Soldier's Daughters (17 page)

‘Who can that be?’ she said grumpily. God, she’d just got her husband home and she didn’t want to start sharing him. Hadn’t the army had enough of him?

Seb pulled his phone from a pocket and glanced at the screen. ‘Just one of the new team confirming contact details.’ He stuffed his phone away again.

‘You’ve given them your mobile number? What’s wrong with your work number? I hope they’re not going to be calling you at all hours of the day and night.’

‘I doubt it. What’s for supper? I’m starved. And where’s Nathan?’

‘To address all of those points: one, good, or they’ll have me to answer to; two, supper is sticky chops and rice; three, when aren’t you; and, four, Nate’s in bed.’

Seb flicked the end of Maddy’s nose with his finger. ‘Silly goose!’

Maddy giggled. Goodness, it was nice to have Seb home, even if he did smell a bit like a tart. ‘Gin?’

Seb eased his shoulders, still stiff from the drive. ‘I’d love one, really I would.’

Maddy pottered into the kitchen to pour his drink and as soon as her back was turned Seb got his phone out and re-read the last text. Keeping one eye on the kitchen door, he texted back an answer to the message.

Missing you 2 can’t w8 for next weekend xx

As he hit send he remembered his very recent resolution to keep Michelle at arm’s length but, as he hit another button to delete the record of messages, he told himself that if he hadn’t replied she’d have texted again. Better that he did this than risk Maddy wanting to know who was contacting him. Yes, this was the only course of action possible. He stuffed his phone back in his pocket as Maddy returned with his drinks.

She handed him his gin and sipped at an orange juice before she plonked herself in an armchair.

‘I was thinking of inviting that new officer round to have supper with us, you know, the female REME officer.’

‘Sam Lewis?’

‘That’s the one. She rang me the other day. It seems we’ve got a mutual friend.’

‘Oh? Who’s that?’

‘One of the wives.’ No way was Maddy going to tell Seb it was Jenna. ‘Anyway, she seems really nice. You wouldn’t mind that, would you?’

‘Not if you’re feeling up to it.’

‘I told you, I’m much better.’

Seb slurped his gin. ‘Just a thought, but if you feel like doing a bit of entertaining would it be an idea to pay back some of the other people we owe hospitality to as well? And then Sam could meet some other people socially. That’d kill lots and lots of birds with one stone.’

Maddy considered the idea. ‘I was planning a sort of kitchen supper but I suppose we could have a bit of a party. Maybe if we left it a few weeks so I was sure of being better… It’s an idea. I’ll think about it. In the meantime, if I don’t put the rice on, you’re not going to eat.’

Even though Maddy was feeling better, tiredness was still an issue and it wasn’t long after they’d eaten that she felt her eyes beginning to droop.

She glanced at her watch. Would Seb think he was in with a chance if she suggested she fancied an early night? She considered this as a possibility and decided that if he did, it would be rather nice. She really was feeling a lot better.

She yawned expansively. ‘I think I’ll turn in.’ She gave Seb an encouraging smile.

‘Off you go, then. I’ll try not to wake you when I come up.’

Oh, so not his normal, frustrated reaction. Maddy wasn’t sure if she was glad or not.

‘Hi, Sam,’ said Michelle after a single ring.

Sam laughed. ‘You must have been sitting on your phone.’

‘I was. Waiting for a call.’

‘And I take it you weren’t waiting for mine.’ There was the merest hesitation. ‘That’ll be a “yes”, then, will it? And I imagine it’s Bas you were expecting to ring.’

‘Sorry.’

‘Don’t be. Listen, I’ll be quick – I don’t want to be responsible for ruining your love life… When I ring off I want you to get your diary out and text me weekends that you’re going to be free between now and Christmas. We haven’t seen each other for an age and I really need a girly weekend.’

‘That’s going to be tricky.’

‘Oh, come on, ’Chelle. You can’t be seeing Bas every weekend.’

‘No, not as such. But the rowing training is full on.’

‘So, you are.’

‘Not like that. Well… OK, I’ll come clean, a bit like that. But we will be rowing as well. Honest.’

‘Bloody hell, Michelle, you must have it bad for Bas. I mean, you usually only do sport when you have to. What’s come over you? And if you answer “Bas” to that last question I shall vomit.’

Sam heard a dirty laugh down the phone. ‘All right, I won’t. And I’ll send you those dates. Promise.’

‘You see that you do. Bye, hon.’

‘Bye.’

Michelle’s text came through the next morning when Sam was at her desk.

‘One date? One poxy date!’ She chucked her phone back on to her desk in disgust and flipped open her own diary. Unsurprisingly, that date was free. She wrote in that she and Michelle would spend it together and was about to shut it up when her phone rang. She picked it up.

‘Captain Lewis,’ she said.

‘Oh, hello,’ said a woman’s voice she didn’t immediately recognise. ‘It’s Maddy. Maddy Fanshaw.’

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 sighed. ‘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.’