Civvy Street (9 page)

She strolled into the drawing room. ‘If we built cupboards in round the edge of this room, each group could have their own storage space for any kit specific to them.’ She went into the kitchen, where she scooped up Nathan – the incessant banging of cupboard doors had got too much, even for her high-tolerance threshold – and looked about her. The kitchen was big, twice as big as hers, and it had a huge utility room opening out from it. ‘We could make this into a little café and meeting place.’

Camilla looked unconvinced. ‘And who would run it? And what about food hygiene?’

‘I bet there’s an enterprising wife who would jump at the chance – especially if she was allowed to turn a profit. Anyway, it’s just an idea.’

Beyond the kitchen was a snug or den. It was a reasonable size and had the downstairs loo leading off it. It also boasted a door into an old conservatory. Maddy unlocked it and went through. An idea began to form in her head. She turned back to Camilla. ‘What’s upstairs?’

‘The master suite with its own dressing room and bathroom, five other bedrooms and a second bathroom.’

‘Six bedrooms, blimey.’

‘It
was
a brigadier’s house,’ said Camilla.

Maddy thrust Nathan at her. ‘Can I just have a quick look, if you don’t mind...’ She glanced at Rose who was, as always, being angelic. ‘If you could just keep an eye on these two.’

Maddy didn’t wait for an answer as she bounded up the stairs. It certainly was pretty palatial. She had an idea about a use for that ‘master suite’ and she wanted a quick look to suss out the possibilities. She threw open the doors on the upstairs landing one after the other before she found the right room. Wow! A big bay window flooded it with light and the room was huge, far bigger than the poky bedroom she had in her quarter. She crossed the empty floor to one of the two doors on the far wall and investigated what was behind it – the en suite. Dated and tatty but big enough for what she had in mind. The other room, the dressing room, was more of a cubbyhole with a built-in wardrobe but still a useful space. Delighted with her find, Maddy skipped downstairs to relieve Camilla of a struggling and uncooperative Nathan who was hell-bent on following his mother upstairs.

‘OK,’ said Maddy, ‘I’ve got some ideas. We’d be better off discussing them back at mine, if you’d like to come back for a cuppa.’

Camilla nodded. ‘Oh, that’s such a charming offer.’

Maddy held her tongue – again. ‘Charming offer’? It was only going to be a mug of tea, when all was said and done.

They trailed back to Maddy’s with Nathan, now bored and tired, wanting to be carried, even though he could see his mum was holding his sister. Camilla, Maddy noticed, didn’t offer to take either Nathan or Rose. They finally reached Maddy’s front door and she was able to herd the group in. Nathan, once home, made a remarkable recovery, his tiredness forgotten, and ran off to find his toys while Maddy dropped a protesting Rose in her playpen before hurdling the stairgate across the kitchen door to go and put the kettle on.

‘A sensible mother,’ said Camilla. ‘I do so approve. It’s so easy for accidents to happen and we wouldn’t want that to happen to your kiddies.’

Maddy gritted her teeth. ‘Actually, I got the tip about stairgates from Caro Edwards. She’s posted back in here – her husband is going to be Seb’s 2IC.’

‘I don’t think I’ve come across her. Of course Jack hasn’t done that many tours with the battalion. The army always thought he was so gifted as a staff officer he spent a lot of time at the MoD and other HQs.’

More likely, thought Maddy, they knew how unpopular the pair of you were and did their level best to keep you away from the battalions to spare the other officers the awfulness of serving with you. But she smiled at Camilla as if she concurred with the analysis. She bustled about in the kitchen and made the tea, found a packet of biscuits which she decanted onto a plate and then led Camilla into her sitting room.

‘Sorry about the mess,’ she said, although she wasn’t, as Camilla picked her way disdainfully across the toy-strewn floor.

‘Tell me about your ideas,’ said Camilla, sipping out of her mug, pinkie half-cocked as if she didn’t know whether she should or not.

Maddy put her mug down on the desk beside her. ‘So, I think we ought to use that room off the kitchen, and the conservatory, as a crèche.’

‘Crèche? Why would we need a crèche when we’ve already got the Mothers and Toddlers?’

‘But this is so the mums can
leave
their kids. Get a few hours to do their own thing: have a good rootle around the thrift shop; get their hair done; go shopping. And while I’m on the subject of hair, at our last barracks the garrison had its own hairdresser and it was so useful. We could turn the master suite upstairs into one. Get a backwash unit put in the en suite bathroom, use the bedroom as a salon and the dressing room as a store cupboard. We could even plumb a washing machine in the dressing room, joining up to the pipework in the bathroom and so the hairdresser could wash and dry the towels there too.’

