Soldiers' Wives (26 page)

‘That'd be nice. I spoke to Immi the other day, who bitched about being bored. I told her to get her arse out here – that'd stop any of that bollocks.'

It was Lee's turn to laugh. ‘Can you imagine Immi and all the blokes here?'

Chrissie chuckled. ‘Let's not go there.'

‘Who's Immi?' asked Phil.

‘A clerk in Battalion HQ,' said Lee. ‘You must have seen her around the barracks. Brunette, long legs, big blue eyes…'

‘Sometimes brunette,' said Chrissie. ‘She changed to that from blond and before that she was a redhead.'

‘Oh, her,' said Phil. ‘Yes, I know her. Not really my type, though.'

‘Really?' said Chrissie archly.

‘Not my sort at all. I can see the attraction, though.'

‘You must be one of the very few blokes in the battalion who doesn't dream of getting into her knickers. And one of a small group who haven't succeeded,' said Lee. ‘Myself excluded. Happily married bloke and all that.'

‘Hey,' said Chrissie, ‘I know she's got a bit of a reputation, but that was harsh.' But she laughed because although Lee had exaggerated hugely about Immi, it was quite funny.

‘Sorry,' said Lee, not looking as if he was in the least.

Chrissie changed the subject. ‘When will you be fit to go back?'

‘A couple of days, at the most. As soon as they're sure I'm clear of any infection, that'll be it – back on the next supply truck.'

An alarm sounded over the tannoy. All movement and conversation on the ward stopped and attention was swivelled to the speaker in the corner.

‘Op Minimise, Op Minimise,' said the disembodied voice. ‘All personnel are to be aware that Op Minimise is now in force.'

‘Fuck,' said Chrissie. ‘Gotta go, Lee, we may be needed. Come and find me, when you're up again. I'm with the MERT,' she called over her shoulder, because she was already legging it down the ward with Phil racing behind her.

When they arrived back at their HQ, they found that it was an American team that had been tasked.

‘Not one of ours,' said Chrissie, panting but relieved.

‘No,' said Phil, ‘but it doesn't make it any better, does it?'

Jenna stared at the email.
Going 2 try to skype this evening. Xxx
. She wondered why. They'd only spoken on the satphone the previous week, and Lee didn't seem to have had much news then. What else was there to tell her about the minging place he was in, or the rubbish food he got to eat? And she didn't have much to say to him. Besides, what news she did have was hardly good: that the housing commandant had tried to shut her business down, she'd burned her bridges with Zoë, and all the appointments she had had in her diary had suddenly been cancelled – all the snotty officers' wives who used to queue to get their hair done with her had suddenly decided they couldn't make the dates they'd booked and didn't know when they'd be able to come back. Jenna knew who to blame. Sodding Milward. He was at the bottom of this. He would have put the word out and the wives would have followed like sheep. She'd seen enough of the military to know that wives thought that if they didn't toe the party line, they could wreck their husbands' careers. Frankly, Jenna rather doubted that this was really the case, but they seemed to think it was so. Baa-baa.

So did she really want to break the news to Lee that she was effectively unemployed and unemployable? All that time, money and effort to set everything up, and then one interfering little Hitler and it had all come tumbling down.

Jenna sighed heavily and looked around the sitting room. The payments on the furniture weren't cheap, and the TV had rinsed what was left of Lee's savings after she'd paid for the bathroom. She wondered how she'd be able to juggle the finances so she could honour the credit agreements, and what if she couldn't? She wasn't even going to think about the cost of restoring the bathroom back to its original state – not that she had to face
that
expense till they moved out, but even so. Yes, indeed, a Skype call from Lee was the last fucking thing she needed tonight.

She considered not switching on her laptop, but Lee would just phone her mobile, using the satphone, so one way or another, she'd end up talking to him. She sighed again. She was being unfair – of course she wanted to talk to him, but she just wished
she
could pick the times when they did. Not that that was possible – she understood that. Damn the army, she thought for about the umpteenth time that day. And damn Lee Perkins for being a part of it. It didn't cross Jenna's mind that she'd been the one so keen to marry a soldier and get a quarter that she'd practically frogmarched Lee to the altar.

