long time staring into space, willing herself to be calm.
I’m reading far more into this than I should, she kept telling herself over and over again. Why shouldn’t Adam have a conversation with Margery Blake if she was in the Mess? They were talking about Mark, nothing more. If Adam knew she was standing in for her husband then it was only natural that he should ask about Mark’s progress. He was very proud of him.
As she put the kettle on, she tried to remember if Adam had been on duty the last time Mark had gone to gym. He worked such erratic hours that she always assumed that if he wasn’t at home then he was working. She never thought of him being in the Mess drinking, not unless he was off duty and said that was where he was going.
There was probably a perfectly logical explanation, and all she had to do was walk back into the other room and ask him. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead she thought how Sheila had been misled. When it had all come out into the open, Jock hadn’t even been in camp half the time he claimed he was on duty, but up in London with other women.
Helen knew she was being ridiculous, torturing herself with such thoughts. She had no reason to doubt Adam for one minute. He had always been an exemplary husband. Their love for each other had, if anything, deepened over the years.
Unable to put Margery Blake out of her mind she went upstairs and took a long, critical look at herself in the wardrobe mirror. She might not have Margery’s corn-coloured hair, or her lithe, muscular body, but she was wearing pretty well for thirty-six. She was still slim and trim and there wasn’t a trace of grey in her dark hair. She studied her face for signs of any lines around her eyes or mouth and even managed to smile at her reflection because there were none.
Her ego boosted, she went downstairs. Instead of making coffee she hunted out half a bottle of sherry and carried it back into the sitting-room, together with two glasses.
‘Have I forgotten something … a birthday … an anniversary?’ Adam frowned as he took the glass from her.
‘No! Can’t we have a drink together without it being a special occasion?’
‘We can, but it’s out of character,’ Adam said drily. ‘There must be a reason. You must be trying to soften me up for some purpose or the other.’
‘No,’ Helen told him quietly, as she touched her glass against his, ‘just a drink to us … we’re the last of the old-timers. Only two more years and you’ll have done your twenty-one years. Time to start planning what comes next.’
‘You’ve become disenchanted with life here, haven’t you?’ Adam said quietly.
‘Yes, I think I have, in a way.’
‘Anything to do with Taffy and Nesta leaving?’
‘It began when Jock and Sheila split up.’
Adam’s hand reached out and took hers, squeezing it reassuringly. ‘Two years will pass quickly enough.’
‘I know. But what then? Where will we go … we’ve no home and I don’t suppose we’ll be able to manage on just your pension.’
‘Is that what’s worrying you?’ he asked, his voice full of concern.
‘Amongst other things,’ she said evasively.
‘Come over here,’ he patted the settee beside him.
His arm went around her, holding her close to his broad, solid chest, and her anxiety dispelled. As she looked up into his strong, square face, and saw the mixture of love and concern in his intense blue gaze, she felt almost ashamed of harbouring doubts about him.
She buried her fingers in his shock of dark hair, pulling his head down until their mouths met. The firmness of his lips, the sharp rasp of his chin against her cheek, the warmth of his breath, stirred her senses as much as they had always done. She could tell she still excited him, even before he grabbed her hand, guiding it down his body to prove what she was doing to him.
‘I knew you had some devilish scheme in mind when you poured me that glass of sherry,’ he murmured.
With a small sig
h of contentment she relaxed against him, revelling in the heat from his muscular body, which she could feel even through his shirt. With trembling fingers she began to undo the buttons, running her finger tips over his chest.
‘Two can play at that game,’ he breathed, as his hand slid up underneath her sweater and deftly unfastened her bra. In a quick, decisive moment he freed her breasts and bent his head towards them. She shuddered as the delicious sensation of his tongue teasing her nipples erect sent waves of urgency rippling through her.
Without releasing his hold he gently lowered himself on to the sheepskin rug in front of the fire, taking her with him. Memories of their first-ever encounter, in the barn at Fordswater when she was just eighteen, came rushing back into her mind. And, just as she had then, she abandoned herself to his passion, rejoicing in his power over her, wanting only to please him.
