A Regimental Affair (19 page)

Chapter Twelve

Alice was getting ready for bed. She had pulled back the curtains as she always did before she got into bed and was taking a minute or two to look at the moon shining over the barracks. As she stood by the window, she saw a figure walk a little unsteadily down the road towards the officers’ mess. She wasn’t sure, but she thought it might be Ginny Turner. She knew the first contingent of the regiment was on its way back from Kosovo, so it was quite likely. She made a little subconscious moue of disapproval. The girl had only been back five minutes and already she was drunk.
Really, she ought to have more self-control
.

Alice turned away and climbed into bed. She looked at the pillow next to her and wished Bob was back with her. She had been terribly lonely while he was away. She didn’t have any real friends on the patch and no one called or dropped in on spec like they did with the other wives. Frequently she had stood at the drawing-room window and watched the toing and froing between the houses down the road and had felt completely isolated. She had always felt that it wasn’t the place of the CO’s wife to be the most popular person on the patch, but she had hoped that if she ever found herself in such a position the other wives would find her approachable and would wish to include her in their get-togethers. But they hadn’t. She had been forced to admit to herself that she wasn’t wanted. With a stab of jealousy she recalled that Ginny had only recently got back and already she was in the thick of things. It was so unfair that the little trollop was so fêted.
Of course
, thought Alice angrily,
she buys affection – all that ridiculous champagne she provided at Sarah’s house
. And wheedling her way into Megan’s life as a way of endearing herself to Bob. Alice made a mental note to put an end to that friendship just as soon as she could. She wasn’t having a continuation of Megan’s hero-worship when she came home for Christmas.

Alice turned over in bed and tried to make herself comfortable, but her irritable thoughts stopped her from relaxing. Why did she allow Ginny to wind her up so? It was ridiculous. It wasn’t as if Ginny could possibly provide any threat to her position within the regiment. So what was it about the woman that she found so grating? Alice thought about it and decided that it was Ginny’s confidence.
And that’s the problem
, she admitted to herself. She had never had much confidence herself, and to see Ginny waltzing around the place, cocky and self-assured, never putting a foot wrong socially, stuck in Alice’s throat. Alice knew that was why she always tried so hard to do things properly – she was scared that she might make a gaffe. And, more than anything, she was scared that if she made such a slip the other wives might guess that her background wasn’t top drawer. John Major might have decreed that Britain was a classless society, but no one had bothered to tell the army and Alice knew only too well that some of the wives were monumental snobs who would probably have a field day if they discovered what her pedigree – or lack of it – really was.

Debbie watched Danielle playing with Amelia as Taz recounted the latest problems she had discovered with living in a period house. Outside Debbie’s house the rain hammered on the double-glazed windows and the wind buffeted the scrubby bushes in the back garden, but the sitting room of the bland army quarter was warm and cosy as Taz detailed her latest tussle with the planning authorities over her ‘unreasonable’ desire to have new windows that excluded draughts.

‘Speaking as someone who would kill to live in her own home, a home of her choice, you’ve come to the wrong woman for sympathy,’ she said with raised eyebrows as Taz finished.

‘Oh, it’s not so bad is it? I mean, if you have a problem, all you have to do is lift the phone and someone organises everything for you. You don’t have to decorate or worry about maintaining the heating system, and at least your house is weatherproof.’

‘I know, I know, but it would be nice to experience the pitfalls of owner-occupancy, believe me.’

‘And still, looking on the bright side, I could never aspire to living in a great big place like Montgomery House, but you might.’

‘True, although if I get my way, Richard will have left the army long before he’s old enough for that.’

‘And what would he do if he did?’

‘Lord knows, but anything that doesn’t involve endless bloody separation.’

‘When is he due home?’

‘Only a few more days now. He’ll be back in time to help with the Christmas shopping, that’s for sure.’

‘You must be so looking forward to it?’

‘I should say. I mean, it doesn’t matter how strong a marriage is, it can’t help if the two partners are always getting split up.’

‘Distance makes the heart grow fonder,’ offered Taz.

‘Yeah, but out of sight, out of mind. I just feel it’s all too easy for the blokes to find a bit of casual nookie when they’re away for so long. And if they’re clever and don’t go boasting about it, who’s to know? Certainly not the wife.’

