Soldier's Daughters

by Fiona Field

  Maddy didn’t contradict her, even though she thought the army’s social life could be bloody good fun.

  ‘What about you?’ Jenna asked.

  Maddy shrugged. ‘Nothing much to tell. I thought about trying to find a job here but then… well, I’m pregnant again.’

  ‘Blimey,’ said Jenna. ‘You’re not wasting any time are you? How old is Nathan?’

  ‘He’ll be almost eighteen months when the baby arrives.’

  ‘Good luck. And you’re going to need it. Bloody hell, two under two.’

  That wasn’t what she wanted to hear, thought Maddy disconsolately. She sipped at the froth on the top of her drink. ‘Do you still do hair?’

  Jenna nodded. ‘Not that I work in a salon. That bitch Zoë wouldn’t give me a reference and anyway there doesn’t seem to be anything going in that line around here. I still work from home when any business comes my way.’

  Maddy’s eyebrows shot up. She knew the chaos caused by Jenna’s last foray into working from home.

  Jenna rolled her eyes. ‘I haven’t done any alterations to my new place. Not that it’d matter as Dan and I don’t live in a quarter. Thank God,’ she added with feeling. ‘I’ve had enough of the army ordering me around. Just as well really when you think about it. Can you imagine what my life would have been like if I lived on the patch when all my old neighbours pitched up?’

  Maddy thought she could. The furore that had been caused by Jenna’s behaviour back when she’d been married to Private Perkins had been the talk of the patch for weeks and weeks. Maddy could imagine the reception Jenna would get if she showed her face around the 1 Herts’ wives again.

  ‘Your hair needs doing,’ said Jenna, changing the subject. ‘If you don’t mind me saying so, Maddy, it looks like shit.’

  Maddy smiled. ‘Get off the fence and say what you really mean.’

  ‘Well, it does,’ said Jenna, unrepentant. ‘I’m not being mean, but it is in serious need of a bloody good cut. I’ll do it for you, if you’d like. I haven’t forgotten that you were kind to me when all the other wives were ganging up against me.’

  Maddy shrugged. ‘I didn’t do much.’

  ‘Maybe not, but it was more than anyone else did. And you didn’t have to. I didn’t deserve anything – not after what I did.’

  ‘You didn’t do anything so terribly dreadful. What you did wasn’t a crime or anything.’

  ‘That’s not how the other wives saw it. I mean,’ said Jenna, ‘it’s not like I’m the first person ever to have a bit of a fling. I read somewhere the other day that almost every married person has at some stage. And I heard on the grapevine that Lee’s happier with his new wife.’ Jenna laughed and flicked her hair over her shoulder. ‘I probably did him a good turn in the long run. Anyway, how about I do your hair for you? As a favour, for old times’ sake.’

  ‘Would you?’ Maddy felt pathetically grateful for the offer. And maybe a smart cut would give her some of her old mojo back.

  ‘’Course. Only would you mind coming to mine? I don’t think I can face running into any of my other old customers. I don’t want to have my past raked up again. It was bad enough what happened the first time round.’

  For all Jenna’s outward brash devil-may-care attitude, Maddy reckoned it was a front and underneath she was just as vulnerable as everyone else.

  Sam was slowly working her way through the list of soldiers in her Light Aid Detachment. She’d interviewed more than half and now it was the turn of Sergeant Armstrong. He came into her office looking slightly wary. ‘Sit down, do,’ she said as he stood in the doorway and saluted her. ‘And take your beret off.’ Sam gave the senior NCO a smile to put him at his ease as she watched him pull the chair towards him and sit down. ‘So, tell me a bit about yourself.’

  ‘Like what, ma’am?’

  ‘Like what motivated you to join the army. Like where you would like to be in ten years’ time.’ She smiled again. ‘That sort of thing.’

  Dan Armstrong blew his cheeks out. ‘I joined because employment prospects around where I lived were shit… sorry, ma’am… rubbish. I got into the apprentice college and I’ve never looked back. The life is all right, the pay is decent and I’ve got to see a bit of the world. And in ten years’ time I rather hope I might be an ASM like Mr Williams.’

