Soldier's Daughters (11 page)

‘But I was reading the paper.’

‘Read it later,’ said Maddy, disappearing to the kitchen. Honestly, she’d like to see Seb cope with a baby and housework and cooking with Nathan underfoot. Besides, he had all his toys in his playpen so he was hardly having a deprived childhood. She made up a plate of finger food for Nathan’s supper and then buttered some bread to go with it. When she returned to the sitting room to get him she found he was back in his playpen and Seb was, once more, immersed behind the paper.

Huh, she thought, do as I say, not as I do… It was nearly eight by the time she’d got Nathan bathed and ready for bed and then cooked supper for Seb and herself. She reckoned she might make it as far as the ten o’clock news before she collapsed. She was knackered.

‘By the way, before I forget, I won’t be around this weekend,’ announced Seb as he tucked into his pasta bake.

‘Really? Rowing?’

‘Kind of. That assessment weekend for potential rowers that I’ve been spammed to run – it’s this weekend.’

‘Oh. Will you be away for all of it?’

‘I’m going to leave before lunch on Friday. There’s going to be tented accommodation set up for the participants and I need to make sure that’s all sorted before the rowers arrive. And I can’t see myself getting away till the evening on Sunday so there’s no way I’ll be back till late. Sorry, hon.’

Maddy tried to look suitably disappointed but the truth was, with Seb away, she and Nathan could do some world-class loafing. She wouldn’t have to make proper meals; she could eat cold beans out of the tin if the fancy took her. She could even have Nathan in bed with her after his early morning feed and have a lovely lie-in. Seb would never allow Nathan in their bed – said it was a sign of lazy parenting and that it was the sort of way drunks and junkies behaved. Like he knew anything about parenting, or drunks and junkies for that matter, but Seb had very set views about a lot of things and didn’t like them to be challenged, even if he was completely wrong.

‘Oh well, can’t be helped,’ said Maddy, trying to sound suitably disappointed.

‘Thanks for being so understanding, Maddy,’ said Seb. He sighed heavily. ‘It’s not my idea of a fun weekend but there’s no getting out of it.’

You fibber! thought Maddy. Like he’d ever passed up an opportunity to get out on the water in a boat, and even if he was training other rowers, rather than doing his own training, he’d still be in his element.

‘Fancy jumping in your car after work tomorrow and coming down here to the sticks?’ said Sam over the phone to Michelle. It was Thursday evening and Sam was facing another weekend in the mess with precious little company and even less to do. ‘I’m supposed to be getting a haircut on Saturday but, if you come over, I’ll rearrange it for another time.’

‘Sam, I’d love to, but your hair appointment is safe. I’ve been dicked to run a sodding work detail starting tomorrow.’

‘What? Over the whole weekend.’

‘I know, I know. Shit, isn’t it? Honestly Sam, some of the officers here have got it in for me. It doesn’t matter what I do, I always seem to piss someone off.’

Sam groaned. ‘What have you done now?’

‘I didn’t do the weekly stock check of the mess bar.’

‘Michelle! You’re the mess wines member. It’s your job to do that. It’s like not turning up for staff parade when you’re duty officer.’

‘Look, I forgot, that’s all. It’s not like anyone died, is it?’ Michelle sounded defensive; she always did that when she knew in her heart she was in the wrong.

‘No, it isn’t. But you can’t forget stuff it’s your responsibility to do. No wonder someone got pissed off.’ How could Michelle be so utterly hopeless and drop herself in it yet again?

Over on the married patch Maddy was watching Seb pack, ready to go away to Dorney Lake in the morning. He wanted to be there before the wannabes arrived, to check all the kit, the boats, the arrangements, the tentage and everything else that would make the weekend a success.

‘So you’ll be back late Sunday, is that what you said?’ she asked.

‘That’s the plan,’ said Seb as he threw some underpants into a case. ‘Get everyone out on the lake on Saturday morning to learn the basic technique, then more advanced training Saturday afternoon, followed by trials all day on Sunday to see who’s got the most potential. After that I pick the best of the bunch to go forward for further training for a whole fortnight, after which we should have some who might be capable of joining the army team.’

‘Do you know how many people have applied?’ Not that Maddy cared. It didn’t really make any odds if Seb was dealing with two or two hundred, she knew he’d be as happy as Larry to be back on the water, doing what he loved best.

