Civvy Street (33 page)

‘Really?’ said Maddy. ‘Who’s his source?’

‘He was duty officer again last night.’

‘Again?’

‘He got a bunch of extras.’

‘More extras?’

‘Mads, the CO and RSM give them out for almost anything these days. Anything at all.’

Maddy shook her head. ‘Poor Will.’

‘Anyway, the poor old duty clerk was called in to open up battalion HQ for the CO and when Will went to do the midnight check on the guardroom he saw the light on and went to investigate. The poor old duty clerk was having to type up a bunch of orders for
today
.’

‘Bugger,’ muttered Maddy.

‘Bugger, bugger, bugger,’ crowed Nathan, delighted by a new word.

Maddy rolled her eyes. ‘Sorry,’ she said to no one in particular.

‘Precisely,’ said Seb. ‘So that’s the weekend fu— ruined.’

‘Right,’ said Sam, ‘I’d better get dressed and get down to the workshop. I don’t suppose Will knows when we’re all going to get crashed out?’

‘No, the duty clerk said it would be more than his life was worth to pass that on. And knowing how Rayner likes to behave as if he were Hitler, no doubt if he found out what the clerk has already let slip, he’d have the poor guy shot at dawn.’

Seb and Sam both disappeared to get themselves over to the barracks and to do as much as possible – while not appearing to be doing anything – to prepare for the CO’s surprise crash-out.

‘And don’t expect us back for lunch,’ said Seb as he left the dining room. ‘If we haven’t been called out by then we’ll grab something in the mess.’

Which left Luke, Maddy and the kids and the remains of breakfast.

‘Tell you what,’ said Luke.

‘What?’ said Maddy helping herself to a slice of toast.

‘Why don’t I treat you and the nippers to a pub lunch?’

‘You can’t do that, you’re my guest.’

‘I think I can. Call it a thank-you present for having me and Sam to stay.’

‘But it’s been lovely.’ Maddy finished buttering the slice, cut it into fingers and gave them to the children.

‘It certainly has,’ said Luke with feeling. ‘And it might have been lovelier if Rayner hadn’t stuck his oar in.’

‘That’s Rayner for you.’

‘So, after we’ve finished breakfast and I’ve helped you clear up...’ Luke saw the look on Maddy’s face. ‘No, no arguments, this is how today is going to roll. After that, I shall Google some nice pubs in the area – ones that are properly child friendly – and we’ll treat ourselves to a slap-up lunch.’

‘OK,’ said Maddy, grinning. ‘Sounds like a plan.’

*

A couple of hours later Maddy loaded the kids into her car and they set off, the windscreen wipers flick-flacking as they drove out of the garrison. Luke programmed the satnav as she backed out of the drive and ordered her to follow it.

‘That way it’ll all be a surprise.’

‘I like surprises,’ said Maddy. ‘Just not the sort that Rayner springs.’

‘No. I don’t think you’re alone there.’

Fifteen minutes after that, Maddy was driving through the little village of Ashton-cum-Bavant.

‘Oh my God,’ she said as she drove past the village green. ‘So that’s the house.’

‘What house?’

Maddy stopped the car and pointed through the rain-flecked glass to a beautiful three-storey Georgian house with a shingle tied to its ornate, wrought-iron fence declaring it to be ‘Sold STC’.

‘A mate of Seb’s has just bought that place.’

‘Bloody hell,’ said Luke. ‘How does he make his cash? Robbing banks?’

‘Sort of – his dad runs one. Ever heard of Forster’s Bank?’

Luke whistled. ‘I’m impressed.’

‘I’m jealous,’ admitted Maddy.

‘It’d be hell to heat. Think of the bills.’

Maddy laughed. ‘Yeah, I’d forgotten that. Puts you right off it, doesn’t it.’

She turned the key in the ignition and set off again following the directions on the satnav but when she got to the next junction there was a sign:
Road closed. Flooding.

She stopped and pulled on the handbrake. ‘OK, which way now?’

‘Just keep going straight on, the satnav will recalculate. And if it doesn’t, well, maybe we can find another pub. There doesn’t seem to be a shortage around here.’

‘No, although whether we’ll find one as appropriate as your carefully researched child-friendly one, I don’t know.’

‘And we have to hope the pub’s open. It’s called the Ferryman so it suggests it’s by the river and it might have trouble with floods too.’

But the other way to the pub was fine and the car park was surprisingly empty for a Saturday lunchtime.

