First Friends

by Marcia Willett

  But Kate was already tearing away the paper and holding up an exquisitely hand-knitted Aran jersey.

  ‘ ’Tis nothin’.’ Mrs Hampton brushed away Kate’s stammered thanks. ‘I’m always knittin’ somethin’ an’ I know ‘ow you always like to be in those old trousers with a great big woolly. ‘Twill keep you warm up there by the sea.’ She scrubbed away furiously at the spotless sink. ‘Go on, now. Time you were off. Take ’em away or that ‘usband of yours’ll be wonderin’ where you’ve got to. Come on, my lovers, let ‘Ammy put ‘ee in the car.’

  They both stayed to wave goodbye and Kate set out, awash with tears, to drive across her beloved moors on her way to Portsmouth, following Mark who had set out earlier in a hired van with all their possessions.

  PORTSMOUTH WAS A DISASTER from first to last. Neither of them had realised that they must notify the gas and electricity boards to have the supplies connected. The flat was cold and there was no way to heat or cook food. The twins were tired and hungry and Kate, distraught and longing for a cup of tea, finally persuaded the unwilling Mark to go out to buy some sort of camping stove whilst she dealt with the inventory and did her best for the twins with the remains of the picnic. The only other occupant of the building was the wife of a Supply Officer who had come up through the ranks and was, therefore, a Lieutenant like Mark but considerably older. Once Kate had completed the formalities with the representative from the Married Quarters Office and they had jointly inspected every item on the inventory, which took them nearly an hour, this kindly woman invited her in for a cup of tea and was heating some milk for the twins when Kate heard Mark return. She went out into the hall to find him empty-handed and disgruntled.

  ‘It’s early closing day,’ he said resentfully. ‘Everything’s shut.’

  ‘Bad luck.’ Her heart sank at the sight of his face. ‘Would you like a cup of tea? Mrs Richards in there,’ she gestured towards the opposite flat, ‘has just given me one and says you’re very welcome. She’s going to let me use her phone to get onto the gas and electricity people.’

  ‘I don’t want any bloody tea. I’ll get on with the unpacking.’ He managed as usual to convey that everything was her fault.

  Kate settled the twins in their new bedroom with some of the toys that she had unpacked and hurried back across the hall to make her telephone calls, only to discover that neither utility could do anything until the following morning. Realising how much the General had taken on to his shoulders during the move to Devon, she went back to her own flat aware that she should have asked Mark for the moving-in instructions and checked them herself. No point in antagonising him now. She could hear his voice raised angrily as she went through the front door.

  ‘Here we are,’ she said cheerfully, smiling at a tearful Giles and pretending not to see Mark’s cross face. ‘Mrs Richards has given me a big flask of hot milk and another with boiling water. We should be able to manage now.’

  The next few days passed in a muddle of packing away unwanted glass, china and cutlery and unpacking their own belongings. The twins, who missed the freedom of the garden and who were not allowed outside the door without Kate, grizzled. The weather was cold. The flat bleak and depressing. Mark was tired when he arrived home in the evenings from the dockyard and hinted that it would be nice if the twins were in bed by that time so that he could relax. Kate had envisaged happy moments: she and Mark bathing the twins, Mark reading them bedside stories and even playing with them while she prepared supper. She soon found that this was to remain a dream.

  His object was to get home, switch on the television and slump in front of it, moving only to the table to eat his supper, one eye still on the screen. There were no intimate moments, no sharing of household tasks. He remained uninterested in the twins, ignoring them for most of the time and then suddenly playing fast and furious games that tended to end with either Guy or Giles in tears. Then he would get up, shrugging in disgust as if they were spoilt cry babies, unworthy of attention. If Kate took their part, he would look at her with a cynical half smile that made her feel that she was a fussing and overprotective mother. She felt frustrated, disappointed and confused.

  Just after they’d moved in, Cass, about to produce her second child and finding the long journey round to Eastney difficult, bullied Felicity into driving her round.

  ‘Now, you simply must come to Paul and Jenny’s party tomorrow,’ she said as she lay stretched out on Kate’s sofa. ‘They’re dying to see you again. They said to bring the twins and put them upstairs to bed while the party’s on. If they can’t sleep they can play with their two. They’re all about the same age. Or, even better, bring the twins to us first. They can share our baby sitter and you can spend the night. All the gang will be there so do say that you’ll come. Any more coffee?’ She stretched out a languid arm and passed her coffee cup.

