A Regimental Affair (40 page)

The conversation moved on from the behaviour of children to schools, from schools to league tables, from league tables to desirable places to live, and suddenly Debbie and Lou were making a move to go to collect Danny and Grace from the friend who was minding them for the morning.

‘Good grief, is that the time?’ said Alice looking at her watch. She smiled at Sarah. ‘You were right to make me come. I only meant to stay a few minutes and I’ve been here half the morning.’

Alice and Sarah walked towards the front door. ‘And no one said anything untoward, did they?’

‘No. Everyone was lovely. I felt very welcome. Thank you, Sarah.’ She leaned forward and impulsively gave Sarah a hug.

‘We’re all behind you, you know. Whatever happens, no one wants to see you suffer.’

‘It’s not in my hands, though, is it? If the army decides to believe the story and Bob has to go, then there’s nothing I can do.’

‘Let’s hope for the best then, shall we?’

Chapter Twenty-Six

The call from the military police came through on Monday morning, just as Ginny and the three eldest children were preparing to leave for the walk to school in Hugh Town. The kitchen was a scene of chaos as Netta and Ginny found school bags and coats, put sandwiches into lunch boxes, fed Lisa and Rose, cooked breakfast for Petroc, retrieved reading books from down the side of the sofa, and generally got things sorted. The noise of the telephone bell over the racket almost went unheeded until Flossie picked it up.

‘Aunty Gin,’ she hollered over the noise. ‘It’s for you.’

Ginny went over to the phone. ‘Hello,’ she said, holding the receiver tight against one ear while cupping her hand over the other to block out the noise generated by four children and a baby.

‘This is Major Griggs of the Provost Branch,’ she heard a deep voice with a faint north-country accent say.

Ginny sagged. She had put all the unpleasantness of the investigation out of her mind. She had barely given it a thought over the past few days, but now it was impinging on the safe haven she had created for herself here. ‘Yes,’ she said wearily.

‘I need to get a statement from you. I want to know when I can come and interview you.’

‘Whenever,’ said Ginny. She didn’t care. It would be awful whichever date he chose to do it. Sooner, later, what did it matter to her?

‘I can’t make it over to the islands this week,’ said the major. ‘Will you still be there next week?’

‘Yes,’ said Ginny.

‘I’ll let you know when to expect me.’

‘Yes.’
Oh, goody
.

‘Goodbye.’

Ginny put the phone down.

‘Bad news?’ asked Netta, who had been watching her sister’s reaction to the call.

‘The army. They’re coming to get my side of the story.’

‘Oh.’ Netta gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘You knew it had to happen one day.’

Ginny nodded. ‘Right,’ she said breezily. ‘Everyone ready?’ The three children were by the back door in their anoraks and boots, school bags on their backs and lunch boxes in their hands. Jack’s only contained an apple for his mid-morning break but he wanted to be like his big brother and sister and had insisted that he should have one too. Flossie, of course, had sneered that Jack’s lunch box was one that she had discarded a year or so ago, and anyway, as it only had a piece of fruit in it, it couldn’t really be called a lunch box, but Jack was not to be dissuaded.

‘Squad,’ she called. ‘Squad, ’shun.’ The three giggling children obediently brought both feet together and stiffened their backs. ‘By the left, quick march. Left, right, left, right.’ Netta held open the back door. The children, pretending to march, shambled through it. ‘Left wheel,’ called Ginny, as her troops exited into the farmyard. She waved to Netta who shut the door behind her. The game of soldiers continued through the yard and down the track until they got to the road. It had been the same the other two times she had taken the children to school, but then she had enjoyed the game. The army then had been consigned to some sort of forgotten foggy limbo. Now, although she played the game for the children’s sake, the army had made its presence felt in her life once again and the fun had evaporated. The prospect of a visit from a military policeman hardly promised to be some diverting entertainment, and the thought of being interviewed, of having to divulge intimate details of her affair, made her flesh creep. Still, if the kids wanted to play at soldiers, she would humour them, even though her heart was no longer in it. At the gate on to the road, the kids broke ranks and ran along the tarmac, between the dry-stone walls, towards the town.

