War Torn (39 page)

‘We’re not going to see much of the action, though, are we, if we’re stuck in the outer cordon?’ called Mal.

Dave put his hands on his hips. ‘Got a short-term memory problem, shitheads? We’re catching fleeing insurgents and closing in on the compound to support the Paras. That’s action.’

The boss added quietly: ‘The last ambush 1 Section was involved
in might be considered enough action for some people, Mal. We were extremely lucky to escape serious injury.’ He glanced at Jamie.

‘And let’s keep it that way,’ said Dave. ‘I don’t want any sloppiness because you think the Paras are going to take the brunt of the contact for you. Just stay sharp.’

R Company was due to leave the base at 0400. The base was already so busy at 0300 that there was an empty phone slot. It had been booked solidly since the operation was announced and Dave, as usual, had been too late for a place. He hadn’t spoken to Jenny for a week. Or even two.

He knew he should stop sorting ammo and grab the phone. His mind was on today’s operation and he did not really want to realign his thoughts with the small domestic world of Wiltshire. The call would be affectionate, but it would have to be brief.

When he held the battered handset at last, it felt rare and precious. Not because it could connect him to Wiltshire, but because it was something every man wanted.

He dialled Jenny’s number. He was determined that he wouldn’t spend ten minutes apologizing for not phoning before. As the number rang he felt the usual fear that she wouldn’t answer and the usual relief when she picked up.

‘Jen!’

But the voice he heard was not Jenny’s.

‘Dave, is that you?’

It was his mother-in-law. Not a good sign.

‘Trish! Where’s Jenny?’

‘She’s across the road at her friend’s, whatsername.’

‘Leanne?’

‘Leanne. Is that the one who had something happen to her husband?’

‘He got sent home.’

‘Not in a coffin, I hope?’

Typical Trish. Salt of the earth, always there to help in a crisis and guaranteed never to look on the bright side. Ever since they first knew Dave was coming to Afghanistan she had been darkly hinting at the inevitability of his demise, until Jenny had begged her to stop.

‘Not in a coffin, but not in one piece,’ he conceded.

‘Well, there you are, then. And they’ve sent him somewhere else now.’

This was Trish’s I-told-you-so voice. It was entirely predictable and always entirely justified because nothing bad could happen which Trish hadn’t already anticipated. Some people had hobbies. Trish spent her leisure hours concocting disasters.

‘I think he’s gone to Headley Court. Trish, is everything all right with Jenny?’

‘No. She’s not good, I’m afraid. She’s been told she needs a lot of rest . . . oh, here she is now. Do you want to speak to her?’

He gritted his teeth.

‘Well, yes please, Trish.’

‘All right, I’ll let you two talk. But, Dave, I must say something. Jenny’s had too much to cope with alone here, and now it’s beginning to show. Who knows what effect this is all having on the baby? We may not know for years but these things always come out in the end.’

He rolled his eyes as the prophet of doom droned on.

‘You need to reconsider your position, Dave. You’re out there fighting a war no one agrees with or understands while your family’s here without you. Think about it, Dave. There. That’s all I’ve got to say.’

‘OK, Trish, I’ll give that some thought.’

Trish handed over the phone and he was alone with Jenny. There was a pause and then they both guffawed.

‘Christ, your mum doesn’t change, does she?’ said Dave.

‘I don’t know what I’d do without her.’

‘What’s up, love? What’s happened?’

‘I’ve been feeling weird for a while . . .’

‘You didn’t tell me.’

Ooops. Stupid. How could she tell him if he didn’t phone? He braced himself for her to point this out but she evidently decided not to.

‘Well, I’m just about to have a baby, it’s normal to feel weird. But for the last couple of weeks I’ve been getting a bit spaced out and my ankles were so swollen I could hardly move. Then my hands started to swell too and I just felt dreadful. The midwife said my blood pressure was too high. I’ve got to have complete rest.
If I don’t get back to normal in a week, I have to go to hospital.’

‘But what will they do there?’

‘I don’t know. Monitor me, I suppose.’

‘Oh, Christ. Is the baby OK?’

‘Yes. The worst case scenario is that they’ll have to induce me a bit early.’

‘Induce!’

‘Dave, don’t worry.’

‘Early!’

‘Not very. We’ll manage, love. Your mum’s coming to help next week so I know I’ll have a laugh then.’

Jenny and Dave’s mother were good mates. Dave just wished he could feel the same way about her mother.

‘How’s Vicky?’

‘Fine! Everything’s fine.’

But he knew everything wasn’t fine. And he knew he was powerless to do anything.

‘I miss you. I worry about you,’ he said. He kept his voice even so he didn’t betray his anguish.

‘Well, don’t. I’m OK and it’s my job to do the worrying around here.’

‘If you were OK your mum wouldn’t be there.’

‘All I do is lie around getting bigger. And Mum gets smaller. She’s lost three pounds.’

‘How’s Leanne? How’s Steve?’

‘Well, you can worry about them if you want something to worry about. He’s been horrible to her. Really angry. Seems to want any excuse to shout at her. As though she planted the bloody IED.’