Camilla looked indifferent. ‘I suppose.’

Don’t knock yourself out.

‘These ideas are all very well,’ Camilla continued, sounding utterly unenthusiastic, ‘like your one for a café, but who is going to run them? I, for one, don’t have the time or the inclination to take on any more little jobs for the battalion. There are quite enough calls on my time as things stand.’ She gave Maddy a stern look but Maddy refused to be intimidated.

Bossy old bat, she thought, before she said, ‘Camilla, there are wives brimming with talents here. Their only problem is getting paid jobs. Caro is a trained nursery nurse, or nanny or something... anyway, she got all the qualifications. I know a wife who is a hairdresser and I am sure there’s loads of other wives with catering experience and they’d all love to do something that was on their doorstep, and which might earn them a bob or two. Honestly, Camilla, I am sure we could do this.’

Camilla looked sceptical. ‘And what about the finances?’

‘People pay for the services they use and we pay the workers out of that. Any profit can go to the upkeep of the community centre or to service charities.’

‘And if the enterprises don’t make enough money?’

‘Then we have a rethink.’

Camilla sniffed. ‘I can see you are very enthusiastic but I have my doubts.’

‘Let me see if I can find people qualified to run these ventures and see what they think. How about that?’

‘It can’t do any harm, I suppose.’

Damned with faint praise... ‘Leave it with me,’ said Maddy firmly. Besides, it wasn’t just her ideas she wanted to get off the ground; if she could pull this off she’d be giving a leg up to two mates: Jenna and Caro. The only worry was that Camilla might have heard about Jenna’s other enterprise at the previous posting and so veto Jenna having anything to do with this plan. However, there was no reason why Jenna’s illicit hairdressing salon would have come to Camilla’s notice so that wasn’t likely to be a problem. No, the real problem was Jenna’s affair with Dan Armstrong when her husband Lee had been out fighting in Afghanistan. It hadn’t made her the most popular wife on the patch, that was for sure. But it had been over two years previously, Lee was now happily married to another woman and a lot of water had flowed under the bridge. And Jenna was a bloody good hairdresser. Maddy rather hoped that the combination of the wives’ desire to have a decent haircut, and the passage of time, would mean that Jenna wouldn’t get blackballed if she opened a salon. Only one way to find out.

‘How did it go?’ said Susie, when Mike got back from his interview.

Mike looked exhausted. ‘I don’t know. No idea. I did everything that recruiting firm told me to do: I told the company how much I loved the idea of working for them, I was geared up to talk about their products, their ethos, even their bloody history, but the spotty youth interviewing me wanted to know if I sucked sweets or crunched them!’ Mike looked despairingly at Susie. ‘I mean... what the fuck was that about?’

Susie shook her head. This didn’t sound hopeful. Could she pile on the misery more by telling him just how dire the house was she’d been to visit? Or how hideous the neighbourhood? She decided not to mention it just yet.

‘I applied for McManners’ job today.’

‘You did what?’ He sounded horrified. It was almost as if she’d announced she’d gone on the game.

‘Mike, don’t start. It’s a job and, God knows, I need to get one just as much as you do.’

‘I know but—’

‘No buts, Mike.’

‘I don’t know why I’m worried, anyway. I doubt if they’ll give it to you.’

‘Thanks for the vote of confidence.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Mike looked contrite. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. What I meant was they’ll choose some ex-senior NCO. Stands to reason, doesn’t it. It’s what they always do.’

Susie nodded, non-committally. ‘Maybe,’ she murmured.

*

‘Seb?’ said Maddy as the pair relaxed in front of the box after supper.

‘Hmm?’ said Seb.

‘Can I ask a favour?’

Seb took his eyes off the TV and looked at his wife. ‘It depends what it is.’

‘You know the CO’s been badgering you about updating the mess?’

‘Yes?’ said Seb cautiously.

‘Well, supposing you broke the mould.’

‘What mould?’

‘The mould of appointing a senior NCO to run the place.’

There was silence for a few seconds. ‘Why?’

Maddy took a deep breath. ‘I want you to give the job to Susie.’