‘I suppose people coming from Salisbury might be put off by the road closure. Still, it’s an ill wind and all that,’ said Luke, cheerfully.

Maddy looked at the Bavant river racing past the far end of the car park – a brown maelstrom, lapping right at the top of the bank – and wondered how often this pub got flooded. It wouldn’t, she thought, take much more rain to make this place go under, and it was still coming down in buckets with no sign of it letting up in the near future.

*

As Maddy, Luke and the children were settling down at their table in the pub and starting to peruse the menu, Seb and his sergeant major were in B Company stores checking the equipment that company HQ would need out in the field when the CSM’s phone rang.

‘’Scuse me, boss,’ said Sergeant Major Riley, pulling his mobile out of his pocket.

Seb listened to him take the message and then end the call.

‘Flash message from the CO,’ said the sergeant major. ‘All personnel to be on parade with all kit and vehicles as soon as possible. You were right about the exercise being called for today. And the stopwatch is running. Apparently there is an “optimum time”.’

‘And no doubt there’ll be sanctions if we don’t hit the mark.’

The CSM nodded. ‘Extras all round, no doubt.’

‘Any idea what the “optimum time” is?’

‘Nope, not a Scooby, sorry, sir.’

‘Never mind. We’d better start the cascade. You ring the company duty clerk; I’ll ring the platoon commanders. Let’s see if B Company can be first to be ready. I’ll stay here till the CQMS gets here to issue the kit and I’ll meet you at the vehicle garages in an hour.’

‘Sir.’

Seb got ringing, setting off a cascade of calls that would have everyone back in barracks as soon as possible. Luckily the personnel he had to ring were, like him, pretty much expecting the call and picked up instantly and, with everyone confined to barracks, when CQMS arrived at the stores and Seb could make his way to his quarter to collect his Bergen the entire barracks was already a scene of manic activity. And as a bit of a bonus the rain had eased off slightly so the soldiers weren’t getting completely soaked.

Seb let himself into the empty house, sent a quick text to Maddy telling her what was going on and warning her that he and Sam might not back for supper, then he changed into his multicam, picked up his kit and raced back to the barracks.

His sergeant major was several minutes behind him but his excuse was more than valid.

‘I took the liberty of getting your personal weapon out of the armoury,’ he said, passing Seb his gun. ‘Stupid for both of us to have to queue up.’

‘Thanks,’ said Seb, shoving it in its holster and fastening it securely.

Soldiers were flooding into the garages and as his company arrived so the vehicles began to get moved out onto the hardstanding in front of the huge hangars; Land Rovers, support vehicles, trucks, all began to get deployed. The air was filled with the deafening roar of dozens of huge engines and was thick with the blue smog of diesel fumes. Trailers were hitched up and filled with jerrycans of fuel, rations and boxes of ammo but it was all happening in an orderly fashion. No headless chicken impressions – everyone knew exactly what they had to do and got on with it without fuss or preamble. Slowly the garages emptied and the parade square filled with orderly ranks of vehicles, kit and men. As Seb was driven onto the square in his Land Rover he saw the CO pacing along one edge of the vast open space, the threatened stopwatch in evidence in his right hand.

The rain had resumed again and, although the scene was impressive, there was, thought Seb, a slight air of dispirited resentment in the assembled troops; a sullenness. He knew the soldiers didn’t mind the idea of going out on exercise – it was the day job, after all. But having their weekend wrecked because the CO could bugger them about on a whim... that was something else.

Seb’s driver pulled on the handbrake of his vehicle and cut the engine. On either side other vehicles were lining up. He looked at his own company and judged they were about two-thirds present. He glanced at his watch; just over an hour and a half since the original call. Not bad, not bad at all. Of course, if the last troops were hideously slow to arrive it could yet go to rat-shit, but assuming things went to plan, B Company was on course to acquit itself very well.

‘I’ve got a bet going, sir,’ said Seb’s driver. ‘Me and my mates reckon that whatever time we post getting everyone on the square and ready to deploy, the CO will tell us we’re no good. We could be there in record time and he’ll still tell us we’re shit.’

‘Hmm,’ said Seb. ‘I couldn’t possibly comment.’

‘Just saying, sir, that’s all.’

‘Maybe you shouldn’t, Evans.’

‘Well... we’ll see, shan’t we, sir,’ said Evans cheerfully, not the least concerned by Seb’s implied criticism of his view.

