Guarded Passions (16 page)

‘Why don't you dance with Ruth? I feel exhausted,' Helen exclaimed as Adam, looking extremely handsome in his dark blue and red Mess Dress and frilled white shirt, held out a hand to lead her back onto the dance floor.

It was the first time they had ever had the chance to take Ruth and Mark to a ‘do' in the Mess. Usually children were not allowed in the Mess but because one of the sergeants was holding his wedding reception there, the rule had been relaxed. And, since Adam would be leaving the Army the following March, Helen had been delighted that they had the opportunity to take Ruth and Mark with them.

‘They'll probably remember this more than anything else about Army life,' Helen reflected.

In her full-length pale-blue dress, her long, dark hair in a chignon, Ruth looked so very grown-up it was hard to believe that she wouldn't be fourteen until after Christmas. Only her innocent grey eyes and her shy smile, confirmed her youthfulness.

Ruth had been an adorable baby and had grown into a quiet but lovable child. There had been one short period after Delia Evans had moved away when she had been unmanageable, but that had soon passed. She was clever as well as pretty. Her school reports were glowing now and Helen was already planning that she should go on to university when the time came. Ruth would make a wonderful teacher. She had infinite patience as well as the ability to communicate. Without her help Mark would be a dunce. When he wasn't watching television he much preferred listening to his Beatles' records rather than reading a book or doing his homework.

Helen felt a wave of love and pride as she watched them. She only hoped their luck held when Adam left the Army next year and that he would be able to find a job he liked to help supplement his Army pension.

It was at times like this Helen found herself wishing she had gone to university when she'd had the chance. If only she had some training or qualifications she could have been the one to go out to work. Then Adam could have taken his time in deciding what he wanted to do, instead of accepting the first job that came along.

She thought about the letter she'd had from Nesta Evans. Taffy had found it hard to adjust to civilian life. His brother, though a good motor mechanic, was not very organised and this had proved to be a sore point. Already the partnership had been dissolved and Taffy was working as a security guard. It meant that Nesta was on her own most nights, which was worse than when her husband had been in the Army.

Helen dreaded something like that happening to Adam. He was forty-three, but he was outstandingly fit and bursting with health. Looking at him, Helen felt she knew what was meant by ‘the prime of life' and it seemed ridiculous that his Army career should be ending.

‘Where's Mark?' Adam asked as he and Ruth returned to the table, flushed from their exertions. ‘This young lady is tireless. She wants to go on dancing, but I'm exhausted. I thought Mark might like to partner her.'

‘You sit down with Mum; I'll go and look for him,' Ruth said, grinning.

‘Helen, are you all right?' Adam asked anxiously the moment they were on their own. ‘You're looking awfully pale.'

‘I feel a bit faint. Probably the heat in here … and all the noise,' Helen replied.

‘And the chasing round getting all of us kitted out for this event. I must say Mark looks good in his dinner jacket. Quite grown-up.'

‘You might make a point of telling him so,' Helen smiled. ‘He made a terrible fuss about getting “dressed up” as he put it. I asked him what he would do if he had to wear full Mess dress like you.'

‘And what did he say to that?' Adam asked, laughing.

‘He said that would be different.'

‘Yes, he's still keen to join the Army, isn't he?'

‘He's talking about becoming a boy-soldier when he's sixteen.' A shadow passed over Helen's face as she spoke.

Quickly Adam's hand covered hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. ‘Another couple of months and we'll be out of barracks and he'll forget all about the Army. Something else will take his interest, you'll see.'

‘I hope so!' Helen said fervently.

‘Just stop worrying about Mark and look after yourself more,' Adam told her.

His blue eyes were dark with worry as they scrutinised her face. She flushed under their intense searching. She knew she was looking tired; she felt it. Some days it seemed as if she didn't have enough energy to get through all the chores.

She was putting on weight, too, although she tried very hard to watch her diet. Sadly, she sighed, then smiled tremulously as she saw the concern on Adam's face.

