Soldier's Daughters (9 page)

‘Poor you.’

‘I wouldn’t worry about it. I don’t.’ Sam’s stomach rumbled loudly. ‘Excuse me,’ she said, giggling. She glanced at her watch. ‘Oi! Oi, you two,’ she yelled to the other two. ‘It’s lunchtime. Let’s go and find some scoff.’

The other two wandered over, puffing and panting from their exercise, while James got to his feet and held out his hand to help Sam to hers. She took it and pulled herself upright, then dusted more sand off the seat and the upper part of her trousers, giving up when she got to her knees. ‘Yuck,’ she said. ‘Cold, wet jeans. Still, it was worth it.’

The four of them picked up the rugs, shaking them out before folding them up, and then the group wandered companionably up the beach, discussing what they fancied eating. They strolled along the promenade, past the beach huts and the seaside residences, the smell of frying and vinegar leading them by their noses until they found a mobile catering van.

They each ordered a portion of cod and chips and took their hot parcels of food to a nearby sheltered bench, where they tucked in and basked in the warm October sun in silence till they’d finished.

‘I am stuffed,’ said Sam, finally admitting defeat and laying her little wooden chip fork back on the newspaper. ‘Full to busting.’

‘Me too.’ James scrumpled up his paper and the remains of his meal and took Sam’s leftovers too. He shoved them in a nearby bin, watched beadily by an opportunist seagull, which took flight with an angry cry when it realised it was out of luck.

‘Now what?’ said Sam. She pulled her fleece on. A sudden veiling of cloud had encroached over the sun and while it was still glorious the temperature had fallen by a degree or two.

‘Home, I suppose,’ said Ben. ‘It’s getting too nippy for my taste.’

Sam nodded. ‘It was lovely, but the weather’s on the turn, isn’t it?’

They began to walk back to the car.

Sam sighed contentedly. ‘That was a lovely way to spend a Saturday.’

‘I bet it beat sitting in your room.’

‘It did. Maybe I’ll try hanging around downstairs a bit more in the future.’

‘You should. As I said yesterday, we don’t bite.’

Sam shrieked with laughter as Ben suddenly pounced in front of her with a snarl and a growl. ‘Except then the moon is full.’

‘You’re nuts!’

As Sam and her friends were driving back from the coast Maddy was heading over to Jenna’s flat and trying to ignore any feelings of guilt about abandoning Seb and Nate.

‘Come in, come in,’ said Jenna as she opened the door to Maddy.

‘Hey, this is nice.’ Maddy had forgotten that Jenna had such good taste. She’d transformed her quarter back at the old barracks – although some of the transformations had been completely against army housing regulations. Jenna’s flat was light and airy, with a blond wood floor and some stunning prints on the walls.

‘Thanks,’ said Jenna. ‘Better than a crappy quarter, eh?’ She led Maddy through to the bathroom.

‘This is really kind of you to fit me in today. I felt a bit bad about interrupting your weekend but I haven’t found a childminder yet for Nathan.’

‘It doesn’t matter. I’m glad of the business, to be honest. And Dan’s out playing footie for the battalion so I’ve nothing better to do.’ She held out a gown for Maddy to slip into and then pushed a stool across the bathroom floor. ‘What do you want done?’

‘A bloody good cut, please. Work your magic on it.’

Jenna lifted a clump of Maddy’s hair. ‘I’ll do my best. Right, then, lean over the basin.’ She tucked a towel around Maddy’s neck and attached a shower head to the taps. ‘Tell me if the water’s too hot,’ she said as she drenched Maddy’s head.

‘Perfect,’ said Maddy with her eyes squeezed shut to stop water running into them. She mightn’t have approved of the backwash unit Jenna had had installed in her bathroom in her old quarter but it made for a more comfortable hair wash.

‘I had that new captain ring me today,’ said Jenna, conversationally, as she dolloped on the shampoo and began to bring it to a lather.

‘Which new captain’s that?’ mumbled Maddy, clutching the towel tight around her neck to keep the water from running down it.

‘Dan’s new boss. The REME girl.’

‘Oh, her. Is she nice?’

‘Dunno about nice; Dan says she’s a bit of a looker. I asked him what he meant by that and he said she’s got big tits.’

‘Really?’

‘Well, not that big, but he said she’s very curvy. Typical bloke, isn’t he, to notice something like that?’

Maddy nodded. ‘Good luck to her, I say. It must be tough to be in such a minority.’

