Soldiers' Wives (36 page)

‘Hiya, babes,' she said as she neared the bed.

Lee looked up. ‘Jenna. You made it.'

‘Of course, hon.' She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the lips. ‘I'd have come earlier,' she lied, smoothly, ‘only this new job of mine is a bugger to get away from. Anyway, how are you?' She put on her concerned face – she was good at looking as if she cared. She used to do it all the time in Zoë's when her customers were telling her about their badly behaved kids or their battles with getting repairs to their quarters.

‘Not so bad,' said Lee. ‘I'm pretty much off the painkillers, although I expect I'll be back on them again for a bit tomorrow.'

‘How come?'

Lee gestured with his good hand to the sign over his bed that read
Nil by mouth
. ‘They're going to operate on it tomorrow. Pin it together with a whole bunch of metal. It'll make getting through airport security a bastard.'

Was that a joke? She smiled just in case. ‘Poor you. Still, at least you're in the right place and getting the best treatment.'

‘Yeah, the treatment's been Gucci from start to finish. And after the op, I'll be getting moved closer to you, to this rehab centre in Surrey.'

‘Rehab? What, like the Priory?'

‘Not like that. This is for the guys who've got to learn to live with their injuries. I mean, I'm lucky, I'll just need physio. Most of the others will be learning to walk again or how to use false hands, stuff like that.'

Jenna wrinkled her nose. ‘It all sounds a bit gross to me.' Lee gave her a funny look, but she couldn't help how she felt, could she? People with bits missing
was
gross. ‘Where's your mum?'

‘She's gone back home. She's coming down again next week again, to see how I am after the op.'

Good, thought Jenna. No chance of running into the old biddy. ‘I'll see if I can get up again, only this new job means it might be tricky.'

‘Catering, isn't it?'

She nodded.

‘Sorry, Jen, but what the fuck do you know about catering? I mean, you couldn't even cook a turkey.'

‘I don't have to cook, I do waitressing at events. I can even do silver service now.'

‘So what happened to your hairdressing business? The one you set up after I left.'

So how did Lee know? Had that interfering busybody Alan Milward said something? ‘How do you mean?'

‘Captain Fanshaw told me. He said you'd tried to start your own business.'

‘Did he now.' What was it with army officers that they felt they had to interfere with every sodding thing? First Milward had pretty much put her out of business and now Fanshaw was telling tales to Lee.

‘He said you've had work done on the quarter.'

‘So?'

‘So, you didn't have permission.'

‘And?' God what was this – the Spanish Inquisition?

‘Jenna, you can't do stuff like that. It's not our house.'

‘Really? So we don't pay the rent or anything? Of course it's our house, Lee – we pay for it, we live there.'

‘The army doesn't see it like that.'

‘Then they bloody well should.' She sighed. She hadn't come here to argue with Lee, and there was no denying he'd obviously been in the wars. Duh – the Afghan war! ‘Anyway, let's not talk about stuff like that.'

‘Why, because you think I might ask about what happened to my savings?'

Jenna went cold. How the hell…? She swallowed. ‘I don't know what you mean,' she lied with a bright smile on her face.

‘Jenna, I've seen my bank statement.'

‘But…'

‘But… you never sent them on to me, so how could I? Is that what you mean?'

Jenna nodded, weakly.

‘Internet banking, Jenna. The internet is grand. I could see all those lovely new things in our quarter when I Skyped you, so I had a look at my account – or what was left of it.'

Horror struck, Jenna felt her mouth open, but nothing came out. Not a sound, not a lie, not an excuse… nothing.

‘All my savings, Jen. The savings that I thought, together with my Afghan bonus, we might use to get a foot on the property ladder – or a nice car. Nearly eight grand, Jen, that you've blown, and you've spent it on what?'

‘I was going to pay it back, Lee,' she whispered, ‘honest, but then Milward ruined everything.'

‘As I said, Jen, the army has rules about what you can do in quarters. You waited till I'd left, didn't you, so you thought I wouldn't find out. How could you, Jen?'

Again her mouth opened and shut, as her heart thundered with guilt and her blood pooled down in her ankles.

