Soldier's Daughters

by Fiona Field

  Sam felt a ping of guilt.

  ‘Oh, Maddy. I am so sorry.’

  Maddy laughed. ‘Why on earth?’

  ‘Because I said we ought to arrange a date to meet and I haven’t got back to you.’

  ‘Never mind. Truly it doesn’t matter. But that is sort of why I am ringing. I thought I’d have a bit of a lunch party and I wondered if you’d like to come along. That way we can get to know each other and you could meet some of the wives too.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘I promise we won’t talk about babies.’

  Sam laughed. ‘I expect I could cope even if you did.’

  ‘I wouldn’t blame you if the thought of all that domesticity made you want to run a mile. That’s how I felt when I first gave up work and became a proper army wife. I kept thinking the other wives didn’t have a life because they seemed to obsess about their homes and families, but when you keep moving and your career goes tits-up it’s hard to focus on the bigger picture.’

  Sam knew she was going to like Maddy. She sounded very grounded. ‘So what date are you looking at?’

  ‘Three weeks on Sunday. I hope it’s clear, I’d love you to come.’

  Sam glanced at her diary but she already knew the answer. ‘Oh, Maddy, you’ll never believe it but I have just got off the phone from arranging to spend that weekend with an old friend. How rotten is that? I’ve got endless free weekends, just not that one.’

  ‘Oh, that’s a real shame. Well… unless you’re spending the weekend here with your friend. In which case why not bring him – her – along too? The more the merrier.’

  ‘It’s her… and are you sure? I mean, it’s a bit cheeky.’

  ‘Look, when you’re cooking for loads, one more mouth isn’t an issue, honest. Check with your friend that she doesn’t think it is the worst idea in the world to be landed with lunch with a bunch of pads. If I don’t hear to the contrary I’ll expect to see you both.’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘Twelve o’clock. Oh, and is there anything either of you don’t eat?’

  ‘No, nothing. Even compo rations!’

  ‘I promise faithfully not to serve up that.’

  ‘See you then, and looking forward to meeting you.’

  ‘It’ll be fun. Bye.’

  Sam replaced the receiver and then texted Michelle with news of the arrangement.

  Cool, was the response from Michelle. So that was all right, then.

  November had gone out with a series of dreary days, mostly bringing lashing rain, gales and bitter cold, and December had rolled in as if it were trying to make amends. The first week had consisted of bright, gin-clear weather with cloudless blue skies and sharp overnight frosts. The battalion’s countdown to Christmas had begun and plans for the various unit and sub-unit parties were in differing stages of advancement. Not only was it now imperative for people to roll their sleeves up and start turning plans into practical arrangements, it had also reached the stage when those attending the events had to find partners to take.

  James Rosser, as OiC of the corporals’ club, had been issued an invitation by the committee for him ‘plus one’. Both he and the committee knew he wouldn’t really be welcome, but for form’s sake he needed to show his face and stay for at least a couple of hours. And if he didn’t want to spend most of his time sitting on his own with no one to talk to then he needed to find someone to fill the role of the ‘plus one’. With just over a week to go till the bash James decided that he couldn’t put off addressing the problem any longer.

  He left his cosy office in his company lines and, pulling his combat jacket zip up firmly against the chill air, he made his way across the parade square to the far side where the Q stores could be found, along with the vehicle garages and the LAD.

  The huge double doors of the workshop were open but despite that almost half of the craftsmen seemed to be working in shirtsleeves, although, given the hard graft that was going on, they were all probably burning enough energy to keep the cold at bay. He wandered past the inspection pits and ramps, past the lathes and the workbenches to the office in the corner. He could see Sam’s head bent over a mound of paperwork, her face lit by the glow of a computer screen and her brow furrowed in concentration. For a few seconds he wondered if he ought to interrupt her. As he hesitated, the phone on her desk rang. She looked up as she picked up the receiver and caught sight of him. As she began speaking to the caller, she raised her right hand and enthusiastically beckoned him in.

  James opened the door and a gust of warm air billowed out.

  Come in, mouthed Sam, and gestured to a chair in the corner before she began taking notes.