‘I'm getting middle-aged,' she said with a forced laugh. ‘Maturing early … it's the sheltered life I lead.'

‘At thirty-seven!'

‘I was joking,' she said quickly, taken aback by the alarm in his voice.

‘I should hope so. You aren't on top form, I'll give you that. I wish you'd have a check-up.'

‘OK I will, I promise. I'll make an appointment tomorrow.'

Adam leaned closer and his lips brushed her cheek. ‘Make sure you keep that promise,' he said softly. ‘Now,' he stood up and pulled her to her feet, ‘I'm going to have this dance if I have to carry you round the floor.'

Helen kept her word and went for a check-up, even though she thought there was probably very little the doctor could do for her, other than tell her to go on a diet and perhaps give her a tonic.

‘I wondered if it might be the change,' she said rather diffidently, when he asked her what was wrong. ‘I believe some women do start early. I'm certainly putting on weight … it could be middle-aged spread.'

He looked at her over the top of his glasses, then checked her record sheet on the desk in front of him.

‘You're still in your thirties?'

‘Late thirties … yes. Thirty-seven to be exact.'

After he examined her, he pursed his lips and shook his head. ‘Did you say your husband was leaving the Army?' he asked.

‘Yes … in about three months.'

‘Hmmm.' He stared at her, unblinking for a few seconds. ‘What are your plans then?' he asked.

‘Nothing decided really. We hope to buy a house … or perhaps a business of some kind … we once talked about taking a pub and I'd be able to help …'

‘I shouldn't plan on that,' he told her quickly.

‘Something's wrong, isn't it?' she said, with an inward tremor. ‘And just when we planned to start a new life,' she added sadly.

‘You've already done that,' he told her jocularly. ‘The reason you're feeling “out of sorts” as you put it, and why you seem to be putting on weight, is because you are pregnant!'

‘Pregnant! I can't be … you must be mistaken!' she gasped.

‘I'd say at least four months, possibly a little more. And you haven't suspected?'

‘It never entered my head. Ruth's nearly fourteen and Mark will be twelve in a couple of months' time. What will they say!'

‘They'll probably be tickled pink.'

‘Adam will be …'

‘Over the moon,' the doctor assured her. ‘Everything will work out fine. Now don't worry.'

He was right, of course. Once over the initial shock, Helen quite liked the idea of having another baby. Ruth was ecstatic, and even Mark accepted the news without objection.

Adam's main concern was how would they manage financially when he left the Army, since his pension wouldn't be enough for them all to live on.

‘We'll cope,' Helen assured him. ‘It does mean you will have to get a job right away, of course. I won't be able to go out to work for years … probably not until the baby is old enough to go to school.'

‘By that time you shouldn't need to work. Ruth will be nineteen and Mark seventeen so they should both be earning by then.'

‘Not if they manage to get to university.'

‘Well, we'll have to wait and see about that. It mightn't be possible … not now … not with a new baby.'

‘The baby isn't going to stop them!' Helen exclaimed, white-faced, her grey eyes darkening with determination.

‘We'll just have to wait and see,' Adam repeated. ‘Neither of them may get enough “A” levels.'

‘No,' Helen admitted reluctantly, ‘but if they do, then I want them to have the chance,' she persisted.

‘Let's not waste time worrying about it now,' Adam said firmly. ‘Our immediate problem is a job for me. I'm away for the next two weeks at the shooting range, but once I get back from that …'

‘Must you go? Couldn't someone else take your place?'

‘Afraid not. Weapon-training is the responsibility of the Senior Training Sergeant. It will be the last time I'm away …'

‘I still wish you weren't going.'

‘I'll only be in Norfolk! You'll have Ruth and Mark to look after you. Now that they know about the baby they won't let you lift a finger, you'll see. While I'm away, why don't the three of you work out where you'd like to live? That should keep you busy until I get home again.'