Lee was looking at her so coldly and Jenna knew with total certainty that she'd completely fucked up her marriage. Lee wasn't going to listen to excuses and if she was honest with herself, she didn't have any. She'd thought she could have things her way, that she could fight the army, but she'd made a complete mess of things.

Finally she found her voice. ‘I'll make it up to you, Lee.'

‘How?'

‘I could sell the furniture on eBay. And the telly. They're still almost new.'

Lee sighed and shook his head. ‘Drop in the ocean, but if you want to you can try.'

‘I'm so sorry, Lee.'

‘Are you? Really?' He stared at her till she lowered her eyes. ‘Go away, Jenna. Please just go away.'

‘You don't mean that, babes, do you?'

Lee nodded. ‘I do. Just go.'

‘Chrissie.' Immi's shriek could have been heard by dolphins in the Mediterranean. ‘Chrissie, babes!' Immi hurled herself across the barrack room at Chrissie, who neatly sidestepped.

‘Immi – watch me arm, Ims.'

‘Shit, Chris, I forgot. How is it? How are you?' Immi gazed at her room-mate, her eyes glistening with tears. ‘And you were so brave. Everyone says you should get a gong.'

‘What the fuck? Don't be daft.' Chrissie screwed up her face. ‘You don't get a gong for being a twat and getting in the way of a bullet.'

‘No, you get a gong for getting in the way of a bullet and still lugging a stretcher three hundred yards to the bloody chopper.'

‘It wasn't three hundred yards.'

‘Oh, who
cares
? You're back, that's the main thing. Come on, let's go to Tommy's for a celebratory one.'

‘One?' said Chrissie horrified. ‘I want a bloody sight more than that.'

‘You mean you haven't had anything to drink yet – not since you got back?'

‘Immi, I've been in hospital. Since when did the NHS serve a nice Chianti with the liver and fava beans?'

‘What?' Immi's face was a study in bafflement.

Chrissie sighed. ‘Sorry, I forgot you don't have a thing about classic films like I do.'

‘No – I have a life. Now, come on, girlfriend, get your arse in gear.'

When Chrissie got to Tommy's Bar, she found she was a bit of a celebrity. Soldiers she'd never clapped eyes on were offering to buy her drinks, asking her about her tour or her injury.

‘Told you,' said Immi, smugly.

‘Told me what?' as Chrissie sipped her first Bacardi in nearly ten weeks and felt the hit of alcohol instantly.

‘That you're a celebrity.'

‘Just don't get me out of here. Well, not till I have had a couple more.'

‘Just a couple.'

‘I'm going to be such a cheap date tonight. I'm going to be pissed in no time.'

The two girls managed to escape from the attention of their fellow soldiers and find a table in a relatively quiet corner where they could catch up with each other properly.

‘So,' said Immi, cradling her drink. ‘What are your plans?'

‘I can't go anywhere for a bit. I was allowed to leave hospital on the absolute understanding that I report to the medical centre daily to have my dressing changed and my wound checked. Once the MO gives me a clean bill of health, I can take my post-tour leave.'

‘And?'

‘And?'

‘And where are you going to go? Club Med for a wild time partying, or chill in some exotic retreat? You've got all that fantastic tour bonus to spend.'

‘God, I don't know. Neither, probably.'

‘What?'

‘It's not much fun going away on your own, is it?'

‘I'll come!'

‘I know, hon, and I'd say yes, but haven't you run out of your leave entitlement for this year?'

‘A minor detail.'

‘I don't think Sir Bates or Sergeant Wilkes'll see it like that. And to be honest, I don't think I'll be going anywhere. After all, all my mates are here.' And Lee will be back in the garrison before too long. But she couldn't mention that, not even to Immi.

Immi shook her head at Chrissie. ‘All that leave, all that money from your tour bonus, and you want to kick around the barracks. Boy, Chrissie, you really are a lost cause.'

Lee lay on his bed, his arm throbbing, despite the painkillers, and wondered what he was going to do about Jenna. He knew he could never trust her again and he knew he didn't love her. In fact, he was pretty sure he never really had. He'd been besotted, swept away, and the sex had been great, but in love? No. His mother had been right all along about her. What was the phrase – marry in haste, repent at leisure? He sighed. What a sucker he'd been, he could see that now. He'd been Jenna's means of escape from an overcrowded council house and having got away her next goal had been to achieve her ambition of having her own salon. And he'd bankrolled it. What a mug.