  James shut the door behind him and sank into the tatty old office chair by her desk. He let his mind drift while Sam dealt with whatever problem was being thrown at her. Finally the receiver was back on the cradle.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ she said cheerily. ‘What can I do for you? And while we discuss that, would you like a cuppa? I’m parched.’

  James noticed a shelf above a sink in the corner, with tea-making paraphernalia on it. ‘If you’re having one, I wouldn’t say no.’

  Sam got up, filled the kettle and plugged it in. ‘Tea or coffee?’

  ‘Tea, please.’

  ‘So what’s dragged you across here?’ she asked as she dropped tea bags into a couple of mugs.

  ‘I’m after a huge favour.’

  ‘Are you, now?’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘How huge?’

  James held his arms at full stretch. ‘That big.’

  ‘Blimey. I think that size of favour needs to be indented for. You can’t just requisition that sort of stuff.’

  ‘That’s what I was afraid of.’

  The kettle boiled and there was silence as Sam made the tea. She handed James his mug.

  James thanked her before saying, ‘So where do I get the forms asking for the battalion’s only female officer to accompany the OiC of the corporals’ club to their Christmas party?’

  Sam took a sip of her tea. ‘Not sure I’ve got the relevant form for that, here in the workshop.’

  ‘That’s a shame.’

  ‘But we could always live dangerously and see if we could get away with it, without the right paperwork.’

  ‘You think? I don’t want to end up being court-martialled for not going through proper channels.’

  ‘I won’t report you, if you don’t report me. How about risking it?’ Sam put her mug down on her desk and flipped open her diary. ‘It’s next weekend, right?’

  James nodded.

  ‘Spookily, it’s free.’

  ‘Are all your weekends like that?’

  Sam shrugged. ‘Seems like it. Although this weekend I’ve got a friend coming to stay and we’ve both been invited to Maddy Fanshaw’s for a buffet lunch party.’

  ‘You too? Ace. I’ve got an invite to that, and a bunch of the others have as well. It should be a good do. Seb and Maddy are fun. I’ll see you chez Fanshaw, then, on Sunday.’

  Sam laughed. ‘If you’re not planning on being out of the mess on Saturday I’ve no doubt we’ll see each other before then. Michelle and I aren’t doing much other than hanging out and catching up with each other.’

  ‘Michelle?’

  ‘We were at Sandhurst together, and before that at the same prep school. You’ll like her, she’s good news. Bonkers but good company.’

  ‘I look forward to meeting her, then.’

  In the corporals’ club Immi was standing at the top of a stepladder, leaning precariously to one side clasping a length of red and white gingham in one hand and a box of drawing pins in the other.

  ‘Immi!’

  She looked round cautiously. ‘Oh, it’s you.’ She smiled at Luke. ‘What can I do for you?’

  ‘You can get down off that ladder and move it closer to where you want to be. You can’t lean like that – you’ll fall off.’

  ‘I’m all right,’ said Immi.

  Luke sig
hed. ‘No, you’re not. And you won’t be any good to anyone if you fall off and break your neck.’

  Immi felt a little whoosh of pleasure. Maybe Luke cared about her.

  ‘And if that happened the party would have to be cancelled,’ he added. ‘And what a waste of work that’d be.’

  Oh, maybe he didn’t. Bollocks.

  ‘Now get down,’ he said sternly.

  ‘Catch me?’ asked Immi with a hopeful smile.

  Luke frowned as he looked at her but held his hand out to steady her as she came down the steps.

  Petulantly, Immi pushed the stepladder a couple of feet so it was directly under the place she was about to festoon with gingham and climbed back up.

  ‘This place is starting to look quite good,’ said Luke, staring at the decorations Immi had put up so far. The corporals’ club now had the distinct look of a German bier keller, with little vases of dried flowers on the tables, posters of snowy Alpine scenes on the walls, lots of red and white checked tablecloths covering the dull plastic tables; the various bits of skiing kit that Immi had managed to blag also helped to provide some atmosphere.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Immi, draping more gingham around a window and securing it with a couple of drawing pins. ‘Did you get anywhere with a snow blower?’

