Soldiers' Wives Part 17

Jenna brightened a little. 'Straight up, no kidding?'

'Of course.'

'You'd better come in, then.' She opened the door wide and let Immi in.

'Cor.' Immi whistled. 'This is really nice. Such an improvement.'

Jenna perked up even more. 'Like it? I'm going to get a couple of cream leather sofas to match the rug.'

'Lee must love this.'

'He's not seen it.'

'Nice surprise for when he gets back.'

'That's not the only surprise. Come and have a look at this.' Excitedly Jenna led Immi up to the bathroom.

's.h.i.+t a brick,' said Immi, when she saw the alterations.

'Good, isn't it?' said Jenna, mistaking Immi's reaction for total approval.

'Yeah,' said Immi, unable to conceal the doubt in her voice.

'You don't like it?'

'Of course I do, but this is a quarter, Jenna. I mean, apart from the fact that it must have cost a bomb, there's rules.'

Jenna sighed. 'Rules, rules, rules. It's always f.u.c.king rules.'

'But this is the army.'

'I'm not in the sodding army. Why doesn't anyone realise that?'

Immi bit her tongue. No, Jenna wasn't, but Lee was; although, as she wanted to get her hair done, perhaps this wasn't the time to point that out.

'Anyway,' she said, brightly, 'whoever did this did a lovely job. Love the black and silver. Cla.s.sy.'

Jenna was instantly mollified. 'Nice, ain't it? And so much better than Zo's. That's a dump, if ever there was one.'

Immi sat in the chair in front of the basin while Jenna swathed her in a plastic protector. 'Roots?'

'Please.'

Jenna got busy mixing the dye.

'So how did Zo find out about this set-up?' asked Immi.

'I think I told her.'

'You did what?'

'I know. Can't believe I was so stupid. Mind you, she'd have found out sooner or later, but I was hoping to stay working at hers for a little longer until I'd got going properly.'

'So why the h.e.l.l did you tell her?'

'I didn't, not exactly. I leafleted the patches and the local area, so I must have dropped one through Zo's front door. I mean, I never thought... Anyway,' shrugged Jenna, 'I got the last laugh. See this lot?' She pointed to the shelf of hairdressing products. 'I nicked all of them from Zo's, over the last few months. Stupid cow never noticed.'

But Immi wasn't sure that Jenna had got the last laugh. Zo wasn't that stupid, and she reckoned that she would find a way of getting her own back. This wasn't just going to end with that cat-fight in the salon. Immi would put good money on this being a fight to the death.

The rain hammered down onto the already sodden ground, splas.h.i.+ng into the muddy puddles and onto the grey sand, bouncing off the tent roofs, dripping off the vehicles while the damp, chill air insinuated itself into every corner of the tented city that was Camp Bastion. In the background was the permanent roar of planes and helicopters taking off, landing and taxiing, bringing in supplies and replacement troops and taking out the lucky guys who had finished their tour of duty and the not-so-lucky ones leaving on stretchers, or worse.

Chrissie raced from her sleeping quarters across the wet ground, jumping the deeper puddles, splas.h.i.+ng through the shallow ones, to the field hospital. Every now and again, she looked up to check she was still heading in the right direction and not about to cannon into another person, also das.h.i.+ng, head down, for shelter. She caught a glimpse of a vast C17 as it took to the skies and almost instantly disappeared into the cloud that lowered over the camp. She'd only been in Bastion for a week and already she was wondering if volunteering had been such a bright idea.

It wasn't just the long hours, the injuries that she had to deal with real injuries now, not fake ones made of plastic, wax and stage make-up the lousy weather or the less than ideal living conditions: it was the homesickness. And even Chrissie knew that this was a bit rich, as she was one of the few inhabitants at Camp Bastion who really, truly, had no home. Whatever else Bastion was, it wasn't home or anything that approximated it. No matter that it had been blinged up with KFC and Pizza Hut, nor that there were huge tents with computer games and big screen TVs getting satellite programmes streamed in from BFBS, it was still a surreal place. And she missed Immi, she missed seeing gra.s.s, she missed seeing people out of uniform, she missed being able to catch a bus to go shopping... she missed ordinary life.