She reached forward and pressed the button on the side of her lappie and watched the machine wind itself up. When the screen had settled down, she hit the Skype icon and made sure the volume was switched on, so she'd hear the notification when Lee called. Then she went into the kitchen, got a bottle of Chablis out of the fridge and helped herself to a large glass. So what that it was only three in the afternoon? There was sod all else to do.

Maddy answered the doorbell and found Caro standing outside, a sheaf of paper in one hand and Luke grasped firmly in the other.

‘Hi, Caro, hello, Luke, what can I do for you?'

Caro let go of Luke, who instantly pushed his way into the house. She peeled a sheet of paper off the top of the pile and handed it to Maddy. ‘Wives' Club ad. Put it up in your window, would you, hon?'

‘Of course,' said Maddy, without looking at it. ‘Cuppa? I mean, you might as well now that Luke has already made himself at home,' she added with a grin.

‘Oh, go on,' said Caro. ‘It'll have to be quick though as I want to hand out the rest of these.'

Maddy led the way into the kitchen where Luke was already playing with Nate's toys. She put the piece of paper on the counter and filled the kettle.

‘Changing the subject,' said Caro. ‘Fancy going shopping over the weekend?'

‘I dunno,' said Maddy. ‘I mean I'd love to, but Seb's got a regatta on Saturday.'

Caro shook her head. ‘Hello… shops are open on Sundays, too, now. He can't be rowing all weekend, can he?'

‘No,' Maddy conceded.

‘So isn't it time he did a bit more bonding with his son? Look, tell you what, I'll cook up a giant shepherd's pie – enough for my three, plus Seb – and Seb can spend the day here with Will, they can have a couple of beers together, watch the Six Nations rugby or whatever while we bugger off and have a girls' day out.'

‘God, that sounds so tempting.'

‘So why not? What did you have planned for Sunday?'

‘Honestly? The ironing.'

‘No-brainer, then. See you Sunday, around ten. And tell Seb he'll have me to contend with if he says no.'

After Caro had gone Maddy looked at the flyer. ‘Talk by local stylist,' she read under her breath. Shit, Caro was going ahead with the talk on hairdressing with Jenna. Maddy sighed. Why did she have the feeling it was going to cause trouble?

Eight thousand miles away, Chrissie made her way for the second time that day to the ward where Lee was being treated.

‘Hi, Lee,' she said when she got to his bedside. ‘I brought you these.' She chucked a couple of magazines on the locker by his bed. ‘I'm afraid there wasn't much of a choice in the NAAFI. Phil suggested I might be able to see if there are some mags in the welfare packages that may have been finished with. I'm going to have a scout around tomorrow and see what I can get you.'

‘Thanks, that's kind,' said Lee, but he didn't look that chuffed. In fact, he looked completely down.

‘No worries.' Chrissie gave him a long stare. ‘You all right? Your knee isn't giving you gyp, is it?'

‘No, the knee's fine.'

‘So what is it? You look shagging miserable. I thought you said you liked it here: decent scoff, nice bed, proper bogs…'

‘I said, I'm fine.'

Chrissie sat on the chair beside him. ‘Want to talk about it?'

‘Not really.'

‘Want me to go?'

Lee shook his head. ‘Not really,' he admitted.

‘Then what
do
you want?'

He sighed. ‘It's Jenna,' he admitted finally.

Why doesn't that surprise me? thought Chrissie. She forbore to ask
What's she done now
and instead said, ‘What's the matter?'

‘I know it's tough for her, I know she's been left all by herself, but I've just Skyped a call to her and firstly, she was pissed, and it could only have been about six o'clock UK time.'

‘It's not a crime, Lee,' said Chrissie. ‘It's not like you've never been pissed, is it?'

‘Lots of times, but she must have been drinking all afternoon. Why wasn't she working?'

‘Day off?'

‘Maybe, but she was really cagey about what she'd been up to. Chris, I think she wasn't levelling with me. And it wasn't just that, she's spent a fortune on the quarter. I could see new sofas and a big flat-screen TV, there was a rug on the floor… It must've all cost a mint.'

‘It
was
pretty grotty before,' said Chrissie.

‘I know, but… oh, Chrissie, what do I know about interior decorating, but does it really matter if the place is in clip-state, when it's an army quarter?'

‘Maybe it does to her. You know how much she likes to look nice herself. Maybe she wants her house to reflect that.'

