Soldier's Daughters (13 page)

Very gently Jenna parted Sam’s hair and had a look at the injury. ‘Nasty.’

‘Luckily, I only got a really mild bout of concussion. I was fighting fit again in a few hours.’

‘Lucky you indeed. Mind you, you’d have been even luckier if you hadn’t been injured in the first place.’ Sam couldn’t fault Jenna’s logic. ‘So, what do you want done?’

Sam explained she wanted a good trim, ‘so it lasts for a couple of months.’

Jenna got busy with the shampoo, being very gentle around the bruised area, as she chatted to Sam about this and that – the weather, holidays, the usual hairdresser to client chit-chat. Then, ‘So what’s it like, being the only woman in the mess?’

‘It’s OK, I’m finding my feet and they’re mostly pretty friendly. I think they’re working it out that I don’t faint if I overhear the odd swear word or dirty joke.’

Jenna chuckled. ‘You don’t? Ooh, I am shocked! Talk about letting the side down.’

‘Exactly. No, to be honest, I’m finding it tougher at the LAD.’

‘Really?’

Sam nodded. ‘Don’t repeat this, but I don’t think the ASM likes me.’

‘Oh,
him
. I wouldn’t worry about Graham Williams. He and your predecessor, Ian Abbott, went way back. Abbott was commissioned from the ranks and I think he and Williams knew each other from apprentice college. Or that’s what I heard. There’s no way he’s going to like anyone who follows on from his best buddy.’

‘Honest?’

‘Cross my heart. I mean, it probably doesn’t help that you’re a woman, but that’s blokes in the army for you. I really don’t think it’s personal.’

Sam snorted. Indeed. The army might be outwardly all about equal opportunities but there was still a lot of casual sexism amongst some of its male soldiers.

Jenna finished rinsing out the first application of shampoo and began the second wash.

‘Jenna?’ said Sam.

‘Yes.’

‘What do you know about Corporal Blake?’

Jenna’s hand stilled as she considered the question, then, after a few seconds, she said, ‘Apart from him being odd, you mean?’

Sam nodded her head and felt water trickle down the back of her neck and under her T-shirt. Odd. That was the adjective everyone used. ‘Yes, apart from that.’

‘I met him at the LAD summer barbecue a few months ago. Apart from the fact he’s got a bloody great plum in his mouth I thought he was nice – the weather was fuck-awful and he gave me his jacket. And I could see the goose-bumps all over his arms, so he must have been freezing his knackers off, but he wouldn’t take it back.’

‘The perfect gentleman,’ said Sam wryly.

‘Nothing wrong with that,’ said Jenna, starting to rinse the suds out a second time.

No, there wasn’t, thought Sam. She remembered, despite his apparent irritation at being asked to look after her following her accident, he had been pretty solicitous. Well, once he’d got over being told to put his shirt back on.

‘Anyway, for all his brains and superiority and oddness, I reckon he’s got a kind heart in there somewhere.’

Maybe, thought Sam, but if there was, it was bloody deeply buried. Whenever she looked at him he seemed to be brooding about something.

Jenna started to towel-dry Sam’s blonde curls. ‘You met many of the wives yet?’

Sam shook her head from inside the confines of the fluffy towel. ‘Not really. Put it this way, at weekends I have observed them from a distance and decided that we probably don’t have that much in common. Of course, my dad was a soldier so I grew up on a patch but I looked at my friends’ mums as just that – mums.’

Jenna laughed. ‘Well, thankfully I’m not a proper army wife. I mean, me and Dan aren’t married for starters and I don’t live in a quarter. I did once and that was enough. Don’t you think the proper variety are all a bit Stepford?’

‘Stepford?’

‘You know, like the thriller, where the wives are like robots, designed to be perfect and help their husbands’ careers. No minds of their own, doing as they’re told, obeying regulations and not rocking the boat.’

Sam laughed, because, looking back at all her friends’ mums and then at the wives of the Sandhurst directing staff, she knew exactly what Jenna meant. ‘You may have a point,’ she agreed drily.

‘You’d like my friend Maddy, though.’ Jenna led Sam back into the kitchen and sat her down on a stool in front of a large mirror on the counter, propped up against the bread bin.

‘Maddy?’

‘I’ve been doing her hair for ages, since before 1 Herts got moved here, when they were at their last barracks. She’s nice.’ Jenna ran a comb through Sam’s hair to get out any tangles. ‘Officer’s wife, got a kid, but don’t let that put you off. She’s not all coochey-coo and baby-talk.’ Jenna started to snip. ‘And she’s been known to have a good bitch about the sort of shit the army flings at you, which is a lot if you’re a wife… or partner. In fact, when I told her I was going to be doing your hair she said I was to give you her number, in case you fancy a bit of female company now and again. Her husband is some sort of athlete; always away training, especially at weekends. I think you’d be doing her a favour too, if I’m honest. Remind me to get you her number before you go.’

