Soldiers' Wives Part 7

'She did not whine.'

Seb sighed. 'Whatever. If she mentions it to you again, say you can't help and neither can I. Understand?'

'Yes.' She sounded sulky, but Seb wasn't going to apologise. She'd interfered and she shouldn't have.

'See you at lunchtime.'

'Bye.' She disconnected immediately.

Seb threw his mobile onto the desk. He had a feeling that Mrs Perkins was going to be trouble. Shame, because Lee was a great soldier, and a wife who caused ructions might stop him getting on as far as he deserved. He stood up and walked to the orderly room. In the corner, behind the chief clerk, was a bank of filing cabinets containing the soldiers' doc.u.ments for the whole company. He scanned the paper labels indicating which letters of the alphabet were stored where.

'Can I help you, boss?' said the clerk. He didn't like people messing about in his orderly room, even if it was his superior officer.

'No, Chiefy, I can manage thank you.' Seb hauled open the correct drawer, rifled through the large buff files till he found the one he wanted and then sauntered back to his office.

Twenty minutes later he'd read all there was to know about Perkins, including his application to transfer to the SAS, endorsed enthusiastically by his predecessor interesting, as it showed just what Perkins' potential might be and a scribbled note about Jenna Perkins, who had been the direct cause of a number of drunken fights between soldiers in Tommy's Bar because she'd been over-liberal with her favours. Or that's what the inference was. It seemed to confirm what Seb thought: she was trouble.

7.

By the time Chrissie finished for the day at the medical centre, she was bushed. It wasn't just the workload the day after a long weekend was always busy with soldiers who had got into fights or sc.r.a.pes after three whole days of boozing, which was how infantry soldiers tended to spend their down time no, her thoughts had been in turmoil all day as she'd come to a decision over the weekend and had been turning it around and around ever since, trying to work out how mad it would be to volunteer for the field hospital at Camp Bastion.

In some ways it seemed the perfect way forward for her: potentially it could be brilliant for her career; it would expand her horizons after all, she'd never travelled anywhere; and it would get her away from Lee. She had found herself thinking about him far too much, a situation which really wasn't helped by him texting her pretty often, wanting her to run with him. And she wasn't going to risk doing that again, not after the way she'd felt last time. So the easiest way of dealing with the situation was to just avoid him, and if she could get herself out to Afghan, avoiding him would be a piece of p.i.s.s. Besides, if she didn't go to Afghanistan soon, she might never get the chance, especially if the army really did pull out when they promised they would. Career-wise, too, she needed that experience.

But, and it was a big but, would she be accepted, if she did volunteer? It wasn't so long since she'd been told she was too young and inexperienced. Supposing the army was right and she couldn't cope with witnessing real, life-changing and horrific injuries? How would she feel if she got turned down? And was she bonkers to even want to put herself through what was bound to be a traumatic experience? Weighing up all the pros and cons had preoccupied her all day. It was hardly surprising that even the MO had noticed that she hadn't been concentrating. And wasn't it amazing, she thought, how knackering the combination of being preoccupied and working was.

Wearily, she clambered up the stairs to her room and threw herself on her bed. Immi was already in the room.

'Wa.s.sup?' said Immi.

'Knackered.'

'Too much of the sick, lame and lazy?'

Chrissie yawned. 'Something like that.'

'Are we running tonight?'

Chrissie shrugged. She knew she ought to; Immi's fitness had come on in leaps and bounds, but somehow she just couldn't face it this evening.

'Tell you what, Immi, why don't you go on your own?'

'What?'

'You've got to be able to motivate yourself, Immi. I won't always be around to make you go.'

'You're not planning on jacking the army in, are you?' Immi sounded aghast.

Chrissie sighed and shook her head. Quite the reverse. 'No, but, you know... postings, things crop up.' She shrugged. 'You've got another two years to do before you can get out if you want to and one or other of us is bound to move on in that time.'

'Suppose.' Immi looked far from convinced. 'But it'll be so tough to keep going, without you to push me.'

'Take your iPod and get on with it.' Chrissie's voice had a sharper note to it than she intended. 'I'll run with you tomorrow,' she promised, to take the sting out of her words.

Immi came and sat on Chrissie's bed. 'What is it, babes? More than just a bad day at work?'

Chrissie sighed and rolled over to look at her best friend. 'Sort of.'

'Want to tell me about it?'

Did she? 'Not really.'

'Man problems?'

'Not really. It's complicated.'

'Come on, tell Aunty Immi. A problem shared and all that bulls.h.i.t.' There was a short pause. 's.h.i.t, you're not having an affair with the medical officer?'

Chrissie shook her head and grinned. 'No, I'm not having an affair with anyone. And before you get the thumbscrews out, why don't you f.u.c.k off for that run and give me some peace and quiet.' In fact she'd had plenty of peace and quiet since she'd seriously started to think about volunteering for Afghanistan and she hadn't got anywhere in three days. Another hour was hardly likely to make all the difference.