‘Keep in,’ called Ginny automatically after them although there was hardly a danger from traffic. She lengthened her stride to keep them in view and then broke into a jog as they threatened to extend the gap between them more than what she felt was acceptable. She caught up with them in a dozen or so paces and grabbed Jack’s hand. Then, having secured his safety, she ran with him till they levelled with the two others. By this time they were almost at the outskirts of the town and Jack was red, dripping with perspiration and flagging with fatigue.

‘Phew,’ said Ginny, feigning exhaustion for the sake of Jack, who would lose face to admit he was pooped. ‘Slow down. I’m shattered.’

Obediently, Flossie and Barnaby slowed to a walk. Ginny swung Jack, lunch box, school bag and all, on to her hip. If he fell behind Flossie, the little madam was bound to give him a hard time about not being able to keep up, or worse, make him feel guilty that they might be late for school – which they certainly wouldn’t be, but Jack wouldn’t know as he couldn’t tell the time. If she carried Jack there was no chance of that and she would get to the Trelisk Hotel in good time too. Besides, Jack didn’t weigh that much and it was largely downhill to the school.

Twenty minutes later, after the kids had safely been transferred to the care of their teachers, Ginny rolled up at the front desk of the hotel to report for duty. A young, unknown girl, labelled ‘Vicki Forbes’, greeted Ginny with enthusiasm.

‘Chris said to show you to the office and to keep the coffee coming. Is that right?’

Ginny hid her disappointment that Chris wasn’t there to meet her himself and replied that it sounded just fine.

‘Chris apologises for his absence,’ continued Vicki, ‘but he’s gone to buy fish.’

‘OK,’ said Ginny.
Reasonable enough
. The hotel had to continue to function. She made her way to the office and sat behind the desk. As she gazed at the disordered piles of papers, document wallets, box files, invoices and sundry other bits and pieces, she wondered what on earth had possessed her to volunteer to take the job on.
Where do I start
? she thought. Then she gave herself a mental shake, put her bag on the floor, rolled up her sleeves and began by piling everything that was on the desk on the floor instead. At least, with the desk clear, she would have somewhere to work. She was halfway through that task when Vicki appeared with a tray, a Thermos jug full of delicious-smelling coffee, a cup and saucer, a jug of cream and a bowl of sugar cubes.

‘At least there’s somewhere to put it,’ said Vicki with a grin. ‘I’ve never seen the top of this desk before.’

Ginny grinned. ‘And how long has that been?’

‘A couple of years. Since I left school.’

‘Well, hopefully you and it will soon be well-acquainted.’

‘It’s going to be a hell of a job, isn’t it? Are you going to be here long?’

‘A week or two. It should be enough.’

The expression on Vicki’s face plainly showed that she didn’t believe it would be anything like enough time to sort out the chaos, but she didn’t contradict Ginny.

With plenty of coffee to keep her going, Ginny got to work. Having cleared the desk, she began arranging different pieces of paper into piles according to subject matter. After about an hour there was no space left on the desk so she began new stacks of paper on the floor. She was crawling around on the carpet, her bottom pointing towards the door, when Chris came to see how she was getting on.

‘Not your best profile,’ he said laconically from the doorway.

Ginny looked round. ‘Cheeky.’

‘Exactly,’ he said.

Ginny couldn’t stop herself from laughing.

‘How are you getting on?’ he inquired.

‘OK. It’ll look a lot worse before it gets better, but as long as no one interferes with my system before I start getting things squared away it shouldn’t take too long. And anyway, like it or not I’ve got to stay here for at least another week, so I should have time to do a proper job.’

‘You make staying here sound like a penance. Is it because of this?’

‘No,’ said Ginny hurriedly. ‘No, it’s nothing to do with sorting this bugger’s muddle out. It’s just there’s other stuff happening that I’ve got to deal with.’

Chris looked puzzled. ‘So what is it? Netta’s family?’

‘No, and anyway staying with them could hardly be called a penance. They’re great. No,’ she sighed. ‘No, I had a call from the military police today. They’re coming to interview me, but not till next week. It’s a bit like having the Sword of Damocles hanging over me.’

Chris shook his head. ‘I’m sorry. I’m probably being unbelievably thick, but you’ve lost me completely. What possible interest have the police got in you? I thought you were here to get away from the press – I didn’t realise that you’re a fugitive from justice too.’

Ginny gave a mirthless laugh and hauled herself to her feet. ‘Have you got a few minutes?’ she asked. Chris nodded and Ginny explained the army’s disciplinary system, and how she and Colonel Bob had managed to breach it, and how she was now the scarlet woman as far as the regiment was concerned, and how both her career and Colonel Bob’s hung in the balance.