Chapter 15
‘Why don’t you dance with Ruth? I feel exhausted,’ Helen exclaimed as Adam, looking extremely handsome in his dark blue and red Mess Dress and frilled white shirt, held out a hand to lead her back onto the dance floor.
It was the first time they had ever had the chance to take Ruth and Mark to a ‘do’ in the Mess. Usually children were not allowed in the Mess but because one of the sergeants was holding his wedding reception there, the rule had been relaxed. And, since Adam would be leaving the Army the following March, Helen had been delighted that they had the opportunity to take Ruth and Mark with them.
‘They’ll probably remember this more than anything else about Army life,’ Helen reflected.
In her full-length pale-blue dress, her long, dark hair in a chignon, Ruth looked so very grown-up it was hard to believe that she wouldn’t be fourteen until after Christmas. Only her innocent grey eyes and her shy smile, confirmed her youthfulness.
Ruth had been an adorable baby and had grown into a quiet but lovable child. There had been one short period after Delia Evans had moved away when she had been unmanageable, but that had soon passed. She was clever as well as pretty. Her school reports were glowing now and Helen was already planning that she should go on to university when the time came. Ruth would make a wonderful teacher. She had infinite patience as well as the ability to communicate. Without her help Mark would be a dunce. When he wasn’t watching television he much preferred listening to his Beatles’ records rather than reading a book or doing his homework.
Helen felt a wave of love and pride as she watched them. She only hoped their luck held when Adam left the Army next year and that he would be able to find a job he liked to help supplement his Army pension.
It was at times like this Helen found herself wishing she had gone to university when she’d had the chance. If only she had some training or qualifications she could have been the one to go out to work. Then Adam could have taken his time in deciding what he wanted to do, instead of accepting the first job that came along.
She thought about the letter she’d had from Nesta Evans. Taffy had found it hard to adjust to civilian life. His brother, though a good motor mechanic, was not very organised and this had proved to be a sore point. Already the partnership had been dissolved and Taffy was working as a security guard. It meant that Nesta was on her own most nights, which was worse than when her husband had been in the Army.
Helen dreaded something like that happening to Adam. He was forty-three, but he was outstandingly fit and bursting with health. Looking at him, Helen felt she knew what was meant by ‘the prime of life’ and it seemed ridiculous that his Army career should be ending.
‘Where’s Mark?’ Adam asked as he and Ruth returned to the table, flushed from their exertions. ‘This young lady is tireless. She wants to go on dancing, but I’m exhausted. I thought Mark might like to partner her.’
‘You sit down with Mum; I’ll go and look for him,’ Ruth said, grinning.
‘Helen, are you all right?’ Adam asked anxiously the moment they were on their own. ‘You’re looking awfully pale.’
‘I feel a bit faint. Probably the heat in here … and all the noise,’ Helen replied.
‘And the chasing round getting all of us kitted out for this event. I must say Mark looks good in his dinner jacket. Quite grown-up.’
‘You might make a point of telling him so,’ Helen smiled. ‘He made a terrible fuss about getting “dressed up” as he put it. I asked him what he would do if he had to wear full Mess dress like you.’
‘And what did he say to that?’ Adam asked, laughing.
‘He said that would be different.’
‘Yes, he’s still keen to join the Army, isn’t he?’
‘He’s talking about becoming a boy-soldier when he’s sixteen.’ A shadow passed over Helen’s face as she spoke.
Quickly Adam’s hand covered hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. ‘Another couple of months and we’ll be out of barracks and he’ll forget all about the Army. Something else will take his interest, you’ll see.’
‘I hope so!’ Helen said fervently.
‘Just stop worrying about Mark and look after yourself more,’ Adam told her.
His blue eyes were dark with worry as they scrutinised her face. She flushed under their intense searching. She knew she was looking tired; she felt it. Some days it seemed as if she didn’t have enough energy to get through all the chores.
She was putting on weight, too, although she tried very hard to watch her diet. Sadly, she sighed, then smiled tremulously as she saw the concern on Adam’s face.
‘I’m getting middle-aged,’ she said with a forced laugh. ‘Maturing early … it’s the sheltered life I lead.’
‘At thirty-seven!’
‘I was joking,’ she said quickly, taken aback by the alarm in his voice.
