A Regimental Affair (8 page)

‘Because Ginny has invited me.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ Alice returned to her magazine. How on earth had Megan got that idea into her head?

‘She has,’ insisted Megan.

Alice lowered her magazine again. ‘Megan, I don’t know why on earth you think that someone like Ginny would want to invite you to an adult party in the officers’ mess, but I can assure you that you have got the wrong end of the stick. She just wouldn’t have done.’

‘But she has, look.’ Megan hauled a piece of card out of her jeans pocket and stuffed the creased and dog-eared scrap into Alice’s hand.

Alice read it.
That bloody woman
, she thought vehemently. What on earth was she doing inviting a young girl to a party that would no doubt end up as an exhibition in intoxication and bad behaviour – and without asking her parents’ permission first.

‘Well, you’ll have to decline.’

‘That’s not fair.’

‘Fair or not, young lady, that’s what you are going to do.’

‘But she wants me to go.’

‘Of course she doesn’t. She’s just being polite.’
She’s just stirring things, more like
, thought Alice.

‘Who’s just being polite?’ said Bob from the doorway into the sitting room.

‘No one, darling,’ said Alice smoothly.

‘Ginny,’ Megan butted in angrily.

‘How is she being polite?’

‘She has invited Megan to the party the single officers are holding next Saturday.’

‘Is that so bad?’

‘I don’t think it is suitable for Megan, that’s all. She’s too young.’

‘Mum. I’m nearly fourteen.’

‘You are
only
thirteen,’ riposted Alice. ‘My point exactly.’

Bob sighed. The judgement of Solomon was needed here. ‘Perhaps if she just went for an hour or so. Till ten o’clock.’

Megan opened her mouth and looked as if she was about to protest but Bob shot her a warning glance. Megan shut her mouth again. Alice might just be persuaded to compromise, to allow Megan to put in an appearance, but it would be foolish to hope for more than that.

‘I’ll see,’ Alice conceded grudgingly.

Sarah finished writing the details of the party in her diary and went through into the sitting room to talk to Alisdair. The television was on and Will and Jenny were glued to some daytime soap. She’d tried remonstrating about the waste of time such programmes were, only to get withering looks from the two teenagers so she had given up. However, she picked up the remote control and turned the volume down so she could speak to Alisdair without shouting.

‘I’ve had a look at the date of the mess party. As it doesn’t kick off till half past eight, why don’t we have a gang of people round for a few drinks first?’

‘That sounds like a good idea. Who have you got in mind? Apart from Bob and Alice, that is.’

‘Ha-ha, very funny.’

Alisdair gave her a long look. ‘Actually, I’m serious. If we’re having people round it would look most odd, not to say rude, if we didn’t invite them. They can always decline but we must make the offer.’

Sarah was about to open her mouth and tell Alisdair to stuff that idea when she remembered his disapproval of her gossip about Bob and Ginny. But then the devil in her got the better of her and she couldn’t resist making a snide comment. ‘My, we are being grown-up and responsible these days.’

‘Look, I know you don’t get on with Alice that well but Bob is my boss and he’s also my friend. Furthermore, as his second in command, I have to work hand in glove with him and if we fall out the regiment just won’t function properly. We’re about to go to Kosovo which, and I shouldn’t have to tell you this, isn’t going to be a picnic, and I really don’t need you stirring it with his wife or giving me a hard time at home.’

‘Mum, Dad,’ said Will, staying glued to the box, ‘if you’re going to have a row could you do it in the kitchen? Jen and I want to watch this.’

Sarah felt her face redden with shame. Alisdair was right, of course he was. And he was tired. And she was being a complete cow. And in front of the kids, who were having a rotten enough holiday anyway. ‘I’m sorry, darling. You’re right. Of course we will invite them. And who else? The rest of the patch or just the RHQ officers and their wives?’

‘Well, I think we owe hospitality to quite a few people. When was the last time we had anyone to supper?’

Will rolled over, grabbed the remote and, with a loud sigh, pointedly turned the volume up again.

Sarah decided to ignore this and just raised her voice a notch. ‘God, not everyone. We’d never squeeze them all in. Let’s just have the Greenwoods, Alice and Bob – we could have the doctor and Josie too. I know they’re not really RHQ but they’re a nice couple. And we ought to have Louise and Mike. I know they’re not RHQ either but as they live next door I really think they ought to come. And what about Ginny?’

‘But she lives in. Won’t she be helping get the mess ready?’

‘She can always say no. Besides, I think I’d like to get to know her better. She seems fun.’