  ‘No reason why you shouldn’t. I’ve had a look at your records and you’ve got the skills and most of the qualifications. You just need to keep going as you are.’

  Armstrong nodded. ‘I’m hoping that other business…’

  Sam shook her head. ‘Other business?’

  ‘Come off it, ma’am. The ASM will have told you about what happened at my last posting.’

  ‘Oh, that.’

  ‘Yes, that. I’m hoping that won’t scupper my chances.’

  ‘Why should it? It doesn’t make you a bad engineer all of a sudden.’

  ‘I thought the army took a dim view of behaviour like that.’

  ‘Well, it doesn’t encourage it but as long as you don’t make a habit of it…’

  ‘I’m not planning to, no. Jenna – that’s my partner – she’s a clever lass. She’s the one for me, she’ll keep me on the straight and narrow now.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it. Does she have a career?’

  ‘She’s a hairdresser. A good one. She once worked for Marky Markham.’ There was real pride in Armstrong’s voice.

  ‘Really?’ Even Sam was impressed. ‘Which salon does she work in?’

  ‘She works from home. I’ll give you her number if you’d like.’

  ‘Actually, I’d really like that. I need to get a trim. Thanks.’ Sam pushed a pad of paper and a pencil across to Armstrong and he scribbled the number down. ‘Now, anything you want to ask me before you go?’

  Armstrong shook his head.

  ‘I mean what I say about my door always being open. Any worries about your career or anything like that, it’s my job to help you as best as I can.’ Although Sam knew that a guy, several years her senior, would probably go to almost anyone in the battalion before he asked a woman for advice.

  After Sergeant Armstrong left she made a couple of notes on his file and then took the next one off the pile. Blake. But the phone rang at that point and there was a problem on the workshop floor with a vehicle repair; by the time everything had been resolved it was almost time for the troops to go off and get their evening meal. Blake would have to wait.

  6

  Michelle stared around the anteroom of the officers’ mess at Pirbright. Honestly, she thought, there were probably morgues with more life in them. The silence was oppressive. Even the faint chink of teaspoons in post-lunch cups of coffee, or the rustle of newspapers, seemed intrusive and loud. Sandhurst had been full of life and chatter and laughter, and the mess at Winchester, where she’d done her junior officers’ course, had been fun and lively, but this…

  She got up and left the room. As she reached the door she noticed that no one had looked up from their paper. Perversely, she wanted to do something loud and disruptive; strip off her uniform top, or shout Long live the revolution, or dance on a table. That’d shake up the place. But instead she went to her room, switched on Radio 1 and turned the volume up as loud as she dared. The more senior officers lived on the floor above and they complained and handed out extras at the least excuse – as Michelle had already discovered.

  Two years of this, she thought. How was she going to bear it? She felt insanely envious of Sam and her posting to an infantry regiment. All those hunky young subalterns to knock around with. And what did she have here? A whole heap of passed-over majors, time-serving till their pensions kicked in, with no sense of humour, who found endless fault in the junior officers who were, themselves, cowed into submission.

  She flopped onto her bed and stared at the ceiling. Surely there had to be more to life that what she had right now? Surely there had to be some way of shaking up this joint? Maybe she’d ring Sam and see if she fancied coming do
wn to Surrey and helping her do a bit of hell-raising. It seemed to Michelle that all her contemporaries in the mess were so wet they needed to be wrung out – or was that just because all the old fogeys had made them that way? She pulled her phone out of her pocket and pressed the buttons to get Sam.

  ‘Hiya, hon,’ she said when Sam picked up. ‘I can’t tell you how envious of you I am right now.’

  ‘Of me?’ replied Sam.

  ‘Of course. It’s beyond dreary here, the job sucks, the pressure is insane, the mess is dead and at weekends it’s empty. So, come on, tell me, what are all those fit young men like?’

  A heavy sigh breezed over the airwaves. ‘I don’t know. They barely talk to me.’

  ‘You what?’

  ‘You heard. I’ve kind of given up and I spend half my free time in my room. Over and above that my ASM hates me and I’m beginning to have real doubts as to whether I’m cut out for this.’

  ‘No-o-o… but you’re the perfect officer. Shit, if anyone is destined to whoosh up the ranks it’s you. Why the self-doubt?’

