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Authors: Robert Edric

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BOOK: Peacetime
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It was the contemplation of this, and of that coming day's work, that finally drove all thought of Jacob from his mind. He knew that if he had not reached his room at Bail's Yard, then he would hear about it. In all likelihood, Bail himself would come out on one of his resurrected machines.

He was distracted from his charts by the noise of the approaching lorries and he went outside to await them.

The first arrivals disembarked at some distance from the tower, and they seemed to Mercer to be more subdued than usual. He went to them. The remaining lorries passed him on the road driving towards the houses and the sea, and it was only as he saw the men gathered together that it occurred to him that they had perhaps come upon Jacob, still lying where he might have fallen in the night. Approaching them closer, he was relieved to hear laughter. Several of the men saw him and stood aside, and it was only then that he saw Mary and Lynch at their centre.

The man was holding court, and it was immediately clear to Mercer that he already knew some of these others from their time together in the town. Mercer regretted that he would now be obliged to confront the man not only in the presence of Mary, but in the midst of the labourers, too. He saw what an added advantage their presence offered Lynch, and how they might be
made to side with him against Mercer and the unwelcome demands he made on them. He saw what an appreciative audience Lynch now had, what he had so easily gained. He remembered the message beneath the tower door.

The foreman saw him coming and he told the others to pick up their tools and start working. They were reluctant to do this and did nothing to hide their reluctance. The presence of Lynch, Mercer saw, made them brave.

Lynch complained loudly that he hadn't finished talking with ‘his mates', and that he didn't appreciate being interrupted. Mercer knew better than to respond to this calculated provocation.

Mary, he saw, was barefoot, and wearing her mother's short skirt and blouse. The blouse was armless and with a low neckline. She had again brushed back her hair and tied it off her face. She was clearly uncomfortable at the centre of the men. She avoided looking at Mercer.

Lynch wore a vest and his Army trousers and boots, looking no different from any of the others. He had tattoos on each of his upper arms, and he was showing these to the men around him as Mercer arrived. One of the designs was of a near-naked woman and Lynch was performing a trick which involved flexing and relaxing the muscle upon which she was drawn. His arms were thin and dark, accentuated by the whiteness of his vest. The sides of his ribs showed. Mary stood close beside him.

He uses her like bait
, Mercer thought.

The foreman shouted again for the men to start work, but again few responded to this.

And then Lynch said, ‘Come on, lads, do as you're told. Poor bloody infantry, jump to it,' and he saluted
the foreman, soliciting even more laughter. He said something to Mary and she moved even closer to him. She watched Mercer as he walked amid the reluctantly dispersing crowd, and then bowed her head as he finally entered the circle of the few remaining men.

‘Be fair,' Lynch said loudly. ‘They're officers. What can you expect? Never dirtied their hands in their lives. That's what
you're
here for.'

There was a chorus of sour agreement at this. Lynch had turned himself into their unelected and unassailable spokesman: what they felt but were unable to say, he might now say but not necessarily feel; where they felt themselves shackled by the authority of Mercer and the work ahead, Lynch stood uncompromised by all authority.

Mercer waited without speaking as the last of the men finally withdrew and started work.

‘Sorry for any delay, Major Mercer, sir. Just me and the lads having a bit of a chinwag. You know what us old soldiers are like. Have to stick together. Me and the girl were just having a look round, didn't even know this lot were due.' It was an obvious lie – the routines of the site were long since familiar to everyone who lived and worked there – but Lynch did nothing to disguise the fact. ‘Catch you later, lads,' he called to the departing men. ‘Say goodbye,' he said to Mary. ‘Where's your manners?'

Mary said goodbye to the men still close enough to hear.

‘Don't worry – she'll keep me straight,' Lynch called after them.

It surprised and concerned Mercer to see how readily the workers had accepted Lynch, and how easily he had ingratiated himself by pretending to be one of them. He wondered how many of them knew
of the man's past, but then realized that this would not necessarily count against him in their own assessment and acceptance of him.