‘She is. A great girl.’

‘That’s settled then.’

‘Have you two finished?’ said Jen. ‘We want to watch this and we can hardly hear it. If you want to natter, can you go next door?’

Taz held the door of her Regency cottage open wide so Debbie and the buggy could squeeze through.

‘Tight fit,’ said Debbie, desperately hoping she was going to make it without scraping the paint.

‘I don’t think builders in the late eighteenth century had come across pushchairs. I don’t think they factored that need into their designs – along with decent plumbing and draught-proof windows.’

‘That was said with feeling.’

‘Oh, don’t get me wrong. I love this house to bits, but it needs a heap of work done on it and I can only afford to do it bit by bit.’

Debbie noticed the ‘I’ rather than ‘we’ but didn’t say anything. Perhaps Taz was a single mum. Or perhaps there was a Mr Taz but he was away. Not that Debbie cared one way or another; it was no business of hers after all, but she was curious by nature. She resolved to find out. Especially as she knew exactly what exorbitant sum the house had been advertised for in the local papers so there had to be some money from somewhere.

Taz showed them into the sitting room. Debbie gave a little gasp of delight.

‘But it’s so pretty.’

‘It is, isn’t it? It’s the reason that I couldn’t resist buying this place, despite its faults.’

The room had the most wonderful ceiling of ornate plasterwork, which had been painted in white and the palest shade of yellow. On the floor was an oriental rug in shades of pale green and the chairs had been upholstered in a green and yellow Regency-stripe fabric. Dark green velvet curtains hung at the windows and on the walls were three big watercolours of country landscapes. The whole room looked wonderful and harmonious but because it was very simple it also looked child-friendly. No little tables to bump into or tempting ornaments to handle. Frankly, with a toddler in tow, Debbie was quite relieved.

‘Where’s Amelia?’

‘She’s upstairs having a rest, but I expect she’ll wake up any minute now. In fact,’ she crouched down to talk to Danielle, ‘shall we go upstairs and see if Amelia’s awake and you could find some toys to play with? Would you like that?’ Danielle nodded vigorously. ‘Good. Let’s go upstairs shall we?’ She held out her hand to Danny who grasped it firmly.

‘Shall I come?’ said Debbie hopefully. She longed to see more of the house.

‘Of course.’

Taz obviously guessed Debbie’s wish because as she led them across the hall to the stairs she pointed out the dining room, the kitchen and her study.

‘Oh, you work,’ said Debbie as they began to mount the stairs.

‘Yes. Don’t sound so surprised.’

‘Sorry, did I? It’s just that most of the mums I know don’t.’

‘Lucky them. Most of the mums I know have to.’

They reached the landing and Taz showed Debbie some bright plastic crates full of toys. Danny instantly occupied herself by pulling out one after another and then discarding each toy in turn as the next plaything caught her eye. Carefully shutting the stair gate, Taz went in to see if her daughter was waking up and left Debbie and Danny with the toys on the landing. Debbie couldn’t resist a peek into a couple of rooms before she joined Taz in Amelia’s bedroom. The toddler was just stirring in her cot. Taz pulled the curtains and woke the child properly.

‘Let’s change this nappy shall we,’ she said when Amelia had finished rubbing her eyes and yawning.

‘So what do you do?’ asked Debbie as Taz got busy with a clean disposable and some talcum powder.

‘I do some freelance stuff for a couple of big London companies. I work from home and fax or email my stuff in.’

‘Interesting.’

‘Paperwork. But it pays the bills.’

It certainly does, thought Debbie as she wondered how much it had cost to get this house looking as it did. There was a possibility that the décor might have been like this when Taz had moved in, but the matching bedding and curtains, the pictures on the walls and the beautiful nursery furniture had all cost a bomb. Whatever it was that Taz did, it paid very well. Or perhaps it was her man’s job that was so well rewarded. She had to find out.

‘So, um, what does your husband do?’ she asked as casually as she could.

‘No husband. That’s why I work.’

‘Ah.’

‘And yours?’

‘He’s an army officer.’

‘Really? How incredibly interesting.’

‘It isn’t, you know.’

‘Let’s take the little ones downstairs and get them something to drink and you can tell me all about what it’s like to be an army wife, over a cup of tea.’

Debbie was flattered that Taz should be so interested. No one else she knew was the least bit interested in her lifestyle. All the moving, separation and the grotty quarters didn’t seem like a good topic of conversation to her, but if Taz was keen to know then Debbie was quite prepared to give her the low-down, warts and all.