Lee looked at her. ‘That's what I really like about you, Chrissie. You like to find the good in people.'

Chrissie pulled a face. ‘Listen, hon, Mother Teresa I am
not
. I can bitch with the best. Honest.'

‘Nice to know you're human, then.'

‘Very.'

‘Maybe you're right. Maybe I'm just worried, because I've got nothing better to do.'

Chrissie nodded. ‘For a bet. I'm sure everything is fine. Honest.' She smiled at Lee and he smiled back. Her heart did that little flick-flack and, not for the first time, her resolve to stay completely independent wobbled a fraction.

‘So what's it like on the MERT?' Lee asked.

‘Either it's mad excitement and adrenalin and we're rushing about like headless chickens, or I'm bored to sobs, hanging around waiting for a call. Of course it's better to be bored, we all know that, but it gets you down after a bit.'

‘So what do you do?'

‘Mainly I watch films with Phil.'

‘Phil?'

Was she imagining things, or did Lee sound jealous? Of course he didn't – why on earth would he be? ‘He's a nice guy, and he's into old movies, like me. We have a right laugh, watching some of the really ancient ones.'

‘That's nice. What's wrong with
Avatar
, then, or
Resident Evil
?'

‘Nothing, if you like that sort of thing, but I just like the old ones. You know,
Gone With the Wind
,
Citizen Kane
,
Meet Me in St Louis
…'

Lee shook his head. ‘Chrissie, I haven't a shagging clue what you're on about.'

‘Really? You don't know what you're missing.'

‘I think I do,' he said. ‘I think I do.'

After Chrissie had gone, Lee lay in his bed and thought about her. He was glad she had Phil, who seemed genuinely fond of her. The two certainly seemed to have a lot in common, and he had no right to feel jealous, but for some unfathomable reason he did. Chrissie was
his
mate, not Phil's.

Chrissie gave Lee a friendly hug. He was out of bed, fully clothed and hefting his day sack. ‘I'm glad you're all fixed up,' she said, ‘but I'm
not
glad you're going back to the front line.'

‘It's my job, Chrissie.'

‘I know, but all the same… And remember what I said about looking where you put your feet. I see what IEDs can do and it's not pretty.'

‘I'll be all right,' said Lee, with bravado.

‘It's what they all say.' Chrissie reached into her pocket. ‘Tell me to naff off but…' She pulled out a tatty little teddy bear attached to her key ring. ‘This is Fred Bear. Mum gave this to me when she got too ill to get me from school and I had to do the journey on my own. He's kept me safe till now and now I'd like him to look after you.' She told herself that Lee was the only soldier on the front line that she knew really well – well enough to worry about. If she had enough talismans for every single soldier she'd cheerfully hand them all over, but she didn't, so Lee got first dibs. That was all it was.

‘I can't take your mascot, Chrissie.' Did Lee's eyes look suspiciously bright or was it just a trick of the light?

‘I'm not taking no for an answer. If you don't, I'll just send him up in the post. And anyway, the ring attached to him is just perfect for the chain with your dog tags.'

Lee gave in. ‘That's really kind, Chrissie.'

‘I don't mean for him to replace any token Jenna gave you,' said Chrissie, as she took the little bear off her key ring. ‘He's an
as-well-as
lucky charm, not an
instead-of
one.'

‘Jenna doesn't believe in that sort of stuff.'

‘She didn't give you…?' Chrissie couldn't believe it.

‘Nah, well… I rely on skill anyway.' Lee threaded Fred onto his dog-tag chain and tucked him inside his combat jacket. ‘He'll be safe in there till I can give him back to you.'

‘You'd better look after him. I shall be really cross if you let him get hurt.'

Lee grinned. ‘We'll look out for each other.' He stared at her. ‘Well, I'd better get going. My carriage awaits.'

‘Yes. Take care then.'

‘You too.'

And without warning, Lee dived in and planted a big kiss on her cheek. Before Chrissie could say anything, he'd turned on his heel and walked away, down the canvas corridor that led out of the hospital. Chrissie watched his retreating back till he turned a corner and was lost from sight. She wasn't the least bit religious, but all the same she offered up a prayer to any god that might be hanging around and feeling benevolent, to look after him. As she went back to the MERT ready room, she wondered if Jenna bothered with prayers. Probably not.