Soldier's Daughters (34 page)

He began to stow his camera away.

‘That you finished?’ said Immi, watching him work.

‘I’ve got what I want here. Now I’m going over to the village.’

‘Is it far?’

‘’Bout a mile. I thought we’d walk—’

‘Walk!’

‘Yeah, you know, putting one foot in front of the other.’

Immi narrowed her eyes. ‘Don’t you get smart with me, Mr BBC Reporter.’

Jack laughed. ‘I want to get a feel for what the kids have had to do to get to and from school. Only they have to walk about four times the distance, morning and night. So… you coming?’

‘But what about lions and shit like that?’

Jack looked at her. ‘And what do you think the kids have for protection when they walk to school?’

‘But…’

Jack raised his eyebrows. ‘Oh, go on. Live dangerously.’

‘It’s
dying
dangerously that bothers me.’ Immi sighed. ‘Oh, come on, then. The sooner we go, the sooner some bloody lion gets its lunch.’

She picked up her daysack, shoved several litre bottles of water into it and set off.

‘Oi,’ said Jack.

Immi spun around. ‘Come on,’ she called back.

‘You’re going the wrong way.’

‘Fuck.’ She retraced her steps and together they set off through the scrub to the village.

Maddy sat at her kitchen table, spooning mashed avocado into Nathan’s mouth, while Jenna sat beside her and toyed with a glass of wine.

‘I feel guilty about drinking your wine when you aren’t having any,’ she said.

‘God, don’t you dare,’ said Maddy. ‘You’ve done more than enough already and this is the least I can do to thank you.’ She scraped out the bowl and shoved the last spoonful of green goo at Nathan. He banged his hands on the tray of his high chair in appreciation and smacked his lips.

‘More,’ he said.

‘Sorry, hon. All gone.’ Maddy showed him the empty bowl.

‘Gone,’ repeated Nathan.

Maddy handed him a breadstick to chew on and then levered herself to her feet. As she straightened up she winced.

‘Ouch,’ she said. She leaned against the counter and breathed slowly.

‘You all right?’

‘Yeah, fine. The little bugger is being really active today.’ And it didn’t help matters that her back seemed to be aching. Not so surprising, she thought, with all this extra weight to carry.

‘Bugger,’ said Nathan.

Maddy looked at him aghast as Jenna hooted with laughter.

‘Ain’t that typical,’ said Jenna. ‘You’d best hope he forgets that word again before his daddy comes home.’

‘Bugger, bugger, bugger,’ crowed Nathan.

‘I’m going to pretend I’m not hearing this,’ said Maddy. ‘If I say anything I’ll probably make things worse.’

She opened the oven door and the smell of warm quiche wafted into the kitchen. She looked at the tart and decided that it looked ready to serve so she hauled it out and plonked it on the table. Then she reached into the fridge and took out a bowl of salad.

‘Blimey,’ said Jenna. ‘This is a bit healthy, isn’t it?’

‘Well, if it was just me I wouldn’t bother much but I kind of feel responsible for junior here. I can probably survive pretty well without my five-a-day but…’ She patted the bump.

They all tucked into their lunch. Maddy let Nathan use his hands to eat his quiche so she and Jenna could get on with their meal uninterrupted.

‘So,’ said Jenna. ‘What are you going to do?’

Maddy gazed at her. ‘You mean about Seb?’

Jenna nodded.

Once again Maddy’s eyes filled with tears. What was the matter with her? She was so emotional. ‘I don’t know. I mean, I don’t even know if this woman is telling the truth. Supposing she’s out to cause trouble? Supposing she’s lying about going with Seb.’

‘Is that what you think?’

‘I’ve got to.’ Maddy gulped. ‘If I’m wrong, and there really is something going on, what happens to us?’ She gazed at Nathan and then her bump.

Jenna put her hand over Maddy’s. ‘Whatever happens, I’ll be here for you. You were kind to me once. I’d like to repay the favour. But we’ve got to hope it doesn’t come to that.’

‘The thing is,’ admitted Maddy, ‘if it is true, can I ever trust him again? I feel sick every time I even think about it. I mean, how could he?’

‘Take it from me, Mads, soldiers like shagging. Their brains are in their bollocks and they can only think with their dicks. Of course, officers might be different but that’s what squaddies are like.’

Maddy gave a weak laugh. ‘The trouble is what with morning sickness and now being so utterly huge Seb’s not been getting much… any, really.’

