War Torn (61 page)

‘Stop kicking fucking rocks down here,’ roared a red-faced Angus, from further down the hill. He was carrying ammo.

‘Can’t fucking help it,’ called Finn. ‘They just slide out from under our feet.’

Dave halted and turned to where he thought he had seen the shadows. Breathlessly he spoke on PRR. ‘Can you hear me, Jamie?’

The sangar looked far away. Jamie held up a hand.

‘Are we anywhere near the place we saw them?’

‘Nope, you’re way out.’

Angus arrived and flopped down on a rock next to Dave, gasping loudly for breath.

‘We can’t be!’ said Dave. ‘We’re down and to the right of Three Boulders!’

‘You’re too far down and you’re hardly right at all.’

‘Fucking hell.’

They sighed and carried on across the sizzling face of the hill, sweating and silent, too shocked by what had happened even to moan.

A shout went up from the boss.

‘They were here! They left ammo!’ He held up some spent cases.

‘Yeah, you’re in the right sort of area now,’ Jamie told them.

‘They’ve made quite a nest around these bushes,’ reported the boss. ‘The ground’s all flattened out. There’s a bit of food and a couple of rags . . . they were here a long time.’

‘I knew it,’ said Angus. ‘I fucking knew it. They’ve been there for days. I saw them.’

No one looked at him.

‘You were right, Angry,’ said Jamie on PRR.

‘Shit, McCall, I wish we’d taken more notice of you,’ said Dave. ‘Fuck it.’

‘Pity Martyn didn’t believe you,’ said Finn quietly.

Angus and Finn looked at each other for a long moment.

‘Nah,’ Angus said. ‘Nah, the poor bastard thought he was doing the right thing.’

‘Er . . . Sarge . . .’

Dave turned to Binns.

‘What’ll they do to Topaz Zero?’

CSM Kila stumbled up to them before Dave could answer.

‘I’ll tell you what they’ll do to Topaz Zero!’ They waited while he tried to catch his breath.

‘I s’pose they’ll kill him,’ said Streaky.

‘Oh, they’ll kill him,’ agreed Kila. ‘And they’ll put it online for everyone to see. So they’ll make sure they behead him or skin him alive or disembowel him or something really entertaining.’

There was a silence. It was broken by the distant throb of helicopters.

Boss Weeks, who was further around the hillside, stooped by a bush.

‘Here too! Another nest.’ He held up a sandal. The sole was worn away. ‘They even made a path . . .’

He ordered 2 Section to accompany him and they stumbled off, scrambling on loose rocks, hanging onto boulders, swearing at the bushes as they tried to follow the path the insurgents had made. Dave thought how quickly and stealthily the Taliban hiding there must have moved along these paths. It was easy to dismiss them as primitive but their thin brown bodies were lightly clothed and burdened only by a weapon, which made them the fittest fighting force for the terrain.

The voices of 2 Section grew faint. On the radio the boss said: ‘There’s so many paths it’s like a giant wasp’s nest. They must have been swarming here.’

The Apaches were close now. They flew low and began hunting over the hillside. Dave watched with a sense of hopelessness.

‘What were the flipflops waiting for? The right moment to attack?’ he wondered out loud. ‘Were they planning a big ambush?’

Iain Kila shrugged.

‘They certainly changed their plans fast, then. Because they never dreamed a fucking civvy would walk right over to them and offer himself as a hostage. They must have thought Allah was rewarding them for good behaviour.’

‘Shit,’ said Dave, imagining Martyn in the hands of tribesmen and feeling a sudden rush of affection for him.

‘I’ve got no sympathy,’ said Kila. ‘He knew he shouldn’t leave the camp. From the moment we got to Sin City, the fucking civvies have been behaving like they’re above the fighting. It’s: “I’m a civvy and it’s nothing to do with me.”’ He imitated the civvies in a high, simpering voice. ‘Well, the Taliban don’t think that way. To them we’re
all
fucking enemy and now Topaz Zero knows it.’

‘HELLO,
MOTHER.
HELLO,
BABY.’

Jenny opened her eyes.

‘You were asleep.’

‘Leanne, hi. I wasn’t asleep, I just fed her and closed my eyes for a minute.’

‘How’s the world’s most adorable little girl?’

Jenny smiled. ‘Adorable. Very quiet and content.’

‘I didn’t bring Vicky.’

‘Is she OK?’

‘Having a great time with two nanas fighting over her.’

‘Where are the twins?’

‘Dave’s mum took them with Vicky to the rec. She’ll be in to see you later.’

‘They said I could stay a day or two longer. Or I could go home. Think I’m naughty for staying?’

Leanne lowered her body onto the bedside.

‘I think you’d be naughty not to.’

‘If it wasn’t for Vicks I could move in here.’

Jenny felt Leanne’s weight tip the bed dangerously. Leanne was getting bigger and bigger. She noticed how flesh was gradually swallowing the features of her friend’s face.

‘I’ll take a picture or two and email them to Dave,’ Leanne said. ‘Then when he gets back to the FOB he’ll have a whole collection.’

‘Does anyone know when they get back?’

‘Nope, but when they do the first thing that’s going to happen is Dave’ll phone you.’