‘I should hope so. You aren’t on top form, I’ll give you that. I wish you’d have a check-up.’
‘OK I will, I promise. I’ll make an appointment tomorrow.’
Adam leaned closer and his lips brushed her cheek. ‘Make sure you keep that promise,’ he said softly. ‘Now,’ he stood up and pulled her to her feet, ‘I’m going to have this dance if I have to carry you round the floor.’
Helen kept her word and went for a check-up, even though she thought there was probably very little the doctor could do for her, other than tell her to go on a diet and perhaps give her a tonic.
‘I wondered if it might be the change,’ she said rather diffidently, when he asked her what was wrong. ‘I believe some women do start early. I’m certainly putting on weight … it could be middle-aged spread.’
He looked at her over the top of his glasses, then checked her record sheet on the desk in front of him.
‘You’re still in your thirties?’
‘Late thirties … yes. Thirty-seven to be exact.’
After he examined her, he pursed his lips and shook his head. ‘Did you say your husband was leaving the Army?’ he asked.
‘Yes … in about three months.’
‘Hmmm.’ He stared at her, unblinking for a few seconds. ‘What are your plans then?’ he asked.
‘Nothing decided really. We hope to buy a house … or perhaps a business of some kind … we once talked about taking a pub and I’d be able to help …’
‘I shouldn’t plan on that,’ he told her quickly.
‘Something’s wrong, isn’t it?’ she said, with an inward tremor. ‘And just when we planned to start a new life,’ she added sadly.
‘You’ve already done that,’ he told her jocularly. ‘The reason you’re feeling “out of sorts” as you put it, and why you seem to be putting on weight, is because you are pregnant!’
‘Pregnant! I can’t be … you must be mistaken!’ she gasped.
‘I’d say at least four months, possibly a little more. And you haven’t suspected?’
‘It never entered my head. Ruth’s nearly fourteen and Mark will be twelve in a couple of months’ time. What will they say!’
‘They’ll probably be tickled pink.’
‘Ada
m will be …’
‘Over the moon,’ the doctor assured her. ‘Everything will work out fine. Now don’t worry.’
He was right, of course. Once over the initial shock, Helen quite liked the idea of having another baby. Ruth was ecstatic, and even Mark accepted the news without objection.
Adam’s main concern was how would they manage financially when he left the Army, since his pension wouldn’t be enough for them all to live on.
‘We’ll cope,’ Helen assured him. ‘It does mean you will have to get a job right away, of course. I won’t be able to go out to work for years … probably not until the baby is old enough to go to school.’
‘By that time you shouldn’t need to work. Ruth will be nineteen and Mark seventeen so they should both be earning by then.’
‘Not if they manage to get to university.’
‘Well, we’ll have to wait and see about that. It mightn’t be possible … not now … not with a new baby.’
‘The baby isn’t going to stop them!’ Helen exclaimed, white-faced, her grey eyes darkening with determination.
‘We’ll just have to wait and see,’ Adam repeated. ‘Neither of them may get enough “A” levels.’
‘No,’ Helen admitted reluctantly, ‘but if they do, then I want them to have the chance,’ she persisted.
‘Let’s not waste time worrying about it now,’ Adam said firmly. ‘Our immediate problem is a job for me. I’m away for the next two weeks at the shooting range, but once I get back from that …’
‘Must you go? Couldn’t someone else take your place?’
‘Afraid not. Weapon-training is the responsibility of the Senior Training Sergeant. It will be the last time I’m away …’
‘I still wish you weren’t going.’
‘I’ll only be in Norfolk! You’ll have Ruth and Mark to look after you. Now that they know about the baby they won’t let you lift a finger, you’ll see. While I’m away, why don’t the three of you work out where you’d like to live? That should keep you busy until I get home again.’
It was like planning a holiday, Helen thought as the three of them spread out the maps each evening and pored over them, arguing whether it should be town, country or somewhere near the coast. Mark was keen on being able to go swimming in the sea and longed for them to have a boat. Ruth was more concerned about whether there was a good shopping centre nearby. Mark pointed out that if Ruth was going to university he didn’t see what these things mattered since she would hardly ever be at home.