  ‘Nah. I found one, but the price they wanted was howling. I said that I wanted to rent it, not buy it.’ Luke shrugged. ‘Still, it was worth a shot.’

  ‘That’s a shame. It would have been a good finishing touch.’

  ‘Never mind,’ said Luke. ‘With what you’ve done here, everyone will be well impressed.’

  Immi nodded at him from the top of the ladder, a satisfied smile on her face. ‘Glad you like it. Dunno what I’m going to do with all this fabric when the party is over. I think I’ve bought the entire UK stock. If it was blue and white I could sell it to Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz for spare pinafores.’

  Luke gave her a worried look. ‘You’re bonkers, do you know that?’

  ‘Maybe.’ Immi climbed down the ladder again and jumped the last couple of steps. ‘God, I’ve been up and down today like a whore’s drawers.’

  ‘So I’ve heard,’ he said, dryly.

  ‘Oi, Luke, that’s well out of order.’

  ‘Sorry. Couldn’t resist. Anyway, you’re the one who said it.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Immi gave him a hard stare and put the fabric and the drawing pins down on the top step of the ladder. She changed the subject. ‘So, who are you bringing to the party?’

  ‘Haven’t really thought about it yet.’

  ‘You don’t have a girlfriend?’

  ‘What’s it to you?’

  ‘Just curious, Luke, just curious.’ Immi fiddled with the corner of a chipped nail. ‘Luke?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Have you been to Kenya?’

  ‘Yeah, couple of years ago. Why?’

  ‘I volunteered for rear party but the chief clerk told me I’m going on the exercise along with everyone else.’

  ‘Don’t you want to?’

  Immi shrugged. ‘Not a big fan of creepy-crawlies, if I’m honest.’

  Luke grinned naughtily. ‘Oh, that’s not good. They have millipedes out there the size of marker pens, and dung beetles like tennis balls, not to mention the snakes, the flies and the bats, and that’s before we get started on the things big enough to eat you alive.’

  Immi’s eyes were like dinner plates. ‘You’re kidding me,’ she whispered.

  ‘Nope,’ said Luke cheerfully. ‘And there’s the other things you’ll have to contend with, like heatstroke and insect bites. Oh, and every plant you come across has thorns on it the size of darning needles.’

  ‘That’s it,’ said Immi. ‘I’m going to throw a sickie. They can’t make me go if I’m ill.’

  ‘I think they probably can and almost certainly will.’

  ‘I’ll go AWOL,’ said Immi with a hint of desperation.

  ‘Honestly, Immi, you’ll be fine. You’re going to be back at HQ. Probably the worst you’ll encounter is the RSM in a mood. No one is going to send a REMF like you into the field.’

  ‘REMF?’

  ‘Rear echelon mother… well, you can guess the last word,’ said Luke.

  Immi rolled her eyes. ‘God bless the British Army – an insult and an acronym all in one hit.’

  ‘Anyway, I was thinking…’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Well, if you haven’t got a partner for this bash we could go together. Not a date,’ said Luke hastily, ‘but it would stop us both looking like sad loners.’

  ‘I am not a sad loner,’ said Immi haughtily. ‘I’m between boyfriends.’

  Luke shrugged. ‘Forget it, then.’

  ‘No!’ She realised she’d shouted. Immi lowered her voice. ‘No, I didn’t mean it like that. Luke I’d love to accompany you. Truly.’

  ‘Really?’

  She tried to look nonchalant. ‘Yeah, if you’d like.’

  And she felt as if all of her internal organs were pogoing all at once. She managed to resist punching the air and yelling ‘Yesss!’

  On the officers’ married patch Maddy was cooking up a storm of dishes for her buffet lunch, which had seemed quite distant when she’d arranged it and now was to take place later that day. The surfaces were covered with pots and pans, wooden spoons and a couple of open recipe books, while the sink was stacked with utensils waiting to be washed up. It was fairly chaotic but Maddy was humming happily as she looked forward to the party.