  Felicity took it reluctantly and put it on the table. ‘Are you going to be up to it, Cass?’ she asked, falsely solicitous. ‘You look as though you might pop at any moment.’

  ‘Sweet of you to be concerned.’ Cass winked at Kate behind Felicity’s unsuspecting head. ‘Must make an effort, though. There’s a few more days to go yet, you know. Anyway, old Tom loves a jolly and I’ve promised George I’ll be there.’ She watched Felicity stiffen. ‘Isn’t it funny how men find women so sexy when they’re in pig?’

  ‘It’s the first I’ve heard of it.’ Felicity couldn’t quite prevent a certain shrillness from creeping into her voice. ‘Quite the opposite, I should have thought.’

  ‘Oh, no, no,’ Cass protested sleepily. ‘Ask Kate. Men can’t leave you alone. You should try it.’

  Kate poured the last drops from the coffee pot into Cass’s cup, hiding her grin. She knew that Felicity suspected Cass of trying to seduce George, whom she regarded as her own property and with whom she had been having an affair for some months. It was naughty of Cass to tease but Kate could quite see how irresistible it must be. Felicity never failed to rise to the bait like a starving trout.

  ‘I don’t think you’d find my Mark agreeing with you,’ she was saying. ‘We’ve decided—no children! He finds the whole process messy from start to finish and so do I.’

  I should have thought the start . . .’ Cass yawned and snuggled into the old patchwork quilt that Kate kept on the sofa. ‘Oh, well. All I can say is that I had quite a different impression from Mark. Still, you should know him better than I do. Old George just loves it, of course. Keeps cuddling me and putting his hand on my bump to feel the little bugger kicking. Mind you, I don’t have to be preggers for George to fancy me.’

  Felicity, already rankling at Cass’s ‘should,’ looked as if she might implode and Kate took pity on her.

  ‘I’ve got to make some more coffee,’ she said. ‘Charlotte or one of the twins is crying and if you’re feeling well enough to go to a party, Cass, you’re well enough to get off the sofa and go and sort it out!’

  Three days later, Cass was brought to bed with her second child. It was a boy this time, blond, beautiful. Oliver.

  WHEN THEY’D BEEN AT the flat for a month, Mark took a fortnight of overdue leave. Kate cherished great hopes of these two weeks. The weather was kind, warm and spring-like, and they explored the country inland, visited Porchester Castle and went to Winchester.

  On the Wednesday afternoon, Mark received a telegram. It was a message instructing him to contact the Appointer (known colloquially as God since he held all their lives in his hands). When Mark returned from the interview, Kate was sitting at the dressing table drying her hair.

  ‘I’m in the bedroom,’ she called, when she heard him come in. ‘Hello. What was it all about?’ She looked at him through the mirror and then lowered her arms; he looked drawn and preoccupied. She turned on the stool to face him. ‘What’s the matter? What did he say?’ For some reason she felt quite frightened.

  Mark came further into the room. ‘I’ve been pierhead jumped. He’s sending me to another boat as Third Hand. They’ve had a
personality clash and one of the chaps has been taken off which means that they need somebody in a hurry.’

  ‘But why you?’ cried Kate. ‘There must be other people around with the same seniority.’

  ‘Obviously not.’ He didn’t look at her. He could hardly tell her that he was delighted to be going back to sea and had jumped at the chance. ‘I’m on a refit boat. I can be spared more easily and they’re in a fix.’

  Suddenly she knew why he would not look at her. ‘Mark,’ she said, getting up and going to him, ‘does it mean that you’re going back to sea?’

  ‘I’m afraid so.’ He lit a cigarette. ‘I had no choice, you know. I couldn’t just say no.’

  You couldn’t! thought Kate. I bet you didn’t even try! She made a great effort to pull herself together.

  ‘Which boat is it?’ Her heart gave a wild leap upwards. ‘It’s not . . . It couldn’t be based in Devonport, could it?’

  ‘God, no. It’s Oceanus. She’s over in Dolphin.’