Jenna lay on her sofa and wondered what she was going to do. She was pretty sure Lee was never going to trust her and she was pretty sure he didn't love her, not any more. She'd fucked up good and proper and the mess she'd caused was epic. She felt a bit sorry for Lee, but he'd be all right. He had a good job, he'd get a bonus for his Afghan tour, and someone said he'd get another payout for getting injured. He wasn't going to starve, was he? So, she was the one she had to worry about now. She didn't want to be here when he got back and she wasn't going to move back in with her mum, no way, so she had to find somewhere and fast. She drummed her fingers on the coffee table as she considered her options, which didn't take long. She had no money and no job so she needed somewhere to crash. Dan.

She picked up her phone and called his number.

‘Dan? Remember me…?'

The flowering cherries were dropping their petals and the daffodils were well and truly fading by the time Lee got out of the cab. He'd been given a final clean bill of health from the army's rehabilitation centre at Headley Court that morning and had been issued with a travel warrant back to his unit. Part of him had been thrilled that he was finally fully fit, but part of him had dreaded going back home, dreaded facing the mess that Jenna had left behind. Not that he thought it would be a physical mess; she wouldn't have trashed the house out of spite, but he had the bathroom to sort, all that expensive furniture to get rid of, the house to hand back… God, how much sleep had he lost over recent nights just thinking about all he had to do? And over and above everything, he had to decide what to do about Jenna. Divorce, he supposed, but that was more expense.

He paid the driver and then eased his shoulder, rolling it back and forth, more out of habit than necessity. The weeks of physio and therapy had sorted it out and it was almost as it was before the injury. He hauled his kit bag out of the boot and made his way up to the front door. He noted the changes in the neighbourhood since he'd been away: Gary, the snotty kid from next door, had graduated from a trike to a bike with stabilisers; the neighbours opposite had a new car – or maybe they were new neighbours; and the mothy grass had been recently cut and looked almost lush.

As the taxi drove off he walked up the path and let himself in. He looked about him. So, she hadn't lied when she'd sent him a text to say she was moving out. And she'd left it clean, he'd give her that. He dropped his holdall on the carpet and wandered into the sitting room. He noticed the expensive furniture and huge TV had gone. In their place, in the middle of the carpet, was a square of paper and with it a cheque.

I sold the furniture and the telly on eBay. This is what's left after I paid off the finance company. Afraid it's not much. Jx

That was a turn-up, he thought, although it was no more than fair. He glanced at the amount on the cheque – bugger all compared to what she'd taken, but he supposed it was better than nothing.

But there was still the matter of the bathroom. He needed to see for himself what the damage was, he thought, as he climbed the stairs, so he'd better see what he'd paid for.

He opened the door and peered round it cautiously. Well, he could see why it had cost what it had. Gleaming. And he'd always preferred a shower to a bath, but his views weren't going to wash with the housing commandant. The sooner he got this quarter handed back, the sooner the barrack damages could be squared away and the sooner he could put this whole miserable episode behind him.

And the sooner he could tell his mother to shut up about Jenna.
I told you so
seemed to be her only words. She was right, of course, which didn't help matters. He leaned against the counter by the shiny new backwash unit and wondered why he'd been so blinded by Jenna's looks and had never seen the real person underneath the false nails and hair extensions. His mother had seen through her, had tried to warn him, but he hadn't wanted to listen, he supposed. The idea of having Jenna, with her luscious looks, to himself had been too seductive. He snorted. And what a fool she'd made of him.

He made his way back down the stairs. He wondered idly where she was these days, not that he cared. And that was the spooky thing – he really didn't. Back in the hospital in Birmingham, after he'd told her to get lost, he'd wondered if he might have a change of heart, but… nothing. Not a sausage. Zip. Zilch. Nada. He supposed it was infatuation that had got him caught up in Jenna, and once that had worn off there was nothing left underneath to prop up their relationship.