Civvy Street (35 page)

‘Want one, sir?’ called the squaddie overseeing the process.

Seb nodded. ‘I’ll get my mug.’ He walked round to the back of the Land Rover and opened his Bergen. He found his mug easily, packed where it always was in one of the side pockets. He trudged back across the sodden grass that was rapidly turning into a bog, feeling a certain amount of empathy with the soldiers on the Western Front. Not that he was being shelled and shot at...

He handed over his mug and the soldier slopped a dark beige liquid into it.

‘And it’s fresh milk, sir. We’ll be on condensed again tomorrow but we might as well make use of fresh rations while we have them.’ He held up a jam jar containing sugar and a teaspoon that had obviously been used to stir numerous cups already. Seb shook his head and slurped gratefully at his drink before walking off to find his platoon commanders and check the deployment of his soldiers before it got dark.

As he wandered round the company lines he sensed that his troops were far from happy. He tried to chivvy them along and cheer them up but they were having none of it. Eventually he turned to his sergeant major.

‘What’s the matter with them? I know the weather sucks but we’ve all been out in worse and they’re not usually this miserable.’

‘No... well.’

‘Sergeant Major?’

Riley shrugged. ‘Morale’s low across the battalion. You know how it’s been since...’

‘Since?’ prompted Seb.

‘Nothing, sir.’

‘Come on, man. Spit it out.’

‘Since the new CO came,’ mumbled Riley.

Seb nodded. ‘And the new RSM isn’t a bundle of laughs, is he.’

Riley shook his head. ‘At least Jenks had a sense of humour.’

‘What’s it like in the sergeants’ mess?’

‘You don’t want to know, sir. The wife won’t attend functions any more. She says the heart’s gone out of it, now Horrocks is in charge. He’s a right stickler for the rules.’

Seb was saddened. He remembered the time the warrant officers and sergeants had invited officers to Christmas drinks at their mess. Or rather, he remembered some of it. Quite a lot was a blur.

No, thought Seb, the new RSM was a cold fish and as for the CO... It seemed the least transgression got the soldiers on a fizzer. No wonder the troops were fed up and Seb didn’t really blame them.

Once he’d visited as many of his troops as possible – a word of encouragement here, a joke there – and checked everyone was pulling their weight and knuckling down to their allotted tasks, dusk had fallen – although given how gloomy the day had been it was hard to appreciate that the sun had just about set. He still had a couple of hours before he was due to present himself at the CO’s O Group at six that evening, his driver was digging their slit trench and there wasn’t much he could do now till he had to brief his troops once he’d got his orders from Colonel Rayner. Seb pulled up the collar on his multicam jacket and reached into an inside pocket. He checked the connectivity of his phone; two bars – it ought to be enough. He dialled home.

‘Hello, sweetie,’ he said when the phone was answered.

‘Erm... it’s Luke.’

‘Shit. Sorry, Luke. And I’m sorry your weekend with Sam has been trashed.’

‘Yeah, well... Maddy asked me to pick up the phone as she’s changing Rose’s nappy...’ There was a pause. ‘Did you hear that?’

‘No.’

‘Maddy was shouting she’ll be two ticks. Ah, here she comes.’

There was a pause then a muffled clatter as the phone changed hands.

‘Seb!’

‘I didn’t mean to disturb you.’

‘No, it’s fine.’

‘I’ve just called Luke “sweetie”.’

‘Bless. I expect he’ll get over it. I imagine, as he’s in the army, he’s been called worse. How’s things?’

‘Wet, cold, miserable.’

‘I can imagine. Still, you’re the one who joined the infantry not the Tank Regiment. Just think, you could be tucked up in a nice warm Challenger tank if you’d made a different choice.’

‘I tell you, leaving the Hertfordshires and joining some other lot is becoming increasingly tempting.’

‘But you’ll feel differently when the weather perks up. It can’t go on raining like this for ever.’

‘It’s not the weather that’s pissing me off, it’s Rayner. And he and his sidekick Horrocks have pissed off the troops too. I’ve never seen the lads so low. I know they’ve been a bit morose lately, that morale hasn’t been top-notch, but I put it down to the shit weather. Normally they perk up when they get to do proper soldiering like this. But not this time. If anything, being on exercise has made it worse.’