  ‘Oh, well.’ Kate sighed. ‘I suppose there’s no point in arguing about it. Let’s just hope that she spends more time alongside than the last one did. How soon do you have to join? At least we’ve got another week of leave.’

  Mark looked at her at last. ‘I’m afraid not. She sails on Monday and we’ll be away for three months.’

  BEFORE MARK WENT TO sea, Kate begged him to find out if there was by any chance a vacant quarter in Alverstoke. It was the Friday morning and they were still at breakfast. They intended to make the most of their last free day—for the weekend would be taken up with washing his kit and packing—by taking a picnic to the New Forest, finishing up with tea at Lymington.

  ‘You could dash out and telephone the Married Quarters Officer or we could pop into the office on our way to the New Forest.’

  ‘We’ve got a quarter,’ said Mark, eating his eggs and bacon. ‘They won’t give us another one.’

  ‘But it’s in the wrong place,’ cried Kate as she cut up Giles’ bacon. ‘It’ll be hell being on opposite sides of the harbour. How will you get to and fro when the boat’s in? You’ll have to catch the ferry from Dolphin to Vernon, obviously, but I’ll never know which one you’ll be on.’

  ‘That’s easy. You’ll have to go out to the telephone box and phone the boat every afternoon.’

  ‘Are you kidding? You should try it. First of all, the dockyard exchange is engaged for twenty minutes. Then you get through and the boat’s engaged. And when you finally get through to the boat they tell you that the person you want is ashore—not even on board—and suggest you try again in half an hour! And, don’t forget, I have to drag the twins out with me every time.’

  ‘Well, you’ll have to put up with it. Oh, for heaven’s sake! Guy’s dropping egg everywhere. Can’t you do something, Kate? Having breakfast with these two is enough to ruin anybody’s appetite.’

  ‘That’s Giles,’ said Kate quietly, ‘and you could try to remember that they’re only two years old.’

  ‘Yes, well. You know my views about that. I see no point to children until they’re old enough to hold an intelligent conversation.’

  ‘Then let’s hope,’ said Kate, ‘that when that time finally arrives, they feel you’re worth talking to.’ She glanced at him. His face was bleak and closed and his eyelids drooped a little over his cold grey gaze. She felt a tiny flicker of fear.

  ‘I’ve just seen the solution to your problem,’ he said softly. ‘Obviously, when the boat isn’t in, transport isn’t a problem. When it is in, I shall take the car. I’ll drive round to Dolphin. It means that you’ll have to do without it, of course. What a pity. Never mind. You managed without a car before and I’m sure you’ll manage again.’ He pushed back his chair and stood up. ‘I’ve just remembered, I’m going to have to go out. Don’t know how long I’ll be. I’m afraid our day in the New Forest will have to wait!’ He went out.

  The twins looked at her expectantly.

  ‘Daddy gone!’ said Giles cheerfully. He always seemed happier when this was the case.

  ‘Very true,’ agreed Kate, trying to beat down the anger which she knew would frighten Giles who was very sensitive to the moods of those about him. She managed a smile. ‘Eat up and then we’ll go down to the beach.’

  AFTER OLIVER WAS BORN, Cass returned to the fray, more beautiful and vivacious than ever. She obviously adored the child and, when people commented on his likeness to her and the complete absence of any of Tom’s characteristics, she would smile.

  ‘One each,’ she’d say. ‘Charlotte’s all Tom and Oliver’s all me.’

  This was true. Even from day one, Oliver seemed to have his hands on all the ropes, avoiding all the traumas of babyhood and moving smoothly from one phase to the next. As for Cass, she realised that motherhood in no way impaired her charms or clipped her wings. She smiled to herself when she thought of Tom, who was fairly confident that she was now safely removed from the dangers of the hunting male. She often wondered if he was faithful to her. He would sometimes return from sea with some new technique or idea to be tried out in bed and Cass would wonder who had taught it to him. There were always plenty of girls around when submarines went on visits. The host town wanted to give the Navy a good time and there would be parties on board and in people’s homes and plenty of opportunities for extramarital fun.