And now she was missing Lee. She'd promised herself they wouldn't become friends but since their arrival together the previous week, he'd been a rock and not being friends with him had just been out of the question. For a start he'd surrept.i.tiously pa.s.sed her a hanky to dry her eyes and blow her nose before too many of the other squaddies cottoned on to how frightened she'd been on the plane. Being sick could easily be put down to the rough ride, but crying...? She'd get the p.i.s.s ripped out of her for that. Then he'd helped her with her kit, when it had finally been unloaded off the flight, and escorted her to her temporary quarters.

'How are you feeling?' he'd asked, as he dumped her Bergen on her camp bed.

She'd smiled. 'Why? Scared I might honk again?'

It was Lee's turn to laugh. 'Well, you've got previous.'

'I'm fine,' she'd said.

'Good. Immi'd kill me if she thought I wasn't taking care of her bessie mate.' And he'd leant forward and given her a big hug. 'Now get some kip. We've got to be up in a couple of hours. I'll save you a place at breakfast.'

She and Lee were billeted quite close to each other for the first few days, while they, along with all the other soldiers new to theatre, underwent induction training. Obviously Lee's training was longer and more detailed as he was going to be out in some camel compound in the thick of the action. Chrissie, on the other hand, might never see beyond the airbase, but she still needed to be aware of the threats and tactics and the latest intelligence. Plus she also needed to be taught the basics on how to keep healthy and hydrated, when the temperatures started to soar again, as they would in just a matter of weeks. After three days, Chrissie was moved to her more permanent accommodation near to the field hospital, but Lee still saved her a seat in the cookhouse at meal times and treated her to an occasional can of c.o.ke in their off-duty moments. And in those off-duty moments she kept a weather eye out for Phil because he had to be somewhere in the place, but their paths didn't cross. Not that it was so surprising as, with each day that pa.s.sed, Chrissie began to get a handle on just how enormous the camp was.

It was a couple more days into their RSOI training Reception, Staging and Onward Integration that they were walking back from the training centre and a gust of wind whipped up the gritty, sandy surface right in front of them, producing an instant dust devil. Despite the fact they both managed to s.h.i.+eld their faces from the worst of it, Lee got an eyeful of muck.

'Jeez,' he exclaimed as his eye streamed. He put his hand to his face.

'Don't rub it,' ordered Chrissie, grabbing his hand and yanking it away.

's.h.i.+t, Chrissie, it canes.'

'Just keep your eye shut. Try not to move it in its socket too much, you don't want to scratch the cornea. I'll clean it for you as soon as we get to the NAAFI.'

She grabbed his arm and led him between the rows of tents to the NAAFI, where she sat Lee down on the nearest chair and grabbed a plastic bottle of water and a clean paper table napkin from a dispenser.

She stood beside him, looking down. 'Put your head back,' she told him. Then she gently lifted the lid of his left eye and held it open with her finger and thumb and poured in the water. She could see the grains of sand being flushed out as she did. She got Lee to roll his eyes up, down and side to side, to check she'd rinsed all the debris out. 'That should do it.' She noticed her hands were trembling. Why did he have this effect on her? It wasn't natural. Or maybe, more worryingly, it was. 'That was just like the scene from Brief Encounter,' she joked to cover up her emotions.

Lee mopped his wet face with the serviette and blinked. 'It certainly feels a lot better. Still a bit sore though.'

'Bound to be.'

'And Brief Encounter? What the f.u.c.k's that?'

'An old film, black and white. One of my mum's favourites. A couple meet when she gets grit in her eye at a railway station. The bloke, a doctor, gets the dirt out with the corner of his hanky and they fall in love.'

'And he gets his leg over and they live happily ever after.'

'No. They're both married to other people.'

'So, no s.h.a.g?'

Chrissie shook her head. 'No, no s.h.a.g.'

'That's a pity,' said Lee, staring at her with a disconcerting intensity. 'Especially if they'd really fallen for each other.'