Sam thanked Jenna but wasn’t sure about Maddy’s offer. Life as the only female in the mess mightn’t be ideal but she wasn’t convinced Maddy’s motives for friendship were entirely altruistic – was she just after someone to fill in the gap when her husband was away? And, furthermore, Sam wasn’t struck on kids. But even if she took the number, she didn’t have to ring it.

‘Love the hair,’ said James, when Sam returned to the mess later that afternoon.

Sam patted her newly cut curls. ‘I didn’t think men noticed stuff like that,’ she retorted, although she was inwardly pleased with the compliment.

‘Well, we do sometimes.’ James gave her a grin. ‘It’s a bit novel to have a mess member with a hairstyle as opposed to a number two buzz cut.’

‘Anyway, what are you doing back here? I thought you’d gone off to see your folks this weekend.’

‘I did and I have, and now I’m back.’

‘Oh, OK.’ Why, if he had the option to be somewhere else, would he want to come back to the mess early, which, at the weekends, had less life going on in it than a sterile Petri dish. Still, it was his decision. ‘Can’t keep away from the place, is that it?’

‘You mean, the lure of joining the pads for Sunday drinkies and chatting about nappy rash and marks on their carpets was too strong for me to resist?’

Sam giggled. James had absolutely nailed Sunday lunchtime conversation in the mess bar. Which was why Sam tended to stay in her room at weekends and which was also why she hadn’t yet really met any of the married officers’ wives. And that reminded her… she fingered the scrap of paper in her pocket that Jenna had given her.

‘Hey, James, do you know Maddy Fanshaw?’

‘Maddy? Of course I do. Lovely lady and married to Seb Fanshaw. Why do you ask?’

Sam shrugged. ‘We share a hairdresser and she said she thought we’d get on.’

‘You would. There’s nothing not to get on with where Maddy’s concerned. She’s a real star. Funny, pretty… I think half the single officers in the battalion are secretly in love with her.’ James laughed. ‘Maybe some of the married ones too, for all I know. Some of the guys are married to real dragons. I bet they’d swap what they’ve got for Maddy in a heartbeat, if the chance came up.’

‘Are you? In love with her, that is?’

‘No. No, not at all, she’s not really my type.’ He laughed then said, ‘Anyway, Seb’s twice my size and would probably knock down anyone who tried anything on with her at the drop of the proverbial hat.’

‘Well, since you seem to think so highly of her, maybe I’ll give her a ring.’

‘Do that. I’m sure the pair of you would hit it off.’ James smiled at her. Sam began to turn, ready to head to her room.

‘By the way,’ said James. ‘Um…’ He sounded a bit diffident. ‘I don’t suppose you fancy going out to supper tonight? Foolishly I booked out for all meals over the whole weekend so the staff won’t be catering for me tonight. I thought I’d go over to that nice pub – you know, the one on the road to Westbury – for sups. I’d love it if you’d join me, then I won’t look like Billy-No-Mates.’

This was a no-brainer – supper out with James or on her own in a lifeless mess? She didn’t even have to think about it for a second. ‘James, I’d love to. But let’s make it a Dutch treat, eh?’

‘It goes against the grain, but…’ He cocked an ear. ‘Yes, I can definitely hear the sound of my bank manager starting to breathe again. And you’re sure you don’t mind?’

‘No, I’d feel so much more comfortable about it. But if you want to make it a real treat you can drive, then I can have a drink.’

‘Deal!’

‘I’ll see you back here at…’ Sam looked at her watch ‘…half six? Or is that too early?’

‘Nope, perfect. See you then.’

Sam took the stairs two at a time back to her room, feeling strangely cheerful about the prospect of spending an evening with James. It was nice to have a friend in the mess and especially nice to have a friend who seemed to want to be just that – no other agenda. If it wasn’t for blooming Williams at the LAD she’d swear she’d almost been accepted by the battalion.

On hearing the bell, Maddy dragged herself to the front door. So much for being able to do some industrial-grade loafing while Seb was away for the weekend. Somehow, between the household jobs that really couldn’t be avoided, Nathan having a bad night, running out of milk and butter so she’d had to go shopping, and feeling absolutely bloody awful, there’d been no way she’d been able to chill out like she’d hoped. Maybe tomorrow, Sunday, would go more like she’d planned. Behind her, in the sitting room, Nathan was banging a wooden spoon noisily on his toy box, and that wasn’t helping things either, but Nate was happy, which was what mattered. Maddy opened the door and there, on the doorstep, was her husband’s boss’s wife, and good friend, Susie Collins. They’d been neighbours on the last patch, before the move, but Maddy and Susie had both been so busy getting their respective houses straight they hadn’t seen much of each other since arriving in their new location. Despite how crap she felt, Maddy felt a tiny little tweak of pleasure at seeing her old mate. She smiled, albeit weakly.

