Read A Regimental Affair Online
Authors: Kate Lace
A Regimental Affair
A REGIMENTAL AFFAIR
Kate Lace
I am indebted to a number of people who gave me help and information about the life of long-suffering army wives. If there are mistakes in this book, it is not the fault of the following: Emma Brambell, Sarah Buckley, Cathy Carter and Jan Smith, to whom I am very grateful.
Contents
Chapter One
Ginny Turner was surrounded by chaos. On the floor of her room was a suitcase piled high with clothes, mostly various sorts of army uniform, but with a number of skimpy outfits that bore witness to Ginny’s off-duty retail habit. By the bed was a packing case half-filled with books, CDs, walking boots and a tennis racket, while a hockey stick balanced precariously in the corner. Her skis were propped against the end of her bed until she could work out how the hell she was going to fit them in a tea chest. Music blared from her radio and Ginny herself was lying on her back on the bed wearing a T-shirt and shorts, her left knee crooked with her right foot resting on it, nattering into her mobile phone.
‘I know, it’s a pisser, isn’t it? I mean, two weeks’ notice to move. It’s all very well them saying “exigencies of the service”, but it still means I’m the one getting mucked about and this new place I’m going to is in the back of bloody beyond – although I’ll have more to do than you have where you live.’ There was a knock on her door. ‘Hang on a mo,’ she instructed. She held the phone away from her mouth as she yelled, ‘Come in!’ The door opened and an attractive young man poked his head round and tapped his watch. She looked at her own. ‘Oh shit.’ She re-clamped her phone to her ear. ‘I’m sorry, Netta. Gotta go. I’m late. Ring you tomorrow. Yeah, hugs to all the kids and love to Petroc. Bye.’
Smiling apologetically at her visitor, Ginny bounced off her bed, flicked her phone shut and switched off the radio. ‘I’m so sorry. I was chatting to my sister and forgot the time. Give me two ticks and I’ll be there.’
‘It’s your farewell party.’
‘I know, I know. But let’s face it, if you lot haven’t got used to me being late by now, when will you?’
Tim Benson nodded and gave her a lopsided smile. He wondered how could anyone so utterly organised at work be so shambolic in her social and private life?
As soon as he left, Ginny stripped to the buff and concentrated on getting ready for her final night out with the other single officers before her departure from her current unit to a new posting, via a spot of leave. She only had herself to blame for being so late this time – her excuse that a phone call had delayed her had been a fluent lie. The truth was she had spent too long going through an old photo album she’d found as she’d been packing. She instantly remembered what it contained and had flicked eagerly through it to find a few specific shots. She’d whizzed past the snaps of her earlier exploits in the army until she found what she had been looking for; pictures of the last time her path had crossed that of Bob Davies. Then, he’d been a junior captain, not long married and a new father, and in the two years that Bob, his wife and Ginny had all been together at Tidworth she had got to know them quite closely. Well, not his wife. Ginny had been wary of Alice. There had been something about the woman that Ginny had taken against almost from the outset. She had never been able to put her finger on it precisely, but she had an inkling that Alice had not entirely approved of her. Not enough to refuse her offer of babysitting Megan, but enough to subtly cut her at the few social events they attended together. It had been very hurtful, and if Ginny hadn’t liked Bob so much she would have told Alice where to get off when she’d asked her to babysit.
To start with she’d liked Bob simply because he’d been kind to her. She’d been the newbie in the unit – and the only girl – and so had been largely ignored by most of the other officers. The blokes seemed to resent a woman living with them in the mess – some sort of macho idea that having a woman around would cramp their style. Consequently she’d felt shunned and lonely, which hadn’t been helped by the fact that her sister had got a job on the Isles of Scilly and her parents had been stationed in Washington. It wasn’t her style to complain and she’d told no one just how friendless she’d felt. Instead, she’d thrown herself into her work and got on with things.
Somehow Bob had guessed that she wasn’t the happiest person in the regiment and had wheedled out of her the reason why. She had been touched that he cared. Not only that, he was also the one who had bothered to find out that she had been a county hockey player before she joined the army, and who’d had the courage to suggest that she should be included in the regimental hockey team – a suggestion that had been vindicated when she had become the team’s highest goalscorer that season. That, more than anything, had given her status in the unit and had helped to integrate her with the men. But more than that, whenever Bob came across her he made a point of talking to her. He had a knack for making her think he really cared about her, unlike the other blokes who only just about tolerated her. She knew it was an act – he was married with a kid – but she didn’t mind. It was just lovely to have someone take an interest in her when everyone else dear to her was miles away. She knew that if it hadn’t been for him she might have easily thrown in the towel and resigned from the army. It was one thing being perfect military material – outgoing, sporty, courageous – but it was another thing entirely being able to prove it when surrounded by blokes. She knew it was directly down to Bob that her first unit had accepted her eventually, and she was incredibly grateful. Furthermore, young and naïve as she was, she had been deeply flattered that this older, good-looking man had taken the least bit of interest in her, and it wasn’t very surprising that, over the months they had been posted together, she’d found that gratitude wasn’t her only feeling regarding him.