Jenny felt a waterfall feeling inside her chest. She was getting used to the feeling, which was nothing to do with her milk coming in. It was the familiar sensation of sadness sweeping through her body. Because a baby had been born and the baby’s dad probably didn’t even know.

‘Watched the news?’ asked Leanne cautiously, and now there was another sensation in Jenny’s body, the one where everything curled itself up into a ball. This was fear. The TV news, with its sketchy reports of dead soldiers, no names or details, always generated anxiety. Which was why she tried not to watch it in the hospital.

Leanne saw her face and said quickly: ‘No one’s dead.’

But Jenny could not relax until she knew. She waited, her body stiff with tension.

‘Something’s happened and Adi thinks it happened to our lads.’

The baby rearranged herself in her cot. Leanne paused. Both women turned to watch silently until the tiny body was still again.

‘The Taliban have taken a hostage. A civilian oil worker. Adi thinks 1 Platoon were supposed to be guarding him.’

Jenny groaned.

‘Dave’s in trouble then?’

‘Maybe.’

The news didn’t seem to bother Leanne much. She was looking in her big, shapeless handbag for something. Why should she care if 1 Platoon was in trouble? thought Jenny. Steve was at Headley Court and Leanne had enough troubles of her own.

‘How is he?’ she asked.

‘Who?’ Leanne had the contents of the handbag out on the bed now. Along with the notebook, chewing gum, chocolate wrappers, makeup, tissues, old receipts and the keys with the SpongeBob SquarePants keyring, were balls of Play Doh and a toy car.

‘Your Steve.’

Leanne found her phone and threw everything else back into the handbag.

‘Say cheeeeese . . .’ She held the phone up at arm’s length.

‘Wait!’ Jenny began to rearrange her hair. Then she smiled at the
lens, remembering that she was smiling for Dave. She tried to make her eyes talk.
I love you, I miss you, why aren’t you here?

Leanne clicked and then took a few of the sleeping baby.

‘So?’ demanded Jenny.

‘So what?’

‘You don’t want to tell me, do you? About Steve? When you went up to Headley Court yesterday?’

Leanne sat back down on the bed heavily and Jenny felt it tip again.

‘It was fucking awful.’

‘His leg, you mean?’

‘His attitude. He keeps saying really shitty things. About my weight. Like I’m totally unfanciable.’

‘Steve probably feels totally unfanciable with only one leg,’ Jenny said softly. ‘But he’s pushing it off onto you.’

‘Well, if he wants a sex life he’s not going the right way about it.’

‘You’ve got a really strong marriage, you two. I know you can get over this one.’

‘We used to have a really strong marriage. Now there’s me, him and his fucking injury. Who was it said that marriages get a bit crowded when there’s three of you?’

‘I bet he was pleased to see you, though?’

Leanne’s face began to look rubbery. Jenny knew what was coming next. Tears. ‘Jen, I don’t want him to come back. I want him to stay at Headley bloody Court for ever.’

‘Oh, Leanne, you don’t mean that.’

‘I do! He was a right bastard. Nice for five minutes but he had the TV on and he didn’t turn it off when we came in. Then one of the boys walked in front of the screen. And that was it. He was yelling and screaming and shouting. Using really bad language. Ethan didn’t know what he’d done, poor little love.’

Jenny guessed that Leanne had already cried today. She looked full of pain as though she hadn’t cried enough and now she wanted to cry some more.

‘Was he ever like this before?’ she asked.

‘Well, you knew him, Jen.’

‘Not behind closed doors I didn’t. Was he ever horrible when you were all at home together?’

‘He was no saint. He had no patience. He’d snap. He had his limits and I learned not to go near them. But this isn’t snapping, Jen. I swear he wants to hit us. You should see his face. One minute he’s chatting away, the next he’s all twisted up with anger.’

‘Maybe he only lets it go when you’re around because he knows he can with you. Because he loves you and trusts you.’

Tears fell down Leanne’s cheeks. She said: ‘If this is love, I don’t need it.’

‘How are you around him?’ asked Jenny.

Leanne shrugged, and the flesh that lined her neck and shoulders hugged itself.

‘A bit scared if you want the truth. In case he starts throwing things again.’

‘Were you always a bit scared of him? I used to think he had a temper.’

‘Fuck it, Jen, he’s always had a temper but he never used to talk to me like this. He used to show me some respect. Even if he doesn’t love me any more, he could still do that, couldn’t he?’

Jenny nodded. Leanne sniffed.

‘What are you thinking?’ asked Leanne, fishing a tissue from the big handbag.

‘Nothing.’

‘I know you, Jenny Henley. I know you’re thinking something.’

The baby suddenly jumped in her sleep and threw her arms into the air as though a current ran through her. But she did not wake.

‘I’m asking myself,’ said Jenny carefully, ‘why you can’t stand up to Steve the way you used to.’

Leanne’s big face disappeared behind the tissue.

‘Um . . .’

‘Why?’ demanded Jenny. ‘Because he’s lost a leg?’

Leanne said: ‘He used to be a big, hard soldier and now he’s this angry man with one leg who wants to be a soldier. Telling himself he’ll be able to carry kit and run about with a gimpy and fight on the front line. It’s so sad, Jen . . .’ She started to cry again and now the baby was waking up, waving her arms and making small, guttural noises.