It was like planning a holiday, Helen thought as the three of them spread out the maps each evening and pored over them, arguing whether it should be town, country or somewhere near the coast. Mark was keen on being able to go swimming in the sea and longed for them to have a boat. Ruth was more concerned about whether there was a good shopping centre nearby. Mark pointed out that if Ruth was going to university he didn't see what these things mattered since she would hardly ever be at home.

‘I will be home in the holidays, silly!' Ruth argued.

As they made lists, Helen was far more practical. She knew they had to consider some place where Adam would be able to find work. She didn't want to live in a big town, not with a new baby, but neither did she want anywhere that was too isolated.

They finally short-listed half-a-dozen places and Helen folded up the maps and put them away.

‘I think we've spent enough time on this,' she told them both.

‘Dad'll be the one who has the final choice, anyway,' Ruth said flatly.

‘Perhaps he'll decide to stay on in the Army after all,' Mark said hopefully.

‘I don't think he's even considered it,' Helen said. ‘Anyway, he's too old to keep his job as Training Sergeant.'

‘He could always do something else,' Mark persisted.

‘Well, he might be able to become a Recruiting Officer, I suppose,' she said thoughtfully.

‘Where would he be sent then?' Mark asked.

‘Almost anywhere in the country, though probably to one of the larger towns or cities, of course.'

‘Perhaps London,' Ruth suggested.

‘I wouldn't want to live there,' Helen said quickly.

‘Would he be able to choose?' Mark asked.

‘I don't know. I've never thought about it until now. Perhaps we'd better wait until your dad gets back from Norfolk. He mightn't go along with such an idea.'

‘Then again he might,' Mark insisted. ‘After all, he does like the Army …'

‘You mean
you
do,' Ruth interrupted him. ‘I don't think we should mention the recruiting job to Dad, not now that he has decided to leave the Army and find some other kind of work.'

‘That's enough.' Helen said firmly. ‘Mark, take these maps back upstairs.'

‘OK. Just a minute – there's someone knocking.'

Ruth was already opening the door and Helen looked up in surprise, as Captain Bishop, Adam's Commanding Officer, and Bill Blackstaff, the RSM, both in uniform, came into the room. She saw at a glance that both men looked uneasy.

‘Has something happened?' she asked in alarm.

‘We've bad news,' Captain Bishop said gruffly. ‘It's about your husband …' he hesitated, looking at the RSM.

‘There's been an accident on the range,' Bill Blackstaff said in a level voice. ‘Adam was demonstrating the use of hand-grenades … you know the drill. The lads practise with dummies until they've learned how to take the pin out. Then they have to use a live one …'

‘Oh no! Oh my God!' Helen clung to the table, white-faced and trembling. It was the sort of mishap she had always dreaded might happen.

Captain Bishop moved quickly, reaching out to steady her as she swayed.

‘I'm all right,' Helen said quietly. She felt for a chair and sat bolt upright on the edge of it, still holding onto the table. ‘Please go on,' she said in a low, tight voice.

The two men exchanged glances before Captain Bishop took up the story. ‘They had just started using live grenades. The first two or three were operated quite smoothly, then one chap fumbled with his, dropped it … right at your husband's feet …'

‘And it exploded.'

He nodded.

‘And Adam?' she whispered.

‘He took the full force … it was instantaneous …'

Helen stared from one man to the other. Their faces swam before her, merged into one, then gradually receded further and further away into a black void. From somewhere far off she could hear a woman crying, a shrill keening sound that splintered the silence and then echoed away into blackness.

‘According to the rule book, we can let you stay on in this house for another three months. That should give you time to make other arrangements.'

Helen stared at Captain Street, the Families' Officer, in dismay. For a moment she wondered if she had heard correctly. It was only a week since Adam's funeral and it seemed that already the Army's relentless machinery was in motion.

‘I do appreciate that in your case three months may be rather difficult, so we might manage to give you an extension …' As his voice trailed away he looked at her from under hooded lids, as he tapped his well-tailored khaki-clad leg with his drill stick.

Helen's hands involuntarily went to her swollen body as if to protect her unborn child.