Civvy Street (27 page)

She got up from the table, fished some spuds out of the veg rack and set about peeling them. She’d just run the water into the sink and picked up the peeler when the phone rang.

‘Hello?’

‘It’s me,’ said Mike. ‘Just ringing to say I’m probably going to be late.’

‘I’m sorry.’

She heard him sigh. ‘That meeting I had went on longer than I expected so I’ve only just got back to the office and I have to write up my notes before I leave.’

‘Can’t you do it at home?’

‘No, I need some files here. How did
your
meeting go?’

Susie groaned. ‘Don’t ask.’

‘That bad?’

‘Worse. And now I’ve just had a row with the girls.’

‘Welcome to the club.’

‘Only this time it was them who stormed out of the house, not one of their parents.’

‘Hey.’

‘Sorry...’

‘Where’ve they gone?’

‘I don’t know. It can’t be far and it isn’t as if it’s late. I’ll get supper on then go to look for them.’

‘Hmm. Don’t leave it too late, it’ll be dark soon.’

‘I expect they’ll be at the bus shelter or somewhere like that.’

‘OK – but even so...’

‘Mike, they’re together, they’re twelve and it’s still afternoon. You wouldn’t have worried about them on the patch.’

‘Exactly – but this isn’t the patch.’

Mike’s words stuck in Susie’s brain for a while after she put the phone down and when she’d finished the potatoes she put them in a pan of water, grabbed her keys and coat and headed out of the front door herself. She took a punt on them going to the end of their road and down the hill towards the village. As she neared the junction she heard laughter. She listened. Laughter and voices. She stopped walking and listened even more intently. Yes, she could hear Katie and Ella’s voices but she couldn’t make out what they were saying although it was clear that they weren’t alone and they seemed fairly relaxed. That was something to be grateful for. Maybe they did have some friends in the area and her interview with Mr Rogers had been unnecessary. She headed back to the house feeling happier; they hadn’t gone far and they were with friends. She could get on with supper. If they weren’t home by the time supper was ready she’d go out and call them in.

Half an hour later that front door banged open.

‘Katie, Ella?’ she called from the kitchen.

Footsteps thumped up the stairs. Two pairs. They were both in, good.

Susie went into the hall. ‘Katie, Ella?’ But still silence.

She followed them upstairs. ‘Katie...? Ella...?’ she called tentatively. The last thing she wanted to do was spark another row.

‘Yeah? What do you want?’ said Katie from her room.

‘I just wanted to tell you that supper’ll be about fifteen minutes.’

‘Whatevs.’

Susie didn’t rise to the bait and tell them she’d rather they said ‘Thank you, Mum.’ Pick your battles, she told herself.

When the girls came down to eat she noticed they’d changed out of their school uniforms. Odd, they didn’t usually bother, but she didn’t comment: to ask was to risk another altercation. The meal was a fairly silent affair. Susie thought about asking them where they’d been but she knew she’d only get accused of prying and she certainly couldn’t ask who they’d met. The girls uttered a couple of things like ‘pass the salt’ and then, as soon as they’d finished, they shot back up to their rooms. Morosely, Susie cleared up their plates, dished up Mike’s meal and covered it in cling film ready for his return, and then loaded the dishwasher.

At least, she thought, being able to tell Mike that the girls seemed to be, at last, making some friends, would counter the dismal interview with Mr Rogers. Maybe there was light at the end of the tunnel.

As October headed towards Hallowe’en and then bonfire night, the weather took a turn for the worse and refused to budge. It seemed to rain almost every day; not in great cloudbursts, like the one in the summer, but constant, dreary drizzle, falling from leaden skies. Even when it wasn’t raining the air was cold and damp and the sun rarely, if ever, seemed to shine. It was dispiriting and depressing and everyone began to feel beaten down by the dreariness of it all. Caro found the kids in the crèche cranky and difficult, the bookings in Jenna’s hairdressing salon took a dive, but Jenna couldn’t be sure if that was down to the weather or because the wives had worked out about her past, and Maddy, trapped indoors with two small children, began to go stir-crazy. Morale everywhere in the 1 Herts barracks appeared to be at a low ebb and, lately, even the normally buzzing coffee shop in the community centre had been pretty quiet. In fact, because the takings had dropped, Camilla had demanded a meeting with Maddy at the shop to discuss its viability.