‘Hello, Susie.’

Susie stared at Maddy, her brow furrowed with worry. ‘Sweetie! You look terrible. Are you all right?’

‘Not really,’ admitted Maddy.

‘What can I do?’ said Susie, briskly. ‘I actually came round to see if you had any spare tea bags and I can see now it was a bloody good job that I ran out and had to make the call. It was obviously meant to be!’ She pushed past Maddy into the house. ‘So what’s the matter? Has the move completely knackered you, have you been overdoing things?’

‘Nothing like that, honest.’

Susie gave her a hard stare. ‘You don’t fool me, Maddy, something’s wrong. You sit down. I’m going to make you a cup of tea – assuming you haven’t run out of tea bags too.’ She saw Nathan begin to crawl towards them from the sitting room. ‘And don’t worry, I’ll see to the baby.’

Maddy gave in and allowed herself to be propelled to the sofa where she collapsed, while Susie scooped up Nathan and took him with her into the kitchen. She lay back against the cushions and her eyes shut. She heard Susie bustling about in the kitchen, opening and shutting cupboards, cooing at Nate, filling the kettle, putting it on… Oh, the bliss of being looked after. She relaxed, enjoying the moment.

‘Here’s your tea.’ Maddy opened her eyes again as Susie put a mug on the table in front of her. ‘I took the liberty of putting sugar in it. I think you need some energy, you look wiped out. Now, what’s the matter, Maddy? You look awful, like you’re going down with something dire.’ She looked so concerned Maddy felt she owed it to Susie to explain the situation.

‘I’m not ill, just pregnant. I was going to wait a few more weeks before going public… well, now you know.’

‘Ah…’ Susie nodded. ‘That would explain it. But congratulations. You must be thrilled.’

‘I know I should be…’ Maddy sighed, dejectedly. ‘But the sickness is awful this time. When I was expecting Nate it wasn’t half as bad.’

‘And back then you didn’t have someone waking you up early and needing constant attention.’

Maddy gave Susie a wan smile. ‘No, I didn’t. And Nate doesn’t give me much peace either.’

Susie grinned at her. ‘You should have told me before, though; I can help. With the twins back at boarding school I’m hardly pushed for time and things to do, am I?’

Maddy shrugged. ‘I know but I didn’t want to make a fuss. Other people manage.’

Susie shook her head in mild reproach before she sat down on the chair opposite Maddy. ‘Well, you don’t have to manage tonight; I’m here. How about you tell me what you were planning on cooking for Nathan’s supper and I’ll do it while you put your feet up.’

‘You don’t have to. Honest. Seb’s away for the weekend and Nate and I were going to have scrambled eggs on toast.’

‘I can do scrambled eggs on toast. And then when you’ve had that I’m going to give Nathan his bath and put him to bed. And when I’ve done that I suggest you go to bed too. You look done in, my dear, if you don’t mind me saying so.’

‘Oh, Susie, you don’t have to bath Nathan.’

‘Yes, I do. Don’t argue, and do as you’re told. Before I get started, though, I’m going to pop back over to Mike and tell him where I am, so he doesn’t send out a search party. And if I could nick those tea bags…’

‘Of course.’

‘Back in a mo.’

Nathan, safely corralled, picked up his wooden spoon again and banged on his toy box till Susie returned and took him into the kitchen, whereupon relative peace descended. Maddy could hear her making a fuss of her son, who was obviously lapping up the attention, judging by the gurgles and giggles, while she allowed her mind to drift. Thank goodness for the wonderfulness of her army-wife neighbours.

At tea-time on the last day of Bas’s selection weekend, all the rowers were lined up in front of the Eton College boathouse, waiting to hear the news before they dispersed back to their units. Had they, or hadn’t they, made the grade to go forward for further training? Katie, Michelle noticed, looked pretty indifferent, and maybe she was. However, Michelle herself had butterflies the size of eagles battering her ribcage with their wings and she hoped it wasn’t obvious to everyone that she was bricking it. She hadn’t felt this jittery since Sandhurst and she’d been waiting outside her company commander’s office for her final interview. Back then, she’d known she was going to be told one of two things: either she hadn’t made the grade and was going to be back-squadded, or she had made it and so she would be getting commissioned alongside all her peers. Then, like today, her knees had shaken so much she’d barely been able to stand.