‘That’s a shame.’

‘It’s more than a shame, it’s not right. Anyway, you don’t need my problems. I just rang to have a quick chat, tell you we’ve all made it out to the ranges in one piece, that sort of stuff.’

‘That’s fine. Good to hear from you.’

‘And I need to ask you to say goodbye to Luke from me too. He’ll be long gone by the time we get back...’

‘He’s off after breakfast tomorrow – going to get an early start for the drive back to his barracks. He said that much as he loves our place there’s not much point in hanging around now Sam’s not here.’

‘And then you’ll be all on your own.’

‘Huh,’ said Maddy, ‘like I’m not used to that.’

‘I’ll try and make it up when I get back.’

‘Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry, I know it’s not your fault. But bloody Rayner could hardly have picked a worse weekend weather-wise, could he?’

*

As Mike’s car approached Ashton-cum-Bavant the weather deteriorated markedly. The tarmac was slick, the gutters at the sides of the road were swilling with water, any potholes were hubcap deep and the few pedestrians around were racing to find shelter. Despite the fact that it was supposed to be broad daylight his headlights had automatically come on. It was, thought Mike, the sort of day to be at home, in front of the fire, with the paper,
not
out in the back of beyond. And, instead of the papers for a bit of reading material, he had with him his laptop from work and a bunch of files. Being relatively new to the job Mike didn’t want to rely on his memory alone for all the emergency procedures so he’d dashed into the office on the way to the RV to collect anything he thought might be relevant or helpful. Well, that was his official excuse for wanting the files – the one he’d given the security chap manning the entrance to the council offices. His other reason for wanting the files was more Machiavellian; those months working for Rayner hadn’t been entirely wasted. Given the cavalier way Rob had dismissed all his assessments of the emergency planning budget, all his plans for flood defences, all his careful evaluations of weather patterns and risks, he did not want anything untoward to happen to any of those papers if any shit hit the fan later. If anyone was going to get the blame for lack of foresight it wasn’t going to be him. No way.

He drove on through the teeming rain, past the cricket pitch and the village green and then past a sensational country house with a ‘Sold’ sign planted in the front garden. He glanced at it – it was the sort of place he might have aspired to if his career hadn’t hit the buffers. All right, he admitted to himself, maybe not on that scale. But it was definitely the sort of place Susie had hankered after; he’d seen her flicking through copies of
Country Life
in the officers’ mess – in the days when she’d been a member, not an employee – and reading the details of the swanky houses that commanded a double page advert and which had ‘price on application’ written in the copy; code for ‘if you have to ask the price you can’t afford it’.

Mike sighed and turned his attention back to the road, driving on carefully towards the RV with the police and emergency services. A mile outside the village he saw a barrier across the road.
Floods
. No shit, Sherlock, he thought. And he’d tried to tell that twat Rob about the need for flood defences along the Bavant, he couldn’t have spelt it out more clearly in his report but Rob had dismissed just about every word; they’d had a ‘full and frank exchange of views’, as diplomats were wont to call a stonking great row, finishing with Rob informing him that if he didn’t improve his attitude he might have to ‘take matters further’. Yeah, well, who’s been proved right now? thought Mike. Not that he could feel any satisfaction about the victory – not given the misery that was probably being generated along this stretch of river.

Beside the barrier a police car was parked. Mike drew up alongside and got out to talk to the coppers.

‘Don’t even think of going down that road, sir,’ said the constable behind the wheel. ‘There’s a dip about half a mile along and the water is six foot deep. We’ve already had to get two cars dragged out. That’s why we’re here – to make sure no other muppets try it.’

‘It’s all right, officer,’ said Mike. ‘I’m the emergency planning officer and I have no intention of adding to the chaos. I just wondered if you know the best way to get to the bronze commander’s RV. It’s supposed to be at the pub in Upper Bavant.’

The constable in the car assumed a slightly more deferential attitude. ‘I see, sir. Your best way is back through the village, turn left at the junction and head through Bavant Hinton. Not sure where the pub is in Upper Bavant but I can radio ahead that you’re on the way and get someone to meet you in the village.’

‘No, no, that’s fine. Once I get past Bavant Hinton I’m sure I’ll be able to find my way. Thanks.’