Chris whistled. ‘A bit of a mess then.’

Ginny nodded. ‘You could call it that.’

‘And are you and Bob …?’ Chris looked embarrassed.

‘What? An item?’

Chris shrugged.

‘Oh no. As far as he is concerned I’m rather an embarrassment, an aberration, a blot on his career plan.’ Ginny couldn’t hide the pain she felt.

Chris, leaning against the door jamb, shifted uncomfortably. ‘Oh.’

‘No. He told me in no uncertain terms that he considered his wife a much better bet if his career was to go any further.’

‘That, presumably, was before the story got into the papers.’

Ginny nodded. ‘And that’s all seen as my fault too.’ She told Chris about the duplicitous Tabitha and her spat with Debbie.

‘You’ve been a bit hard done by, haven’t you?’

Ginny nodded. She was starting to feel quite sorry for herself and she was afraid she was going to lose control.

‘Well,’ continued Chris, ‘it’s not just you that’s been hard done by, but Colonel Bob and his missus and his kid, and most of the rest of the regiment.’

Ginny felt a flash of anger. No, it wasn’t ‘just as bad’ for the others. It was she who had had the worst of it, what with Debbie and the other wives being so horrible, and it had been her story that had been all over the press, and it was her dreams about Bob that had been so comprehensively shattered. No, it had definitely been worse for her. Why did everyone feel so much sympathy for bloody Bob and his family? She thought of putting Chris straight but, hell, what was the point? He probably wouldn’t understand anyway.

‘Well,’ she said tartly. ‘I’ve got a lot of work to do, so, if you don’t mind …’

‘Right,’ said Chris. ‘Whatever.’ He wandered off again, leaving Ginny still simmering with annoyance. She was annoyed that he hadn’t been sympathetic; she was annoyed that he hadn’t taken her side, and she was annoyed that, having failed so miserably on both those counts, he hadn’t intuitively known how he had hurt her and apologised.
God
, she thought,
everyone seems to forget I’m a victim too
.

Just before twelve Ginny tidied up as best she could and prepared to leave to collect Jack and take him back to the farm. She slid past the reception desk, glad that Chris was nowhere to be seen as she was still mad at him for his earlier comments. She was just about to leave the hotel when she heard Vicki calling her name.

‘Ginny. Ginny!’

Ginny turned round. ‘Yes,’ she said, conscious of the time and that, if Vicki delayed her, poor Jack would feel abandoned.

‘I shan’t keep you,’ said Vicki, seeing her glance at her watch. ‘I just wanted to ask you something.’

‘Fire away.’

‘I know you were in the army.’

‘Yes, why?’ asked Ginny guardedly, wondering where this was leading.

‘Oh, it’s nothing to do with …’ she tailed off. She’d obviously heard about Ginny’s recent past. Ginny raised her eyebrows. ‘It’s just that I had a booking today. A Major Griggs. Do you know him?’

Great
, thought Ginny. ‘Of all the hotels in all the world and he has to book into this one,’ she said, doing a dreadful parody of Humphrey Bogart.

‘Sorry?’ Vicki looked completely lost.

‘Yes,’ said Ginny. ‘Yes, I know him. Actually, I know of him, if I’m being entirely truthful.’

‘Well, that’ll be nice for him. He seems to be coming on his own so it’s good that he’ll have someone to talk to.’

‘Yeah, great isn’t it?’ said Ginny with a total lack of enthusiasm. The trouble was, there was no doubt that he was going to have someone to talk to and that someone was going to be her, whether she liked it or not. Vicki gave her a slightly puzzled smile and Ginny turned and headed towards the school.

She got there just as Jack was coming out. She bounded up to the door and gathered him up, avoiding crushing the large sheet of paper he was clutching in one hand. He was still at an age when kisses from his aunt were to be welcomed and not despised. At least he still loved her unconditionally and wasn’t going to make comments about her past or her behaviour.

‘What did you do today, Jack, m’lad?’

Jack flourished the piece of grey sugar paper. On it was a bright, swirly daub that could have represented anything.

‘That’s great, Jack! What is it?’

Jack didn’t seem to be the least bit affronted that Ginny did not instantly recognise the subject of his oeuvre.