‘Does it happen much?’

‘Difficult to say. But I know for a fact that there’s been at least one extramarital affair this tour.’

‘Really?’ Taz’s curiosity was more personal than professional. ‘How do you know?’

‘Because the “other woman” has told me so.’

‘Heavens.’

‘Well, it’s not really an affair. More of a several-night stand but even so … I reckon that once a man has strayed and got away with it, he’s quite capable of straying again.’

‘And would he?’

‘I doubt it. He’s got too much to lose.’

‘It’s an officer then?’

‘No, I can’t say. I’ve said too much already.’
Much too much
, thought Debbie. But then, what was the harm in telling someone not remotely connected with the army? Still, just to be safe she added, ‘You mustn’t breathe a word of what I’ve told you to anyone. I was told this in confidence and I promised I wouldn’t repeat anything, so if this gets out I’ll be right in it.’

‘OK.’

Debbie changed the subject and asked Taz about her plans for Christmas.

‘I’m staying at home. It’s going to be Amelia and me and no hassle.’

‘No relations?’

‘My mother’s dead and I’m not sure where my father is. He walked out on Mum when I was about twelve and I haven’t seen him since.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be. He was a bastard anyway and I’m quite glad Amelia doesn’t have to have anything to do with him. And
her
dad isn’t any better; he pushed off as soon as I found out I was pregnant and God knows where he is now. Hell, hopefully. I don’t mind the thought of Christmas on my own, not now I have Amelia.’

‘Still, it doesn’t sound like terrific fun.’

‘We’ll be fine. Amelia will have a great time with the presents but she’s far too young to know about any other sort of Christmas she might be missing out on – you know, one with lots of people and crackers and stuff.’

‘Even so, it’ll be dull for you.’

‘I don’t know. There’ll be no one to squabble over which film I want to watch, no one to criticise my cooking, no one to tell me I’ve eaten too much. You see, there are lots of advantages.’

‘Look, tell me to take a running jump if you want to, but how about you come over to ours and have lunch with us? You and Amelia can have a lazy morning opening pressies and you can go home after to watch whatever film you like on TV, but I’ve got a vast turkey on order and it’s too much for us and …’ Debbie stopped and looked imploring. ‘It’d be such fun. And you’d meet Ginny. She’s stuck here with nowhere to go, too. Go on, do say yes.’

‘I will when I can get a word in edgeways.’

‘Really? Magic!’

‘Yes, I’d love to. To be honest, I was really just putting a brave face on things.’

Ginny was in her room watching her portable TV when she heard a knock on her door. Eagerly she yelled for her visitor to come in. As all the living-in mess officers had disappeared to friends and relations for the holiday, and Ginny had stood down the mess staff as she was more than capable of rustling up beans on toast for herself, she hadn’t seen or spoken to a single, living soul for almost twenty-four hours and she felt a little stir-crazy. More than once the previous day she had considered going round to Debbie’s but she was afraid that, charming though Richard was and as welcoming as they both always were, she might be surplus to requirements. After six months of separation, Ginny had no doubt that her friends had lots of catching up to do which would include quality family time, and her presence would surely cramp their style. So Ginny had retreated to her room with the TV guide and a bottle of wine and no hope of human contact till Christmas lunch at Debbie’s the following day. The door opened and Megan poked her head round it.

‘Hi, Ginny,’ she said, a trifle shyly. ‘I’m so sorry I haven’t been to see you before.’

‘Megan!’ She tried to sound pleased but inwardly she was groaning. When the school holidays had begun and Megan had not put in an appearance, Ginny had really hoped that Megan had got fed up with hanging around a woman just about old enough to be her mother, and had found some friends of her own age. It would have simplified life more than somewhat. ‘Long time no see,’ she added, hoping she sounded regretful and not pleased about their lack of contact.

‘Mother has had me doing so much stuff at home. And insisting that all my holiday work got done before Christmas so that it’s all out of the way. I can’t see what difference it makes
when
it gets done, as long as I do it, but you know Mum,’ grumbled Megan.

Not half as well as I know your father
, Ginny thought grimly. But she dismissed that and said, ‘How did the
Pirates of Penzance
go?’