‘So, do you really believe that if another girl gives him the come-on…?’

Maddy sighed. ‘I don’t know. I don’t want to believe he would be like that. But that doubt is there now. Maybe I should pretend I’ve never had any contact with Michelle. Never mention Michelle, and what she said, to him or anyone. Maybe if I behave like an ostrich it’ll all go away.’ She shook her head. ‘And if it is true, given how rubbish I’ve been as a wife lately, I can’t really blame him, can I?

‘Oh, yes, you fu…’ Jenna shot a look at Nathan. ‘Oh, yes, you can. Well, I would. Maybe you’re a nicer person.’

‘Maybe I’ve got more to lose. If he leaves me I become an irregular occupant and the army has the right to kick me out of this place in six months. Jen, how would I cope with being homeless with two tiny children?’ Maddy’s face crumpled. ‘It doesn’t matter if I trust him or not – I can’t risk putting the kids through that. Jen, if he comes back I think I’ve got to pretend that nothing ever happened.’

‘Then you’d better hope that Michelle plays along too. It’ll be a hard act to pull off if she keeps hanging around. This is why you’ve got to tell the authorities and get her stopped.’

Maddy sniffed. ‘You’re right, and I will do it, promise. On Monday.’ She gasped again. ‘Hell’s teeth.’ She glared at her bump. ‘Stop it, I know you don’t like Michelle either but there’s no need to lash out.’

Through the door of her tiny room Sam could see Luke sitting in the Land Rover, staring straight ahead, one hand resting on the open side of the vehicle, his fingers drumming on the metalwork. From his expression and his body language she could tell he was pissed off. Beyond pissed off.

Well, me too, buddy, thought Sam as she hefted her Bergen onto her shoulders, picked up her day sack and headed out of her cubby hole and into the bright African sun. I don’t want to trek up north any more than you do, so get over it.

‘Afternoon, Corporal,’ she said as she rolled her pack off her back and into the rear of the Rover, where it landed with a thud next to the case of water, Luke’s own Bergen, a half-dozen jerrycans of fuel and the other paraphernalia they were lugging up to the sappers’ camp. She stepped over the towbar that connected the genny to the vehicle, chucked her day sack into the footwell and then settled herself in the passenger seat beside Luke.

‘Ma’am,’ acknowledged Luke.

‘All set?’ she asked.

‘I was waiting for you,’ he said.

‘So, that’s a
yes
, then, is it?’ she said. She glanced across at him and wondered why she felt unnerved by his proximity. No, not unnerved but definitely unsettled. It was, she was sure, because he was such a closed book, and yet there was definitely something edgy about him. As Luke started the engine and drove towards the camp gates he looked across at her with the intensity that rattled her. She buckled up her seat belt to cover up her confusion.

On the dash was a millboard with a range map clipped to it.

‘Will you need me to map read?’ she asked, as she reached for it, but Luke beat her to it and snatched it away. He flipped up the map and showed her the route card he’d written out.

‘I know my way,’ he said.

He shoved the map back on the dash as the Rover bounced and jounced over the rutted dirt track that led through the camp. Finally they were through the barrier and then onto the black top and Luke was able to move up through the gears and get some speed on. Or he was until they hit the town of Nanyuki and the bonkers traffic of the sprawling town. Almost as soon as the houses and shops sprang up along the road the traffic increased exponentially and they were back to a crawl. Sheesh, at this rate, if they got to the sappers’ base before nightfall it would be a miracle. Sam watched him carefully manoeuvre through the traffic, avoiding the other cars, the pedestrians wandering around in the warm sunshine, the stray dogs, the donkey carts and the brightly painted matatus – the local minibus-cum-taxis that were invariably overladen and whose drivers seemed to think that they were exempt from obeying the normal laws of the road. Indicating or giving way didn’t seem to be conventions that applied to their drivers so Luke had to constantly hit the brakes to avoid collisions.

‘Look at that,’ she said, pointing at a hideous marabou stork picking over a rubbish heap.

‘I’d be better off watching the road,’ retorted Luke, as he swerved to avoid a wobbling, overladen bike.

‘Goodness,’ she said, pointing at some women in local headdress. Then, ‘Watch out,’ as a man stepped out in front of them.

Luke slapped his hands on the steering-wheel. ‘You know, ma’am, it might be easier to drive if I didn’t get the running commentary.’ He shot her a look. ‘Just saying.’

Sam felt momentarily crushed. ‘If that’s what you want,’ she replied coldly.