  ‘I dunno. Maybe it’s just a bad patch. Maybe I need to man up, get used to it.’ There was another sigh.

  ‘That’s it, then, we need to get together. You need to get your butt down to Surrey. We need to have a weekend on the lash, go clubbing, experience hangovers again, what do you say?’

  ‘God, yes, Michelle. Yes! When?’

  ‘Well, not this weekend, I’m on duty, but maybe one soon.’

  ‘You got spammed for a weekend duty early. You’ve only just arrived there.’

  ‘Sort of. I picked up an extra or two.’

  ‘Michelle!’

  ‘I was late on parade. My alarm didn’t go off.’

  ‘Oh, Michelle. You are a numpty.’

  ‘Never mind. I’ll ring next week. We can firm up some proper plans.’

  ‘Brilliant.’

  ‘Hello, Sam.’

  Sam put down the copy of The Times she was reading while enjoying a quiet post-work cup of tea in the mess anteroom. As she looked up she saw James Rosser, one of the platoon commanders of 1 Herts. ‘Hello, James.’

  ‘Mind if I join you?’

  Sam glanced around the anteroom of the mess. The groups of armchairs gathered around low coffee tables were mostly unoccupied. There were a couple of the other platoon commanders across the room, reading the papers, but the majority of the livers-in had already downed a swift cuppa and shot off to their rooms to grab a bag, before racing off for the weekend. The mess this weekend, like the last one, was going to be very quiet.

  ‘Please do,’ she said. ‘But don’t feel you have to keep me company if you’ve got something you’d rather do.’ She quite liked James. He seemed very old-fashioned, which was faintly endearing, and even more endearing, in Sam’s opinion, was his distinct resemblance to a young Hugh Grant, complete with floppy fringe, smiley blue eyes and slightly diffident and shy manner.

  James gave her a lopsided grin and put his own cup of tea down on the table before he slumped into the chair opposite her. ‘Like my laundry, you mean?’

  ‘Hey, for all I know, you might think that ironing is the best fun you can have with your clothes on.’

  ‘As long as you don’t iron your clothes while you are wearing them.’

  ‘Ouch, no. As the battalion health and safety officer I would have to advise against that.’

  ‘You’re all right, that’s not something I indulge in.’ James took a gulp of tea. ‘You going away for the weekend?’

  Sam shook her head. ‘Nope. You?’

  ‘Duty officer.’

  ‘Ah, hard luck.’

  ‘Only for tonight. I’m free tomorrow.’

  ‘That’s nice.’ Sam picked up the paper, folded it and put it on the table in front of her.

  ‘Sorry,’ said James. ‘I’m disturbing you. You were perfectly happily reading the paper and I come along and interrupt you.’

  ‘No, honestly. I was only glancing at it for want of anything better to do. Really.’ She paused. ‘Do you think anyone would mind if I nicked it and took it to my room?’

  ‘The Times? You’re joking, aren’t you?’ He called across the room to their fellow officers. ‘Hey, Will, Ben, either of you want to fight Sam for The Times?’

  Will waved his copy of the Sun. ‘Not enough pictures for my taste.’

  Ben laughed. ‘I’m with Will.’

  ‘There you go,’ said James. ‘The paper is yours.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘So, you going to spend the evening in your room – like you usually do?’

  Sam shrugged.

  ‘We don’t bite, you know,’ said James.

  Sam looked at her lap. ‘I don’t know… I feel a bit of an interloper. You guys all know each other so well.’

  ‘Well, you won’t get to know us by avoiding us.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I mean, when you did your platoon commander’s course you must have been in a minority.’

  ‘Yes, but that was different.’

  ‘How come?’

  Sam thought about it. ‘I don’t know, it just was. I think the REME are more used to having women around.’

  James laughed. ‘Frankly, there are monasteries more used to having women around than some infantry regiments.’

  Sam laughed.

  ‘Well, how about you don’t disappear tonight after supper?’ said James. ‘Stay and keep me company. I expect Will and Ben’ll bugger off to a pub or something so I’ll be on my tod. I’d appreciate the company. Come on – take a chance.’

