Soldier's Daughters (16 page)

‘Wotcha, Luke.’

He looked up. ‘Immi. Come to book out?’

‘Yeah. Thought I’d go into Warminster.’

‘Off you go, then.’ He returned to his iPad.

Immi sighed. She did not like to be ignored. She hadn’t dolled herself up to the nines to have blokes fail to notice her, especially not Luke.

‘Aren’t you going to ask me what I’m planning to do this evening?’

Luke kept his eyes on his book. ‘No.’

Immi tapped her foot and stared over his head and out the window as she thought of a way to grab his attention. Driving past the guardroom was Luke’s boss, Captain Lewis, in a car with Captain Rosser. ‘Who’d have thought it?’ she said out loud.

This time Luke did look up and followed Immi’s gaze to the car waiting for the barrier to be lifted.

‘Do you think they’re an item?’ said Immi. ‘That’s the second time I’ve seen them together.’

‘Really?’ said Luke.

‘I think it’s rather sweet.’

Luke stared at her. ‘Rosser and Lewis? Sweet? Get a grip, Immi. Captain Lewis could do so much better than that twat Rosser.’

‘Rosser’s not a twat, he’s nice.’

Luke shrugged.

Shit, Blake might be gorgeous but he was insufferable. Slyly, she said, ‘Just because you fancy her.’

For a second Luke looked thunderous then he said, ‘Really, Immi, don’t be stupider than you can help.’

She couldn’t resist goading him further. ‘Fibber.’

‘Well, if that’s what you want to believe,’ he said coldly.

She’d thought she was joking – now she wasn’t so sure.

Michelle’s evening with Bas was not going according to her plan. Talk about taking a horse to water and making it drink, she thought as she stared at Bas across the table of the little curry house near the Aldershot garrison mess.

‘Good curry, isn’t it?’ she said, as she broke off another piece of naan bread and dipped it in the delicious sauce that accompanied her chicken dish.

Bas nodded as he chewed. ‘Lovely.’

Getting him to throw the conversational ball back was proving to be uphill work. It was almost as if he was regretting asking her out and he looked as if he had the cares of the world on his shoulders. Where was the light-hearted, flirty Bas who had taken her out to dinner that very first weekend?

‘So,’ she said, making yet another effort to get him to chat, ‘what got you into rowing?’

‘Basically it boiled down to the school I attended. As simple as that.’

‘Yes, but I did hockey at school but I didn’t carry on after I left.’

Bas shrugged. ‘Well, I wasn’t really planning on making a career out of being a rower but when you wind up at Oxford… Well, first my college wanted me to row and then I got spotted as having some potential. Anyway, I almost made the blue boat.’

Michelle had learnt enough about rowing over the previous few days to know the significance of what Bas had said. ‘Blimey. How almost?’

‘To be honest, I’m not sure. I picked up a stupid injury, broke my collar bone a couple of months before the race so I couldn’t train. Maybe I wouldn’t have been selected anyway, but I’ll never know.’

‘That’s tough.’

‘That’s life.’ Bas chewed on some more lamb pasanda. ‘Anyway, no one died.’

But Michelle could tell from the tone of his voice that though a person may not have died, his ambition had.

‘But didn’t all that commitment mean you never had a social life? Let’s face it, we’ve all been training this week and the others are bitching about not having a day off over the weekend and being completely knackered already, and we’re only halfway through.’ She smiled at Bas. ‘And we’re beginners – so not doing anything like the training you must have done. I can’t imagine how it would have been at Oxford with rowing and your studies. Your only spare time must have been spent sleeping.’

‘Depends whether you date another rower,’ said Bas. ‘If your partner rows then you tend to spend a certain amount of time together.’

‘And did you? Date another rower, that is?’

There was a bit of a pause. ‘I did while I was up at Oxford.’

‘And are you still seeing her?’ God, she was being nosy but she had to know where she stood.

Bas looked at his plate. ‘Things change.’

Ooh, hopeful. It sounded as if she’d left the scene. She poured some wine into Bas’s glass.

‘You have some, too,’ he said.

She poured herself a half-glass. ‘So,’ said Michelle, ‘what are your rowing ambitions now?’

‘I once hoped to make the Olympics. I thought I was in with a real shot because I rowed at Oxford with two guys that did make it. Remember Lyndon-Forster and Quantick…?’

‘Oh, God, yes. Gold medallists at London 2012.’

‘Well, I rowed with them. I wasn’t in their league, though.’