'I can take a hint.' Immi started to change into her running kit. 'Mind you, if it is a bloke giving you the runaround, my advice is dump him. There's plenty more fish in the sea.'

'And you can have your pick, Ims. I really just want to think about me and my career for the next few years and not worry about anyone else.'

Immi stopped pulling on her tracksuit bottoms. 'Sweetie, you can s.h.a.g blokes without having to worry about them. Love 'em and dump 'em. Trust me, I know.'

Chrissie giggled. 'That's what I love about you, Ims you're so shameless!'

'I know. Good, isn't it?'

'I think I need to learn from you.'

'Then you've come to the right place.'

The next morning, Maddy, with Nate in his buggy and loaded up with his nappy bag and emergency supplies, wandered along Omdurman Avenue towards Susie's quarter. Caro had cried off the babysitting circle meeting, citing an imminent visit from her mother-in-law and the need to do a ma.s.sive shop for supplies 'Mainly gin, to get me through it.'

Maddy still felt she hardly knew anyone on the patch and was a little apprehensive about rocking up on her own, but Seb had told her to man up and so here she was. Tentatively she rang the bell and was a.s.saulted by a shattering wave of noise as the door opened.

'Sorry, it's bedlam,' said Susie, looking fl.u.s.tered as she ushered Maddy in.

Susie might have looked fl.u.s.tered but everything else about her was immaculate, from her blond hair tucked into a natty French pleat, to her beautifully manicured nails, to her crease-free linen shirt over her pressed jeans. Mrs Middleton couldn't have looked neater or tidier. Maddy was instantly conscious that, in contrast, her appearance left a lot to be desired. Maybe she should have changed into a clean top after all, but she hadn't bothered because she knew Nate would only dribble onto it the instant she picked him up again.

It certainly was bedlam, though, as Susie's sitting room was far too small for the ten or so toddlers. Surrounding them, sitting on a mix of chairs, were mothers off the patch, some of whom Maddy vaguely recognised, most of whom she didn't.

'Coffee?' offered Susie.

'Think I'll give it a miss,' said Maddy, wondering about the wisdom of juggling a baby and a hot drink.

'It'll calm down in half an hour. Lots of the mums have to fetch kids from the playgroup at about eleven thirty and those that don't, go home to get lunch ready.'

Susie clapped her hands and got some sort of order in the room, so she could introduce Maddy. The other wives greeted her with smiles and waves and some words of welcome, as Susie reeled off their names.

'Don't worry,' said one of the wives, who Maddy thought might be called Jenny or was it Penny? 'You've got ages and ages to get to know us. That's the thing with regiments: our husbands may get posted out now and again to staff jobs but they always end up back here.'

Back here? Constantly? Oh joy, thought Maddy, but she smiled brightly. She knew she was being unfair; there was nothing wrong with her neighbours s.h.i.t, she hardly knew them but did she really want to spend the rest of her life surrounded by the same people, people who would judge her on her ability to throw a dinner party or chair a committee? She suddenly had a vision of lab rats scurrying round, their behaviour monitored by Mrs Notley and Susie, and suppressed a slightly hysterical giggle. She sat on a vacant chair and jiggled Nathan, who was grizzling softly on her lap, as she listened to the conversation which now resumed around her. As far as she could tell they were discussing the best way to get mud and cam cream out of combat kit.

Shoot me now, thought Maddy, is this what life holds for me? Is this to be the highlight of my days, gathering laundry tips? She thought back to her time at Oxford and conversations she'd had with fellow students. Never once could she remember anyone swapping household management advice. The smile on her face became more forced. This wasn't what she'd envisaged when she'd agreed to marry Seb. When they'd been dating, it had seemed to be all summer b.a.l.l.s, dinner nights and glamorous men in uniform. Not this. Not for the first time in recent weeks she wondered if she'd made a dreadful mistake.

Then, as Susie had predicted, the mothers pretty much left en ma.s.se to get other children from the playgroup or kindergarten, before preparing a meal for their menfolk. Maddy rose and made a move to escape. Nate had finally drifted off to sleep and was temporarily silent, and Maddy felt that if peace lasted a little longer she might get a few of Seb's shirts ironed, before he came home for lunch.

'Hang on,' said Susie. She rummaged through a pile of papers, stuffed behind the clock on the mantelpiece. Maddy noticed the number of invitations wedged by their corners into the frame of the overmantel mirror. No wonder Susie ran the babysitting circle, she must be constantly out and, when her daughters were back from prep school, in need of childcare. Susie found what she was looking for and handed it to Maddy.

'Your tokens,' she said. 'Plus a list of the circle members, telephone numbers, number of kids, that sort of thing.'

Maddy opened the envelope and glanced at the sheet. If nothing else, it would be a useful aide memoire as to who lived where on the patch. She stuffed it back in the envelope.

'Thanks.'

'Stay to lunch.'

'That's really kind but Seb's expecting me back.'