Seb climbed out of his vehicle and leaving the door open he stood on the sill to give himself an extra foot of height in order to survey the scene. It was impressive. Almost a whole battalion of men and machines. He wouldn’t want to have to face this lot as the enemy.

‘Hi, Seb.’

He glanced down from his vantage point. ‘Sam. This is a rotten way to spend a weekend with your fiancé.’

She shrugged. ‘Tell me about it. The exigencies of service,’ she said, quoting the army’s get-out clause. ‘Army speak for “Don’t bitch if you get mucked about”.’

Seb laughed. ‘Exactly.’

‘I had a call from Luke to say he and Maddy have taken the kids out for a pub lunch. It’s OK for some,’ she added with a hint of bitterness. ‘Do you think Maddy will be all right about him staying on at yours if we do end up deploying?’

‘Of
course
she will. I’ve already texted her warning her that you and I mightn’t be back for supper. I expect she’ll be glad to have some company rather than facing a Saturday evening on her own.’

Sam didn’t look completely convinced. ‘But she hardly knows Luke.’ She shrugged. ‘I just feel it’s a bit of an imposition.’

Seb glanced at his watch. ‘Look, supposing I gave Maddy a quick call to make sure. I’m positive she’d be horrified if she knew you and Luke felt awkward about this.’

He called Maddy and had a brief conversation.

‘As I suspected. And quite apart from anything else, she’s got a fridge full of food that needs eating and she’s relying on Luke to do his best to stop it from going to waste.’

Sam smiled at him. ‘Aw, Maddy is a sweetie and that’s great.’ She sighed and looked at the leaden sky. ‘A buggered-up weekend and rain – just wonderful.’

Ten minutes later Seb’s CSM reported that all of B Company was present and correct and fifteen minutes after that the RSM’s stentorian voice silenced the gathered troops. The CO climbed onto the saluting base by the flagpole at the edge of the square.

‘Two hours and ten minutes,’ he said, brandishing his stopwatch. ‘Two hours and ten minutes,’ he repeated.

Not bad, thought Seb. Evans was about to be proved wrong.

‘Some of you may think that’s acceptable.’

Well... thought Seb.

‘Let me tell you it isn’t. It’s a bloody disgrace. Call yourselves professional soldiers? Well, you’re not. You are a shambles. Had you managed to be ready for deployment in under two hours I would have stood you down until Monday but as it is it seems to me you need all the training you can get. So we are moving out to the ranges right now. I will be holding a CO’s O Group at eighteen hundred hours for company commanders and further orders will be issued then. Right then, move out.’

Seb opened the passenger door and climbed in. His driver looked at him.

‘Don’t say a word,’ said Seb.

‘No, sir. Of course not, sir. Wouldn’t dream of it.’

And as the vast convoy of vehicles formed up and began to move off the parade square towards the ranges the heavens opened and the rain began to sheet down.

Just brilliant, thought Seb, just fucking brilliant.

At Winterspring Ducis the weekend for the Collins family wasn’t going any better than Seb’s, although they, at least, had the advantage of being indoors and not stuck out in the drizzle. But that was the
only
good thing they had going for them, as the atmosphere in the house seethed with the twins’ resentment at being deprived of their phones and iPads. In turn, their bad humour rubbed off on their parents and in a small house with only one living room, everyone was snapping and sniping at everyone else.

Mike retreated behind the paper and Susie was in the kitchen with the ironing while the girls slobbed on the sofa watching weekend TV.

‘Can’t you turn that rubbish off?’ moaned Mike, turning the pages of his paper noisily.

‘Like we’ve got anything else to do,’ snapped Katie. ‘We can’t exactly chat to our friends,’ she added, pointedly.

‘Besides, we like
Saturday Kitchen
,’ said Ella.

‘So why do you never help out in ours?’

‘Because Mum listens to Radio 4, which is lame,’ said Katie.

‘It wouldn’t hurt you to try and improve your minds instead of watching stuff designed for the lowest common denominator.’

Ella rolled her eyes and reached for the remote. She pressed the volume control and turned the sound up a notch.

Mike flung his paper on the floor and lunged for the remote, snatching it out of Ella’s hand before she realised his intent. He pressed the off button and the TV screen went blank.

‘You... you...’ Ella saw the look on her father’s face and didn’t continue with her plan to tell him what she thought of him
and
his parenting skills. ‘Come on, Katie.’