The Songbird and the Soldier (11 page)

Sam cycled away, confident that the children would keep her mind occupied for the rest of the day. A near miss with a car helped to focus her attention on the job in hand, and before she knew it she was pulling up outside school, ready to start the day.

Melissa Andrews and her new pet stick insects came to her rescue. She had brought them in to show to the class and they sparked a great discussion and interest for the better part of the morning. Sam got them all writing about stick insects and then she let them draw a picture each – something she would not be doing again. They were named Sarah, Cynthia and Simon. Not the sort of names Sam had expected and she hoped that they hadn’t been offended by a wrong gendered name, but then again she had no idea how you were supposed to sex a stick insect. Jimmy had panicked her half way through the afternoon, declaring that Simon was suddenly missing, but after a thorough search of the classroom, Melissa found that he was there after all and wasn’t that amazing how good they were at camouflage? So with all the unexpected excitement and a bit of reading and maths, there was little time left for dwelling on the affairs of the heart.

It was by far the longest time she had spent apart from Andy since his arrival, and so it was with a real sense of purpose that she got her things together at the end of the day and sped off home.

Andy was waiting for her when she got back, with a bunch of red roses in his hand and a kiss on his lips. Then, from behind his back he produced two tickets for the theatre and handed them to Sam. He had somehow managed to get hold of some tickets for ‘Much Ado About Nothing’ that night, which Sam had heard had been sold out for months. Sam gasped. “But how…? I tried to get tickets to see this ages ago, but it was sold out.”

“Ah, you obviously haven’t got the knack.”

“You mean you batted your eyelashes at the woman behind the ticket counter. I’ve seen you in action. I’m sure you could talk any woman into anything if you set your mind to it.”

Andy laughed. “If only. I think usually I just bore them with logic until they give in.”

Sam gave him a look. “Thank you,” she said and kissed him.

Seeing Andy again after the break of a day was like seeing him anew. Sam could not believe that this tall, handsome, loving man with inky blue eyes was standing here with her.

The following morning Sam moved through the rituals of the day without a sound. There was nothing she could say that would make it any better. It was all she could do to keep herself together and not fall to pieces in front of him. Andy was quiet too. He had packed up his things and was ready to go. He had put his rucksack beside the front door and it stared at Sam defiantly. She looked at him, sipping his tea almost too calmly. Tomorrow he would be back there; back in harm’s way, and all she could do was wait. Any minute now she had to say goodbye. She had to leave him and cycle off to twenty nine little faces and pretend that everything was okay; but it wasn’t. It couldn’t be, not for three more months. Three months of worrying and hoping and trying not to think about those horrible things that crept into the back of your mind when you weren’t looking. A stiff upper lip had to be the only way, if you wanted to make it through with your sanity. Sam looked at the clock. It was twenty past eight; time to go. She paled. “What time is your taxi coming?” she asked.

“About ten minutes.”

“I have to go.”

“I know. I’ll post your key through the letterbox as I leave. Go on now.”

Sam rushed forward and hugged him so tightly, all composure lost. “Come back safe, won’t you?”

Andy held her close. “I’ll do my best.” He prised her away from him. “Come on. You’re going to be late.”

Sam looked up. “We could always elope,” she said, excited. “No one would find us.”

“Sounds like a great idea.” They kissed one last time. “Go on now.”

Sam pulled on her helmet and opened the door.

Andy did not move. “I’ll be seeing you,” he said and Sam smiled and walked away. It was the hardest thing she had ever done. As her body mounted her bike and she rode away, her heart was crying out to run back to him. But nothing she could do would make a difference. He would still have to go, if not then, then soon. She cycled on with tears welling up in her eyes, and ached for the man that had come to mean everything to her. Please stay safe, my love, she thought when she reached the school gates, and walked inside.

As Andy climbed into the taxi and drove off back to barracks, he felt certain in his heart that this time he had got it right. He had found the woman who would stick by him through thick and thin, and nothing and no one was going to take that away from him again.

Sam felt her loss keenly. Andy had only been with her for less than a week, but in that time he had managed to fill such a gap in her life, a gap that she had never even known existed, and now he was gone and Sam was left aching and empty.