  Sam smiled. ‘OK, why not. That’d be nice.’ And she realised it would be. Maybe it was time to try and integrate a little more.

  Maddy put down her toast and marmalade. ‘Seb, darling, could you look after Nathan for a couple of hours this afternoon?’

  Seb sighed, and lowered the paper. ‘Why?’

  Because he’s your son, thought Maddy. ‘Because I want to see if I can get my hair done. I need a cut, badly.’

  ‘Does it have to be today?’

  ‘Why? Have you got plans?’

  ‘But it’s Saturday,’ said Seb. ‘I’ve been working my socks off all week. Aren’t I entitled to a day off?’

  And I’m not, thought Maddy. Obviously housework and childcare don’t count as work. No, she told herself, she was being unfair. She worked nothing like as hard as Seb but she was only asking for a couple of hours of his time. She said as much.

  ‘I was going to go to the gym to do some training. I’ve not had the chance to get a proper workout all week.’

  ‘You’re not planning on working out all day, though, are you? Can’t you go this morning?’

  ‘I suppose. Have you actually made an appointment?’

  ‘Not yet. I was going to ring up on spec.’

  ‘So, you could get it cut next week.’

  ‘Yes, I could, but then I’d have to beg a favour from Susie or pay for childminding.’ Maddy felt exasperated. Was it so much to ask Seb to look after his own son for a few hours? Honestly, it would be easier to get blood out of a stone.

  ‘All right, then,’ said Seb, grudgingly.

  ‘Good,’ said Maddy. She bounced out of the kitchen to find her mobile and ring Jenna before Seb could have second thoughts. And she wasn’t going to tell Seb who she was making an appointment with. She could imagine the row if he found out.

  Sam wandered into the mess dining room, grabbed a paper, which she tucked under her arm, before she poured herself a glass of orange juice and a cup of tea and carried all three over to the huge wide, mahogany dining table. A mess waiter appeared from behind the kitchen door.

  ‘Cooked breakfast, ma’am?’

  ‘Mmm, please. Poached egg, bacon and tomato and some brown toast.’

  ‘Certainly, ma’am.’

  ‘Hello, Sam.’ James bounced in looking remarkably chipper.

  ‘Quiet duty?’

  ‘Mostly. There was a bit of a ruckus down at the soldiers’
bar after you went to bed – but that’s hardly unexpected on a Friday night, it was nothing the regimental police and the duty sergeant couldn’t handle. I almost got my full quota of beauty sleep.’

  ‘Glad to hear it.’

  James grinned as he too got tea and orange and brought it over to the table. ‘Are you implying I need as much as I can get?’

  Sam shrugged and smiled back. ‘If the cap fits.’

  The mess waiter reappeared and took James’s breakfast order. Once he’d asked for a full English ‘with mushrooms if there are any’ he turned back to Sam.

  ‘What are your plans today?’

  ‘Nothing much. I think the main excitement might consist of trying to make an appointment to get my hair cut.’

  ‘Blimey, life in the fast lane.’

  Sam nodded. ‘Oh, yes.’

  ‘Look, yesterday Ben and Will and I made some vague plans about high-tailing it off to the seaside for the day; the forecast is brilliant. Just a drive down to Bournemouth or somewhere like that, a walk along the beach, a fish and chip lunch or maybe a pie and a pint and then back here for tea and medals. How about you join us?’

  ‘You don’t want me along. I’d only cramp your style.’

  ‘In what way? We’re only going to the seaside. We’re not planning on trying our hand at world domination or anything like that.’

  Sam laughed. ‘OK, but only if you think the others won’t mind. And as long as you all promise not to get silly and chivalrous and not let me pay my way.’

  ‘I can only speak for myself but if the other two have bank balances anything like mine you will be perfectly safe in that department.’

  ‘Then it’s a deal.’

  ‘Right, the plan is to meet at ten o’clock in the anteroom.’

  Sam’s breakfast arrived and she tucked in with gusto, feeling ridiculously pleased at the prospect of the day ahead. After she’d finished, she returned to her room to ring Sergeant Armstrong’s partner to make an appointment for the next weekend, sort her kit out for the following week before meeting the others at the agreed time.