‘Just what I need,’ she muttered to Seb over breakfast. ‘A morning with bloody Camilla.’

‘It’s not like you’ve got much else to do,’ said Seb.

Maddy glared at him. ‘Like that’s my fault. You try to keep a career going with two small children in tow and three house-moves in as many years.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Seb. ‘I didn’t mean it like that.’

‘You’d better not have done.’

‘I just meant that...’ He stopped. ‘I’m in a hole, aren’t I?’

‘And I’d stop digging if I were you.’ She glowered at him. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t be so tetchy but the prospect of being patronised by Camilla for an hour or so is more than flesh and blood can stand.’

‘I sympathise. I’ve got a meeting with her husband again.’

‘About the mess?’

‘I should imagine so. And I think I’m going to have to either stand up to him and refuse to carry out his plans, or tell him he’s got to involve all the members. He and I can’t act unilaterally in this matter.’

Maddy stared at Seb. ‘I don’t envy you that.’

‘No. So, I think today is going to be the Fanshaws versus the Rayners.’

Maddy sighed and pulled a face. ‘And I think I can guess which team will come off worst. Let’s just hope we don’t get completely thrashed by them.’

‘Let’s just hope I still have a career at the end of the day.’

‘On the positive side, when I asked Caro if she could take Rose for me at the crèche, she managed to find a space.’

‘That’s a step forward.’

Maddy nodded. ‘We’re still not back where we were but...’ She shrugged. ‘Hey, I think solving that little problem is going to take a bit of time.’

But, she thought, her problems were nothing compared to Susie’s, although if she and Seb both fell out with the Rayners, they might move easily into Susie’s league. She hoped not. The last thing she wanted to do right now was join Susie on Civvy Street – or Springhill Road.

If it weren’t for the fact that she was meeting Camilla, Maddy would have looked forward to the excuse of having a coffee and cake at the café – a bit of a treat. Oh well, she thought as she made her way to the coffee shop having dropped off Rose, she couldn’t have everything.

‘Hello, Maddy.’

Oh God, thought Maddy. Bloody Camilla was early. That was all she needed.

‘Hello, Camilla,’ she said, trying to sound welcoming. ‘Let me get you a coffee.’

‘Lovely. Black, no sugar.’

‘And something to eat?’

‘Oh, I don’t think so, but thank you.’

Was it Maddy’s imagination or did she look at Maddy’s hips?

Maddy fetched the drink and then settled down at the table. An hour later, after a guided tour of all the community centre had to offer, meeting Jenna, Caro and the ladies who ran the coffee shop, Maddy had persuaded Camilla that the place wasn’t about to bankrupt the battalion, that it was being run as efficiently as was humanly possible and that judging its performance after a paltry three months was hardly fair.

‘If you say so,’ she’d finally and grudgingly agreed. ‘Now, I think we need to have a little chat.’ Camilla looked about her. ‘But not here. Maybe we could go over to The Residence?’

Come into my parlour, said the spider to the fly...
Maddy felt uneasy. ‘If you wish. But I won’t be able to stay long. I’ve got to pick up Nathan from playgroup in about forty minutes.’

‘I don’t think you need worry about the time. This won’t take long.’

Maddy felt really apprehensive now. Unhappily she trailed after Camilla and down the road to the CO’s residence. Of course, until the Rayners had moved in, the house had just been 33 Arnhem Avenue. It was just a matter of days after their arrival that it had been redesignated Hertfordshire House and referred to by them, but no one else, as The Residence. For a few days it had seemed amusingly pretentious – little had they all known that it was a first indication of how much the Rayners wanted to put their stamp on the regiment, turn the battalion into their own personal fiefdom. Maddy might have felt anxious about this summons to a private interview but she was also curious as this was going to be the first time she’d been invited inside Camilla’s quarter. As yet, she’d never stepped over the threshold – not sufficiently worthy, she imagined.

Camilla opened the door and ushered Maddy in. The house smelt of lilies and furniture polish, which reminded Maddy of visiting the undertaker, years back, when a maiden aunt had died. She’d thought the smell creepy and cloying back then. But the smell of flowers and polish was about the only traditional thing in the Rayners’ quarter. Maddy clocked the modern art on the walls, the objets d’art on the floating, asymmetric shelves and the garish rugs covering up the drab issue carpet. It was striking – if you liked that sort of decor, which Maddy, frankly, didn’t.

