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Authors: Fiona Field

Civvy Street (19 page)

BOOK: Civvy Street
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Still, she didn’t have time to worry about her kids; there was a mountain of work to be done. She drew the pile of chits, signed the previous night by officers who had bought drinks in the bar, towards her and began to go through them, adding up the drinks bought and putting the totals on the correct mess bills. Like many jobs that Scottie had taught her, it all seemed straightforward while he’d been there at her elbow but now she was on her own she kept finding she had to check and double-check, that she missed details, or entered figures in the wrong columns or did something that meant she didn’t get it right first time. And it didn’t help that she was subject to constant interruptions; the mess staff wanting keys to various store cupboards or asking her to approve orders for food or other stocks, or the phone ringing... By elevenses Susie’s head was ready to explode. She took the phone off the hook and shut the door. Just five minutes, that was all she wanted, five minutes to finish the accounts so she could move onto the next job, the next job out of about thirty she ought to get through today or she’d still be at her desk come midnight. She got stuck in.

Seconds later there was a knock on the door.

‘Yes!’

‘Sorry, Susie...’

It was Maddy. Susie tried to look welcoming but this was the last sodding straw. She did not need a social call right now.

‘Is this a bad time? It’s just Nathan is playing at a friend’s house and Rose fell asleep on the walk here,’ she indicated the pushchair parked in the hall behind her, ‘and I thought I’d grab a word with you while I’ve got the chance. Is that OK?’

‘No, no, Mrs Fanshaw, what can I do for you?’ The phone whistled an alarm to indicate it was off the hook and Susie silenced it by replacing the receiver.

‘Mrs Fanshaw? What’s this all about, Susie?’

Susie took a deep breath. ‘It’s protocol. I agreed with your husband, Mrs Fanshaw, that as a mess employee, I ought to treat the mess members with the same deference as Sergeant McManners did. In the mess, this is how it must work.’

‘What? But that’s daft.’

‘It’s appropriate.’ God, how often had she used that phrase recently?

‘Really?’

Susie nodded. ‘It’s for the best.’

Maddy looked unconvinced. ‘If you say so. Anyway, I came to discuss the wives’ coffee morning, next week.’

‘Of course.’ Susie reached up to the files stacked on the shelf above the desk and got out the relevant one. Not that she needed to open it – she’d run more officers’ wives coffee mornings in the mess than Maddy had had proverbial hot dinners. ‘What do you want to know?’

Maddy looked a little hesitant. ‘So I just need to check the arrangements... The mess can let us have the ante-room from ten o’clock onwards and there’ll be a crèche set up in the bar for the toddlers which is being run by a couple of the mothers.’ Susie nodded. ‘And the budget is two pounds a head to cover tea, coffee and cake plus fifty pence for each child’s refreshments of juice and biscuits and a fee of a pound per child for the crèche to cover costs.’

‘That’s the way it usually works, Mrs Fanshaw.’

‘When do you need numbers?’

‘Two days before is ample. As long as the catering staff have enough time to bake the cakes.’

‘Cakes... yes...’

‘What sort would you like?’

Again Maddy hesitated.

Susie stepped in. ‘I would suggest a coffee and walnut, a lemon drizzle and a Victoria sponge – that’s assuming there’ll be about thirty attendees.’

‘Yes, yes, that sounds perfect.’

‘I’ll tell the chef.’

‘Thank you. Susie—’

‘I think we’d better stick to Mrs Collins here.’

Maddy shook her head. ‘Susie... Mrs Collins...’ Maddy shut her eyes and shook her head again. ‘You’re my friend, I can’t do this.’

‘When I’m at work you are just going to have to try. It’s part of the deal. Mrs Fanshaw, you, of all people, know how the army is.’

‘Yes, I see. It’s just so odd... so formal.’

‘We’ll all get used to it in time.’

‘I suppose. Look, Su— Mrs Collins, I have to ask because I really,
really
, need some advice but how did you cope as the PMC’s wife? It’s a nightmare. I haven’t a clue what to do or where to start. May I come and talk to you one evening?’

‘Maybe it would be better if I came to your house. Easier for you.’ Susie didn’t want Maddy to be reminded of how grim the estate was, how low she’d sunk. ‘Anyway, off duty I think we can allow ourselves a little less formality. Out of this office, out of the mess we can all still be friends.’

‘Oh, please.’ Maddy looked pathetically grateful.

