Underbelly (66 page)

“
In what way?” Grey asked, concerned for him.

“
He doesn’t beat him. The second he does is when he gets a beating himself. Just the usual stepfather shit. I’m keeping a close eye on it. So your wife isn’t the one they were all going on about at last year’s get-together, the…? I won’t use that word, because I don’t want to put my foot in it in case it is. I’ve learnt my lesson; I’m careful where I put my feet now. The farfetched tale is that you were holed up with witches and you were seeing one of them.”

Grey shook his head, chortling at the suggestion, which he made out to be ridiculous. “She was stand-offish with them and they called her a bitch. How and why it got changed to witch, I don’t know, but it was a headache because I had the sergeant asking me about it, the padre, plus pretty much everyone I came into contact with from that point on. Jimmy Grey, witch fucker, was my new role in the platoon, which was still better than how I started out.”

“
Frankie said it was bullshit. He said that you were too far injured to be brought back too, and he’s not the only one who’s said that, and you’re walking like nothing’s happened to you. They already call you Lazarus, and that’s with them thinking you’d be in a wheelchair for life. When I tell them you’re walking – how do you top Lazarus?”

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You can tell them I’m doing more than walking. I’m running again now. The Olympic dream is back on.”

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Hey, tell them yourself. I see Frankie all the time and we’re hooking up with Fudd, Fallon and a couple of the other boys a week Saturday. It’ll be funny to see Fudd lost for words and you stood upright will definitely achieve that.”

Harvey proved to be a good drinking partner. While Grey liked a beer, smoking was his vice and he couldn’t keep up with Harvey who knocked back each successive pint like he’d not drunk for a month. It was arranged that Grey would meet Harvey at his home on Saturday and they’d make their way to the ball game, probably with Frankie Fanelli too, and then the week after he’d hook up with more of the old unit.

Laura only left town for a fortnight, following up an obscure lead she had regarding a prophet who lived in underground tunnels in New Jersey, a dangerous, unhinged man who appeared to be genuine (she used her powers to guide her to him, sensing something in him), but who was too far gone to be of any use to her. She made notes of some of his ramblings, which were of a biblical nature mixed with sexually explicit content. As she travelled back to New York she read through the sixty pages of shorthand notes she’d made and realised she was trying to sift for gold in a sewer. Even if there was something there she wasn’t going to see it for all of the shit. She’d had another idea concerning Grey and she took him and his wife out to a fish restaurant and made an effort to regale them, telling them of her week with the amazing, masturbating prophet. Grey told her about his miniature army reunion (only five other men from his unit had been present, and one had joined the unit after Grey had left) and his enjoyment at this fairly routine drinking session troubled her. Already, less than two years after the war, he was starting to don rose-colored spectacles about an awful experience. This was how society wanted men to recall their war years, their ‘glory days’, and it was a dangerous way to think as it could persuade them to risk all in future political skirmishes. She seemingly led conversation off on a tangent, recalling the armour worn by armies over the years, Laura giving colourful accounts of the varied suits and styles of armour she had witnessed over the years before coming to 20
^th
Century warfare, asking Grey what armour he wore in his time as a soldier, slowly getting to her point.

“
Nothing spectacular, Laura, just jacket, trousers – we didn’t have flak jackets or anything.”

“
So you had no armour whatsoever, even though weapons have improved from the bow and arrow to bullets, shells, mines. Isn’t progress a wonderful thing!” she said pithily.

“
So why do you think that was?” Germaine asked Laura, interested in what she had to say which made her see things in a different way, it seeming almost obscene to her that James and her father had gone to war kitted out in attire inferior to soldiers of the Middle Ages.

Laura rubbed her thumb and index finger together, Grey explaining to Germaine, “Laura thinks it’s the cost.”

“
And you don’t?” Laura said.

“
I don’t and that’s not me being blindly patriotic, I honestly don’t. Going to war in a full coat of armour has its merits with a minor drawback, which is that I would probably have drowned at Normandy. I can imagine roll call; ‘Where’s Grey?’ ‘He’s bringing up the rear, Sarge, 40 miles back.’ I would have been AWOL 100% of the time instead of just 50%. Armour would be great in battle and a burden at all other times.”

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Seriously, James, did none of you ask how your jacket or trousers were supposed to save you from bullets and shells?” Laura asked.

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Well, they weren’t going to, I guess. We just all hoped that we wouldn’t get shot. Give the government their due, they did give us helmets.”

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I understand that they couldn’t put you into head to foot metal armour, but couldn’t they give you something to protect your chest at least?” Germaine asked Grey. While she was enjoying the conversation and amused by both Laura and James, who she found funny in completely different ways (Laura was as dry as sticks, James’ humour broader), Laura’s ideas were making her think poorly of the governments who sent their men to fight ill-equipped.

Laura repeated the gesture with her thumb and finger, her smug smile at feeling proved right making Grey smile back at her. “Field that one, James.”

“
Thank you, Laura, I shall. When we went to Conrad’s he let me try on his flak jacket, which is nowhere near as good as my souvenir from the war,” he said, looking fondly at Germaine, “and I can tell from that that it would be too cumbersome for long-term wear, and not sturdy enough to have fully protected me from Irwin’s shot. In the government’s defence they are looking into producing armour for every soldier and not just the pilots, seriously. Two credible spirits attest to that. It’s about practicality, not finance.”