As he waited, Mercer saw one of the workers approach Lynch and then turn his back to Mercer as something secretive took place between them.

The man said something to Mary and she left them.

‘Go and say hello to your friend,' Lynch said loudly, and he pushed her away from him.

‘What are they doing?' Mercer asked her when she came to him.

‘Selling tobacco,' she said.

‘Is that what they were waiting for in the boats yesterday?'

‘It's not just him,' she said.

The transaction completed, Lynch came to them.

‘My ears are burning,' he said.

Mercer saw the bulges in his pockets and down the front of his vest.

‘So?' Lynch said. ‘You working for the coastguard now? Customs and Excise?'

‘No. But I do have an obligation to warn
them
' – he indicated the departing men – ‘against doing anything illegal.'

‘Warn them all you like,' Lynch said. ‘The stuff sells. The only advantage in selling it to them here as far as I'm concerned is that it saves me a long walk.'

‘The less you tell me, the better,' Mercer said. ‘And it might be—'

‘Came looking for you yesterday,' Lynch said.

‘I got your note.'

Lynch pulled a face. ‘And?'

‘I was busy until late.'

‘You were entertaining the Jew-boy,' Lynch said. ‘That's not “busy”. First of all, you, him and the other
one spend all afternoon spying on us from the dunes, and then you and him come back here for your tea together, all nice and cosy.' He turned to Mary. ‘What did I tell you? You want to watch yourself around men like that. They might not be after what the rest of them are after, but—'

‘He was exhausted. He's sick,' Mercer said, unwilling to tolerate the man's goading any longer. ‘Besides, she already knows him. And so, presumably, you know all about him, too.' He looked hard at Mary as he said this, hoping she understood his criticism of her.

‘I saw that stupid bit of glass he fobbed off on her mother,' Lynch said. ‘One born every minute, you ask me. Still, that's what your average Jew-boy's good at, I suppose. And you're right – she does tell me everything. We're like that, me and her.' He held up his crossed fingers. ‘Always were, always will be. Nothing's changed in that department. Anything I want to know, I just have to ask. I know, for instance, that you're forever sniffing around her.'

‘He isn't,' Mary said. She looked anxiously from her father to Mercer. ‘I never said that.'

‘Didn't need to,' Lynch said, encouraged by her sudden alarm. ‘I've got eyes in my head. I hear things. And her next door has an opinion or two on most things. Well?'

‘Well what?' Mercer said, feigning a composure he did not feel.

‘You been taking an interest in her?'

‘I only said—' Mary said, but then stopped abruptly.

‘Only said what?' Lynch said.

‘I only said you'd been considerate to us, to all of us,' Mary said, speaking now directly to Mercer. The revelation embarrassed her.

‘“Considerate”,' Lynch said. ‘That's another big word. Kind of word that covers a multitude of sins.'

‘And probably not one that you hear too often in connection with yourself,' Mercer said.

Lynch considered him without speaking for a moment and then slowly applauded him. ‘Very clever. She said you were quick on your feet. Next you'll be telling me that we're trespassing. I was going to come by myself and wait for the lorries, but she insisted on coming with me. Wanted to dress herself up, come with her old dad and see him in action. Like a shadow, she is.' He winked at his daughter and then repeated the gesture until she responded.

‘She always struck me as being very independent-minded,' Mercer said, conscious that whatever he now said about Mary would later be twisted and used against her. One way or another, he realized, everything he said would only fuel the man's resentment and anger.

‘Her mother said I ought to see you about a job on the site. Said it'd look good for me. I told her it wasn't really my speciality, digging holes in the dirt while somebody looked on and told me to dig deeper. Had enough of that sort of thing in Colchester.'

‘I can imagine,' Mercer said.

‘No you can't. Not your sort. That's what I was trying to get through to her' – he motioned towards Mary – ‘what I was trying to get through to the pair of them. There's “them” and there's “us”. They think the war's changed it all, but they don't know bugger-all, not really.'

