Civvy Street (45 page)

Seb didn’t trust himself to answer and followed Mike across the room.

*

Susie had moved back into the driver’s seat and was sitting with her feet on the passenger seat while the girls sat sideways on in the back, leaning against the doors with their knees crooked and their feet in the middle. Under them three inches of water sloshed around in the footwell while their breath fogged in the freezing air inside the car.

‘What’ll happen when the water reaches us?’ said Katie.

‘We’ll get wet,’ said Susie. ‘But it won’t come to that. The water will stop rising soon enough, you’ll see. The rain has already eased off.’

‘Not much,’ said Ella, gloomily.

Susie checked her phone again.

‘A signal isn’t just going to magically appear,’ said Katie.

Susie sighed. ‘Maybe.’

She stared at her phone and thought about using the torch app to try and send some sort of signal – but to who? There hadn’t been a sign of life around here for hours. And despite the lack of signal, she was wary of running her phone battery, as well as the car battery, down completely. Somehow, the fact that her phone still functioned gave her a crumb of comfort and to waste its power on the tiny off-chance that there was someone, out there in the darkness, who might just spot a glimmer of light seemed too remote to be worth considering. No, better to preserve this one resource, she thought, even if she wasn’t entirely sure of her own logic. Disconsolately she put the phone back on the dashboard and stared out into the dark soggy evening. For a second she wondered if the light from the screen had left a residual image burned on her retina. A hundred yards away it looked as if there was light shining off the wet trees in a nearby copse. Then she realised there
was
a light shining off the leaves. And then she heard the wokka-wokka noise of helicopter rotors and saw the light came from a spotlight attached to the chopper.

As quickly as she could she swung her legs round and opened the car door.

‘Mum,’ the girls stated to protest before they heard what their mother had spotted.

Susie almost fell out of the car as she sploshed into the calf-deep, freezing water. She pressed her phone and then hit the torch app. Was the light bright enough? Would they see it? They had to, they just had to.

Camilla was sitting on the sofa in her sitting room listening to opera and reading a book when she heard the front door slam open and then slam shut again.

‘Jack?’

Nothing.

Camilla got up and went into the hall and saw her husband standing there, peeling off his wet combat jacket. Filthy water was dripping onto the fawn carpet.

‘Darling, could you do that—’

‘Don’t you fucking start,’ he snarled.

‘Jack!’

He glared at her. ‘What?’

‘You’re making a mess on the carpet.’

‘Am I really?’ he sneered. ‘Like I care. Like I care about anything to do with the army.’

‘Jack?’

He shook his head. ‘Get me a drink. A Scotch – a big one.’

‘Would you like some supper?’

Jack sighed. ‘Maybe later. Right now I need a drink.’ He sat down on the hall chair and began to unlace his sodden boots.

Camilla went into the dining room and got a tumbler out of the sideboard and then poured Jack a hefty slug of whisky from the decanter. Wordlessly she returned to the hall and handed it to him before heading upstairs. A couple of minutes later she returned with a warm towel from the airing cupboard and his dressing gown.

‘Take your wet things off and come and sit down. The fire’s lit. You’ll feel better when you’re warm and dry.’

Jack drained his glass. ‘Get me another.’

Camilla was about to ask him if he thought this was wise when she saw the look in his eyes. She did as she was told. She consoled herself, on her return to the hall, that he seemed to be taking her advice about getting out of his soaked clothing and was towelling his semi-naked body down before he slipped on his dressing gown and pulled the cord tight round his waist.

‘Want to tell me about it?’ she asked.

Jack shook his head. ‘Where do I start?’

Camilla led the way into the sitting room expecting Jack to follow her but he veered off into the dining room and, when he rejoined her, he was clutching the whisky decanter.

‘They’re all bastards and as for Mike Collins – if I still commanded him I’d have him court-martialled for gross insubordination, disobeying an order, dereliction of duty... and... and... I’d throw the book at him.’ Jack took another slug of Scotch before he sat down.

‘What happened?’

‘I’ve already told you he thinks that as some jumped-up pathetic little council dogsbody he had the right to throw his weight about and command my troops.
My
troops!’ Camilla nodded. ‘And when I pointed out to him that he had no such authority he threatened to have me arrested.’