‘And you’d broken your collar bone.’

Bas nodded. ‘Yes, there was that, but that was in 2011 so theoretically I was fit for the trials for 2012, but then I did Op Herrick 14… I went out to Afghan at the start of the Olympic year so that was my chances stuffed, really.’

‘You really didn’t get the luck of the draw, then, did you?’

Bas shook his head. ‘But you still ask yourself whether you would have made it. I like to think I would but… well, I’ll never know, will I?’

‘Hang on,’ said Michelle a bit indistinctly, owing to a mouthful of murgh chicken. She swallowed before she continued. ‘You can’t give up. What about 2016?’

‘I suppose. It’s a big commitment when you decide to aim for a goal as high as that.’

‘But wouldn’t the army support you? And, you know, if you haven’t got any other commitments or relationships to hold you back…’ She let the sentence linger.

But all Bas did was shrug.

Michelle concentrated on clearing her plate and wondered how, short of asking him straight out, she could find out if she had any competition? With her plate empty and her stomach full she leaned back in her chair.

‘Pud?’ said Bas.

‘You have to be kidding. I am stuffed.’

‘Coffee?’

‘Tell you what, why don’t we go back to the mess and get one there? I could do with a walk to help me digest this lot.’

‘Good shout,’ said Bas.

Bas caught the waiter’s eye and signalled for the bill. The waiter came over with it on a salver. Bas glanced at it, extracted a couple of notes from his wallet and told him to keep the change.

‘Ready?’

Michelle nodded and felt an anticipatory thrill about what might happen next zing through her.

They pulled on their coats and headed out into the autumnal evening where a brisk wind was swirling some dead leaves around on the pavement. Despite her jacket, Michelle shivered.

‘Cold?’

‘I’ve been warmer,’ she admitted. She walked close to Bas and linked her arm through his. He didn’t object. She snuggled closer. ‘That’s better,’ she said. ‘Shared body heat is the best way to keep warm, or so I’ve been told.’

‘It’s more convivial than a thermal blanket,’ said Bas.

Michelle laughed. ‘And you don’t look like an oven-ready turkey.’

They strolled towards the turning that would lead back to the officers’ mess. Michelle kept the pace as slow as possible, enjoying the moment. She felt ridiculously happy to be in his company. It felt so completely right and there was nothing about him that she didn’t like. She stared up at him. Because she was five feet eleven it wasn’t often that she could go out with a man and wear heels and still be shorter than her escort, but Bas, at nearly six feet six, certainly made that possible.

Bas must have been aware of her stare because he turned his face towards her. Was it desire or the fact that it was dark that made his pupils so dilated? And was he going to kiss her…? Michelle waited, her heart hammering, willing him to make the move.

Oh, sod that. She took the initiative. She stood on tiptoe and raised her mouth to his, terrified that he might recoil or rebuff her. And he didn’t. Their lips met and then suddenly he was holding her tight against him and she felt the vibration of a groan escape. She parted her lips and let him explore her mouth. She lost track of time as they stood there, on the main road, oblivious to the traffic passing them, to the curious stares of passers-by, to the chill wind that played around their ankles, she was so wrapped up in the moment.

Finally, when they drew apart, Michelle’s legs felt wobbly so she remained clinging to him.

‘Wow,’ she sighed, half to herself.

‘Wow, indeed,’ said Bas.

Michelle felt steady enough to disentangle herself from him. ‘Well,’ she said lightly, ‘this isn’t getting us that coffee, is it?’

‘Coffee’s the last thing on my mind right now,’ said Bas, his voice thick with emotion. He gazed at Michelle with undisguised longing.

‘What is on your mind?’

Bas smiled at her lazily. ‘You don’t want to know.’

Michelle raised her eyebrows. ‘I think I do.’

They arrived at the mess. Bas opened the door and held it for Michelle to go through first. The entrance hall, starkly lit, was empty, and the mess was silent. For some reason Michelle was rather glad, because she couldn’t help but feel faintly furtive and guilty about making her way to Bas’s room. They crept up the thickly carpeted stairs and along the corridor. Still no one. When they got through the door to his room Michelle found herself giggling stupidly.

‘What’s the matter? What’s so funny? What have I done?’ Bas looked bemused.

Michelle brought herself under control. ‘It’s just…’ She hiccupped as she swallowed another burst of giggles. ‘It’s as if we’re behaving like we’ve got a huge guilty secret, creeping around like this. And it’s mad, because it isn’t as if we aren’t both free and single.’