‘You could find work in the town if you were serious about it,' Mercer said. ‘And, technically, yes, you are trespassing. But then you knew that already, so I won't insist on you leaving. I've told her and the children
often enough not to go too close to the workings, but they always do.'

‘Like I said,' Lynch said. ‘Like father, like daughter.'

Mary pulled up the neck of her blouse and held her hands on her shoulders.

‘What do you think of her new clothes?' Lynch said. ‘I told her mother that she ought to start buying her something a bit more – what's the word?'

‘Fashionable?' Mercer said.

‘Something a bit more becoming for her age. Look at her, she's not a kid any more. You've only got to look at the faces of some of this lot to see that.'

Again, the remark embarrassed Mary, and it was difficult for her to hide how she felt.

Seeing this, Lynch smiled and said, ‘See – now I've hurt her feelings. Typical woman. What you think?'

‘What I think is that I ought to be getting to work,' Mercer said. ‘Go and stand over someone digging a hole.'

‘Course you should. You're a busy man. Everybody can see that. Expecting him back, are you?'

‘Who?'

‘The Jew-boy, that's who.'

‘You don't even know the man,' Mercer said.

‘What is there to know? Him and the Jerry – that's a bit strange, don't you think? One lot spends years trying to get rid of the other lot, and now here they are, living in each other's pockets and looking out for each other like they're the best of friends.'

‘They
are
friends,' Mercer said.

‘Don't make me laugh. You'll be telling me next that Hitler and his mob weren't serious about what they were up to. Nuremberg – you listening to any of that? Wireless and papers are full of it. You ought to keep yourself up to scratch, mate. Thousands of 'em, still
walking round like they own the place. Perhaps – what's his name? – perhaps
Mathias
– perhaps he was tied up in it all, perhaps his hands are still dirty. Perhaps
that's
why he wants to stop here and not get sent back home. Perhaps they're still looking for him, and he knows better than most what's waiting for him when he finally does get sent back.' He pulled an invisible rope round his neck.

‘You're being ridiculous,' Mercer told him. He regretted that the unfounded accusation and all it implied had been made in front of Mary.

‘You can believe what you like,' Lynch said. ‘But there's one or two others round here think the exact same as me.'

‘Then they're as ignorant and as blind and as bigoted as you,' Mercer shouted at him, stopping abruptly as the men working by the road turned to look at him.

Lynch applauded again. ‘Well done. That wasn't too hard now, was it? At least now we know where we stand, you and me. Perhaps you're right about everything and perhaps I'm wrong about everything, but think about this – in a month you and this lot will be long gone, whereas me and her and her mother will still be here and nothing else will have changed. Not a single thing. Nothing. It's like I was saying to her – you and your sort come here and stir everything up and then you just wander off somewhere else to do the same there and don't give a toss about what you leave behind. You can tell me I'm stupid and blind every single day you're here, but it won't alter facts, not in the long run.'

It occurred to Mercer to wonder if, perhaps through the misunderstanding of his wife and daughter, the man truly believed him still to hold his commission, or if, as he suspected – and unlike Mathias's use of the
title – it was merely the easiest and most pointed of Lynch's insults.

Several of the workers approached them carrying coils of heavy hose from one of the pumps. They wanted to know which of the workings needed to be drained first. It was work upon which Mercer believed them to be already engaged and he was angry that it was not yet started. But with Lynch still looking on, he concealed this anger and told the men where to go.

One of them blew out smoke and said, ‘Nice stuff,' to Lynch, who raised his thumb and said, ‘Plenty more where that came from. You come straight to me or the girl. She knows where the stuff is and what it costs.' He turned back to Mercer. ‘Real asset, she's going to be.'

The men laughed and walked away, the hose trailing on the ground behind them.

Waiting for Mary to catch his eye, Mercer said ‘Goodbye' to her and followed them.

‘That's right – you just walk away,' Lynch said, not loudly, but loudly enough for Mercer to hear and yet pretend not to have heard. ‘See?' he said to his daughter.

BOOK: Peacetime
5.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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