Mike splashed back to his car and slid into the driver’s seat. He didn’t envy the policemen. He thought he was being hard done by but at least he had something to do – he wasn’t stuck in a car watching the weather chuck it down. He was just about to start the engine when his mobile rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and checked to see who the caller was. Susie.

‘Hi, hon.’

‘The little buggers have skedaddled.’

‘Who?’

‘Who do you think?’ Her voice was shrill with indignation and annoyance. ‘Ella and Katie, of course.’

Mike sighed. Little minxes. ‘Any idea where they’ve gone?’

‘They’re probably out with those dreadful boys they’ve been hanging around with. Although I doubt if they’re
out
exactly, in this weather. They must be indoors, somewhere.’

‘Do you know where these lads live?’

‘No. Somewhere around here but I don’t know where exactly. I don’t fancy knocking on random doors in case I strike lucky.’

‘And with no mobiles you can’t order them back home.’

‘As if they’d obey me,’ said Susie. ‘Mike, they’re out of control.’

Well, not completely but they were heading that way. ‘They’re just—’

‘They’re just impossible,’ snapped Susie.

‘Look, I expect they’ll be back soon. And they can’t have gone far.’

‘No. No, you’re right. And you’ve got enough on your plate without me adding to your worries.’

‘Keep me in the picture. By text,’ he added. ‘I may be a bit busy to talk in a while.’

‘Yes, I’m sorry. Hope it’s all sorted soon.’

Fat chance, thought Mike. What the copper had told him about the level of flooding on the Upper Bavant road had been a bit of a facer; things were obviously more dire than he thought. He wondered what else was going to be in store for him – a lot more of the same and possibly worse, he suspected. He put his phone back in his pocket and drove on towards his rendezvous with the bronze commander.

Maddy and Luke had got back to her quarter at around two and Maddy hoped they could all settle down in front of the gas fire, watch the sport on the TV and enjoy an idle, restful afternoon. But Nathan had had other ideas and Maddy had found that she’d spent the entire time trying to keep him amused. Every time she stopped he threatened to throw a tantrum and Maddy, not wishing to see Luke’s afternoon ruined by screams and tears – and that would just be her – ended up being run ragged. It wasn’t that she didn’t want Luke to think she was a dreadful parent who had a child from hell, she also didn’t want Nate to be some sort of dire aversion therapy designed to put Luke off fatherhood for life. Finally it had been time for the children’s supper and bath and she decided she must have done something right during the preceding hours when Luke offered to read Nathan his bedtime story while Maddy settled Rose. Maddy could hear the shrieks of delight as Luke hammed up the book he was reading. He’d make a great dad, she thought, as she switched off Rose’s light and went downstairs to make supper. She only hoped that the army didn’t make it impossible for Luke and Sam to get together enough to keep their relationship going. One cliché might suggest that distance made the heart grow fonder, but Maddy knew from bitter personal experience that the counterpart – out of sight, out of mind – was just as true.

She opened the door of her fridge and contemplated the huge chicken she’d bought to feed her house guests for lunch the next day. If she cooked it as planned, she thought, there wasn’t going to be much chance of her and the two kids getting through that in a couple of sittings. The leftovers would be epic and she and the children would be eating chicken for a week. While chicken was nice, she also liked a varied diet. Maybe she ought to joint it and think of different things to do with the bird; she’d checked the freezer and there wasn’t a hope in hell of cramming it in so she’d have to do something with it before the ‘use by’ date. In the meantime, she needed to get on with tonight’s supper for her and Luke – fish pie.

She heard Luke coming down the stairs – she needed to crack on if they were going to eat before eight. She pulled out the bag of smoked haddock and another one of cod, shut the fridge door and turned.

‘Hi, Luke, I was just about to start supper. Fancy a glass of something?’

‘Only if you’re going to join me.’

‘Hell, yes. And thanks for reading Nate his bedtime story. You are a wonder.’

‘But it was great to revisit
The
Very Hungry Caterpillar.
It’s an age since I read it.’

‘Not much call for it at Sandhurst.’

Luke laughed. ‘Not a lot. The required reading was rather more serious.’

‘Beer?’

He nodded. Maddy reopened the fridge and passed Luke a can of Spitfire. He popped the tab.