‘Not this week though. I’m too busy running to catch up and getting my head around the job, but soon, I promise.’ Susie smiled. Her phone rang and she put her hand out to lift the receiver.

‘I’ve held you up enough. Bye.’ And Maddy left, leaving Susie still wondering how she was going to get away on time.

Chapter 19

At the end of the day, with her brain still feeling fried from everything she’d had to deal with, Susie arrived at Caro’s to pick up her daughters.

‘God,’ said Caro as she opened the door, ‘if I didn’t know better I’d say you were in need of a strong drink.’

Susie sighed heavily. ‘There are occasions when not hitting the gin bottle is very difficult indeed. And today is one of them.’

‘How is the new job?’ Caro stepped back from the doorstep and held the door wide to allow Susie into her house.

‘I know I’ll get used to it and I know it isn’t terribly complicated but there is a lot to get my head round. And the fact that I am constantly interrupted by the mess members, or the staff, or the phone or something doesn’t make life easy.’

‘I can imagine. Look, the girls are watching a DVD with Josh and Ollie and it hasn’t quite finished yet. Do you fancy a cuppa rather than drag them away before the end?’ Caro looked at her watch. ‘It can’t have more than about thirty minutes to go, if that.’

In reality Susie just wanted to get home, get supper on and then, as soon as the family had been fed, get to bed. She hadn’t felt this knackered in a very long time. However, she knew that dragging the twins away mid-film was probably unwise. ‘Go on, then, that’d be lovely.’

She followed Caro into the kitchen and wearily plumped down on a chair while Caro bustled about getting out the tea bags and putting the kettle on.

‘And how is Mike’s job?’ asked Caro.

‘All right, I think.’

‘What is it that he does?’

‘He’s emergency planning officer.’

Caro mashed the tea bags in a couple of mugs and then passed one of them to Susie. ‘It sounds important.’

Susie shook her head. ‘I think it’s all a bit fiction-factory stuff. You know, imagining the worst that could happen, multiplying it by a factor of ten and then stopping people running around like headless chickens if the worst
does
happen by running exercises and having...’ Susie held up both hands and dipped both index fingers, ‘...a Plan of Action.’

Caro giggled. ‘I am sure there is more to it than that.’

‘Oh, there is.’ Susie assumed a serious face. ‘He’s in charge of sandbags too.’

‘OIC sandbags?’ Caro snorted with laughter.

‘Exactly. OIC sandbags, only don’t tell Mike I said that.’

‘Why not, Mummy?’

Susie spun round on her seat so fast she slopped her tea. ‘Ella.’ She felt her face flare. She shouldn’t have said what she had about Mike’s job; he’d be so hurt if he thought she was taking the piss out of it.

‘Why not, Mummy?’ repeated Ella.

Susie tried to compose herself. ‘Mummy was just being a bit silly. If there’s a flood or a big crash or any sort of disaster, Daddy will be in charge of saving people’s lives. It’s a really important job.’

‘Really?’ Ella just stared at her, unblinking. She clearly didn’t want to believe her mother.

Susie wondered whether she ought to make Ella promise not to tell but decided that the more she made an issue of it, the greater the likelihood of Ella doing something to spite her. With luck, if she just laughed it off, it would all be forgotten.

‘So, is the film finished, sweetie?’

But Ella looked away from her and said, ‘Please, Caro, may I have a glass of water?’

‘Of course, Ella.’ Caro got the water and handed it to her, then Ella disappeared but not before she’d given her mother another long stare.

‘Anyway,’ said Caro, apparently oblivious to the significance of the exchange between Susie and her daughter, ‘with both you and Mike in work you must be almost back to where you were before... well, before Mike lost his job.’

Susie pursed her lips. ‘Sort of.’

Caro raised her eyebrows. ‘Sort of?’

Susie shook her head. ‘I shouldn’t be telling you this but our finances were a bit rocky before Mike’s redundancy so... let’s just say, him losing his job really didn’t help matters. And that had all sorts of knock-on effects which means that the girls aren’t happy.’ She glanced towards the door and lowered her voice. ‘They don’t like the house, the estate, the fact I’m working so they need to come to you... To be honest, Caro, they’re making life bloody awful. It’s hell. So, having them kick off on top of everything else means that life isn’t exactly peachy at the moment.’

‘Oh, Susie. I had no idea.’