Camilla nodded again, her face a mask of disapproval.

‘Well, it didn’t end there. The PM came to visit the site, flew down from London, and Collins actually prevented me from talking to him. I mean, not that I wanted to for my own sake, but I felt it was important that someone represented the soldiers and told him what a fantastic job the lads were doing. But no, Collins was too busy sucking up and grabbing all the glory for himself.’

‘Well, what can you expect from a family like theirs? The things I heard about what their daughters got up to at boarding school...’

‘And as for bloody Seb Fanshaw.’ Jack swilled some more whisky.

‘Well, the Fanshaws...’ Camilla sniffed. ‘Maddy hangs out with other ranks’ wives.’

‘She does
what
?’

‘She had that woman who runs the hairdressers over for lunch today. I mean, really!’

‘In an officers’ quarter?’

Camilla nodded.

‘I’ll have to have a word with Seb. Fraternising – it never ends well. Maybe I was wrong in recommending him for promotion. It was a mistake. A big mistake.’ Jack emptied his glass and poured in more whisky. ‘I don’t see why they’re all against me. Getting anything done in this regiment is like pushing water uphill. All the officers seem determined to undermine me. Seb and Mike even accused me of jeopardising Susie Collins’ safety. They said I deliberately hadn’t told them she was missing.’

Camilla snorted. ‘How could they! Like you’d do anything like that.’

‘Exactly. I tried to tell Mike but he was too busy arse-licking the PM to want to bother to listen to anything I had to say. Well, he’s only got himself to blame.’ Jack drank some more. ‘They all hate me. It’s jealousy, that’s what it is. Jealousy. And spite. You understand that, Camilla. You know I only want the best for the regiment and its men. You know commanding this regiment isn’t some sort of personal ego trip.’ He took another gulp. ‘It’s all hard work and no thanks. No thanks at all.’

‘No, darling. They don’t deserve you. None of them do.’

‘Well, I’ll show them. I’ll show the bastards. They’re not going to grind me down. I’m going to demand a posting – see how they like it when they get someone else. Someone who doesn’t have the vision and leadership skills that I have.’

‘Will they allow you to move on?’ Camilla was hoping this was the whisky talking and that in the cold, sober light of morning Jack would have a different view; she really couldn’t face another move in under a year.

‘Hah, well if they don’t I’ll tell them to shove it. I’m not working with a bunch of back-stabbing, disloyal shysters. I’m too good for this place and it’s about time they bloody well recognised it.’

Camilla bit her lip. ‘Yes dear,’ she said quietly.

*

Shivering with bone-aching cold Susie frantically waved her phone above her head, hoping the pilot would spot the tiny torchlight. Agonisingly she watched the spotlight pan over the countryside. It seemed as if it was being pointed anywhere but at her car. She knew there was no point in shouting; no one would hear her above the racket of the engines. The light shone on the trees in a nearby copse and Susie wept with frustration. Why the hell would they be in a wood? They’d been travelling by car, on a
road.
Why didn’t they search along the road? But slowly the light drifted off the trees, along the hedge and towards her. Susie jumped up and down in the almost knee-high water, waving her phone like a woman possessed, forgetting the fact that she was almost numb with cold, just concentrating on the approaching light, willing it to see her, see the car...

And then she was in its glare. The light was blinding. It was like being dazzled by the sun and she had to look away, her eyes clenched shut as the downwash of the rotor blades swept over her, kicking up a fine spray of water and enveloping her in a paraffin-scented haze of aviation fuel exhaust fumes. Relief washed over her with an intensity she didn’t know was possible, and with it came the realisation of how perilous their situation had been. For all her brave talk that the worst they might experience was being a bit cold and wet, Susie knew in her heart that the reality had been a sight more serious than that – and the fact that a helicopter was now involved served to underline it. Tears began to roll down her cheeks – she could now allow herself to acknowledge the danger she’d allowed them to get in.

