Soldiers' Wives (3 page)

Chrissie introduced herself and reasoned that maybe she wouldn't feel happy either, if she hadn't seen her bloke for months.

‘Jenna,' said her new acquaintance. ‘And thanks for the invite.' She put her mobile and her drink on the table.

‘No worries,' said Chrissie. ‘Nice to meet you.' She smiled at Immi's friend, who smiled back, but with a slight air of dissatisfaction.

‘I haven't seen you down Zoë's place.'

‘No, well…' Chrissie was spared having to explain that she wasn't really into that sort of stuff, by Jenna's phone trilling.

‘'Scuse me,' Jenna said as she picked it up. ‘Oooh, yes… Lovely… In the corner… Yeah, see you in two ticks, hon.' Her face was transformed by a happy smile.

‘Your old man going to make it, then?' said Immi. ‘We're going to get to meet him at last?'

Jenna nodded, still grinning. ‘I'm hoping that now he's back for a bit, we can get someone to sort out a quarter for us. I'm sick of living at my mum's.'

‘I can imagine,' said Immi.

‘I mean don't get me wrong, I love my mum, but I can't take her new bloke, Pete. He's a creep – don't know what she sees in him but she says I'm just being a cow. I swear he fancies our Shona more than my mum. It's just the way he sometimes looks at her, and she's only seventeen…'

‘That's not nice,' murmured Immi.

‘No, it isn't, and I told Mum, but she says I'm imagining it and won't listen. I just hope I'm wrong.' Jenna shuddered. ‘And Mum's been tricky about me moving back home – I think Shona got used to having her own room and now she's kicking off 'cos she's having to share and Mum is getting fed up with that…' Jenna sighed. ‘But it wasn't my fault my job in London went tits up,' she finished, morosely.

‘I didn't know you'd worked there,' said Immi.

Jenna shook her head. ‘It was pants, it didn't work out, it was a dream job.' A wistful look came into her eyes.

‘So what was it?' asked Immi.

‘I got an apprenticeship as a stylist with Marky Markham—'

‘No shit!' squealed Immi.

Jenna nodded. ‘Straight up.'

Chrissie was at a loss. Who the hell was Marky Markham? But Immi was impressed so presumably Jenna had landed something good.

‘Yeah,' continued Jenna, ‘it was a fab job but the pay was shit and the cost of living in London meant I could barely afford to eat. It was a nightmare. It broke my heart when I had to throw in the towel, because half of his clients are like A-listers. I mean I've shampooed some well famous hair – Kylie's, Davina's, the Duchess of Wotserface's, loads…'

‘Wow. Fantastic.'

‘That bit was but the pay…' She shook her head and sighed.

‘That's so wrong,' sympathised Immi.

Jenna snorted disgustedly. ‘And unfair. Just because I couldn't rely on the bank of Mum and Dad. There were two other apprentices but they were from like Epsom and Kingston,' her voice dripped with sarcasm as she said the place names, ‘and it didn't matter to them if their pay was crap. Mummy and Daddy bailed them out.' She rolled her eyes. ‘Like my mum, with Shona and the twins all still at home, could do the same for me. And it didn't help that Scuzzy Pete was out of work at the time and sponging off her, so there was even less chance of her having any spare cash.'

‘Oh, hon, that's so unfair.'

‘Wasn't it just,' said Jenna, looking angry and upset in equal measure. Then she tossed her beautiful hair defiantly. ‘Gotta move on though, and I'm going to show everyone. One day I'm going to be a bigger and better hairdresser than Marky Markham.'

‘Go, you,' said Immi. She leaned over and put her hand on Jenna's. ‘And you know what? I totes believe in you.'

‘Thanks. I'll be living the dream soon; got the gorgeous husband, I'll soon have the house and then all I need is the salon and I'll be on my way. I'm already in with a load of the officers' wives, who can afford the sort of prices I'd like to charge. And talking of gorgeous hubby…' She waved. ‘Over here, babe,' she called.

‘Nice one,' said Immi,
sotto voce
to Chrissie, as they both clocked the gorgeous hubby – which he certainly was. ‘No wonder Jenna's missed him, anyone would.' Immi was right; any girl with a pulse would want to keep this Zac Efron lookalike – thickly lashed eyes, level brows and smiley mouth – close to her. But it wasn't just dark eyes and white, even teeth; this guy was tanned, tall and fantastically built. Frankly, thought Chrissie, he could be the British Army's poster boy.