‘Dan said she looks like a much younger Kylie, with short hair and bigger boobs. It’s got to help that she’s pretty, though.’

‘I suppose,’ said Maddy.

‘Although Dan also says Mr Williams – he’s the warrant officer in the workshop – is giving her a hard time. Obviously her looks cut no ice with him.’

And why should they? thought Maddy, but she didn’t say so. However pretty Sam Lewis was, Maddy didn’t think Jenna would have to worry about Sergeant Armstrong’s eye wandering.

‘Bet she has a blinding social life, though.’

‘How do you work that out?’

‘Stands to reason – being the only woman officer in the mess.’

‘You think?’

‘Of course. They’ll all be falling over themselves trying to get her to go out on dates so they can get into her knickers.’

Which didn’t sound like an ideal social life to Maddy. ‘I think a lot of the livers-in already have girlfriends,’ she said carefully.

Jenna snorted dismissively. ‘Like that means anything when there’s totty on tap. Trust me,’ said Jenna, ‘I know exactly what soldiers are like.’

Maddy didn’t doubt it.

‘They’re all the same,’ continued Jenna. ‘If they think they can have a crafty shag, and not get caught, they will.’

‘Seb’s not like that,’ said Maddy staunchly. Of course he wasn’t.

‘Maybe it’d be nice if you made friends with her,’ said Jenna. ‘Dan says she’s only young – your age-ish, I think. You ought to have her round one evening, maybe when your old man goes rowing training. He’s always doing that, isn’t he?’

‘Well, not so much in the evenings. Weekends, usually.’

‘But he’s not training this weekend.’

‘No – I think it was because of the hiatus of all the move here.’

‘She’s coming to have her hair cut next Saturday.’

‘Who?’

Jenna began to rinse Maddy’s hair. ‘That new officer.’

‘Then give her my number. I’d like a bit of company if she fancies an escape from the mess.’

‘Will do. Mind you, I’ll check her out first before I hand it over. If I think she’s a right cow I won’t bother.’

‘Come in, Corporal Blake.’ Sam’d made up her mind, as she’d set out to work on Monday morning, that she’d get through the rest of the initial interviews this week, come hell or high water. She was determined to know the names of every single one of the men under her command by Wednesday at the latest. Corporal Luke Blake was next on the list and, after what the ASM had told her about him, she was intrigued to meet him.

She studied the NCO as he approached her desk. He didn’t look odd, despite what the ASM had said. He looked far from odd with his thick, dark, wavy hair, very blue eyes, tanned skin and unfairly long eyelashes. He was also wearing just a khaki T-shirt with his multicam trousers and she could see his muscles under the stretchy fabric. The only thing that spoilt the image was the way he glowered at her from under his level eyebrows and the angry set of his mouth. Sam tried a tentative smile but he stared back impassively, his intensely blue eyes unwavering, as if he was analysing her. Sizing her up. The cheek. But there was one thing about him Sam was certain of: despite Corporal Blake choosing to nominate a male friend as his next of kin, he wasn’t gay.

‘Have a seat.’ She waited while he took his beret off and settled himself. ‘I’ve been looking at your records.’ She smiled at him.

‘Yes, ma’am.’

Even that short sentence told her he had a surprisingly educated accent. Which tied in with what the ASM had told her. ‘That’s quite a clutch of GCSEs you’ve got there.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘But you didn’t do A levels?’

‘No, ma’am.’

‘Any reason?’

‘Several.’

‘Which were?’ She tapped her pencil on the desk.

‘Leaving school was pretty instrumental, ma’am.’

‘But you could have gone to college with those results.’

‘Could… but didn’t.’

She sighed and put her pencil down before she broke it. ‘So, what about hobbies?’

‘I ski a bit.’

‘Did you learn through the army?’

‘No, ma’am.’

‘School trip?’

‘Not really.’

She leaned forward. ‘So
how
did you learn?’

‘With the Ecole du Ski Français.’

She took a long, deep breath before she continued. ‘Any other hobbies? Sports?’

‘A bit of swimming and cycling and I run.’

‘How much is
a bit
?’

‘Ironman triathlons.’

Sam kept her face impassive. She reckoned he was baiting her and she was
not
going to rise. She changed tack. ‘Where do you see yourself in ten years?’ she asked.

‘Depends where I get posted to.’

‘Rank-wise?’ she snapped.

