A Regimental Affair (16 page)

Bob sighed, partly with relief. ‘Thank you, Ginny.’

Ginny looked at him, a puzzled expression on her face. ‘But I thought you loved me.’

‘Ginny, you are the most remarkable woman I know. I have never had such erotic experiences. Memories of them will live with me for ever. And there will always be a place in my heart for you.’

‘But not in your life.’

‘You must have known that couldn’t be possible.’

‘No, I didn’t. I had hoped that you would quietly divorce Alice one day and marry me instead.’

Bob took her hands again. ‘It isn’t just Alice though, is it? There’s Megan as well.’

‘Yes. I see.’ Ginny’s voice was devoid of emotion. She looked pale and defeated. But Bob was glad she wasn’t sobbing her heart out like she had on the mountain.

‘I know what I’ve said must be hurtful …’ He was interrupted by a small snort of derision from Ginny.‘… but in time you’ll see it’s for the best. You’ll understand that we’ve done the right thing.’

‘There’s no “we” about this, Colonel,’ said Ginny icily. ‘Whatever this is about, it isn’t about us, it’s about you.’ She stood up, her mouth set in a tight little line. ‘If that is everything, I’ve got a mountain of work to get through, so if you’ll excuse me …’ She shut the door behind her as she left. Bob slumped in his chair. Part of him was relieved that the unpleasant interview was over but part of him felt dreadful that he had caused so much pain. If only he could put the clock back, if only that damned accident had never happened, none of this would have done either. Wearily, Bob rose from his seat and reopened the door. Ginny was hurt and angry, that was obvious. He hoped to God she didn’t decide to do anything rash. And he hoped, even more fervently, that she wasn’t going to go and cry on anyone’s shoulder.

Chapter Ten

‘Cheer up,’ said Richard as he plonked himself down next to Ginny at dinner that evening. ‘Maybe it’ll never happen.’

‘Yeah,’ said Ginny dully. ‘And maybe pigs will fly.’

‘It can’t be that bad.’

Ginny gave him a long look. ‘Oh, yes it can.’

‘Sorry.’

Ginny didn’t say anything, she just forked up another mouthful of lamb curry and chewed it morosely.

‘I had an email from Debbie today,’ said Richard, changing the subject on purpose. ‘Apparently this year’s wives’ club Christmas party isn’t going to be a patch on last year’s.’

‘Oh?’ But Ginny wasn’t really interested. After all, it looked even more certain that she was never going to be a wife, so what possible interest could a wives’ club Christmas party hold for her? She couldn’t even manage to hold a man for long enough to have a decent affair, let alone get him to marry her.

‘Yeah,’ said Richard, carrying on regardless. Ginny wasn’t sure if he was too stupid and insensitive to see that she was not interested and happy to wallow in her own misery, or whether he had spotted that she was unhappy and was making an effort to cheer her up. Because of the way she currently felt about the male of the species, she assumed it was the former. ‘Yeah, last year they had the “Sheratons”, a “Chippendale” tribute group. Debbie says this year Alice is booking a conjuror. Can you believe it? You can imagine what all those women are like after their men have been away for the best part of six months – a conjuror is hardly likely to fit the bill.’

‘No.’

‘Debbie says she and Sarah are trying to persuade Alice to let them book a stand-up comedian as well.’

‘Oh.’

Richard shook his head as he gave up the struggle. Ginny was glad. She had never felt less like making polite conversation in her life. Even if it was with an old friend like Richard. She finished her curry and took herself back to the tiny, cold and dreary room that was her bedroom. As the only female officer, she had the privilege of a room to herself. On most days she felt that the privilege only served to isolate her, but tonight she welcomed the solitude.