He hooked out a chair at their table with his foot and sat down, leaning over to give Jenna a kiss. Jenna instantly wrapped her arms around him and gave every impression she was trying to eat him.

Immi and Chrissie both turned their attention to their drinks. They'd sunk a good half of them by the time Jenna came up for air.

‘Hi.' Immi extended her hand. ‘I'm Immi, what's your name?'

‘Nice to meet you, Immi, I'm Lee Perkins,' he answered, in a heavy Geordie accent.

Chrissie's drink fell out of her hand and dropped onto the table where the glass shattered and sticky Bacardi and Coke spilled across the polished wood before splattering onto the floor.

‘Fuck,' she exclaimed.

‘You want to be careful about saying that, bonny lass,' said Lee lazily. ‘Some soldiers might take it as an invitation.'

Well, I wouldn't say no, thought Chrissie. God, he was gorgeous without his cam cream on, the most fanciable bloke she'd ever met in the flesh and she felt an instant and instinctive surge of raw lust, despite the fact she knew he was Jenna's husband. So she kept her face turned away from him as she raced off to the bar to get a replacement drink, and a damp cloth and dustpan to clear up the mess. She hoped to God that Lee hadn't recognised her because, looks or no looks, if he was like most soldiers she'd encountered in her nine months in the army, he'd tell everyone about what he'd done and how she'd reacted. She'd be a laughing stock – a medic who couldn't cope with the sight of blood. OK, it had been worse than that, but, as Chrissie well knew, soldiers weren't fussy about the honest truth when it came to a good anecdote. But thankfully, when she returned to her table Lee and Jenna were once again engrossed in each other.

‘What's up with you?' asked Immi, as Chrissie got busy with clearing up the mess.

Chrissie felt her face flushing. ‘Nothing,' she mumbled, not looking up.

‘Nothing, my arse,' hissed Immi. ‘What do you know about Lee?'

‘
Nothing
,' protested Chrissie more loudly. Did Immi
really
want to know that her mate's husband was the soldier who had had a few kilos of pig guts strapped around his waist a couple of days earlier? That this was the guy she'd honked over? Probably not. And, even if Immi did, she couldn't be trusted not to open her mouth and say something daft. No, least said, soonest mended… or something.

‘When he said his name you jumped like you'd been stung.'

‘No, I didn't.' God, why couldn't Immi give it a rest?

Immi raised her eyebrows and shrugged. ‘Have it your way. Anyway, it doesn't matter; it isn't as if he's available. More's the pity.'

‘You can't blame him for going for Jenna, though,' Chrissie said. ‘She's very pretty.'

‘So she bloody should be, given that she works in the beauty industry. All that access to all those lovely products. Have you ever thought of having your hair coloured?' said Immi, examining the ends of her rich chestnut hair: this week's colour of choice.

Chrissie shook her head. ‘It's just so much faff. And you keep having to have the roots done or it looks rank. Frankly, I'd rather go for a decent run than spend hours having my hair dyed.'

‘You could do it yourself.'

Chrissie shook her head. ‘You know what a prat I am when it comes to stuff like that. I'd mess it up and end up with green hair, or something. Can you imagine what the boss would say?'

Their platoon sergeant was nearly as ferocious as the RSM and another person to avoid getting on the wrong side of. Outlandish hair would be certain to press Sergeant Wilkes's buttons.

‘Oh, get a room,' murmured Immi, as Lee and Jenna started snogging again. ‘You know, from what Jenna's told me, she'd barely met Lee before she got him up the aisle. I mean, I know looks-wise he's quite a catch, but I can't see why civvies like Jenna want to date soldiers, let alone marry them. They're never around, they're always in fights—'

‘On the other hand,' interrupted Chrissie, ‘they've got money in their pockets and some girls have a thing about blokes in uniform.'

And this last was, Chrissie knew, one of Immi's reasons for joining. In fact, as far as Chrissie could see, Immi's
only
motivation, given the amount of time she spent chatting up the male soldiers. All the other things the army might provide – comradeship, sport, excitement – Immi ignored. While Chrissie had been picked for the battalion athletics team and had hopes of getting into the hockey team, Immi only just managed to scrape through her annual fitness test and threw a strop if she was made to do anything that involved leaving the comfort of her clerical job in the 1st Battalion, the Hertfordshire Regiment's orderly room. The thought of rushing round battlefields like Chrissie might have to, picking up wounded soldiers, was Immi's idea of hell on earth.