‘Warrant officer, I hope.’

‘You could go for a commission.’

‘No!’

His vehement reaction wrong-footed Sam. ‘It was just a suggestion.’

‘A suggestion I would prefer to ignore…’ A pause, then, ‘Ma’am.’

‘May I ask why?’

Blake looked her directly in the eye and said, ‘No.’

Sam’s irritation with him was now morphing into real, cold anger. ‘Well,’ she said, trying to keep her voice steady, ‘I mustn’t keep you. I am sure you have plenty to be getting on with.’

‘Thank you… ma’am.’ Blake put his beret on his head and gave her a salute and a look that stopped just short of being insolent.

After he’d shut the door of her office Sam flopped back in her chair. First the ASM and now Blake. What had she done to deserve that pair in her workshop?

At lunchtime, after a long tedious morning cross-checking documents, Lance Corporal Immi Cooper strolled into the corporals’ club, which was above the newly re-located Tommy’s Bar. As she pushed open the door she once again thought that there were distinct advantages to having moved up from being a private soldier. For a start, she was now entitled to a single, en suite bunk and didn’t have to share the ablutions with the other women in the barracks. Not that there were many, but it was nice not to have to queue for the shower. The other advantage of having a stripe was automatic membership of the corporals’ club, which, unlike Tommy’s Bar, had carpet rather than lino on the floor, softer, plusher seating and was, mostly, far less rowdy and noisy. Immi, despite enjoying men’s company, did like being able to get away from the rough and tumble and casual sexual harassment that went with being one of only a dozen women in an otherwise all-male environment. Immi liked blokes, but on her own terms and not twenty-four seven.

Immi was looking as smart as she could in barrack dress and her web belt was cinched in as tightly as possible to emphasise her tiny waist. Her platinum hair – she’d got fed up with being brunette and had reverted to a previous favourite over the weekend – was in an immaculate chignon, which she knew made her rear view almost as eye-catching as the front one. She made her way to the bar to order a lemonade and lime and a sandwich, aware, as she did so, of a number of pairs of eyes following her. She patted the bun on the nape of her neck as she placed her order and then she leaned against the bar to survey who was already there, who she might fancy chatting up. There were only a handful of blokes present; not a lot of talent to choose from. Then she saw Corporal Blake, sitting on his own in a corner, mucking about with his iPad. He had to be the most fanciable bloke in the entire battalion, but he was an oddball – everyone said so. She watched him for a few seconds, taking in his dark, curly hair and very blue eyes framed by thick black lashes a super-model would covet. Sod the fact he was an oddball, maybe he’d like some company, she thought. Nonchalantly she wandered over in his direction and put her drink and sandwich down on the table.

‘Mind if I join you?’ she asked.

Luke gestured to the half dozen empty chairs before he said, ‘Be my guest.’

As Immi settled herself down, Luke returned to his iPad.

‘What’ya doing?’ she asked.

‘Reading.’ He didn’t look up.

Immi spluttered her drink. ‘Reading! Why?’

This time Luke did look up. ‘Because I can. I can even do it without pointing at the words with my finger and saying them out loud.’ He then gave Immi a look which seemed to imply that he didn’t reckon she could.

‘It’s a bit boring,’ she countered.

‘Depends on what you read.’ Luke pointedly turned his attention back to his iPad.

Immi stared at him with narrowed eyes. Oddball or no, there was no need to be a right arsey git.

Could she be bothered to sit here and be ignored by him or would she be better off cutting her losses and heading off to her room to watch a bit of daytime TV before going back to work? She stared at Luke, noticing how his lashes curved onto his cheekbones, taking in his tanned skin and his muscled shoulders. She willed him to look at her and see how interested she was in him, but nothing. Zip. Diddly-squat. She necked her drink and stood up. Luke carried on ignoring her. That’s it, she thought. Anything was going to be more fun than staying here if he was going to be like that. She grabbed her snack, swept out of the room and headed towards her block, already planning how she might make him notice her.

She was crossing the main road that led through the barracks when she had to step back onto the pavement as a little red sports car zipped past. Immi instantly recognised the driver: the new REME officer. A little buzz of jealousy pulsed through her. She would love a snazzy car like that, but she knew her salary wouldn’t allow it. And it wasn’t fair that this new officer looked so glam. Then Immi shrugged. So what? It wasn’t as if they’d be fishing in the same pond – not with Captain Lewis being an officer and everything.