A Regimental Affair (23 page)

As she crossed the floor, she wondered why her carpet looked as if someone had been indulging in a spot of light pruning and leaf sweeping while she’d been asleep, but in her delicate state of health it was far too hard a question to address. Tucked under her duvet again she took a couple of pills, washed them down with water and tried to remember the night before. It was all pretty clear up to the point where she had run into Colonel Bob in the kitchen. After that …no, a blank. She racked her brains. She must be able to remember something, surely. Scarily blank. What had she done? Oh God, please don’t let it be something embarrassing. Still a blank. She was going to have to ring Debbie to check what did happen. Always assuming Debbie could remember. She’d been pretty far gone too.

Mercifully, the mess was deathly quiet. Usually in the morning of any given day at any time of the year, the air throbbed with the sound of half a dozen different stereo systems competing for supremacy.
So there
are
some advantages to being the only person left in the building
, thought Ginny weakly. She contemplated putting her own radio on but even that seemed too much effort. Then, as she lay there, sleep overtook her and gave her some respite from her churning stomach and pounding temples.

She became dimly aware of a voice invading her dream.

‘Come on, you slug,’ a sergeant major was yelling at her. Ginny tried and tried to climb the six-foot wall but the silvery slug-slime that covered it meant she couldn’t get a grip.

‘Come on, you slug.’ She was being shouted at louder but it was no good. ‘Oi, Ginny, wake up!’

Ginny opened her eyes and blinked against the sudden brightness. ‘Debbie?’ Where had the sergeant major gone? For a second she was completely confused. Then consciousness became complete. ‘Debbie. You woke me up.’

‘Oh, well done, Einstein. It was like raising the dead. I’m not surprised, though.’

‘Ah.’ Ginny winced as she tried to sit up. It hurt. She made a mental note to make no sudden movements. Her head wasn’t up to anything other than complete immobility.

‘You may very well say “ah”.’

‘Ah,’ said Ginny again, wishing Debbie would moderate her voice a little.

‘And how are we feeling today?’

‘I am feeling bloody awful if you must know, but I suspect
you
are feeling disgustingly OK.’

‘I wouldn’t go as far as that,’ said Debbie, sitting down on the end of Ginny’s bed. ‘But I bet I’m feeling better than you.’

‘That wouldn’t be hard,’ muttered Ginny.

‘So I’m here to get you dressed, march you round to Taz’s to apologise and then take you back to mine for lunch, TLC and a hair of the dog.’

At the word “apologise”, Ginny’s eyes widened in horror. ‘Apologise?’ she repeated. ‘Oh God.’ She stared at Debbie and then shut her eyes again as if that would make everything better. ‘What did I do?’

‘Well, after nearly flooding her scullery with tears …’

‘I remember that bit.’

‘Well, after the tears, you livened up …’

‘Go on.’ Her brain cells began to connect.

‘And you suggested everyone should dance.’

‘Yes.’ Ginny nodded her head weakly as a vague memory stirred.

‘Which seemed a good idea at the time.’

‘Yes.’ It
had
seemed like a good idea. She remembered that bit now.

‘So you chose one of Taz’s compilation CDs.’

‘Yes.’ Had she?

‘Do you remember which one?’

‘No.’ Not a clue.

‘Does
Best Film Themes of the Nineties
ring any bells?’

‘It should, shouldn’t it?’ She opened her eyes as if a glimpse of Debbie’s face would give her inspiration.

‘The theme to
The Full Monty
?’

‘Oh my God, I didn’t. Tell me I didn’t. Please. Oh shit.’ Ginny closed her eyes again and swayed back on to her pillow.

‘No, actually you didn’t.’ Debbie was killing herself laughing. Ginny’s eyes snapped open and they had a dangerous glint in them. ‘But it was close,’ added Debbie hastily. ‘It was only because Richard and I got to you before you got your clothes off that you didn’t.’

‘And that was all I did?’

‘Well …’

Ginny sighed and looked exasperated. ‘Look, Debbie. I feel absolutely shite. I haven’t the strength for games. Please tell me the worst, put me out of my misery and then I can get up and eat humble pie for a week.’

‘You didn’t want to leave but Richard and I thought it best. So you gave us a bit of trouble when we got you out of the house.’

‘What sort of trouble?’

‘You clung to some of the shrubs in Taz’s garden.’

‘That explains the leaves.’

‘What?’ It was Debbie’s turn to be confused.