The twins scrambled out of the car and sploshed through the freezing water to stand beside her. Susie put her arms around them as the helicopter hovered overhead. She gave them a reassuring squeeze. Their eyes adjusted to the brilliance of the searchlight and they were able to gaze up at the underside of the giant Sea King. Silhouetted against the light they saw a man on a wire being winched down towards them. He inched lower, rotating slightly as he descended. A minute later he was standing beside them in the water. He gave Susie a thumbs up then tapped Ella on the shoulder. Susie gave Ella a reassuring nod as the winchman looped her daughter onto the rope then she was gone; being lifted into the air and safety. A couple of minutes later Katie was whisked upwards and then it was Susie’s turn.

A surge of fear engulfed her, despite the fact she was being rescued, as she felt herself being swung upwards, the horizon expanding madly with every metre of altitude. The strap under her arms was so tight it was hard to breathe and the noise as they got closer to the aircraft became even more deafening and then she felt arms tugging at her backwards, dragging her onto a cold metal floor, her legs banging against the edge of the doorway and then she was half sitting, half lying on the floor of the chopper staring up at a couple of men who were wearing helmets and coveralls. Once she was disentangled from the winch she was lifted to her feet, wrapped in a space blanket and led to a seat like a canvas deckchair, attached to the frame of the aircraft and strapped in securely. Her daughters were already sitting there, also wrapped in silver blankets and still shivering. As Susie sat down, the side door was slammed shut and the cabin heating cranked up to full blast. She wanted to hug her daughters, to reassure herself, as much as them, that it was all going to be all right but the space blankets and the harnesses made it impossible, so she had to contend herself with patting their legs and smiling. The twins smiled back, a little wanly but with warmth. Then both the girls, separately but together, each took a hand and held it tight. Susie had a sense that their terrible experience might have shifted the family dynamic quite significantly, and for the better. They were going to be all right – but in a more important, longer-lasting way than the helicopter rescue meant.

*

The relief when the radio message from the police helicopter came through to the bronze command operations room was tangible. Mike turned away from the crowd of people, his mouth working, and blew his nose. Seb clapped him on the shoulder.

‘I’m so pleased for you, mate,’ he said.

Mike swallowed before he answered. ‘You don’t know quite how worried you are, until you feel the relief.’

‘I can imagine. But Susie and the kids are safe now, that’s the thing. They’re being taken to the evacuation centre but the helicopter is landing on the rugby pitch – only place locally that’s easily accessible and big enough. ETA in about ten minutes. I’ll organise transport to get them to the centre – unless you want to do that?’

‘No, you carry on, Seb. The way I feel at the moment I don’t think I’m capable of organising anything.’

‘I’m not surprised. What with everything else
and
your family in danger... well, I think anyone would struggle.’

Seb made his way over to the main operations hub, organised a police Range Rover to collect Mike and then take the family down to the next village and the evacuation centre.

‘Thanks, Seb,’ said Mike, gathering up his coat and mobile. ‘Don’t know when I’ll get back here. I’m sure the team can hold the fort – as long as Rayner doesn’t keep sticking his oar in.’ He looked around. ‘And talking of Rayner, where is he?’

Seb shrugged. Like he cared. ‘I should think he’s slunk away back under his stone. You know, I’m still finding it hard to believe that he or Camilla could be so utterly vile.’

‘Beggars belief doesn’t it.’

A police officer entered the room and signalled to Mike that the helicopter was about to land.

‘Give my love to Susie,’ said Seb as Mike left. ‘And let’s hope she and the kids are suffering from nothing worse than a nasty fright.’

Mike nodded. ‘Thanks, Seb.’

As Mike left the room, Dan Armstrong came in.

‘How’s Perkins?’ asked Seb. With so much that had happened since they’d been recalled off the exercise on Salisbury Plain, Seb found it hard to believe that it had only been that morning when he, Perkins and Armstrong had tried to clear the river Bavant of the branch.

‘He’s OK, boss. They’re keeping him in overnight, just to be on the safe side, but he’s pretty chipper, all things considered.’

‘And, um, how did you and he get on?’

‘At the risk of making a comment in bad taste – considering what happened to Perkins – we both agreed it was water under the bridge.’

Seb laughed. ‘Very bad taste. But it’s good you’re both behaving like grown-ups.’