In the ten years since, Ginny ought to have grown sufficiently in self-knowledge to understand that Alice’s antipathy towards her might have stemmed from the fact that Alice realised what Ginny’s feelings were too. And if she had been further inclined to a moment of self-examination, Ginny might have realised that, in the exuberance of youth, she had probably not been as discreet as she thought she had. Then, he had been, and possibly still was, an absolute hunk. Not only that, but he had a terrific sense of humour and shared Ginny’s thirst for extreme sports and adventurous training, which had thrown them together on several occasions. She had enjoyed his company and had searched it out – which had probably been the main source of Alice’s resentment – but never with any sort of alternative agenda. She might have been young and naïve but she wasn’t stupid, nor was she a marriage wrecker. But when looking at the photos and recalling the events of a decade ago, Ginny had not bothered with any analysis beyond wondering, yet again, what on earth had possessed Bob to marry Icy Alice and, more intriguingly, to stay married to her. She’d always felt that Bob would be sensational in bed, but Alice?
Hardly
. Which had led Ginny to allow herself an indulgent fantasy involving Bob. Immersed as she had been in her thoughts, Ginny had completely lost track of time, and even when her sister had called she still hadn’t realised how much of the evening had slipped past unnoticed.
Guiltily, she snapped the album shut and dumped it in the box, trying to banish her inappropriate daydream about her future boss from her mind. But, as she zipped herself into a tiny denim skirt and pulled a slinky top over her head, she couldn’t ignore the quiver of pleasure she felt at the prospect of seeing him again.
Only a couple of weeks to go
, she thought, as she abandoned the muddle of her room and went to join her friends.
Ginny wasn’t the only person on the move. The next morning, Alice Davies gazed at the exterior of her new quarter and felt a deep sense of satisfaction. It was as Bob had described it on the phone, only better – and bigger. Montgomery House was mock Georgian with three floors, and was by far and away the largest house she and Bob had ever been allocated in their fourteen years of married life. It looked stylish and opulent, and Alice felt that her carefully accumulated period furniture was going to look wonderful in such surroundings. She had worked long and hard for this moment; longer and harder than anyone except Bob would ever know, and at last she had achieved her ambition. She was the commanding officer’s wife. She was top of the pecking order on the patch. She had the biggest and swankiest house and didn’t she feel smug. It was rare for Alice to feel like that, as she wasn’t one for very strong emotions. She didn’t really approve of them, as strong emotions always left her feeling uncomfortably out of control. But today she didn’t care. She was unbelievably happy and she felt the fact that the weather, despite it being only March, was bright and sunny too, could only bode well for the next two years.
The door was open and Alice wandered into the cool hall. She liked the black and white chequered tiles. Very ‘stately home’, she thought. She felt a momentary prickle of irritation that Bob was nowhere to be seen, but then she supposed her husband and the camp commandant were still busy with the march-in. As so often before during the course of Bob’s military career, he had gone on ahead to the new posting, leaving her to tie up the loose ends of the previous one. This time had been no different, although on this occasion Alice had had to wait at their old quarter to allow the departing CO and his wife the courtesy of leaving without feeling that their replacements were breathing down their necks.
The hall was big, with a sweeping staircase curving elegantly down from the first floor. Alice imagined herself descending it in a stunning evening dress – the envy of the other, junior wives. She peeked through the door on her right; the drawing room.
Nice enough
, she thought. She didn’t much go for the colour scheme, but it had a fabulous fireplace and two big French windows that led out into the garden. Not that the fact she didn’t like the décor was the least bit of a problem. She would get Bob to repaint the walls before they got properly unpacked. She considered the curtains. They would do at a pinch but, with any luck, the quarter might be due for some new ones. Excitedly, Alice opened the doors to the rooms downstairs and found with mounting delight that the promise the exterior had offered did not disappoint. The reception rooms were all beautifully proportioned and the kitchen was like something out of a glossy magazine.
She returned to the hall and ran up the stairs. At the top she met Bob.
‘I saw you arrive but I was a bit tied up with the march-in. Anyway, I thought you would like to have a look round without me getting underfoot. What do you think of it?’
‘It’s wonderful. Absolutely lovely.’
‘I thought you’d like it. Good journey?’
‘Fine. No problems at all. I passed the removal van about twenty minutes ago, so I expect they will be here soon.’ There was a discreet cough from behind Alice. She turned around.
‘Hello, Mrs Davies. I’m Mr Wilkes, ma’am. I’m the camp commandant. Welcome to Salerno Barracks.’
Alice shook his hand. ‘Thank you Mr Wilkes. I’m sure we’ll be very happy here.’ And she meant it; she was certain of it.
Mr Wilkes departed, leaving Alice to explore the rest of the house and to choose a bedroom for her daughter, Megan. With six rooms other than the master bedroom, Alice hardly knew where to begin, but with only two weeks before Megan came home from school for the Easter holidays, she had set herself a deadline to have the house straight by then.
Down the road, in a much smaller quarter that had a number rather than a name, three women were watching their small children play with Duplo bricks and animals, while they drank tea.
Debbie Greenwood, plump, dark and pretty, leant forward to right a drinking beaker before juice leaked on to her carpet and said, ‘So she’s here then. Do either of you know what she’s like?’
‘Never met her,’ said Louise. ‘Somehow our paths never crossed.’ She set her mug down on a coaster and pushed her shoulder-length blonde hair behind her ears. ‘But I’ve heard things.’
‘Tell,’ said Josie.
Louise leaned forward slightly and said, ‘Well, it is only gossip …’