“
They could have looked into it before the war, because there are tens or hundreds of thousands of men who would have benefited from it. You didn’t need to be foresighted to see that war loomed. Why produce armour just for pilots? Why not for the ground troops?” Laura said.

“
It would still be oppressive and tire you out over a long distance if you were marching for a long time,” he said, looking at Germaine, who nodded at his answer, finding it satisfactory.

“
Vehicles were used and the Crusaders marched for a lot longer and further than you in their combat armour,” Laura countered. She was convinced she was right and was actually arguing his corner, that he had been hard done by, while Grey was trying to think kindly of his leaders, the debate staying light and calm.

“
Surely horses had been invented by then?” he replied.

“
Just a few years prior to the Crusades, yes. If your Government or mine or Germaine’s had wanted to they could have given all of you lightweight armour and they did not because of the cost. If another war is declared, which seems quite likely, please consider that before signing up,” Laura said, making a futile attempt to educate him so that when the inevitable World War III broke out he would not be one of the casualties.

“
With my medical records I probably wouldn’t be accepted for active service anyway, but we have discussed it,” he said, looking at Germaine and reaching across to hold her hand, “and if war is declared against Russia I will be going. Any other war, no.”

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I didn’t think you would be fooled by the whole anti-Communist propaganda machine,” Laura said.

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I’m not, most of that is garbage. I trust the people in here,” he said tapping a finger at his temple. “Stalin is not a nice man – to put it mildly – and I’d fight for his people, to help liberate them.”

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That means killing them. Is that such a great help to them? ‘I shot you in the face because I want to help you’,” she said, copying Grey, her impersonation quite accurate.

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I always aim for the heart,” he smirked, correcting her.

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I was taking that into account, because you’ve admitted yourself that you’re not a crack shot.”

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Hopefully it’ll never come to pass because I have responsibilities here,” Grey said.

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Just put your foot down, Germaine, and if that fails give his back a little tap and it’ll probably all fall apart again and he won’t be going anywhere,” Laura joked.

“
James has to do what he thinks is right. Sometimes I wish he didn’t because it puts him in danger, but I’d never change him,” Germaine said tenderly, moving Grey, her devotion impressing Laura.

“
After the war everyone is so fatigued that no one will want to declare war so I’m nigh on certain that I’ll never be a soldier again anyway,” he said reassuringly, opting to change the subject, telling Laura some more about his time in Detroit and about the greatest waitress in the world.

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With the lowest tips in the world,” Germaine added, smiling coyly, embarrassed at his lavish praise.

“
That’s not because of ability, that’s your accent, I’m afraid,” Laura said honestly. “The Americans aren’t universally friendly.”

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Some are, some aren’t,” Germaine said, trying to be fair. She had not expected to encounter any prejudice and had been surprised by how some had treated her, which she downplayed because she did not want to upset James.

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The greatest waitress in the world provided for her layabout husband in Canada,” Grey said to Laura. “If the Canadians didn’t tip well enough I’ll join you in condemning them, but let’s not start blaming the Yanks again because this time we’re innocent.”

“
I forgot that the gang warfare was up North. Maybe that’s down to them being tight then, Germaine, that probably wasn’t your accent. They’re your lot, up there.”

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Not at all,” Germaine said emphatically.

“
We never explored French Canada. An adventure for another time for the three of us. Four if you want to come and be our babysitter. Come on then, Laura, what grievances have you got with my fellow countrymen?”

“
How long have you got?” Laura joked.

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Look, you had your moment as kings of the world. Don’t blame us because we’ve overtaken you. You’re still hanging onto some colonies by your fingertips.”

“
I think I may sign up for Team Russia!”

“
Okay, I’ll backtrack. Us Americans are a completely mixed bag. Each state is like a separate country, and there’s good and bad. I think most of us are welcoming though and if they’re not they damned well should be, because most of us can trace back our family to how we got over here and from where. Bar the Red Indians of course who maybe are entitled to not be so welcoming but the rest of us should welcome any travellers and immigrants or go back where we came from,” he said passionately, finding intolerance, especially intolerance towards his wife, infuriating.

“
I actually find them friendly too, James, and again, that’s because of accents. The number of people who’ve commented on my accent when I’m trying to go about my business of buying a train ticket or some food has surprised me. They’re complimentary, as though how I speak is some sort of achievement which merits praise,” Laura said.

“
I wouldn’t mind that,” Germaine said quietly.

“
Your accent is beautiful. As for you though,” he said, looking at Laura, “Your Geordie accent gets on my nerves. Is that better?”

“
No, and I am not a Geordie! I fail to understand how it’s ever pertinent. I don’t mind someone asking me where I come from – that’s just being sociable and friendly. It is when they grade my accent that it irritates me. A stranger on a train likes my accent – am I supposed to dance from carriage to carriage in ecstatic rapture?”

A few minutes later the waiter came to take their dessert order and asked Laura where she came from and told her that she had a beautiful accent. Grey and Germaine repressed their laughter until he had moved away from them. “It’s praise, Laura, “ Grey said, wiping his eyes. “Maybe you’re bored with hearing it…”