A week passed in the shadows, with Sam battling against her will to listen to the news bulletins. She longed for word to come, to say that Andy was all right and still wanted her. Another week and Spike would be home and she would lose her best friend’s support for a while.

Kate was so excited about Spike’s imminent arrival that Sam felt quite jealous. Kate had all her time ahead of her but Sam’s was now gone. She slept on the other side of the bed now, feeling closer to Andy as she lay there alone at night.

And then a letter arrived. Andy was safe. He was back with his group and all was well. Sam breathed a sigh of relief. She read the letter through again and was pleased to see he had written ‘Love’ at the end. Love from Andy. Was that real, or just a word? She scanned back through his old letters. Yes, he had used it before, but only once: in the letter where he had poured his heart out to her. It was real. Sam wrote straight back, telling him how she missed him and how much she wanted to be with him and ended her letter ‘with all my love’.

Radio silence kicked in between Sam and Kate with Spike’s arrival home, and for the following two weeks Sam’s house seemed deathly quiet. And then Spike was gone too, and Sam was there to be a friend to Kate and help her through the melancholy.

Not long after, Sam heard a knock at the door. She wandered over and answered it. Dean Fletcher stood there in his uniform, a bunch of flowers in his hand and a sunny smile on his face. “Hello, Sweetheart, did you miss me?”

Sam was in shock. When she had last seen him, she had been sweet on him, it was true. But then he had gone… and… nothing. He had not sent a word or made a quick call. He had vanished out of her life, even before he had gone, if she was being honest. And yet here he was, all charm and dashing good looks, as if he had never been away.

“Well aren’t you going to invite me in then?”

Sam panicked. She didn’t have a clue how to handle this. She was with Andy now. Surely Dean had to see that he couldn’t just waltz back into her life as if nothing had happened? She stepped aside and Dean handed her the flowers and walked in.

“Nice place you’ve got here,” he said, peering around.

“H-how did you…?”

“Your mum,” he said.

Tea, Sam thought. She would make some tea. She asked him if he would like some.

“Yeah, great.”

Sam walked out into the kitchen and scoured her brain for what she should say. She poured some water into her vase and set the flowers in it to keep for later and then made the tea.

“So how have you been?” he asked as she passed him his drink and they sat down.

“Fine. And you? I mean, you know.”

“Yeah. It was hardly Ibiza, but I’m still in one piece… so far.” Sam smiled a weak, anxious smile. “Look, I’m really sorry I didn’t write, Sam. Truth is I don’t know what happened to your letter. I must have lost it, or… I don’t know, maybe someone nicked it, but… You know I would have written. I’ve missed you, Sam.” Sam studied the patch of floor at her feet. “I did ask my Mum to get a message to you, but you never wrote, so I guess…”

Sam shook her head. “No.”

Dean got up and, putting his cup down, he walked over to where Sam was sitting on the beanbag and knelt down before her. Humphrey, who had been lying under the window in the sun until then, sat up and began to growl. Dean looked across. “Still as grumpy as ever, eh? He’s a tough nut to crack, that one, isn’t he?”

Sam shushed Humphrey and he settled nearby, vigilant but subdued.

Dean resumed his purpose. “I’ve missed you so much Sam. Say you’ve missed me.”

Sam braced herself. “Your mother said she’d met your girlfriend.”

“What girlfriend? I don’t have anyone else but you.”

“But she didn’t see me.”

“When did she say this?”

“A while back. Kate overheard her talking to her mum.”

“Oh, Katy? Well that explains it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well Katy’s always had a bit of a thing for me, a bit embarrassing really. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s tried to wreck things up in my love life.”

Sam was speechless. Everything that she thought she knew was called into question. First there was the implication that Andy might have stolen her letter from Dean. And now what Kate apparently said about his infidelity was in doubt. Had she actually two-timed her boyfriend, while he was out serving in Afghanistan, on the back of a pile of misinformation? Christ! He had to be lying. “Kate’s my best friend. She wouldn’t do something like that to me,” she said.