Lee extricated himself from Jenna's grasp. She was a beautiful girl, no doubt about that, and he knew they made a smashing couple – 1 Herts' very own Posh and Becks – but just sometimes he wished she could be a little less full-on. He was getting fed up with all the leg-pulling his comrades dished out to him about being married – suggesting that he needed Jenna's permission for everything: blowing his nose, taking a dump… and snogging like this in Tommy's Bar wasn't going to help matters any.

‘I can't stay long,' he told her.

‘Lee! I've barely seen you for weeks, months even. Just the odd poxy weekend.' She pouted. ‘It's not fair.'

‘It'll be better when we get a quarter. I'll go and see the new boss as soon as I can. I've heard on the grapevine he's a sound bloke. And he's married, so he should be sympathetic.' His new platoon commander had only been posted in to the company at the start of the exercise, so Lee hadn't encountered him yet, but the rumour was that he was OK.

‘We could still go somewhere tonight,' wheedled Jenna. ‘Come on, sweetie,' she cooed, putting her hand on his crotch and giving the bulge there a gentle rub. ‘You know you want to.' She rubbed harder. ‘Doesn't your genie want to come out and play?'

Lee removed her hand. ‘Jenna, I'm knackered.'

‘Just a quickie? Please. Just for me?'

Lee relented. Why not? Shit, if he was getting all the flak for being married, he might as well make full use of the benefits. ‘Oh, OK then. Get your coat, you've pulled.'

Jenna leapt up with a squeal of delight. ‘Oooh, Lee Perkins, I do love you!'

They said a hurried goodbye to Immi and Chrissie before pushing their way through the crowds of soldiers in the bar, ignoring the lewd gestures, the catcalls and the ‘we-know-where-you're-going' comments, and back into the fresh air.

Ten minutes later Jenna was struggling up the uneven path behind the barracks in her high heels while Lee marvelled that she could walk in them at all, especially over this rough terrain. Finally she declared they'd gone far enough not to be tripped over by other couples from the barracks also in search of some privacy, although Lee suspected that her shoes had more to do with this than their distance from the camp.

‘Come here, you,' said Jenna, turning Lee to face her. She gave him a deep probing kiss, as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tightly against his lean body. They were well away from the paths and byways where keep-fit fanatics might be out on an evening run, and oblivious to the scents and noises of the twilight, being utterly absorbed in each other.

Then Jenna drew back and took the poncho that Lee had in his hand, unfurling it with a deft flick of her wrist on the ground.

‘Come on, Lee,' she said as she knelt on it. She lay back and began to unbutton first her thick jumper and then the top she had on underneath.

Lee hunkered down next to her and gazed at her body.

‘Look, sweetie,' she said, propping her naked top half up on an elbow so her breasts jiggled tantalisingly, ‘much as I'd love to spend the whole night posing for you, it's bloody cold and I'm about to get frostbite. So get your kit off, there's a love, and get on with it.'

As chat-up lines went it wasn't wonderful, thought Lee, but he was used to obeying orders and anyway, it was what they were here for. Besides, she did have a point, it was perishing. In a matter of seconds he had his shirt off and trousers down and was lying naked next to Jenna with his multicam combat jacket over the top of them for extra warmth. He felt her hand slide down his torso and then onto his hip. Slowly, he could feel her fingers tiptoe over his skin towards his cock. In the afterglow of the sunset and the lights from the barracks reflected off the autumn clouds, he could see her smiling at him.

‘You warm enough now?' he whispered as he brushed his thumb over her nipple. Jenna shivered, but Lee wasn't sure whether it was from desire or the cold.

‘I will be in a minute.' She gave a naughty giggle as her fingers finally lighted on his penis, which instantly responded. She kissed his nose.

Lee slid his hand between her legs and, finding her deliciously wet and ready, plunged in and began his rhythmic thrusting. Beneath him, Jenna squirmed and made obligingly encouraging noises, and Lee pumped deeper and harder until Jenna made some little yips of delight as she raked her fingernails down his back. A minute later Lee came too and he collapsed, spent and trembling on top of her, his body slick with sweat.