A Regimental Affair (13 page)

‘Not to worry.’

‘No.’ But Ginny
was
worrying. She didn’t fancy the prospect of driving in pitch dark. For, out here in Kosovo, when night fell, it was very dark indeed – no street lights, no ambient light from big towns; nothing. She looked across the valley again. The sun had almost gone leaving just a small sector of orange glowing on the frontier between land and sky, but the line through the trees that marked the passage of the road was still just visible. It wound south down their side of the valley, then traced a path across the head before turning through 180 degrees to double back northwards before finally climbing out of this valley over the opposite ridge and dropping down into the next one. Not far as the crow flew, but still a fair way by road, Ginny could see the gap in the trees where the road finally crested the ridge. As she looked, something flashed. The last rays of the sun had reflected off something up there. Probably another vehicle heading down the road towards them.

Suddenly the sun dipped behind the ridge and deep shadow engulfed the road. Above them, the sky was still pale blue, although deepening to almost navy if you looked east. But in the valley it was quite dark. Bob switched on the headlights. The road flattened out for the moment and Bob changed back up to fourth. The noise from the engine subsided somewhat. They bowled along the road as it followed the contours rather than climbing up them. The darkness increased and colour quickly drained out of the vegetation that surrounded them and the scenery assumed a rather sinister and threatening atmosphere. Ginny shivered.

‘You can’t be cold, surely?’

She wasn’t – the heater was belting out heat perfectly efficiently to combat the late autumn evening chill. ‘No, someone’s just walked over my grave, that’s all.’

Bob chuckled, ‘Vampire country, eh?’

‘Something like that.’

They drove on in companionable silence with the Land Rover making its distinctive high-pitched whine, the kit in the back of the vehicle rattling about, and sometimes the tyres scrunching noisily on the loose stones and gravel that had accumulated at the edge of the road. Now and again, through the scrubby woods and across the valley, they could see a flash of the headlights of the car or truck that was heading down the road towards them. Then the road would twist and the lights would be lost from view. Ahead, in their lights, a sign warned them that the road was going to start winding again. Bob dropped the gears as the road first took a very sharp bend to the left followed by a hairpin to the right. Ginny swallowed and kept her eyes staring ahead as they crawled round another promontory sticking right out from the side of the ridge. She tried not to think about the drop beside her, now just a black abyss. The road, barely more than a glorified track, wound in and out of a series of clefts that lacerated the ridge from top to bottom. Ginny judged that they must nearly be at the head of the valley by now.

Without warning, blazing headlights on full beam came round a comer.

‘Shit,’ yelled Bob, blinded. There was a terrific roar and a lorry, going far too fast, thundered past them. Bob slammed on the brakes and the rear of the vehicle slewed slightly. Then the front wheel hit the grit on the narrow verge and the slight loss of control deteriorated into a full-scale skid. Ginny’s heart raced as she watched Bob frantically spin the steering wheel to try and regain control, then, with a sickening lurch, the Rover slowly tipped over the edge. Ginny grabbed on to her seat belt with both hands and shut her eyes as they gathered momentum. The Rover bounced and slammed its way down the incline. Outside, Ginny could bear the crack and creak of tree branches as they ploughed their way through the wood. She was being thrown around increasingly violently. Her head made an appallingly vicious contact with the side of the vehicle. Pain and light exploded in her brain. She clenched her teeth to stop herself from crying out. Then, with a ferocious jolt, the nightmare roller-coaster ride stopped and there was silence, apart from a hiss from the engine compartment.

Shaking and trying not to sob, Ginny opened her eyes. They were at a crazy angle – she was almost hanging in her seat, but they hadn’t rolled over. She could feel a warm trickle of blood seeping down her face to her neck and under her shirt, but apart from her head she didn’t think she was hurt anywhere else. Tentatively, she loosened her grip on her safety belt. Her palms were sore – she must have dug her fingernails into them. Beside her, Bob groaned.

‘Bob?’

‘Huh?’

‘You OK?’

There was a long sigh. ‘Yeah. And you?’

‘A bit battered but yeah, I think I’m OK too.’

‘I think we’d better get out of here if we can.’ Ginny could hear Bob scrabbling at his door. The angle the Rover had ended up in meant it would be easier to get out of his side than hers. Ginny reckoned that if Bob could open his door they could just fall out of it onto the ground. The passenger door was almost above her and she didn’t think she would be able to budge it if they couldn’t get out of Bob’s.