‘Great. Well, the parents didn’t throw things at us or boo, so, yeah, great I suppose.’

‘Thanks for your letters.’

‘Sorry they tailed off a bit at the end.’

‘That’s OK. You were very busy.’

‘Yeah, I was a bit.’

‘So was I.’

The conversation was desperate, but Ginny didn’t want to encourage Megan to stay. What she really wanted was for Megan to get the hint that she wished to be on her own. No, being on her own wasn’t really what she wanted; company would be wonderful, but not Megan’s company. The trouble was, Ginny didn’t want to have to spell it out. The last thing she wanted to do was to be brutal to the poor kid. The situation between Ginny and her dad wasn’t Megan’s fault, but there now seemed every likelihood that she might end up getting hurt too.

The TV programme came to an end and a noisy theme tune blared into the room. ‘I’m not interrupting anything?’ said Megan hopefully, looking at the television and the glass of wine.

‘Well …’It was obvious to anyone with half an eye that Ginny had only been loafing. ‘I was sort of planning on a really early night. You know, long soak in the bath, leg wax, eyebrows, that sort of stuff.’ Ginny expected her nose to shoot forwards, Pinocchio-like, and poke Megan’s eye out.

Megan looked crushed. ‘Oh,’ she said in a small voice.

And Ginny knew that her young admirer was desperately hoping that she would mention something about the shopping spree they’d planned six months previously, but Ginny had already decided to forget about it. She was banking on the fact that Megan was probably too polite to bring the subject up.
Please God, she is
, prayed Ginny silently.

‘Right, um, well …’

‘Have a lovely Christmas,’ said Ginny. ‘I’m sure you will.’

‘Yeah.’ Spect so. And you too. Bye.’

And after Megan had shut the door, Ginny realised that never before in her life had she felt such a complete heel.

Despite the cold. Alice had the door to her house propped open so that her guests for drinks on Christmas morning wouldn’t have to wait on the doorstep. Bob was dispensing good wishes and mulled wine in large quantities and when Richard, Danielle, Taz and Amelia arrived, the house was already packed with people.

‘Come in, come in,’ yelled Bob over the hubbub of noisy conversation. ‘Put your coats on the stairs, Megan will take them up for you. Have a drink.’

‘Colonel, this is Taz. A friend of ours,’ said Richard as he took the proffered glasses and passed one to Taz. ‘I’m sorry, Taz,’ he admitted, ‘but I don’t know your other name.’

‘Forget it, Taz’ll do nicely.’

The colonel and Taz shook hands. ‘No Debbie?’ he asked.

‘She’s coming along in a sec. She’s just putting the potatoes on.’

‘Great. Take the little ones into the dining room, there’s some Disney videos for them to watch and some squash and biscuits.’

Taz and Richard did as they were bid and found that Sarah’s two children, Will and Jen, had been bribed or co-opted into providing a babysitting service. The racket in the dining room was nearly as loud as the one created by the parents, but the children seemed happy enough. Danny and Amelia were a little apprehensive at first about being left, but a bowl of crisps, the promise of juice and the lure of the video proved too tempting and Taz and Richard were soon able to escape. They were making their way out of the room when they bumped into Sarah who was coming to make sure Will and Jen were coping.

‘Hi, happy Christmas,’ she said to Richard.

‘And to you. Sarah, let me introduce Taz to you. Taz, this is Sarah, Sarah, this is Taz. Taz is a friend of Debbie’s, she’s spending the day with us.’

Sarah extended her hand. ‘Taz, that’s a name I haven’t come across before. Is it short for something?’

‘Tabitha, but I hate it. It’s fine in Beatrix Potter books but not for a grown-up.’

‘Tabitha – how unusual. Although it’s the second time I’ve come across the name recently.’

‘Really?’

‘And now it’s going to bug me all day as I can’t for the life of me remember where I heard it. Still, never mind.’

Sarah continued into the dining room and Richard and Taz joined the rest of the party. A few moments later, Debbie caught up with them.

‘This is a good crowd, isn’t it?’ she said, looking around. ‘I’d have thought most people would have gone away for Christmas.’

‘I think the men want to be at home with their families,’ said Richard. I don’t think they’re interested in hurtling round the country seeing their relations.’