‘I thought he was at Headley Court now.’

‘They’re giving him at least two legs, maybe more. One for every occasion. But he’s still horrible to Leanne. He’s on an anger management course or something now.’

Dave was aware that around him the base was buzzing with activity. His own men were gathering by the wagons already and sharing cigarettes. The air was thick with anticipation.

‘Jen, shit, I’m really sorry, I’ve got to go . . .’

He rushed the rest of the call and then put down the phone feeling dissatisfied. He hadn’t been able to tell her that in less than an
hour he would be leaving for a big operation. And she had apparently decided not to nag about him leaving the army, at least for now. So they had talked about Steve and Leanne. As usual, there had been more unsaid than said between them. It was better not to phone at all.

He walked briskly back to the ammo.

1 Platoon was outside and ready by the wagons at 0330. The world was still dark but light threatened. You could see the red line of dawn waiting to disperse far away in the east.

The men had checked and re-checked their kit and now they sat quietly. There was little conversation. They were thinking about the day ahead and the possibilities it would offer, for both bravery and for death.

Sol looked 1 Section up and down. As usual, he stopped by Jack Binns. He made it his business to keep an eye on this lad and just yesterday had discovered that his heels were cracked. He spoke sharply, breaking the group’s silence.

‘Did you remember to put that cream on, Binman?’

‘Yeah, but they don’t hurt much.’

‘That’s because I gripped you in time.’

Mal said: ‘They’ll hurt when you’ve been on your feet all day, Binman. I let my heels get cracked and every step was like treading on fucking knives.’

‘Is that why you lost the shotgun?’ asked Finn. ‘Because your heels hurt?’

‘Fuck off,’ said Mal, lighting a cigarette and handing Finn one.

‘All right, Mr Angry?’ Finn asked Angus, who was sitting leaning on his Bergen with his eyes closed. ‘Want one of Mal’s ciggies?’

Angus did not open his eyes. ‘Nah.’

Sol had been watching Angus too.

‘What’s up with you?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Had anything to eat this morning?’

‘Nah.’

‘Not scared of a fight, are you?’ asked Finn.

‘Course not. I just don’t want to fuck up in front of the Paras.’

Sol’s face creased into a frown. ‘Who cares about the Paras?’

‘I do.’

‘Thinking of doing P Company, Angry?’ asked Mal. ‘Is that what it is? Scared you’ll let yourself down?’

Angus opened his eyes. ‘I’m not good enough to do P Company.’

‘Bollocks,’ said Mal.

‘You’re the right size. Toms are mostly gorilla-shaped people,’ said Jamie.

‘Toms are mostly gorillas,’ said Finn. ‘Forget the people bit.’

‘You’ve got to think you’re God’s gift to the British Army,’ said Sol. ‘Or you can’t join the Paras.’

Finn drew on his cigarette: ‘I thought of doing P Company.’

‘Why don’t you, then?’ Binman asked.

‘Because he’d miss us,’ said Mal.

‘What’s the point? Just so I can wear a red beret and jump out of aeroplanes? I thought: Finn, you already have enough women chasing you, so forget it.’

‘You said your old man was in the Jedi, right?’ said Bacon to Angus, who had closed his eyes again now. Angus did not reply. But Streaky continued.

‘Well, why join the Paras? Why don’t you follow in your dad’s footsteps and go straight for the Jedi?’

‘Selection,’ said Finn. ‘Now that really is a killer. Have a go at joining the Jedi, Mr Angry.’

‘I wouldn’t be good enough.’

‘Your dad could give you a few tips about Selection,’ said Mal.

‘He never talks about it.’

Jamie said: ‘Are you sure he was in the Regiment?’

Finn narrowed his eyes. ‘In the Regiment?
In it
? Angry’s dad fucking
ran
it. And I mean he almost couldn’t find the time because he was so busy walking on water. He walked right across the fucking South Atlantic and single-handedly took back the Falkland Islands.’

Angus jumped up, like a sleeping animal suddenly woken, and grabbed Finn.

Sol roared: ‘Get off him, McCall, NOW!’

‘Don’t you insult my dad, you fucking diddicoy, you fucking piece of thieving shit from a caravan, you fucking . . .’

Two people grabbed Finn’s right arm just before the knuckles
came into contact with Angus’s face. Four people dragged Angus away.

Dave appeared.

‘What the hell is going on here?’

‘This piece of shit insulted my dad!’ yelled Angus.

‘For Chrissake, McCall, anyone who doesn’t get insulted by Billy Finn isn’t worth knowing.’

Finn’s eyes were narrowed but between the lids they glittered dangerously. His face had thinned with fury.

‘Show a bit of respect,’ said Sol, letting go of Finn’s arm. ‘And you, Angry. Save your fighting for the Taliban.’

The pair melted back into the group, shoulders still squared.

It was almost 0400. Sol took Finn and Angus aside as the others climbed into the Vectors.

‘A section with its own fight is no good at fighting the Taliban. Put it behind you. Both of you. Now. And I don’t mean: snarl at each other across the wagon. I mean put it right behind you so you can fight alongside each other as mates.’