Civvy Street (29 page)

Ella shook her head. ‘Like who?’

‘Maybe we could ask a sixth former. We know there’s a bunch who head off into town every lunchtime who light up when they get to the path across the rec. Maybe if we offered them a bribe...’

‘Using what?’

‘Money, of course, stupid,’ said Katie.

Ella shook her head. ‘Like we get enough pocket money to do that.’

‘No, we don’t. But Mum’s always leaving her bag lying around and I bet, half the time, she hasn’t a clue how much she’s got in it. You know as well as I do she just goes to the cash point whenever she gets a bit short. Come on, she won’t miss it. And think what we’re saving them now we’re not at Browndown. They owe us the odd quid for that, at the very least.’

Ella didn’t look completely convinced.

‘You got a better plan?’ said Katie. ‘Anyway, I think Ali really likes us. We don’t want to look like lame losers in front of him so we’ve got to.’

‘I suppose.’

Katie narrowed her eyes. ‘We can’t back out now. Not without looking like mongs.’

Ella nodded.

‘Anyway,’ continued Katie. ‘If Ali thinks we’re cool, the other kids might leave us alone.’

They heard their dad come in and call hello. Then they heard him come upstairs and go to the loo and then clean his teeth, like he did most nights.

A couple of minutes later he clattered downstairs and they heard him and their mum chatting in the kitchen and then they were called to the table.

They took their places opposite each other and their father looked from one to the other. Their mother dished up shepherd’s pie and told them to help themselves to the peas from the dish in the centre.

‘Have you two been smoking?’

Katie felt her face flare but Ella, as cool as anything said, ‘God, no, Dad. Whatever gave you that idea?’

‘I can smell it on you.’

‘Really?’ said Ella. In an exaggerated way she pulled the hood of her sweatshirt round to her nose and sniffed it. ‘I can’t smell anything. It must be ’cos we went to see Ali, from school. His mum and dad smoke.’

There was a snort from their mother. ‘I’m surprised the sort of people who live on this estate can afford to.’

‘People like us, Mum?’ said Katie forking some mince into her mouth.

‘Don’t be cheeky. You know exactly what I mean. And anyway, I thought this Ali person was a girl.’

‘No, Alastair.’

Their mother narrowed her eyes. ‘I’m not quite sure I want you hanging around with boys.’

Katie slumped in her chair and chucked her fork onto her plate. ‘What do you think we do at that crappy school you sent us to? Half the kids are
boys
, half the kids on the bus home are
boys
. What do you want us to do? Burka up?’

‘That’s enough,’ roared their father.

The girls exchanged a look.

Katie stood up. ‘I’m not hungry.’ She left the kitchen followed by her sister and together they stormed back to Katie’s room.

‘That settles it,’ said Katie. ‘Next time Mum leaves her bag lying around I’m going to pinch a tenner. That’ll pay her back for letting Dad have another go at us.’

‘OK,’ said Seb, as he dropped his briefcase by the front door and took off his beret, ‘who did you tell?’ He shook the worst of the rain off his combat jacket and hung it on a peg.

‘Tell what?’ said Maddy indignantly. She put down the slice of bread she was about to butter.

Seb sighed. ‘About Rayner’s plan for the mess.’

‘Oh, that. Just Caro.’

‘But I told you not to tell
anyone
. It was one thing telling Camilla that you wouldn’t twist my arm to rip out the existing decor; it’s another thing entirely passing on stuff that I told you wasn’t for general publication. And telling Caro is like taking out a double page ad in the local paper.’

‘Look, she asked why Camilla was trying to find people to take over from me on her blasted committees... what was I supposed to say? Besides, does it matter any more? We’ve both told them we’re not having anything to do with their mad scheme and even madder ideas about interior design so, presumably, it’s all dead in the water anyway.’ Maddy went back to buttering bread.

Seb shrugged. ‘We can but hope. However, it’s the talk of the mess and the fact that it’s now common knowledge is bound to get back to him. I popped across there this morning and got waylaid by two of the residents and got given the third degree. I know no one talks to Rayner if they can help it, but even he is going to get wind of the mood amongst the mess members.’

‘You can’t blame them. What Jack Rayner wants to do to the place is monstrous.’

‘Indeed, but he is the CO here and as such if he wants to run things differently from the way they have been in the past, as long as he doesn’t break the law, he can.’

‘He can, if he doesn’t piss everyone off. And let’s face it, that’s exactly what he and Camilla seem to be doing. No wonder everyone is up in arms.’

‘By the way, in other news, he’s called a snap exercise. We’re all off to play on Salisbury Plain next week.’