“Hell, I know it isn’t what you want to hear, Sam, but she’s been playing you, sweetheart, and I won’t have you lied to anymore. What did you think; that I just found myself another girl while I was out in Afghan? There aren’t a lot of opportunities for nights out over there. Anyway you’re my girl.”

“She wouldn’t lie to me,” Sam said.

“Well either she has, or my Mum has. There is no one else. Are you calling my mum a liar?”

Sam stared at a spec of fluff on the floor and a small voice escaped her. “Andy said you did too.”

“Andy? Who’s Andy when he’s at home?”

“Andy Garrington, your mate.”

Dean sat back. “Mate? Hardly. He’s a shifty bastard, that one. Anyway how did you manage to speak to him?”

Sam’s skin crawled, desperate to flee her body. “He wrote to me.”

“He did what? He wrote to you?”

“When I didn’t hear from you.”

“And how did he do that? I would have written, Sam.”

“It had been a month,” Sam protested.

“I was in the middle of a war zone. Pardon me if I don’t think about you every day, when I’m being shot at and blown up by all and sundry.” Dean took a deep breath and let it out. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to take it out on you. It’s just… you come home after a long stint away and all you want to do is see your girl and you find she’s been fed a crock of shit and thinks you don’t care about her.”

Sam looked up into sad blue eyes.

“Just tell me you still care about me Sam, at least, and then we can put all this behind us and move on. I don’t think I could manage out there if I didn’t have you back here thinking of me.”

Sam could not move; she couldn’t speak. She just wanted to find a big hole and curl up inside it.

Dean kissed her on the cheek. “You obviously need a bit of time to take this all in. I’ll tell you what, I’ll check in with my folks and spend some time with them and I’ll come back on Sunday night, okay?”

Sam looked up from her desolate position, battered and bruised on the purple beanbag. Dean’s sad face smiled fondly down at her. He winked and then let himself out.

That night Sam was supposed to be going out with a recently bereft Kate, and Chloe, but she couldn’t face it. She cancelled, claiming to have a really bad headache. She made a quick but cheery call to her mum and dad and then shut up the house for the night and just sat.

If Dean had lost her letter that would explain why he had written to his mum and dad, but not to her. But Dean obviously suspected it was stolen, so had Andy actually stolen it from Dean? And if so, how did she feel about that? Was that dishonesty, or devotion? And what about the other woman? Andy and Kate had both agreed on that part, but were they really unbiased? Worse still, if everything Dean had said was true, what did that make her? What did that make Andy? More importantly, did that mean everything she had made with Andy had been built on lies and deceit? However good it had been between them, Sam now felt riddled with doubt.

She walked upstairs to her bedroom and lay out on her double bed and stared at the photo of Andy, as if by staring hard enough, everything would suddenly become clear to her. Andy. But she loved him so much. He was everything she wanted in a man. He was just perfect. The words ‘too good to be true’ floated into her mind; that’s how her mother had described him. What if her mother was right? Dean had said he was shifty and that was without even knowing she had got together with him. Oh, what did they know! Andy was heaven, her bit of heaven.

Sam really felt she needed to talk to someone, but who could she trust? Not Andy or Dean, that was for sure, and Kate was involved now too. Chloe was more Kate’s friend than her own and that really only left her mum and dad, and the last time she’d come to them with her boyfriend troubles it had upset them more than she had ever been.

On Sunday evening, Sam was no better. The headache she claimed to have had the night before was now a harsh reality. She hadn’t slept and she had barely eaten.

Dean arrived and kissed her briefly. “Hello sweetheart, have you eaten?” Sam shook her head. “Come on then, grab a jacket, we’re going out.”

Sam did not move. “I’m… not really that hungry,” she said.

“Nonsense; everybody’s got to eat.”

Sam went along and picked at her food. She let Dean do most of the talking that night, which he seemed more than happy to do. Sam was on a different planet. She no longer knew who she was betraying with whom and it felt awful.

At the end of the evening, Dean dropped Sam back off at her house and walked her up to the front door.

“Are you all right, Sam?” he asked. “You just don’t seem yourself tonight. Are you coming down with something?”