Bas stared at her.

Michelle felt her heart plummet; she’d ruined the mood. ‘Aw, come here.’ She stepped towards Bas.

‘Michelle…’ He hesitated. ‘I don’t think…’

She drew even closer. ‘You don’t think you can resist me?’ She slipped off her jacket and began to unbutton her shirt.

Bas watched her hands, mesmerised. Then Michelle shrugged her shoulders and let the garment fall to the floor, revealing her tiny, lacy bra.

Bas groaned. ‘Oh, God, Michelle.’ Then it was like someone had flicked a switch. He seemed to come to his senses and his eyes focussed instead of having a hazy, dreamy look. ‘No, Michelle,’ he said with sudden determination. ‘No, stop. I mustn’t. It… it’s… it wouldn’t be appropriate.’

‘Appropriate? Who are you kidding?’

‘But I’m your instructor.’

Michelle grinned. ‘At rowing, yes. However, given what we’re about to do, I reckon I could teach you a thing or two.’ She moved her hand forward and rubbed his crotch. ‘And don’t lie, Bas. You want me as much as I want you.’ Slowly she began to draw the zip of his fly downwards and as Bas’s erection stiffened, Michelle knew that any doubts he had were crumbling.

Seb found it hard to concentrate on the way home. What had he done? he asked himself, over and over. He’d tried to resist Michelle but she’d hypnotised him, she’d bewitched him and then, ultimately, she’d seduced him. He was just a man, when all was said and done, and what man, offered sex with a gorgeous woman, would have the resolve to refuse? Not that it was going to happen again. Ever. He’d made his mind up; it had been a one-off, an aberration and, as long as he didn’t tell Maddy, she’d never be any the wiser.

Only it hadn’t been a one-off, had it? Michelle had returned to his room in the garrison mess on three subsequent nights. In fact, it would have probably been every night but their love-making had been so passionate and energetic that they’d agreed that they needed time apart to get some much-needed sleep or the rowing would have been utterly useless.

Seb felt his heart pound as he remembered their nights together. God, she was a minx. Maddy could be pretty good in bed but Michelle… A whole different league. It was a bit like comparing a Vauxhall Conference football team with Real Madrid. He felt his cock stiffen at the memory and had to adjust his trousers as he drove. He was going to sleep like a log tonight. Never had the expression ‘shagged-out’ been more appropriate. Anyway, he didn’t think Maddy would mind; Michelle had probably done her a favour, he thought, disloyally.

Ah, Maddy… His feeling of arousal turned to guilt. He’d committed adultery. He’d betrayed the mother of his child… worse, children. Whichever way he cut it, he was massively in the wrong. It would be fine, he kept telling himself. If he ignored the issue it would eventually go away. And when he and Michelle met at the next training weekend he would tell Michelle the truth – he would tell her that he was married and that what had happened had been a mistake and that it couldn’t happen again.

Maddy heard the car draw up in their drive and raced to the door.

‘Seb, you’re back,’ she called to him from the doorstep as he got out of the car and stretched. ‘I’ve missed you.’

‘Have you?’

Maddy nodded. ‘It’s been a fortnight. That’s a long time. Little Nate has got another ten words.’

‘Has he? That’s brilliant. And has he missed me?’ Seb collected his stuff from the boot and walked over to Maddy and planted a big kiss on her forehead.

‘I expect so. His conversation isn’t up to discussing his emotions yet. If it isn’t to do with his toys and food then I’m afraid you’re out of luck.’ Maddy snuggled up next to him. ‘Hmm, you smell nice.’

‘Do I?’

‘It’s not like you to use aftershave.’

‘Aftershave?’ Then there was a second or two hesitation. ‘Oh, I know what it must be. It’s probably the poncy shower gel I found in the boathouse. Yes, that’d be it.’

‘That’s all right, then. You smell like a girl so I was almost worried there.’ Maddy giggled. ‘Come in. All the heat is escaping.’

‘And how are you?’ Seb dumped his holdall in the hall.

‘Quite a bit better,’ said Maddy. ‘Still throwing up in the morning but it’s not so bad during the day. I think I’m over the worst.’

‘I am so pleased.’

Maddy looked at him. She knew he was glad that she was better – of course he was, but she knew her husband. He was pleased because her being better would let him off the hook regarding any household chores. Oh, well, she’d never even pretended to herself that she’d married him for his domestic skills. She heard his mobile signal an incoming text.