Maddy frowned. ‘How long for?’

‘Monday to Friday. We’re deploying first thing Monday morning and should be back in barracks sometime after lunch on the Friday.’

‘And what’s this in aid of?’

‘Rayner’s idea of keeping us on our toes. Or maybe he wants to prove to the brass how proactive he is. Or maybe he just wants to bugger all his soldiers about.’

‘Ha,’ said Maddy. ‘That’s the most likely reason.’

‘Enough of that,’ said Seb. ‘How was your day? How are the kids? And what’s for supper?’

Maddy laughed. ‘Fine, fine, although Rose is teething again, and it’s chicken in barbecue sauce. Only the kids get their chicken without the sauce. I’m not sure they’re quite up to the addition of chilli powder into their diet just yet.’

‘Yum,’ said Seb. ‘I’m starving.’

‘Good,’ said Maddy, ‘I think I might have over-catered.’

‘And I could fancy a glass of wine with it,’ said Seb. ‘How about you?’

‘I could, totally. There’s just one snag.’

Seb glanced across the kitchen to the wine rack on the counter. ‘I see what you mean,’ he said as he saw the empty pigeonholes. ‘How about I pop across to the mess and buy a couple of bottles?’

Maddy stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Oh, do. And while you’re doing that I’ll get the kids fed and bathed. Make sure you’re back for seven. I know what you’re like when you get chatting to your mates over there.’

‘Promise,’ said Seb, heading for the door. ‘Cross my heart.’

*

Across the barracks in her office, Sam heard the news about the exercise with a leaden heart. That was another weekend about to be buggered up. With the battalion crashing out of the barracks first thing on the Monday, Rayner had just cancelled all leave for the weekend – he wasn’t going to run the risk of some of his soldiers failing to get back in time to deploy with everyone else. And that meant that, once again, her chance of seeing Luke had just been completely and comprehensively scuppered. She threw her biro onto her desk and sighed. Thanks, Rayner, she thought. Thanks a bunch.

The urge to work deserted her. She yawned and stretched and looked at her watch. Five thirty. Sod it, it was time to call it a day. She picked up her filing trays and stuffed them in the secure cabinet at the back of her office and locked it, switched off her computer, made sure the windows were closed tight and then took her office keys along to the duty clerk’s office up at battalion HQ.

‘Night, Williams,’ she said to the clerk as she hung her keys in the key press.

‘Night, ma’am.’

She left the office block and pulled her combat jacket collar up. Raining again. When hadn’t it? she wondered, as she trudged through the steady drizzle back to the mess. The rain just added to her low mood. Nothing seemed to be going right at the moment. And no one else seemed to be enjoying life either. There was no doubt about it, morale – and not just hers – was at rock-bottom.

The rain’s intensity suddenly increased from drizzle to full-on downpour and, head down, she ran the last hundred yards to the front door and careered into a shape by the porch, someone who was frantically pressing the keypad in order to get inside and gain shelter from the storm.

‘Whoops,’ shouted a voice.

‘Sorry,’ said Sam taking a pace back.

The figure flung the door open and they both piled into the warm, dry lobby.

Sam clocked who she’d run into. ‘Sorry, Seb. Didn’t mean to bowl you over.’

‘No harm done. God, it’s filthy out there.’

Sam began to take off her soaking combat jacket. ‘Vile. I am fed up with being wet and cold.’

Seb snorted. ‘And if it’s like this next week...’

‘Don’t,’ said Sam with a groan. ‘The idea of spending five days in a slit trench in this...’ She shook her head.

‘Call yourself a soldier...’ joked Seb.

Sam sighed. ‘You know, there are days,’ she said, hanging her dripping jacket on a hook in the alcove that passed as a cloakroom, ‘when I sometimes wonder if I’m in the right job.’

‘That was said with feeling,’ said Seb.

‘Sorry, crap day.’

‘Come on. Let me buy you a drink. Things may look better after a stiff gin.’

‘Doubt it,’ said Sam, gloomily.

‘It
was
a bad day.’ He led the way to the bar. ‘What’s your poison?’

‘Actually, a gin sounds lovely,’ said Sam.

‘Dawkins,’ said Seb to the steward, ‘a large gin for Captain Lewis and a pint for me. Oh, and two bottles of the house red.’ He picked up a mess chit and wrote down his order before signing it while Dawkins sorted out the drinks. ‘Tell Uncle Seb what the problem is.’

‘In the great scheme of things it’s nothing, but I was planning to nip over to see Luke and the CO’s cancelled all leave.’