‘Look,’ Ginny gestured at the carpet by the basin. ‘I couldn’t think where all those leaves had come from.’

‘From Taz’s prize shrubs, that’s where. It’ll be a wonder if some of them recover.’

‘Sounds like a big apology. So how many witnesses were there to this carry on?’

‘Not many. I mean as far as
The Full Monty
was concerned I don’t think many people realised how close you got to stripping. I don’t think they were paying much attention, and as for the fracas in the bushes – it was just me, Richard, Taz and a couple of people from the village.’

‘Not Bob?’

‘No.’

Ginny sighed thankfully.

‘Why should you care if Bob witnessed it?’

‘I don’t really.’

Debbie peered at her. ‘You don’t still hold out hope that you and he …?’

‘No,’ said Ginny sharply. ‘No I don’t. And don’t suggest for a minute I do.’ But even to her own ears she sounded remarkably unconvincing.

Debbie gave her a long hard look. ‘Whatever you say. I’ll wait for you in the ante-room. See you in a few minutes.’

Ginny rubbed her face and braced herself to get out of bed as Debbie closed the door behind her. She looked at her watch. Nearly midday. Perhaps some lunch at Debbie’s would make her feel better. That was something to look forward to, but she didn’t fancy her first task of the new year, which was to make amends with Taz.

Ginny wasn’t too sure what the garden had looked like before her ‘ministrations’ but Debbie assured her that it had looked a great deal better than it did after.

‘Honestly, it was so neat and clipped and tidy and now her hedges look as though they’ve had someone dragged through them backwards.’

‘Ha bloody ha,’ said Ginny, entirely without humour as she rang the doorbell.

Taz answered. She was still in her dressing gown.

‘Oh God. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you out of bed,’ blurted Ginny.

‘You didn’t. Since when has a single mother ever had a lie-in till gone midday? Come in, come in.’

‘No. We won’t stop. Honestly.’

‘Why? I’ve got a big pot of coffee made, the house is almost straight and you’re not interrupting anything. I can’t see what the problem is. Unless you don’t like my company?’

‘No,’ said Ginny and Debbie in unison. ‘No, it’s not that,’ continued Ginny. ‘It’s just I only came round to apologise, not to take up any of your day.’

‘Don’t be silly. Come in.’

‘OK then,’ said Debbie. ‘But we won’t stop for long. Just a quick cuppa.’

They stepped over the threshold into a house that was clean, swept and didn’t smell of cigarette smoke or alcohol or give any indication that a big, boozy party had been held in it the night before.

‘But this is amazing,’ exclaimed Ginny, impressed.

‘How have you done it?’ asked Debbie.

‘A team of leprechauns came in while I was sleeping,’ said Taz. ‘No, Amelia had me up at five, so once I had got her sorted there wasn’t much point in going back to bed so I cracked on. To be honest it was only a question of filling and emptying the dishwasher a few times and pushing a hoover around.

‘Oh yeah,’ said Debbie. ‘Go on, admit it. You’ve been working like a navvy.’

‘No.’ Taz laughed. ‘Come on, coffee.’

They followed her into the kitchen where the only evidence of the previous night’s party were several cardboard boxes filled to the brim with empty bottles and a couple of black plastic sacks bulging with rubbish.

By the big pine kitchen table Amelia sat patiently in her high chair happily playing with some pasta shapes.

‘Sorry about the mess,’ said Taz as she reached into a cupboard for some mugs. ‘I’m going to take it all out to the garage when I’m dressed, then that’ll be the house done.’

Ginny and Debbie exchanged looks. She called a couple of boxes of bottles and some full bin bags a mess? This woman was in a different league to most members of their sex. Most of the women they knew would still be in bed after such a monumental party, not having got to bed until the last guest left, and any tidying up would certainly wait until the next day or possibly the day after.

Before she poured the coffee, Taz gave Amelia a biscuit and a beaker of juice then turned her attention to her guests.

‘How do you do it?’ said Debbie in admiration. ‘You throw a party for the whole area, you’ve cleared up before lunch, your daughter is a paragon and I feel totally inadequate.’

‘I’m lucky with Amelia, I grant you. She’s just a naturally placid child. Give her a few bits to play with and she’s happy for ages. In a minute I’ll give her some lunch and while she’s having her afternoon nap I promise you I’m going to crash out too.’

‘Well, that’s something. I was afraid I was in the company of a robot. How much sleep did you have last night?’

‘A couple of hours.’