She sat on her camp bed and leaned against the cold breezeblocks behind her. She felt angry and upset. She had tried to stop the affair from happening. She had tried to resist him. She had known in her heart that it was a terrible idea, but he had persuaded her and raised her hopes of making a future life with him. And now her fears had been realised. He had been forced to make a decision and she was the one who had been left high and dry. Her anger grew as she thought about his rejection. He’d told her that he preferred that cold snob of a frigid wife to her. Her! How dare he? Ginny’s hurt and humiliation turned to total rage. She felt tears of self-pity and indignation prick at her eyes. All those years, she had measured her other men friends against his maturity and humour and looks, and found them wanting. Not that she had been celibate – far from it, to be completely honest – but she had never looked for any sort of long-lasting relationship with any of her suitors. She had seen the ideal man for her and if she couldn’t have him then she wasn’t interested in a poor imitation. So her boyfriends had come and gone and she had continued to hope that fate would deliver Bob to her. And she thought that her dream had materialised and her prayers had been answered, but now everything was ruined. Everything had turned to dust. She had been spurned as if she were some schoolgirl with a teenage crush. Bastard. Bastard! Well, so what if people guessed what had happened? He deserved to have his career wrecked. He’d wrecked her life, after all. In fact, she might even start a rumour. That would show him, if everyone started gossiping about the two of them. Even if the brass didn’t find out, it would put the wind up him. It would scare him shitless. And what would his precious bloody Alice say when she found out? Huh? Well, that would serve him right. Ginny sat on her bed and wallowed in vindictive, spiteful thoughts until she exhausted them and reality re-exerted its grip.

It was all very well wanting to get her own back but, realistically, what would she achieve? Petty revenge might be all well and good in the short term, but then what? She would alienate him for ever. He was hardly likely even to speak to her, let alone form a relationship with her if she had wrecked his career and his marriage. She might gain some short-lived satisfaction from the act of vengeance but he would despise her and she would lose him for ever. Damned if she did, damned if she didn’t. The stark truth was that he didn’t want her, he wanted Alice. And where did that leave her? She sniffed. It left her in a bloody awkward position, that was where. With a sigh, she admitted to herself that she had got it all wrong. By revealing her feelings for him she had left him with only two options – her or Alice. He had made his decision and now she was the one with precious few options. Either she could stay in her current posting and accept that every day she would have a constant reminder of her humiliating rejection, or she could go, put this behind her and try to make a better fist of the rest of her life. With a leaden heart she realised it probably wasn’t even an option for her to stay with the regiment. Loyalty was a two-way thing, and she certainly didn’t feel any towards Bob – and she was pretty certain the only loyalty he might feel for her was guilt-induced. There was no way they could continue a proper working relationship under those circumstances.

Even if her professionalism managed to rise above their difficulties, could she really bear to see him every day? Could she pretend nothing had ever happened, accept that she was going to see Colonel Bob constantly but just try to put everything behind her and get on with it? Or, and this was the sensible course of action, she could ask for a posting for personal reasons. The trouble was, there were pitfalls that came with both options. If she stayed put, either she or Bob might say something indiscreet, or someone within the regiment might put two and two together. And she had already been on the receiving end of a comment about the two of them spending the night together. She had laughed it off with the retort that she wasn’t
that
desperate for promotion. But it was from that sort of remark that rumours grew. Alternatively, if she asked for a new posting she would have to give a reason and the only explanation she could give would be ‘personal reasons’ – often a euphemism for needing to get away from a failed love affair, although her postings branch probably wouldn’t pry as to exactly what her reasons were. This would remove her from the regiment but there were people who were bound to be curious about whom she had been having an affair with. Even though she might be safely out of the regiment, someone was bound to come up with the right answer sooner or later. Well, that wouldn’t be her problem. If she acted with dignity and left without a fuss she could hardly be blamed if things subsequently went wrong. Her reputation might take a beating but the person it was really going to hurt was Bob if the story got out. His career would be history, and possibly his marriage too. The desire to hurt, to hit back, reasserted itself with this thought. ‘Serve him right,’ she muttered angrily. ‘Bastard.’