‘Bugger. It’s jammed.’ She heard a thump and felt the vehicle move slightly as he tried with more force to open it. ‘Nope. I can’t shift it. How about your door?’

Ginny tried to open it but she couldn’t find enough purchase to push it open and not slip down her seat. ‘I think we’re just going to have to crawl out the back.’

‘OK. Let me go first.’ There was a click as Bob unbuckled his seat belt then Ginny could hear him grunting and mumbling as he turned himself round and began to lever himself over the back of his seat and into the rear of the Land Rover. It was so dark she could only just make out the pale shape of Bob’s face. ‘God, I should have lost weight. I’m too fat for this sort of malarkey.’ There was another grunt. ‘Remind me to go on a diet when we get back to base.’

Ginny noted he said ‘when’ not ‘if’, and knew he was trying to cheer her up by being positive. ‘OK, Colonel.’

There was a scrabbling sound then silence, then Bob called from the back, ‘OK, your turn.’

Ginny undid her belt and nearly fell onto the driver’s seat. She banged her knee on the gear stick and her shin connected with the dash. Pain shot up her leg. ‘Fuck,’ she swore under her breath. Wedging one foot against the dashboard she twisted her body round and grabbed both seat backs, ignoring the protests from her sore leg as she levered herself over them and into the back of the vehicle. She thumped her arm on a sharp corner of the radio set and swore again.

She could see Bob, silhouetted against the slight remaining brightness in the sky, peering under the canvas roof. ‘Mind you don’t hit yourself on the radio,’ he said.

‘Very funny,’ snapped Ginny. She didn’t feel like joking. She was sore and hurt and, although she was deeply relieved she was still alive, she was shocked and shaking. With a final shove she pushed herself to the tailgate and heaved herself over it. Bob caught her as she almost fell on the rough ground, her trembling legs not properly able to take her weight. Bob holding her made her feel so much less vulnerable and she was acutely aware of his arm around her waist. She leant against him for support.

‘Are you all right?’ he said, turning her slightly so she was facing him.

Ginny nodded, trying to put a brave front on things, despite her aches and cuts. But a wave of nausea overwhelmed her and she suddenly felt even weaker and very giddy. ‘No,’ she mumbled, shaking her head. ‘I need to sit down.’ Her legs gave way and she sat down suddenly on the ground. She leant against a large rock for support.

Bob crouched in front of her and took her hands in his. ‘Where do you hurt?’

Ginny felt tears welling up. Shock, self-pity, relief? Ginny didn’t know but she gulped them back. This wasn’t the moment to give in to emotion. She breathed deeply and regained control. ‘I banged my head. I think it’s cut.’

Bob let go of her hands and changed his position from crouching to kneeling. He examined her temple. He was so close Ginny could feel his breath on her skin. She shut her eyes. She had fantasised about this proximity for so long, but now it was happening and it felt all wrong.

‘I can’t see a bloody thing in this light. I’m going to see if there’s a torch in the Land Rover.’

Ginny, still with her eyes shut, listened as he got up and then rummaged in the back of the vehicle. There was some clattering and then, ‘Eureka!’ Ginny opened her eyes. Bob was back beside her clutching a torch in one hand and a first aid kit in the other.

‘Now I can get a proper look,’ he said. With great care he pushed Ginny’s hair back from her temple and examined her head. ‘Nasty,’ he pronounced after a few seconds. ‘It looks quite deep. I think the doc’ll want to put a stitch or two in it when we get you back. In the meantime I’m going to bandage it up.

‘OK,’ said Ginny.

‘You’re going to have to make yourself useful and hold the torch for me. Can you manage that?’

‘I think so.’

‘Good girl. I’ll try not to hurt you.’ Bob handed Ginny the torch and clasped his hand over hers as he got her to direct the beam on to the correct spot. Then he busied himself with a sterile pad and a bandage. ‘There,’ he said finally. ‘Perfect. You look like a war hero. Or should I say heroine?’

Ginny switched off the torch. The beam had begun to have a yellowish tinge to it. It looked as though the batteries weren’t in their first flush of life and Ginny didn’t want to waste them. She smiled weakly at him. She still felt shaky but didn’t think she was going to faint any more. And, more than feeling a bit flaky, she was beginning to feel chilly. A light breeze stirred the damp evening air. She thought that, considering the time of year and how high they were, the temperature was bound to drop still further. She shivered slightly.