‘Not a clue,’ said Seb. ‘The only criteria, as far as I could gather, was a minimum height requirement and another one for fitness. How the hell applicants were screened after that is anyone’s guess.’ He fished his Lycra all-in-ones out of the cupboard and stuffed them on top of his other clothes. ‘Let’s hope the weather isn’t too bad. I think I’m getting soft in my old age. The thought of training in driving rain has no appeal at all.’

‘And you call yourself a soldier,’ said Maddy, snuggling up against him. She was going to miss him, she really was. It was the other stuff – the cooking and the tidying up and the rest of it – that she needed a break from.

Seb zipped up his holdall. ‘There, all done. Remind me to put my washing and shaving gear in first thing.’

‘I’ll do my best,’ said Maddy, ‘but you know what my brain’s like at the mo.’ She yawned hugely. ‘Shit, I’m knackered. If you’ve finished, I think I might turn in.’

‘An early night?’ Seb waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Maddy felt herself sag. Oh, please God, no. ‘Seb,’ she said, ‘I’m really tired. I want a proper early night – you know – sleep.’

Seb sighed crossly. ‘Like there’s anything else you want to do in bed these days.’

‘Don’t be like that. It isn’t
just
my fault I’m pregnant. I can’t help feeling shitty. I’m not being sick on purpose.’

But the look on Seb’s face didn’t seem to suggest he agreed with her.

Miserably Maddy went to bed and when Seb came up later she feigned sleep. She knew if he thought he had a chance of a bit of rumpy-pumpy and she rejected him again he’d only get snarky. She didn’t have the strength to cope with one of his sulks so it was best avoided completely. However, even in the silent darkness she was aware of his simmering resentment.

Seb took the car into the barracks the next morning with his holdall shoved on the back seat. He had some paperwork that needed seeing to before he could get away from the office. And away from all that moaning about feeling a bit queasy. God, he thought, as he drove into work, Maddy was only pregnant, not ill. She hadn’t been like this with Nathan but now… now she was going about like a wet weekend, with a face on her that could stop traffic. It was just a bit of nausea when all was said and done, and yet she seemed to be using it as a stick to beat him with at every turn. Shit, he’d even had to iron a shirt this morning because she’d said she wasn’t up to it. It was like she was using morning sickness to get out of anything she didn’t fancy doing. It’d been all right before, when she’d been expecting Nathan. Then she’d managed to cope with that and a full-time job – but she’d liked that job. Now she was a full-time wife and mother it was a different story.
Now
she seemed to resent having a bit of childcare and housework to do. Was it so much to ask that she did the support role at home while he was filling up the bank account every month? And what happened to shagging? He could barely remember the last time he and Maddy had made love. A quick one off the wrist in the shower really wasn’t what a man needed.

Seb was still mulling over the state of his marriage as he got back in his car and set off for the rowing lake. By the time he was approaching Eton Dorney he had calmed down, although he was completely convinced that he was being perfectly reasonable and that whatever was going wrong with their marriage at the moment it was all Maddy’s fault. Well, hers and the unborn baby’s.

Seb left the motorway with the massive pile of Windsor Castle looming on the skyline and then wiggled his way along the country roads of Berkshire till he came to the sign that announced he’d arrived at his destination. He turned into the grounds surrounding the Olympic rowing venue and onto the road that led down alongside the two-kilometre lake, past the Olympic rings and towards the big boathouse at the far end. Before he reached that, he veered left and into the car park beside the campsite used by visiting crews.

He stretched when he got out of the car and glanced at his watch. Eleven – he’d made cracking time. Slamming the car door, he wandered through to the campsite to see if the tentage he’d ordered had not only arrived but was being put up by a work detail from the nearby barracks. As he rounded the hedge that separated the two areas he could see it was all going to plan. Furthermore, the trailer loads of boats from the Army Rowing Club had also been delivered. Better and better. He might even have time to get out on the lake himself before nightfall.

He cast about to find whoever was in charge to introduce himself to. He spotted a tall, uniformed woman, with her back to him, who was issuing orders to the squaddies and who was very obviously in charge of the work detail. Seb wandered over.

‘Hello,’ he said.