Finally they got through the town and out onto the open highway and could really begin to motor. Once they moved past thirty miles per hour the Land Rover engine gave out the familiar high-pitched whine and Blake settled himself into his seat, his arm resting on the vehicle’s side, steering with one hand. With her driver looking more relaxed Sam felt the tension leach out of her shoulders. There was still plenty to look at: farm animals wandering into the road; donkey carts ambling along; motorcycles with teetering piles of trade goods bound for the local market, or just far too many passengers; and now and again a dik-dik hurtled across the road in front of them, or a flock of bright birds flashed through the nearby trees. But best of all, dominating the right-hand horizon, was the vast majesty of Mount Kenya, with its fist of rugged rock, punching into the sky. Sam thought she could make out some snow on it.

Sometimes they drove through ramshackle villages with the houses made of breeze-block walls and tin roofs or planks and thatch but with a cat’s cradle of cables hanging over the road, and beside it were rickety stalls laden with produce or market goods. Occasionally there was a mosque or a church and then a filling station, which was an exact clone of ones that you might see in the UK and so bizarrely out of place. They passed farms and smallholdings and sometimes they passed bigger farming operations, which were mind-blowing.

‘Blimey!’ said Sam as they drove past one of the biggest glasshouses she had ever seen. ‘What on earth can they grow in a thing that size? It must cover miles and miles of land.’ She stared at Blake. ‘Do you know what they grow here?’

‘Flowers.’

‘Flowers?’

‘Cut flowers, for Tesco and the like.’

‘You’re joking.’

‘I don’t joke.’

No, I bet you bloody don’t. Sam lapsed back into silence and wondered why on earth a country on a continent where half the population seemed to be on the brink of starvation would want to grow something as useless as flowers. It made sense in Holland but not here.

‘It’s a lucrative cash crop,’ said Blake.

‘Thank you, Blake.’

They drove on and on, with yet more glasshouses flanking the road for miles until suddenly the glass stopped and fields of arable crops began; fields of plants that looked remarkably like wheat or barley so Sam felt she’d left the Netherlands and now she was in East Anglia. She wished it looked more like Africa. This wasn’t what she’d expected at all. Mount Kenya was spectacular but she thought a lot of the rest of the country they were driving through could have been almost anywhere. Not even a hint of an elephant, she thought morosely.

And then suddenly she got her wish – or at least as far as the countryside was concerned. The road came to the edge of an escarpment and ahead was the most astounding, breath-taking view Sam had ever encountered. Stretching away to a way-distant horizon and hundreds and hundreds of feet below them was the African plain.

‘Wow!’ breathed Sam. For miles in front of her were the lion-coloured grasslands of Kenya, dotted with spreading acacia trees and scrubby thorns and with occasional pimples of hills popping up randomly. She followed the path of the road as it snaked down the escarpment and then shot off like an arrow across the savannah towards Archers Post. From this high vantage point she could see the signs of civilisation that fringed the road, the villages, the settlements the farms, but off to the west of the highway were miles and miles of bugger-all. Above was a cloudless blue dome of sky and the feeling of endless space was almost overwhelming. ‘Wow,’ said Sam again, to herself.

She was surprised when Blake pulled the Rover off the road and parked up on the scrubby, gravelly verge. He pulled on the handbrake and then got out and ambled off to a thicket of bushes. Sam guessed he’d gone off for a slash.

Sam jumped out, her phone at the ready and took a couple of shots of the scene. And then a selfie with Mount Kenya behind her and another with the plain as background. She checked the shots she’d taken.

‘Want me to take one of you?’

Sam nearly dropped her phone. ‘Er, yes. Thanks.’ She handed over her mobile.

Blake held it up. ‘Well, smile,’ he said.

Sam grinned inanely. She heard the click of the shutter.

Sam looked at the image. It was quite good, she thought. At least he’d made her look human and not like a loon.

Michelle stormed into her room back in Pirbright and went straight over to her mirror. Four little crescents were still faintly visible from where that blonde cow had stuck her nails in. It was nothing a bit of slap couldn’t cover up but Michelle was still angry with herself for not having fought back. It was because it had all been so unexpected. Maddy was so wet she wouldn’t say boo to the proverbial, but that other woman was a piece of work. And common, thought Michelle. What on earth would Seb think if he knew the type of female Maddy kept company with? She’d looked like a hooker and sounded like a fishwife. She was the sort, she thought, snakily, who made Essex girls look positively classy.