A Regimental Affair (29 page)

‘“Colonel Car Crash says ‘Roger, Over and Out’,’” Alisdair read out. ‘“First he
rogered
her, then he told her it was
over
, then he threw her
out
.” Good God, how do they think of these headlines,’ he said in disgust. ‘And it’s not even right. Bob
didn’t
throw her out.’ He scanned further down the page. ‘This is dreadful!’ There were pictures of Ginny, Alice and Bob taken at Taz’s party. ‘Alice must be in bits about this,’ he commented. ‘Though, thinking about it, I don’t suppose she’s seen it. I can’t imagine they take this rag, and I can hardly see her nipping down to the NAAFI for a copy.’

‘No. But even so, I’ve no doubt she knows the general gist of the story. There are probably a few insensitive souls who have rung up to tell her. That’s why I thought I would go round in a minute. I thought she might need someone to hold her hand.’

‘Megan might need some sympathy too. It can’t be much fun for a teenager to have this sort of stuff written about your dad in the gutter press.’

‘Poor kid,’ agreed Sarah, thinking how Will and Jen would react if they were in Megan’s position.

‘And remember, Bob is denying this story. OK?’

Debbie, too, was poring over the paper. ‘This is worse than I imagined,’ she muttered as she cut up toast soldiers for Danielle.

‘What is?’ asked Richard.

‘Guess,’ answered Debbie. ‘I feel so guilty about all this. If I hadn’t become friends with that woman this would never have happened.’

Richard sighed. ‘There’s no point in you beating yourself up about it,’ he said. ‘What’s done is done.’

‘Which means you agree – it’s all my fault.’

‘No,’ he said, with a shade too much emphasis. ‘No, I don’t mean that at all. The woman was obviously going to get stories out of the regiment if no one knew who she was. If she’d introduced herself to you as a London hack you’d never have said a word.’

‘No, I would not,’ said Debbie hotly. ‘Bl …’ She was about to swear but remembered that Danielle had got to the stage when she was prone to repeat words, any words, that were new to her. Only the day before, she had been toddling around the house yelling ‘bugger, bugger, bugger’, which Debbie had explained to Richard was a mispronunciation of the word butter, but Richard had been loath to accept that. She certainly wasn’t going to give him any grist for his mill by lapsing in his hearing. ‘I tell you, when I see her again, I’ll give her a piece of my mind.’

‘I don’t think she’ll be back here for a bit; certainly not until the dust settles.’

‘What I’ve got to say can wait.’

Richard dropped a kiss on Debbie’s nose and on the top of Danielle’s head, grabbed his beret and briefcase and took himself off to work. Debbie spread a little Marmite on a finger of toast and fed it absent-mindedly to her daughter as she reread the piece in the
Mercury
. Her sense of outrage grew until she was almost shaking with suppressed rage.

The phone rang. ‘Yes,’ she snapped down it.

‘Debbie,’ said the bemused voice of Ginny.

‘Ginny. I’m so sorry. How are you?’ Debbie tucked the phone under her chin and with both hands free she lifted Danielle down from her chair so she could run off and play and leave her mother in peace with the phone.

‘I’m OK. I’ve seen the paper.’

‘Ghastly, isn’t it?’

‘What’s the reaction in the barracks?’

‘Too early to tell. I’ve only just read it myself and I haven’t had the chance to test the temperature of the water.’

‘Will you? And then let me know.’

‘Sure. Good journey?’

‘Not bad. I got here yesterday afternoon. Netta’s just had number five so there’s going to be plenty to keep me occupied and to stop me from brooding.’

‘Good.’ There was a crash followed by a wail from the sitting room. ‘Oh Lord. Danny’s done something. Must dash. Phone me this evening.’ Debbie put the phone back on the hook and went to rescue her daughter.

As she picked up the overturned lamp, dried the tears and soothed her little girl, she wondered how she could see what other people thought without looking as though she was either revelling in Alice’s misfortune or taking an unhealthy interest in other people’s unhappiness. Perhaps, she thought, a trip to the NAAFI might do the trick. She glanced at her watch. It wouldn’t be open for a bit. Time for another cup of tea.

Debbie made the tea then pottered round the house, Danielle trailing behind her, making beds, tidying toys away, doing a spot of half-hearted dusting until she reckoned it was time to make a sortie to the NAAFI. She dressed Danielle in her coat and woollen hat and then popped her in the pushchair before throwing on her own tatty old jacket and heading out the front door. In the drive opposite, Louise was unloading supermarket carrier bags from her car. The big store in the next town was open twenty-four hours and Louise often went at the crack of dawn because, as she said, if Grace had had her up and about for hours, she might as well use her time constructively. Debbie was only thankful that Danny seemed to like a more leisurely start to the day.