Chrissie looked at her feet. 'They had,' she whispered. 'But perhaps it was for the best.'

And it was later that evening that Immi had Skyped her, making Chrissie feel even more homesick. Homesickness that was compounded by the need to tell Immi a bunch of lies, after Immi had told her that Lee was out there too and they ought to seek each other out. Like she was going to admit to Immi just how much they were already seeing of each other, knowing full well how close Immi and Jenna were. No way!

Four days later, their encounters, brief or otherwise, came to an abrupt end when Lee's RSOI training ended and he was moved out to join his new multiple somewhere out in Nad-e Ali.

'Drop me a line or two, when you get the chance,' said Lee. 'Tell me what's going on back here.'

'Of course,' said Chrissie brightly. 'And you look after yourself. Watch where you are putting your size twelves, eh? I don't want you cluttering up any ward I happen to be working on.'

She said it casually, but inside she was terrified for Lee. Unlike him, she'd already seen the results of what IEDs could do. The lads seemed so gung-ho when they talked about going to their patrol bases, but the two she'd been treating, casevaced back, injured and limbless, their lives changed for ever, had minds that were as shattered as their bodies. The thought that that might be Lee's fate sent ice coursing through her blood.

19.

Maddy was manoeuvring Nate's buggy out of her quarter when Caro called across to her from her own.

'You off out?'

'Just going along to the Spar for a few bits and pieces. We need some fresh air and as it's not pouring for once...' She gestured at the sky.

'Fancy a bit of company?'

'Sure, why not.'

'Perfect. Give me a second to get Luke ready. He's been a menace since he woke up and I need to wear him out to calm him down. It's that, or give him to Barnardo's. They're always after donations, aren't they?'

'I think they prefer cash,' said Maddy, grinning.

A few minutes later they were strolling along the pavement towards the little shop that served the married patch. Luke was alternately running ahead or lagging behind, so their progress was rather erratic.

'Ooh, look,' said Caro. 'There's Jenna. I want a word with her.'

'What are you after an appointment?'

'I thought she could do a talk to the Wives' Club.'

'Oh.'

'You sound surprised.'

'Well...' said Maddy.

'You've got reservations.'

'I dunno.'

'Come on, spit it out,' said Caro, grabbing Luke's arm to stop him running into the road. Maddy stopped pus.h.i.+ng the buggy and faced Caro.

'It's just, she's in Seb's platoon and I've been hearing rumours.'

'And?'

'And she's not exactly popular. There seems to be some resentment that she's set up in direct compet.i.tion to Zo.'

'There's no law against healthy compet.i.tion,' said Caro.

'But she's really undercutting her. She doesn't have much in the way of overheads, so she can make her prices ridiculously low and there's wives who don't think that's fair.'

'I suppose.'

'And she seems a bit too upbeat about her husband being in Afghanistan. I mean, she doesn't have to sit around in sackcloth and ashes, we all know life has to go on, but I've heard on the grapevine that some of the wives are questioning whether she cares a jot about her husband. To be honest, I thought that myself, when I had my hair done the other day.'

'That's a bit harsh. She's probably just putting a brave face on it.'

'Maybe.' But Maddy knew exactly how she'd felt when Seb had been over there. She'd been able to function after a fas.h.i.+on and she hadn't become a complete basket case but even so, she certainly hadn't bounced around as if she didn't have a care in the world which was what Jenna seemed to be doing.

They carried on walking to the Spar. The automatic doors swished open as they approached and a wave of noise buffeted them. Screams, screeches and obscenities rolled out of the door. Nate's face crumpled, Luke's eyes widened and the two mothers craned forwards.

'What the h.e.l.l...?' said Caro.

They both peered in. By the tills they could see Zo and Jenna having a proper, full-on cat-fight, skin and hair flying.

A burly sergeant in uniform had got between them at some personal risk and was trying to prise them apart while the Spar staff and the handful of other shoppers present looked on, stunned.

Finally the sergeant managed to part them.

Zo tossed her hair back and smoothed down her skirt. 'And next time, you slag,' she panted, 'I'll get you good and proper.'

'Yeah? You and whose army?'