Her eye rested on the rough shelf that she had fixed up to serve as dressing table, desk and bookcase. Lying on it was the last letter from Megan. True to her word, Megan had written regularly. Not frequently, but regularly. Seeing the letter reminded Ginny that there was another complication in this business. She was the innocent victim in all this. It wasn’t Megan’s fault that her father had the hots for one of his subordinates and her mother was frigid. If the affair became public, Megan would be hurt beyond belief and Ginny couldn’t do that to her. She was genuinely fond of the kid but she could hardly continue their friendship. It would be impossible for her under the circumstances. Ginny stared at the letter for a while and wondered how she was going to deal with this added complication. She would have to find ways of avoiding her until another posting came up. But what would she say if Megan did corner her and asked what was going on? She didn’t think she would be able to lie to Megan, but she could hardly come out with the truth. Which would be less hurtful: to tell Megan that she didn’t want to be friends with her any more or; to tell her that she and Bob had fallen out? Either way, it was a mess. But one thing was sure; she would have to let Megan down in the Christmas holidays. Now that circumstances had changed, there was no way that Ginny could contemplate taking Megan on the promised shopping spree to London. She sighed deeply.
Why are things so fucking complicated
? she thought angrily.

She picked the letter up and began to reread it. It was full of news about the school’s forthcoming production of
The Pirates of Penzance
. Megan had managed to land herself a small solo part and it also appeared she was helping out with wardrobe. She apologised that with the play and the ridiculous amount of prep they were now given every evening, she wasn’t sure whether she’d be able to write to Ginny much more before they all came back from Kosovo. Ginny put the letter down again, thanking her lucky stars that, with Megan so busy, she might not notice the lack of letters from herself. Even Ginny’s egocentric attitude and odd set of personal rules didn’t allow her to carry on a correspondence with her ex-lover’s daughter. She might be able to pretend everything was just as it was before she went to Kosovo as far as the grown-ups in the regiment were concerned but she wasn’t going to start lying to Megan.

At least that had forced her to come to a decision. She would have to go. She couldn’t bang around the barracks with the frequent possibility of running into Megan.

Sarah picked a copy of the
Mercury
off the news-stand at the NAAFI. She glanced at the headlines and popped it in her shopping basket. She knew Alisdair hated the rag but she was a secret fan. It always had such wonderful, juicy stories that the broadsheets never ran. It would be her treat for today, she promised herself.

On her return home she discovered the post had come. She picked it up off the mat and flicked through the letters as she shut the door. She noticed they consisted either of junk, bills or circulars, so she chucked them on the hall table as she walked into the kitchen to make herself a coffee. Once she had her drink she took the mug and paper into the sitting room and settled herself down. She scanned the front page and saw a succession of gloomy stories about war, pestilence and famine. She knew she ought to read them but it was just too depressing. Ignoring her conscience she turned to the inside pages.

NO QUARTER was the headline on the women’s page. ‘The tough life of army wives,’ it said in smaller print. Sarah folded the paper and began to read the article avidly. Like most people she liked reading about things that concerned her. ‘God, that’s so true,’ she muttered as she read about the nausea of moving every couple of years. ‘Oh, yes,’ she agreed as she got to the bit in the article about careers being almost impossible to follow. ‘Exactly,’ she said when she read about senior officers’ wives who wore their husbands’ ranks more prominently than their spouses and liked to lord it round the barracks. ‘So like bloody Alice,’ she murmured. In fact, she began to feel that everything that was mentioned in the article seemed to strike an unusually familiar chord. Even down to the fact that the husbands were in Kosovo. She reread the feature but there were no names or places mentioned to give her a clue that this was anything more than coincidence. She decided that life for army wives was obviously a shared experience and scarily similar for all of them, regardless of place or regiment.

Still
, thought Sarah,
the article would make a good topic of conversation
–at the wives’ club coffee morning she had promised she would attend later that day. She tore the page out of the paper and put it in her handbag.

‘I’d like a word, Colonel, please,’ said Ginny from the doorway.

Bob looked up from his desk warily. He wasn’t sure he wanted another confrontation with Ginny. The one the other morning had been harrowing enough and he’d been deliberately avoiding her since then.

‘Come in. Sit down,’ he said. Ginny entered his tiny office and shut the door behind her. Hell, thought Bob, this looks ominous. She sat down on the edge of the chair. She looked distinctly uncomfortable and edgy.