‘Hi,’ called Debbie.

‘Hi there. Off for a walk?’

‘Just popping to the NAAFI for a couple of bits and pieces.’

‘OK. Hey, Debbie, do you know what’s going on? There’s a crowd of people outside the barrack gates. It looks like reporters. Are we expecting some VIP visitor or something?’ Louise knew that Debbie was often privy to advance information, being the wife of the adjutant.

‘You mean you don’t know?’ said Debbie, amazed. She’d have thought everyone would have heard the news via the regimental grapevine by now – or seen the paper. After all, Bob had told Alisdair and Richard on Saturday – thirty-six hours was usually more than enough for such important news to get round.

‘Obviously not,’ said Louise.

Unusually for Debbie, a sense of propriety overtook her. ‘Look, I don’t think the middle of the patch is the best place for this. How about I drop in for a coffee on my way back and I tell you everything?’

‘Deal. But don’t be too long. I don’t think my curiosity can hold out.’

Debbie hurried off. As she made her way along the roads through the married quarters she was aware of a few knots of wives standing outside their houses or on street comers, chatting animatedly.
The hot news is being disseminated
, thought Debbie, as she saw a few of the wives glance at her and look a little guilty, perhaps ashamed at indulging in gossip so publicly.

In the NAAFI a couple of the soldiers’ wives were poring over a copy of the
Mercury
and chortling.

‘How the mighty have fallen,’ said one, with obvious
schadenfreude
.

‘Serve her right, toffee-nosed cow,’ said the other. They ignored Debbie, probably because they had no idea who she was and Debbie, in her ancient jacket, didn’t look like an officer’s wife.

Debbie longed to say something to put the record straight but she knew it was better not to. She grabbed a wire basket, threw in some milk, a packet of biscuits, a pack of loo rolls and a bag of chocolate buttons for Danny and headed for the checkout. The checkout girl began to zap Debbie’s purchases.

‘Bit of a turn-up for the books, ain’t it?’ she said.

‘What is?’ asked Debbie innocently.

‘The colonel knocking off Captain Turner. Mind you, she’s not bad-looking. I reckon half the lads in the regiment would have her, given a chance. And I’ve always thought she was a bit of a goer. Not like the colonel’s wife –
she
wouldn’t give the lads a second glance.’

‘Well, I very much doubt Captain Turner would have given the lads a second glance either,’ said Debbie tautly. ‘And, besides which, you shouldn’t believe everything you read in the papers.’

The checkout girl looked up from her till and saw the expression on Debbie’s face and then coolly looked down again. ‘That’s two pounds and forty-seven pee,’ she said.

Debbie handed over the money, got a few coppers in change and left the shop. She’d known that the news was bound to generate a lot of interest but she had expected, perhaps naïvely, that most members of the regiment would feel sorry for the three main protagonists in the sordid story. How wrong she had been.

The groups of wives were still gathered around as she returned to Louise’s.
How much is there to discuss
? thought Debbie.
Plenty, obviously
. Louise was looking out for her on her return to their road and had the front door open as Debbie pushed Danielle up the garden path.

‘Come in, come in,’ she welcomed as she grabbed the front of the stroller to pull it over the doorstep. ‘Kettle’s boiled,’ she said to Debbie, ‘and Grace has got all her toys out ready for you to play,’ she said to Danny as she unclipped Danny’s straps and helped her off with her coat. Danny toddled along the corridor and into the sitting room while Lou led Debbie into the kitchen.

‘Now, tell me before I burst with curiosity,’ ordered Lou.

As Louise poured boiling water on to the coffee granules in one of the mugs Debbie said, ‘Colonel Bob had a fling with Ginny Turner and it’s in the papers today.’ The sound of hot coffee spilling over the side of the mug, trickling across the worktop and splashing onto the floor made Lou realise she ought to stop pouring. Still looking agog, she grabbed a dishcloth and mopped up the mess.

‘You’re kidding me.’

‘Straight up,’ said Debbie.

‘Good God.’ She slopped the excess coffee out of the mug and into the sink.

‘Well, to be honest, it’s only in the
Mercury
but the other papers have obviously dispatched some of their reporters here to glean more gossip. Hence the scrum at the gate.’