She spun round and Seb stopped in his tracks. Stunning was the word that sprang to mind. Wow! He’d heard the phrase fine-boned but this was the epitome of what those words actually represented. She was tall and elegantly slim, like a model, with huge brown eyes and a mass of thick dark hair that she’d tied back in a ponytail. Then she smiled at him and a dimple appeared in each cheek. Maddy was pretty, of course she was, but not in this league.

Clearing his throat and trying to get his thoughts in order, he introduced himself. ‘Sebastian Fanshaw.’ As he said his first name a combination of a gust of wind, a crack and flap of canvas and a bout of heavy-duty swearing from a nearby soldier meant the first syllable of his name was lost.

‘Bastion?’ said the vision. ‘Like the camp in Afghanistan?’

Quite why Seb didn’t put her right in that instant he couldn’t explain – not even to himself. ‘Bastian – with an ‘a’.’

‘And I’m Michelle Flowers. Pleased to meet you. Can I call you Bas for short?’

Again Seb didn’t even stop to think. ‘Of course.’ He smiled at her. Shit, she was gorgeous. ‘So, are you the boss here?’

Michelle nodded. ‘Something like that. Whip-cracker in chief, that’s me.’

Seb grinned. ‘So, Miss Whiplash, are you staying for the rowing?’

Michelle shook her head. ‘Hey, I don’t think we know each other nearly well enough for you to use that name. Only special friends are allowed to do that.’

Funny, flirty
and
gorgeous, thought Seb.

‘No,’ continued Michelle, ‘I’m here to supervise this lot and see the tents get put up properly.’

‘You don’t know what you might be missing out on.’

‘I don’t think rowing’s my style.’

‘Really? I mean you’re tall enough and it stands to reason you’re fit. And given the fact that you’ve got long limbs you might be very good at it.’

Michelle wrinkled her nose in a way that made Seb’s heart miss a beat. ‘Yeah, well, whatever, but I’ve heard what some of those Olympic rowers said about the pain. I might be in the army and I might be whip-cracker in chief but I’m not into masochism.’

‘Shame,’ said Seb.

Michelle let out a very unladylike guffaw. ‘Do I look like I want to visit the Red Room of Pain?’

‘The what?’

Michelle shook her head. ‘Look, if you don’t know about the Red Room of Pain, I don’t think I ought to be the one to tell you about it. Google it when you get a chance. Nuff said.’ She shot Seb another naughty smile, which he found completely disconcerting.

‘Anyway,’ he said, ‘why don’t you give rowing a whirl? What are you doing this weekend?’

‘Stuck here mostly. Well, that’s not exactly true but I don’t think I’ll be finished here till late and then I’ve got to be back with the guys on Sunday morning to take it all down again.’

‘There you go. Your weekend seems to be a bit of a car crash as you’ve been lemoned to sort stuff out for me and the rowers, so why not hang around on Saturday and give it a go? What have you got to lose? And you never know, you might even enjoy it. If you’re hopeless—’

‘Thanks for the vote of confidence.’

‘If you’re hopeless, we’ll call it quits and I’ll never make you get in a boat again. But you never know, you might be the new Katherine Grainger.’

‘Yeah, right.’

‘Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.’

‘Well, as my mother said, try everything once except Morris dancing and incest.’

‘Exactly. So on that basis you’ll give it a go?’

‘OK.’ She gave him a wide smile. ‘Why not? You’ve persuaded me. So as soon as we’ve got the camp sorted I’ll pop back to barracks and get my sports kit and see you back here on Saturday morning.’

‘Or you could come back later today. There a double scull on that trailer. I could take you out on the water – give you a head start. Then there’s a cracking pub down the road. If you do well enough I’ll buy you supper.’

‘Deal,’ said Michelle.

‘Deal indeed.’

Sam was lying on her bed reading her Kindle in a desultory way for want of anything better to do. Later she was going to get her hair cut but right now she was killing time. Her laundry was done and hanging up in the drying room, she’d been for a run, she’d bulled her parade shoes and tidied her room. And now she was bored, very bored. Her mobile rang. Idly she picked it off the duvet. Ooh, Michelle; she hoped her friend was ringing for some full-on girly gossip and not a quick call.

‘Hi, hon, how’s the work detail going? Is it as grim as you thought it would be?’ Sam flopped back against the pillows propped up against the headboard and winced; she’d forgotten again about the lump on her head. And the fact that she’d bashed it earlier that morning when she’d brushed her hair hadn’t helped matters either.