Bob sat beside her and leant back against the rock too. ‘Well, here’s a how-de-do.’

‘Another fine mess you’ve got us into,’ responded Ginny picking up on the movie quote theme.

‘That’s more like it,’ said Bob looking at her and smiling. ‘You had me worried for a minute.’

‘I feel a bit better now,’ admitted Ginny. ‘Less wobbly.’

‘Good.’

‘So now what?’

‘First of all I’m going to see if we can get a signal through. Frankly I don’t hold out much hope. Reception in such a deep valley is always dodgy and now we’ve slid halfway down it I don’t think we stand a snowball’s chance in hell, but we’ve got to give it a shot.’

‘And if we can’t radio for help?’

‘Stay put and hope someone finds us or try and walk out I suppose?’

‘Right,’ said Ginny slowly and with an obvious lack of enthusiasm.

‘Got a better idea?’ The colonel sounded sharp. The worry about their situation had made him short-tempered.

‘No, Colonel,’ said Ginny contritely.

‘For God’s sake, call me Bob. This is hardly a situation that demands formality.’

There was a small silence. Ginny broke it to show there were no hard feelings. ‘So which do you think we should do? Stay or go?’

‘I don’t know. We could try to climb back up to the road but there’s a lot of loose stones and scree, and the torch isn’t going to be good for much longer. Personally I think we’re in more danger of a fall and injuring ourselves if we try to go straight up than if we follow the contours back to the road lower down. But even if we do that, the terrain isn’t good and if one of us twists an ankle or something …”

‘We’re really in the shit.’

‘Not elegantly put, but succinct.’

‘And if we stay?’

‘I don’t know how obvious it will be from the road that a vehicle has left it. It may be that the first vehicle along in the morning will spot our trail of destruction and send a search party to look for us. Alternatively, it could take them ages to spot where that bloody truck ran us over the edge.’

‘They’ll miss us back at base.’

‘But they won’t send put a search party till daylight. They’ll probably assume we’ve had a breakdown and are holed up in the vehicle overnight.’

Ginny thought quickly about the options outlined by Bob. ‘I think we should stay here tonight and see if anyone comes for us in the morning. If they haven’t by midday then we’ve still got a good few hours of daylight to get to the road. To be honest, I still feel a bit groggy and I really don’t fancy the idea of trying to negotiate these woods in the pitch dark.’

‘My view exactly. Well, let’s see what we’ve got to make ourselves comfortable for the night. I’m afraid it’s not going to be much.’ Bob got to his feet. Ginny started to stand up too. ‘You stay where you are, young lady. I’m perfectly capable of finding things on my own. Besides which, we’ve only the one torch.’

Ginny slumped back against the rock again. Even that small amount of exertion had made her head spin. She listened to the noises coming from the Rover again. She heard Bob try to make contact using the radio. He made a number of calls for help using various frequencies, but the silence when he switched it to ‘receive’ and a couple of
sotto voce
swear words seemed to indicate he had had no success. After a while he gave it up as a waste of time. A few minutes later he returned holding a combat jacket, a tarpaulin and a twenty-four-hour ration pack. ‘The radio was no good – couldn’t get any sort of signal. The whole radio might be knackered for all I know.’ He threw his booty on the ground by Ginny. ‘Not much, but at least if it rains we will keep dry and there’s a bite to eat,’

He unfolded the tarpaulin and spread it out. There would be plenty of room for the two of them underneath it. Then he sat down next to her so they could examine the ration pack together in the torchlight. A tin of sausages and beans, an oatmeal biscuit, some marge and jam, a chocolate bar, boiled sweets and a tin of stew was what they found.

‘Enough to keep us going,’ announced Bob. ‘Are you hungry?’

‘I could fancy a bit of chocolate.’

Bob handed her the bar. Ginny broke it in two and handed one half back. Bob switched off the torch again to conserve the batteries. They munched in silence. When they had finished, Ginny rubbed her hands together to keep the circulation going.

‘Are you cold?’ asked Bob.

‘A bit,’ admitted Ginny.

Bob reached forward and pulled the tarp up so that it covered them up to their chests. ‘Tuck it round your legs,’ he ordered. ‘Keep out the draught.’