Lou finished clearing up the mess and making the two cups of coffee. She handed one to Debbie.

‘Let’s go through to the sitting room so we can keep an eye on the girls.’

Debbie followed her through, although the two children were playing perfectly happily, albeit separately, and patently didn’t need supervision.

‘How’s Alice taken it?’ asked Lou when they had settled into armchairs.

‘I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. I mean, she must know that I know. I feel I ought to go round but it’s a bit hypocritical. Especially as Ginny’s my friend and I knew all about it before she did.’ Louise’s mouth dropped open again. ‘Ginny told me when she came back from Kosovo.’

Louise’s mouth shut again and she nodded. ‘Oh.’ She digested the information. ‘And all this time you kept shtum?’

‘Had to. I knew if the story got out, I’d be the first person Ginny would think had ratted on her.’

‘So how did it get out?’

Debbie explained about Taz.

‘What a cow!’ shrieked Louise in indignation and disbelief?‘How could she?’

‘I expect she got paid a decent amount of money.’

‘But to knowingly ruin two friends’ careers for the sake of a scoop …’

‘I know, I know. It beggars belief, doesn’t it?’

‘Have you said anything to her?’

‘Not yet. She’s flown the coop.’

‘I’m not surprised.’ Louise whistled. ‘Well, she won’t be invited into the regiment again, will she?’

Debbie shook her head. ‘You realise that the other piece in the
Mercury
was down to her too?’

‘Yeah,’ said Lou. ‘The penny was just beginning to drop.’ She looked at Debbie. ‘We should have guessed.’

‘It’s easy with hindsight. Do you know, at the CO’s Christmas drinks, Sarah was introduced to Tabitha and she knew she’d heard the name recently. And neither she nor I made the connection.’

‘Sorry,’ said Lou, ‘Who is Tabitha?’

‘Taz. Taz is short for Tabitha – Tabitha Alabaster. So it’s no wonder we didn’t twig. She never gave anyone a clue about what she did, and we didn’t know her real name.’

‘Devious cow.’

‘Anyway, the official line from the regiment is that we know nothing, but it would probably be better if we say nothing at all if the press corner us.’

‘They’ll get nothing from me,’ confirmed Lou.

Chapter Nineteen

Ginny had arrived at Petroc and Netta’s farm the previous evening after an uneventful but rather bumpy helicopter flight from Penzance. On the way from the heliport to the farm, Ginny had divulged to her brother-in-law the reason for her unexpected visit.

‘You’ve done it good and proper now, my duck, haven’t you?’ he’d said with a chuckle. But then he’d seen how completely devastated Ginny looked and had put his hand on her knee to give her a reassuring pat while thundering along the tiny lanes in his battered old Land Rover and steering with the other hand. ‘Well, you’re in the best place. The press won’t find you here and you’ll get a chance to have a good think about it all.’

After they had dumped Ginny’s kit at the farm they had driven the mile into Hugh Town to visit Netta in the little hospital. Netta, looking radiant, was sitting up in bed and, not for the first time, Petroc was struck by how similar the two sisters were. Facially they were almost identical except that Netta’s skin had a semi-permanent tan from her outdoor life and her hair was shoulder-length compared to Ginny’s curly bob. Netta was feeding her baby contentedly and was so engrossed in watching the infant sucking at her breast that she didn’t see her visitors until they were at her bedside. Despite the fact that this was Netta’s fifth, Ginny had never met any of the other children until they had been several months old. She was astounded at how incredibly small a newborn was.

‘Look at her little fingernails,’ she said in amazement. ‘They’re so tiny but so perfect.’

‘Aren’t they just,’ said Netta running her own finger gently over the back of the infant’s minute hand. ‘You can hold her, if you like, when she’s finished guzzling.’

Ginny wasn’t sure if she wanted to. The baby looked so fragile and vulnerable. Netta read her expression correctly. ‘Babies don’t break, you know. You’ll be all right.’

Ginny nodded. ‘Well, if you’re sure.’

‘So, why are you escaping?’ asked Netta.

Ginny repeated her tale.

‘Nice one. Gin. You’ve really done it this time, haven’t you?’ she said, not without sympathy. ‘Well, I can see why you want to get out of the spotlight, that’s for sure.’

‘It’s not so much just getting out of the spotlight as being told to keep out of the way. I had a phone call from the adjutant while I was waiting at the heliport at Penzance. I’ve been suspended from duty until further notice, so I can’t go back to the regiment even if I wanted to.’