No, well... why should you.’ She sighed. ‘It’s not as if it’s the girls’ fault either. It’s probably hormones as well as the change of status and it’s just unfortunate that it’s all come at once. It’ll get better. Once we get our finances sorted we can get a bigger mortgage and move into a nice house and eventually the girls will get used to the idea they’re not spoilt little public school kids any more and accept that going to a comp isn’t all bad.’ Susie leant across the table. ‘Caro, they haven’t even started at Winterspring Comp and they’ve made up their minds that they hate it. I wish they’d go with open minds and give it a chance.’

Caro sighed. ‘Well, I’ll do what I can to help over the next couple of weeks; you know, send positive vibes to them about state schools, tell them how much I enjoyed going to my local high school and it didn’t wreck my life.’

‘Would you?’ Susie felt a rush of gratitude. ‘The trouble is that Mike went to Radley and I went to a minor public school and they seem to think that
not
going to a fee-paying school is some sort of ghastly social stigma that’ll blight them for life and ruin their prospects. I keep trying to tell them that as long as they work hard they’ll have just the same chances as anyone else but, of course, these days, they don’t believe a word I say.’

‘Unless,’ said Caro, in a very low voice, ‘it’s something they want to believe – like you saying Mike is OIC sandbags.’

*

The summer continued and the weather, for once, was unbelievably good with hot days filled with sunshine even as August finished and September began. The community centre came on in leaps and bounds, Susie got to grips with her new job and life seemed to settle down for everyone. Despite the fact that she and Caro barely spoke to each other – and even then it was in cool but polite monosyllables – Maddy began to feel more comfortable about being the wife of the OC of B Company as well as being the wife of the president of the mess committee. And, of course, she discovered that having the wise hand of Susie – sorry, Mrs Collins – in the mess made life a great deal easier. Susie – she just could
not
think of her old friend in any other terms – Susie had been there, done it and got the T-shirt and there wasn’t much she didn’t know about the protocols of ladies’ dinner nights or the flower rota or charity coffee mornings so Maddy was able to relax knowing that advice was always on hand. Or at least, she could relax on
that
front. Sadly, Camilla Rayner’s relentless demands on Maddy’s time and patience meant that she seemed to be run ragged in every other department.

‘What’s for lunch?’ asked Seb one swelteringly hot day, as he came into the kitchen.

Maddy looked up from her laptop. She was working in the kitchen while Rose was in the playpen and Nathan watched
Peppa Pig...
again.

‘How the hell should I know?’ she snapped. She was too hot, she was fed up and she felt under ridiculous pressure to type up some minutes for Camilla before the end of the day.

Seb looked hurt. ‘Sorry I asked,’ he muttered.

Maddy felt contrite. ‘No,
I’m s
orry. It’s just Camilla’s been on my back this morning and I’ve had it up to here.’ She put her hand up to her eyebrows. ‘And I really wanted to take the kids out for a nice walk this afternoon, let Nate burn off some energy, and I just can’t see it happening.’

‘Tell her where to get off,’ said Seb.

‘Oh yeah?’ Maddy raised her eyebrows. ‘And have her complain to Jack and then you get a crappy confidential report and your chances of going to Staff College go right down the loo.’

Seb shrugged. ‘Going to Staff College isn’t the be-all and end-all.’

‘Really? Mike didn’t go and look what happened to him.’

‘I’m not Mike.’

Which was true but Maddy, along with the rest of the patch, had wondered if Susie’s battle with drink might have played a part in Mike’s sudden and unexpected departure from the army. Of course, Mike had had problems in that department too but Susie’s had been rather more public. Wives were
told
that their actions didn’t affect their husband’s careers but most of them didn’t completely believe it. And Maddy certainly didn’t want to test things to breaking point, which she just might if she told Camilla Rayner where she could shove the minutes of the welfare committee.

Maddy hit save and closed her laptop. ‘Right, lunch.’

‘No,’ said Seb, ‘I can rustle something up. Have the kids been fed?’

Maddy nodded. ‘How about a cold chicken and lettuce sandwich? There’s some of Sunday’s roast left over.’ She got up and went to the fridge. She pulled out the remains of a chicken and some salad leaves.

‘Sounds perfect.’

‘And I got a tub of ice cream from the Spar.’

‘Pudding? How come?’

‘The kids get so cranky when they get too hot and there’s only so much iced water they’re prepared to drink.’

BOOK: Civvy Street
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