‘Is that all?’ shrieked Ginny, and immediately regretted her outburst as her head exploded with a bolt of pain behind her eyes. Taz caught the wince of pain that flickered across her brow. She dished out coffee. Gratefully Ginny took a slurp, then she squared her shoulders a little and looked at Taz across the table. ‘Taz, I gather from what Debbie says that I was far from the perfect guest last night.’

‘Not at all,’ said Taz. ‘You were fantastic fun.’

‘Yeah right. Sobbing in your kitchen, trying to strip and then trashing your garden.’

‘I’m the only one apart from Debbie who knows about your tears, so you hardly made an exhibition of yourself. All very discreetly handled. As for the strip – you didn’t. So what’s to apologise for there? And my garden? Plants grow. By spring it’ll all be as it was before without me even having to raise a finger.’

‘But none of it should have happened – or got close to happening. So I do apologise. OK?’

Taz looked at her visitor and smiled. ‘OK. I’ll accept your apology, on one condition.’

‘What’s that?’ Ginny had a momentary worry that Taz might expect her to repay her by doing some gardening or something. And she didn’t know one end of a pair of secateurs from the other.

‘Come and have lunch with me.’

‘What?’ Ginny was a little taken aback. Surely if anyone was issuing lunch invites it should be her. Then she realised how bad-mannered her response had been. ‘Sorry, but I wasn’t expecting that. It should be me giving you lunch.’

‘But where is there to eat round here? And don’t tell me the officers’ mess, because I know it’s pretty well shut till the regiment comes back off leave.’

‘There’s always the village pub.’

‘Have you eaten there?’

Ginny had to admit she hadn’t; drunk there certainly, but not eaten.

‘Well don’t, that’s my advice.’ Taz looked at Ginny expectantly. ‘So you’ll come?’

‘Yes, thanks. It’s so kind of you.’ And she made a mental note to bring something really nice for both her and Amelia to show how much she appreciated Taz’s kindness.

Taz suddenly yawned hugely. She looked at her visitors, horror-struck. ‘I am
so
sorry. How rude!’

‘No, we’ve stayed too long,’ said Debbie, draining her coffee and standing up. ‘It’s us who are rude. Come on, Ginny, time to go.’ And before Taz had time to protest or to stop them, Debbie had shepherded Ginny out of the kitchen and through the front door.

They were at the end of the path when the door opened again and Taz yelled to Ginny, ‘Saturday at twelve. It’s just us, so come as scruffy as you like.’

‘Thanks,’ called Ginny back. ‘I’ll look forward to it.’

The phone in the officers’ mess was ringing off the hook when Ginny finally got back from Richard and Debbie’s that evening. She thought quite hard about answering it because she didn’t think it was very likely to be for her. Most people she knew phoned her on her mobile and she couldn’t be bothered to hunt around for a pencil and paper to take a message for one of her absent colleagues. But then a sense of duty took over. She was glad it did.

‘Ginny. It’s Netta. Where on earth have you been?’

‘Out, why?’

‘I couldn’t get hold of you.’

Even at a distance of several hundred miles Ginny could hear the note of exasperation in her sister’s voice. ‘So what’s wrong with my mobile if you wanted me so urgently?’

‘It’s switched off.’

‘Is it?’ Ginny delved into her handbag to discover her sister was right. ‘Sorry,’ she mumbled into the handset.

‘I was ringing to wish you a happy New Year. I tried to ring you last night but couldn’t get you then either.’ Then Netta added suspiciously, ‘Have you only just got in from celebrating?’

‘No I haven’t. Anyway, what’s it to you if I have?’

‘Jealousy, that’s what,’ replied Netta with a laugh. ‘I love the Isles of Scilly but trust me, you don’t move here for the social life.’

‘Or the shopping.’

‘No. But out of the tripper season I can go out and leave my front door open and the kids wander around the farm or play on the beaches with their friends in complete safety, so there are some advantages. And I wouldn’t swap it for the world.’

‘So, how’s the new sprog?’

‘Bloody late, that’s what, but I think it’ll be any moment now.’

‘I thought it was due around Christmas.’

‘It was, but apparently it’s changed its mind. Anyway, how are you, apart from, I assume, hung over?’

‘I’d like to be all upbeat and tell you how fantastic things are but frankly it’s all going to rat shit.’

‘You shouldn’t have got involved with Bob in the first place,’ said Netta sternly.

‘You can’t choose who you fall in love with.’