‘Susie?
Susie?!
’

Maddy rolled her eyes. She had a bet with herself that Seb would react like this. ‘Yes, Susie,’ she said, trying to stay calm. She started to count points off on her fingers. ‘One, she needs a job; two, she understands everything about 1 Herts and their traditions; three, she has done catering; four, she understands basic accounting; five, she’s the most honest person I know; six, I’m asking you nicely.’

‘And seven, she’s completely wrong for the job.’

‘No, she’s not... for all those reasons I’ve just given you.’

‘Why? Why on earth do you want me to do this?’

‘Because she’s Mike’s wife. Because you’ve got his job and I think you owe him one. Because he hasn’t yet got a job and Susie is getting desperate... because... because...’

‘“Because” bollocks. It’s not an officer’s wife’s job.’

‘But she won’t be, will she? Think about it. And Seb, I’ve never asked for anything before. I’ve put up with you being away rowing, I’ve put up with the moves, with my career going tits-up, with everything, but I am asking for this. This
one
thing. Please, Seb. Please?’

‘It’s not in my gift.’

Maddy gave Seb a hard stare. ‘Really? I’d say it’s very much in your gift. You’re the PMC. You’ll be in charge of the interview panel and you know as well as I do that if you say that you think she is the woman for the job to the rest of the guys they’ll all tug their forelocks and agree with you. Won’t they?’

‘Not necessarily.’

Maddy just narrowed her eyes.

Seb shuffled. ‘I’ll see.’

Maddy kept staring at him.

‘If she doesn’t measure up though, I will have to sack her.’

‘Just as long as you give her a chance to prove herself, that’s all I’m asking.’

Seb sighed heavily.

‘Thank you, darling. Now, to change the subject...’

Seb looked at his wife, wary of what else he might have to agree to. ‘Yes?’

‘About Rollo’s visit.’

‘And?’

‘Well, you’re pretty much OC B Company and—’

Seb put up his hand. ‘Not so fast. I’m not yet.’

‘Details, details... Anyway, you
are
the PMC and I thought we ought to have a bit of a party in Rollo’s honour. Let’s face it, he’s a bit of a celeb – how many others on the patch can boast having an Olympic gold medallist to stay? – and he’s pretty good fun so I think we ought to have some of our mates along to meet him.’

Seb considered the idea. ‘I suppose. It might be politic to ask Rollo first. I mean, he might not want to be trotted out as main attraction.’

‘Rollo?’ spluttered Maddy. ‘Not want to be the centre of attention?’

Seb conceded she had a point. ‘But we ought to tell him – just as a courtesy.’

‘OK, I’ll do that.’ She smiled. ‘I’m so glad you agree. It’s about time we did some more entertaining. It’ll be fun.’

‘Just one thing,’ said Seb. ‘You do realise we’ll have to invite the Rayners?’

Maddy sagged. ‘Must we?’

‘We must.’

‘If they come there’s every chance Susie and Mike won’t, you do realise that, don’t you?’

‘They don’t have to talk to each other.’

‘No, I suppose not.’ But Maddy didn’t think the possibility that the Rayners and the Collinses might be in the same room boded well.

*

Maddy threw open the front door as the engine of Rollo’s powerful sports car rumbled into silence. Bloody hell, he still knew how to make an entrance. In a road where almost every car, including theirs, was an estate or a sensible four-by-four, his fire-engine red Jaguar F-type stood out like a ballerina in a rugby scrum. And what extravagance! This was an expensive car and no mistake. But that was Rollo – never subtle or understated.

Rollo threw open the car door and unravelled himself from the driver’s seat, then stretched. As he did so he caught sight of Maddy.

‘Mads! Darling Maddy.’ He bounded up their front path and enveloped her in a hug before planting a kiss on the top of her head.

Clasped against his chest, barely able to breathe, Maddy wondered when she’d been promoted to ‘darling Maddy’. They’d got on reasonably well at Oxford but he’d never called her ‘darling’ before.

He grabbed her shoulders and held her away from him.

‘You are glowing,’ he said. ‘Being married to Seb obviously suits you. And being a mother!’

Maddy grinned. Rollo’s bonhomie was infectious. He enveloped her in another bone-crushing bearhug.

‘And what’s this I hear about Seb giving up rowing?’

Behind her Seb boomed, ‘You heard right.’ Seb, carrying a sleepy, pyjama-clad Nathan, leaned over Maddy and clapped Rollo on his shoulder. Maddy, a respectable five feet eight, but squashed between two guys who grazed the six foot four mark, felt like the meat in a sandwich and a huge wave of claustrophobia engulfed her. She elbowed them both in the solar plexus.