Camilla opened the door to the drawing room and beckoned Maddy to follow.

‘Take a seat, Maddy.’

Maddy perched on the edge of a modern designer sofa – all geometric shapes and corners and, she decided as she sat down, as uncomfortable as it looked. The other chairs didn’t look much better and the whole room, with its stripes and angles and bold, clashing colours, made Maddy think she’d been sucked into a Bridget Riley painting.

‘I’ll come to the point, Maddy,’ said Camilla sitting on a hideous, lime-green bucket chair.

‘Please do,’ she murmured.

‘As we both know, women can have a great deal of influence on their husbands. A word here, a hint there...’ She smiled but there was no friendliness in it.

Maddy didn’t say a word. She thought she knew what was coming.

‘Now, Seb has been asked on a number of occasions, by Jack, to work out a strategy to update the officers’ mess. You should be aware of this because Jack told Seb he could talk to you about it, and, let’s face it, husbands tend to tell their wives about the important things going on in their lives.’ She smiled archly. ‘Pillow talk.’

Maddy shuddered inwardly.

‘However, nothing much seems to be happening on that front and Jack is getting very frustrated. Maddy, you must understand Jack’s point of view; that the army is a twenty-first century organisation and yet we seem to insist on surrounding ourselves with nineteenth century trappings. I am sure you agree with me and Jack that the mess is more of a museum piece than a living space.’ Camilla smiled her winsome smile at Maddy, who felt her gorge rise.

She took a deep breath. ‘Actually, I rather like it as it is. Very country house hotel.’

‘I think,’ said Camilla, a little steel in her voice, ‘the look I would prefer is
boutique
hotel –
modern
boutique hotel. The Downton Abbey look is so passé, don’t you think?’

‘Not at Highclere House it isn’t,’ muttered Maddy.

Camilla glared at Maddy. ‘I don’t think you quite understand, Maddy. Jack wants things to change and I agree with him. So... as Seb seems to be dragging his feet, I’d like you to persuade him that, in all our best interests, he does what Jack has asked him to do. I’m sure you get my drift.’

Maddy certainly did. Shape up or ship out. Maddy knew that Jack Rayner wouldn’t be able to get rid of Seb from the army but he could get rid of him from his battalion and how would that play with Seb’s future career? For a start he’d probably be posted without his acting rank of major and the pay drop would come as a blow. He and Maddy had got used to the extra bunce in his pay packet at the end of the month and losing it would be tough.

On the other hand, was the money worth being threatened by Jack and his obnoxious wife? Maddy thought not. Besides, she wasn’t in the army. She didn’t have to toe the line, obey Queen’s Regulations, or kowtow to the CO and she wasn’t about to start now.

‘I’m sorry, Camilla. I don’t know how
your
marriage works but Seb is very much his own man and I don’t burden him with the day-to-day running of the house and in turn he doesn’t burden me with the day-to-day machinations of his job. I hardly know anything about your plans for the mess – apart from what you’ve just told me now,’ she lied, and pretty fluently at that, she thought, ‘and with two small children I haven’t the time or the energy to take on any sort of project you may have in that regard. If you and Jack want to ruin a beautiful building with some fashion statement that will probably be out of date before the paint is dry then I suggest you sort it yourselves.’ She stood up. ‘Now, if that is everything, I have to collect my children.’

Without waiting for Camilla to show her out, Maddy left. As she shut the front door behind her she leaned against the porch. Her legs were shaking so much she thought they might collapse under her. What had she done? Dear God, of all the people to pick a fight with, Camilla was not the one to choose.

When Seb got home for his lunch, Maddy still felt sick with nerves at what damage she might have done to his career.

‘Hi, sweetie,’ he said, giving her a peck on the cheek as he came into the kitchen. ‘You all right? You look a bit peaky,’ he added as he ruffled Nathan’s hair and brushed Rose’s cheek.

‘Seb, I’ve got a confession to make.’ She stopped stirring the chicken soup on the hob and turned to face him.

‘Oh yes. What have you done? Embezzled the flower arranging fund?’

‘Worse than that. I told Camilla to fu— I told Camilla where to shove her ideas for the mess.’

Seb’s mouth twitched. ‘Really?’