“Yes, maybe,” she said.

“All right then, I’ll leave you be. You get some sleep. Would you like to go out on Thursday night? I could pick you up around eight?”

Sam looked up. “I’m meant to be meeting the girls for a sing that night.”

“Oh Christ, your karaoke, okay. What about Friday?”

“Yeah, maybe. I’ll see how I feel.”

Dean nodded and then he stepped closer and taking her in his arms he kissed her, passionately on the lips. Inside Sam’s head her mind scrambled in panic, unable to respond. Dean stepped back and beamed at her. “Go on in and get some rest. I’ll call you.” He walked a few steps away and Sam called out.

“I can’t, Dean.”

Dean turned round.

“I can’t. I’m sorry.” There was a long pause. “I’m with Andy now. I’m really sorry.”

Dean looked aghast. “You’re kidding me, right? Sam?” He shook his head. “I thought you were better than that.”

Sam watched him drive away and closed the door. She had expected a row. She had expected to be berated by him for her betrayal at least, but no. Sam thought she might be sick. How had this all happened? Only a few weeks ago she was the happiest she had ever been in her life, and now? Now she could barely put one foot in front of the other for fear of doing the wrong thing. She slumped straight down onto her futon and Humphrey hopped up and laid his head on her lap. Dean’s face when she had told him. He had been devastated. God, how she hoped she had made the right decision.

The following day she received a letter from Andy. It was a loving letter and helped to ease Sam’s conscience that she had made the right choice. He was a kind and generous man, the man she loved and the man she believed loved her. How they had got to that point was not important. Dean would get over her easily enough. There were always plenty of women willing to hook up with a gorgeous, fair-haired Adonis like him. If only she could feel Andy’s arms around her and hear his calm, steady voice, she was sure she would feel much better. But he wasn’t there and for now she was on her own.

Humphrey nudged her. Her stroking had ceased. “Sorry, Humph,” she said and resumed her rhythm. “You love me, don’t you, boy?” she said, picking up the remote and putting on the TV, hoping to find something to blot out the pain.

Thursday night at the Crown, Sam chose her words very carefully. Although she knew Kate would never betray her like Dean had suggested, she couldn’t seem to get his words out of her head.

“Did you see Dean was home on leave?” Sam asked, as nonchalantly as she could manage.

“Yeah. Tosser’s probably out shagging his way around town right now. Good job you’re immune now, eh?”

Was that a little over the top for a neighbour? Sam wondered. Was it bitterness at his rejection? Had Kate tried to stuff things up to protect her? Or maybe this was just Kate? “Yes, I do believe I’ve had the shots now,” Sam said.

“Chlo’, how about you?”

“God, no. He’s not my type. In fact I’ve had my eye on a gorgeous waiter at Dixie’s. You know, the one who served the table next to us that time?”

“Really? But what about Karl?” Kate asked.

“Oh no, didn’t I tell you? That’s all old hat now. We’re just good friends. He admitted to having another girlfriend back home. Anyway, it doesn’t really matter. I was never as into him as much as you two were into yours. We still write, though. He’s trying to get me to do something more than just eat at Dixie’s. He says men aren’t great at subtlety and he might not have a clue that I’m keen on him. He wants me to actually talk to the guy. Imagine that?”

“So have you talked to him yet?” Sam asked.

“No. It’s costing me a bloody fortune.”

Sam’s heart just wasn’t in it that night. She could not be persuaded to sing, however hard the girls tried, but she did enjoy listening to the others and when Chloe was out in the toilets later on, Kate leaned across and whispered to Sam. “What would you say if your best mate thought she might be pregnant?”

Sam gasped and her mouth fell open. “Pregnant?” she mouthed.

Kate’s face was serious.

“But he’s only just…”

“I know, but I was due on Tuesday and I’m never late.”

Sam sat back. “Bloody Hell, Kate. What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. I think I’m going to keep it.”

“What about Spike?”

“I’m going to do a test in the morning and then write to him.” She grinned.

“You haven’t done a test yet? So there’s still a good chance that you’re not.”

Kate looked at her in earnest. “I am.”