'Ring him. Tell him to have lunch in the mess. He'll probably be happy to pretend he's back there, living in.' Susie must have seen the expression on Maddy's face. 'Sorry, that came out all wrong. I didn't mean he might be regretting getting married but it's a big step for the lads when they move out of that all-boys-together atmosphere and have to grow up.'

Frankly, Maddy didn't think Seb had really grown up. She still felt a nagging irritation about the way he'd abandoned her and Nate when they'd moved house and sometimes it seemed as if she was his personal scout now, the way she picked up after him, did his laundry and had his meals ready on demand. f.u.c.k it, she thought, f.u.c.k his shirts, she would stay to lunch and if they didn't get done, he could iron them. Even if Susie did intimidate her more than a little it would be nice to make another friend on the patch.

Seb seemed very relaxed about Maddy's decision when she phoned him. Then he said, sotto voce, 'Good move, getting in with the boss's wife. You could offer to have her round to ours for lunch, too. Never does any harm to be friends with the OC and his missus.'

He was right, of course, but Maddy preferred to have friends just because they got on, not for ulterior reasons.

Susie bustled about in her kitchen, which Maddy noted with interest was just as shabby as her own.

'Just soup and bread. Wine?'

Maddy shook her head. She might gag for a gin in the evening, but she tried not to drink during the day, except very occasionally at weekends. 'No thanks,' she said.

Susie stopped in her tracks. 'Just one, surely?'

'No, really.' She looked at Nate, who would provide the perfect excuse. 'I'm still breastfeeding. Maybe something soft?'

Susie rummaged in a cupboard which, as far as Maddy could see, was mainly used for storing tonic water, and emerged with a bottle of elderflower cordial.

'Perfect,' said Maddy. Susie poured it into a tumbler and added a couple of ice cubes.

'You don't mind if I do?' said Susie, whisking a bottle of white out of the fridge and cracking off the screw top. She filled a large gla.s.s to the brim. 'Now then, what can I tell you about army life and the patch...?'

Maybe it was the wine that loosened Susie's tongue, but after a while Maddy felt that she was hearing just a little too much gossip about the other wives. Which was frankly disturbing because it made Maddy wonder what the h.e.l.l Susie would say about her and Seb. For instance, Maddy wasn't really sure she needed to know quite what a bad influence Susie thought Caro was.

'She's very relaxed with some of the senior wives,' said Susie. 'Too relaxed, if you know what I mean. Doesn't do the right thing or she does it in the wrong way. And she doesn't support Will properly.'

Which made her sound more like some sort of truss, thought Maddy.

'Will won't get promoted much beyond major, with such a loose cannon in his corner.'

But was promotion the be-all and end-all? Susie had intimated it was and that she was sacrificing everything for Mike's future prospects, but looking at the lines of discontent etched into her face and having heard the complaints she'd already made about the moves and sending her kids off to prep school, Maddy wondered if it was really worth it. Surely, she thought, there had to be a compromise. But on the other hand she knew Seb was fiercely ambitious; she didn't think he'd be too impressed if he found her to be more of a hindrance than a help. He'd probably cheer if she became more like Mrs N or Susie, a prospect which frankly frightened her.

When Maddy got away she was even more worried about what she'd taken on by becoming an army wife. The previous evening, when her parents had phoned to announce their safe return from their holiday, she'd admitted her doubts to her mum, but her mum's response had been that it was probably just a touch of the baby blues and she'd snap out of it once Nate started sleeping through the night. But what if it wasn't just that? What if she wasn't cut out to follow the drum?

As she strolled home, she wondered if she could really face the next thirty years of being a regimental wife, of bracing up, getting on with it and toeing the line. Her thoughts were interrupted when a little blue Corsa screeched to a halt beside her. The pa.s.senger window wound down and the driver leaned across and yelled 'Coo-ee' at her.

'Jenna.'

'You look like you've lost a quid and found a penny,' said Jenna.

Maddy forced a bright smile. 'No, just miles away. Honest.'

'I was hoping to see you. Just been round at Caro's cutting her boys' hair. Anyway, I wanted to thank you.'

'Thank me? What on earth for?'

'We got a quarter. Lee's just phoned and told me. And I know it was down to you.'

'No, it wasn't. Truly, it must just be the luck of the draw.'

'Get away with you, I know you pulled some strings. Anyway, I won't keep you but I owe you one for this.' And with a cheery wave and a puff of exhaust fumes, Jenna's car zipped away.

It wasn't me, thought Maddy, it was just luck. If Jenna knew what Seb had said to her about being some sort of do-gooding Lady Bountiful trying to solve the soldiers' problems she'd know that nothing was further from the truth.

Another thing she'd got wrong, she thought morosely, as Nate started to cry once more. c.r.a.p as a mother, c.r.a.p as a military wife...

At least, though, Jenna was happy. Like she had been a few months ago. Disconsolately, Maddy wondered how long it would last.

8.