  Once, after a particularly exciting session in bed, Cass had challenged him but Tom merely said that he’d been reading somebody’s Playboy—an article on how to keep your sex life new and exciting. Cass had laughed and told him she was all for it and when Tom, in an ecstasy of gratitude, had risen from the bed and insisted on taking her out to dinner, she was even more amused.

  She didn’t even have sibling jealousy to contend with. Charlotte was very proud of her new brother and would bring him little presents or hug him warmly.

  ‘You are lucky,’ said Kate looking enviously at Oliver. ‘I’d love another one but Mark won’t hear of it. Says two are quite enough. Shall you have any more?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said Cass at once. ‘Four at least, I think. Such fun, isn’t it? And people make a fuss of you and dear old Tom gets so pleased with himself. Odd, that, isn’t it? After all, animals are doing it all the time, and people of course, but Tom thinks it’s a great achievement. Do you like Mark II?’

  ‘Not much. And I have to say that I think it’s too bad of you to make such passes at him.’

  Cass burst out laughing. ‘Don’t look so po-faced. It doesn’t suit you. You’re thinking of that party last week on the Norwegian boat.’

  ‘Yes, I am. You were all over each other and Felicity was nearly out of her mind.’

  ‘She had George dancing attendance. Parties on submarines are so boring. Dancing round and round the dreary old periscope or being squashed into the Wardroom and having to go to the loo in those ghastly little holes that they call, for some reason, “heads.” And that awful pong of diesel! I had to do something to liven it up a bit. Kate, why don’t you just forget to take the pill?’

  Kate stared at her blankly.

  ‘If you want another baby!’ said Cass impatiently. ‘It’s your life, too. If you want one, have one. Get pregnant before he goes to sea next time and don’t tell him before he’s well away, when it’s much too late.’

  ‘Too late for what?’

  ‘An abortion. You don’t think he’d let you keep it, do you, after he’d said no?’

  ‘I’d never have an abortion!’

  ‘No? Not even if Mark insisted?’ Cass gave Kate a strange look. ‘Shall I tell you something? Your Mark is the only man I’ve ever known who makes me feel afraid.’

  ‘No, no!’ This was something Kate was not yet prepared to admit, even to herself. ‘He’s just . . . It’s really . . . ’

  ‘Well, it’s an idea. That is, if you’re really desperate to have another one. Listen. I’ve got a bottle in the fridge. Why don’t we get pissed?’

  IF IT HAD BEEN left to Mark they would have continued
to live at Eastney, with Kate and the twins more cut off from all the social life that was attached to the submarine as well as that relating to Dolphin itself.

  Once the boat had sailed, Kate enlisted the help of the naval grapevine and sat back to await results. It was a fairly quiet three months. On sunny days she would pile the twins in the car and drive round to Alverstoke. She and Cass would sit in the little garden or take the children to the beach; Oliver lying in his pram, shaded by a parasol, whilst Charlotte and the twins would play quite happily together, building sand castles and making roads on which to run the twins’ toy cars. The girls would lie on the sun-warmed rug, drowsing and making desultory conversation.

  ‘Perhaps,’ Kate said on one such afternoon, ‘perhaps Charlotte will marry one of the twins when she grows up.’

  ‘Mmmmm.’

  ‘Which one, do you think?’

  ‘Oh, I think Giles. She likes Giles best.’

  ‘Do you think so? She’s such a sweetie. I’d love a little girl.’

  ‘Mmmmm.’

  ‘What do you want, next time, Cass?’

  ‘I shall have another boy. But just like Tom.’

  ‘How can you be so sure?’

  ‘I just can. Be a duck and get the picnic out. I’m dying of thirst.’

  Quiet, happy, peaceful days that women share when their children are very young.

  Seven

  Oddly, it was Felicity who found the little house in Solent Way. It belonged to a naval couple who were being sent to Singapore and they were more than happy to let it to another naval couple. The system was that if there were no married quarters in the area to which a naval officer was posted, the Navy would give an allowance towards rented accommodation. If it were more expensive, as it invariably was, the difference had to come out of his pay. Felicity had sung Kate’s praises to the couple with whom she had become very friendly and they were prepared to be as helpful as possible over the rent, relieved to have a reliable tenant and confident that Kate would be prepared to move out should they need to come back unexpectedly.