‘That’s a bummer.’

‘Tell me about it.’

‘What about Luke coming over here?’

‘It’s just... it’s just I don’t fancy him staying in the mess – it isn’t exactly private, is it? – and with leave cancelled I can’t book into a hotel off base.’

‘I see your point.’

‘Anyway, it’s not the end of the world except there always seems to be
something
that mucks up our plans.’

Dawkins put their drinks on the bar along with the wine Seb had ordered.

‘Cheers,’ they said and clinked glasses.

‘And thanks for the drink and the chance for me to sound off.’

‘All part of the service.’ Seb grinned at her.

‘Hey, and what’s this I heard about the CO wanting to turn the mess into some sort of Ikea showroom?’ said Sam changing the subject.

Seb shook his head and ran his hand through his hair. ‘It’s something and nothing,’ he said non-committally. ‘It’s an idea he’s got but it probably won’t come off.’ Not now the cat’s out of the bag, he thought.

‘It won’t if the livers-in have got anything to do with it. They’re livid at the thought of him chucking out the furniture.’

‘Hmm,’ said Seb. ‘I don’t think he was going to
chuck
.’

‘Whatever. It may be a bit shabby and the armchairs have seen better days but it’s comfortable. Who wants cutting-edge design when you can sink into an armchair with an arm wide enough to rest a cuppa or a drink on?’

‘No, well... Anyway, the CO’s plans may not come to anything.’

‘They better hadn’t,’ muttered Sam. She sipped her drink again and other officers began to appear in the bar, ready for a quick drink before going to their rooms to wash and brush up, catch up on emails and square away any personal admin before dinner at seven thirty. The noise level rose and Seb found himself explaining several times that the rumoured plans for the bar were nothing to do with him and he was not to blame for any of it. He thought about staying for a second pint when Sam offered to buy him a drink, but he felt a bit picked on by the residents and called it a day, shortly after six. Picking up his bottles of wine he set off back home, dodging the rain as best he could.

‘You’re early,’ said Maddy. She was sitting on the sofa, with the children, pink and scrubbed, beside her in their pyjamas as she turned the pages of a picture book about an elephant.

Seb explained the reason. ‘And I got my ear bent by all of them.’

‘Can’t say I’m the
least
bit surprised.’ She turned her attention to Nathan. ‘Where’s the elephant in this picture, sweetie?’

‘Even Sam, who’s not exactly a fully paid up member of the Hertfordshire Regiment, felt the need to have a go at me.’

Nathan found the animal and was rewarded with a kiss on top of his head.

Maddy turned the page. ‘And how is Sam?’

‘Pis— hacked off. She was planning on seeing her man this weekend and with leave cancelled her plans have been scuppered.’

‘Can’t he come over here?’

‘I don’t think she fancies staying with him in the mess.’

Maddy considered the situation. ‘I can see her point. What about the Old Bell?’

‘Because with leave cancelled she can’t go off base.’

Maddy wrinkled her nose. ‘Duh, silly me.’

Nathan began to wriggle and Maddy turned back to the book. It was later, when the children were tucked up in bed and she and Seb were eating their supper, that Maddy suggested that Sam could stay with them for the weekend.

‘You sure?’ said Seb. ‘It’ll be work for you.’

‘The spare room is made up and I expect they’ll be out a lot of the time – romantic dinners, that sort of thing.’

‘If you’re sure.’

Maddy nodded. ‘Ring the mess and tell her – before she goes putting off her bloke.’

Mike sat at his workstation in the council offices and earwigged some of the conversations going on between his colleagues. They were, he thought, all unutterably dull – and stupid. Really, was the high point of these people’s lives watching stupid videos about cats on YouTube, because that’s what it seemed to be. There were occasions when he despaired of the human race. Of course, the calibre of his colleagues in the army had been high; they’d almost all seen active service, had had to make life and death decisions under trying circumstances, many of them had seen tragedies and destruction on a scale this load of muppets wouldn’t be able to envisage, let alone cope with, and yet, almost to a man, they remained balanced individuals who didn’t moan, didn’t complain and who worked hard. And yet, this lot... Mike cast his eye around the office. There were the spotty youths who shirked jobs whenever they thought they could get away with it; the time-servers who had ‘always done it this way’; the thirty-something job-sharing mums who had one eye on the clock and the other on their mobile; and the sharp-suited thrusters with their buzz-words and Estuary English who strutted like starlings but never seemed to do a hand’s turn. Once again, Mike felt he had nothing in common with any of his colleagues. They didn’t share a work ethic, politics, interests... even their choice of daily papers differed.