  She checked on the spread she’d laid out on the large dining-room table. The army thoughtfully assumed that all officers’ wives – even junior ones – liked nothing better than to entertain vast numbers of people and so every quarter was issued with a table that could seat at least eight, with the chairs to match. As Maddy and Seb, when he was home, tended to eat on trays on their laps in front of the TV, their dining room was mostly a completely redundant space, but as Maddy admired the buffet she was going to be serving up to the twenty or so people they’d invited, for once she was thankful that they had the wherewithal for such entertaining. Not, she reasoned logically, that she would have been so ambitious if they hadn’t.

  She tweaked a napkin straight and rearranged a couple of plates of quiche, checked the cling film over the salads… There, she thought with a sigh of satisfaction. Perfect. Well, as perfect as she was capable of making it. So, just the garlic bread to heat up, the French dressing to make and Nathan to feed. Yes, everything was going according to plan. Time to gild the lily and put on something Nathan hadn’t slobbered down. Bless him, it wasn’t his fault he was teething again, but it did make him dribble – a lot.

  ‘I’m popping upstairs,’ she told Seb. ‘I don’t suppose you could make a start on Nathan’s lunch, could you? I’m rather hoping he’ll go down for a nap in a while.’

  ‘And if he doesn’t?’ said Seb.

  ‘Then he can sit in his high chair or play in his playpen.’

  ‘If you say so.’

  ‘It’ll be fine. Besides, half the people coming have kids of their own and the other half will just have to lump it. You never know, some of them might like children.’

  Seb nodded. ‘Maybe, although, remembering back to my time living in the mess, most bachelor officers seemed to be hard-wired to dislike kids.’

  ‘Then they’re going to have to man up. Anyway, you never know, Sam and her pal might be quite maternal. Besides, it isn’t as if we’re going to ask any of them to actually do anything with Nate, like change a nappy. All they have to do is tolerate his presence. It’s not asking for much, now, is it?’ said Maddy briskly.

  By the time Maddy was back downstairs, changed, made up and scented, Seb had managed to feed Nathan, mop down the worst splodges of spat-out banana from the kitchen table and Nathan’s hair and he was back playing with his toys on the floor.

  Maddy glanced at her watch. ‘They should be here any minute. Best I get going with the French dressing.’

&nb
sp; As she had bustled off into the kitchen and was busy with a blender, a concoction of oil and other ingredients, the doorbell rang.

  ‘You’ll have to get that Seb,’ she yelled from the kitchen, over the high-pitched whine of the MagiMix.

  Seb opened the front door. And there was Michelle.

  14

  Sam was looking forward to meeting some of the married officers of the battalion socially and informally, and as it meant getting to know a few of the wives as an added bonus she was really looking forward to lunch at Maddy’s. Michelle and she had had fun over the weekend and Michelle had enjoyed meeting Sam’s mess-mates – a couple of whom had stayed over specifically to go to Maddy’s lunch party – while the rest of the time had been spent experiencing the delights of shopping in Salisbury and a trip to the cinema to see a chick-flick. Topping the weekend together with lunch out on the patch, before Michelle had to drive back to Pirbright, promised to make it a pleasant ending to a very jolly couple of days. So when Sam rang Maddy’s doorbell she was anticipating a fun few hours.

  The door opened and there was Seb, who was, it had to be said, extraordinarily good looking: tall, tanned and very fit in every possible sense of the word. Yet, even taking that into consideration, Sam didn’t think his looks merited an audible gasp from Michelle. And she knew Michelle was incredibly pretty, but the look of utterly shocked amazement on Seb’s face was also odd. Sam flicked her gaze from one to the other and saw the way the pair were staring at each other – both with horrified looks on their faces. Sam’s female intuition went into overdrive. There was a sub-text here and when she got Michelle to herself she was going to get the thumb screws on her.

  ‘Come in, come in,’ said Seb. He seemed to be blustering and flustered. ‘I’m Seb.’ He gave Michelle a look which Sam wasn’t able to interpret but which she was sure was significant. The plot thickened. ‘Maddy’s busy in the kitchen,’ continued Seb. ‘Let me take your coats.’

  As the two women began to undo their zips and buttons an almighty wail roared from the room behind Seb. He flung open a door to his right and said, ‘Bung your stuff in there,’ while he raced through another door and towards the crying.