After Debbie had gone, Taz made sure that Amelia was happily occupied and went back into her study. She dialled the number of the features editor at the
Mercury
. As she expected, she got put through to Minty Armstrong’s voicemail.

‘Minty. It’s me, Taz. I’ve had an idea for a feature. How about something on army wives? “The Birds in the Barracks”, that sort of thing. The article about the Earl of Knightsbridge is done. I’ll fax it through tomorrow. Give me a ring when you’ve read it.’

She put the phone down. If Minty liked her new idea for a feature, she knew she’d probably have to admit to Debbie that she had been more than a little economical with the truth when she had said what she did for a living. It wasn’t exactly paperwork – more that she worked for the papers. She wondered how Debbie would react when she found out that her new friend was a top-flight freelance journalist.

Chapter Six

When the day of the party came round, Sarah and Alisdair’s pre-party party had grown like Topsy. Her plans for a select gathering had been ditched and it had degenerated into a big get-together. By the time most people had arrived there was standing room only in her sitting room. As she brought through a tray of sausage rolls and pushed her way into the centre of the room she thought, with a little disappointment, that, for a lot of people, they weren’t making much noise. She began handing around the nibbles, telling her guests not to worry about crumbs on the carpet while Alisdair distributed more wine and beer. She hoped that as the drink flowed the decibels would increase. It was a good mix of people, she thought, so there was no reason why they should be so subdued. Perhaps it was that everyone was tired with all the training the regiment had been doing recently, or perhaps it was the imminent departure of the men that was making them feel less than jolly. Well, whatever it was, all Sarah could do was to fix a smile on her face and try to make the best of things and hope the party livened up in the near future, otherwise it would be a dull bunch moving across to the mess in an hour.

She did a quick headcount to see if everyone had arrived. Bob and Alice had yet to put in an appearance and Debbie was still over in the mess trying to get Danielle to go to sleep in Ginny’s bed, helped by Ginny herself. The doorbell went.

‘I’ll get it,’ she mouthed over the chat to Alisdair as she thrust the tray of eats into Lou’s hand and asked her to make herself useful.

She pushed through her guests and escaped into the cool calm of the hall. Feeling a little flustered, partly through entertaining so many guests but partly because the entertaining wasn’t going as well as she had hoped, she brushed some flaky pastry crumbs off her dress and opened the door. She was confronted by a tall, slim blonde wearing a leopard-print bodysuit, high heels and a chain belt. The sight was so extreme that Sarah almost didn’t recognise Ginny.
Bloody hell
, she thought.

‘Sarah, I’m so sorry I’m late.’

‘Ginny. Wow!’

‘God, is it too much? Debbie says like I look like a reject from the cast of
Cats
.’

‘No, no.’ Sarah was faintly nonplussed. She had thought almost exactly what Debbie had, but what a reject! ‘No, not all. I’m just envious. If I wore a bodysuit I’d look like a sack full of snakes – all lumps and bumps and bulges.’

‘No, you wouldn’t,’ said Ginny, running her eye up and down Sarah’s size twelve figure.

Sarah spotted the eye movement. ‘Yeah, but what you don’t see is the whalebone underneath holding it all together. In a bodysuit, you have to rely on skin and muscle to keep it in shape.’

‘Sarah, that’s
so
not true. You want to put your trust in Lycra – I have. Honest.’

Sarah found herself irresistibly drawn to Ginny. There was something so disingenuous about her – and so outrageous.

‘Come on in. You’ll catch your death in that outfit if I keep you standing on the doorstep any longer.’

‘No chance of me popping my clogs,’ said Ginny, picking up a large cool box that Sarah hadn’t noticed until that moment, and stepping over the threshold. ‘Only the good die young.’ She plonked the cool box down on the hall carpet as Sarah shut the front door behind her. ‘And Debbie sends apologies. Danielle is refusing to go to sleep, the minx, so she sent me over to explain. I was going to stay with Danny and let Debbie join Richard, but Debbie wouldn’t hear of it. Anyway, I thought that as I couldn’t bring Debbie at least I could bring this.’ She indicated the cool box. ‘I hope you don’t mind or take offence but everyone’s so knackered after Colonel Bob’s training regime I thought we could all do with a bit of rocket fuel.’ She whipped the top off the box and revealed half a dozen bottles of ice-cold champagne. ‘If I’m out of order, please say so, but I think nothing gets an evening off to a flying start like a glass of fizz and I thought I’d like to make a contribution to events.’