that had graced the Buckingham kitchen since he’d been in a high chair. Thank God some things never changed. Except that everything just had.
He looked at her. ‘I’m done – it’s over.’ There was something cold in his gaze that Mary didn’t recognize. She was bewildered – she had no idea what he was talking about. ‘The Regiment – I’m out.’
As she took this in, two opposing emotions went into battle inside her. This was the day she had secretly prayed for, that one day he would just outgrow it and there would be life beyond all the anxiety. She had hoped at one point that Delphine would bring it about, but the relationship hadn’t changed anything.
So she was happy – for herself. She knew the Army was his whole world. He’d always made it clear that was where he was headed, that nothing else would do – so if he was quitting, something completely unprecedented must have happened. Unless it was quitting him – in which case he would be devastated.
‘Well, that’s …’ now she had started she had to finish ‘… it’s – I’m sure you know when the right time—’
His face darkened. He brought the mug down hard, sending some of the coffee splashing over the table. The dog yelped, equally confused. ‘There’s nothing right about it.’
Now she was scared. On the few occasions she had ever seen him angry he had been truly alarming – when a neighbour had run over a previous Horace, and when he had surprised some burglars to whom he gave such a beating that the police nearly charged him with GBH. Only Hugh’s measured intervention, and the fact that he and the policeman were both on the board of the football club, had saved him.
She opened her mouth to speak, still not sure what she was going to say. But he put up his hand. ‘Let’s talk about something else – anything.’
She went into conversation autopilot: the neighbours’ flood; the campaign to save the row of poplars that lined the main road, beyond the pheasant woods; the youth club his father had championed, but the locals were opposed to. None of it required him to do anything other than listen – if he was hearing any of it. She couldn’t tell. ‘But all we seem to be talking about at the moment is what’s happening in the cities. Your father says he can’t remember a time like it. Even the miners’ strike wasn’t anything like this, he says. He thinks they might declare a state of emergency.’
‘Where is he, anyway?’
‘Up in town, staying at the club.’
If only Hugh was here, he and Tom could have gone off to the pub and Tom could have unloaded. But she was alone and that made the atmosphere more intense. Maybe she could get him to come back on some pretext.
‘I’m going to get cleaned up, then go and see Delphine.’
She put a hand on his. He flinched slightly but she left it there. He frowned at her.
‘Haven’t you spoken to her?’
‘Her phone was off so – no. Why?’
His voice trailed away: he could see his mother had something to say.
‘Darling, she’s gone home – to France. She came by to tell us. She said she thought she needed a bit of time at home. All the trouble here – and everything else.’
They both knew what ‘everything else’ meant.
‘She didn’t want to just disappear without saying goodbye.’
‘To you! I need to see her.’
‘Darling, I think you should let her be – for now. Just let her know you’re safe. I’m sure she’ll be glad to hear that.’
He got up, his jaw set. Was he even listening?
‘She’s had so much to deal with. Losing the baby – it’s something a woman doesn’t really get over. I’m not saying it doesn’t affect men too. But it can be devastating.’
He stared at her vacantly. No Regiment and now no Delphine. His whole life had just ground to a shuddering stop.
15
Doncaster
Sam was soaked through. His linen jacket and even the T-shirt under it had fused themselves into a sodden outer skin. His backpack was a limp wet
He looked at her. ‘I’m done – it’s over.’ There was something cold in his gaze that Mary didn’t recognize. She was bewildered – she had no idea what he was talking about. ‘The Regiment – I’m out.’
As she took this in, two opposing emotions went into battle inside her. This was the day she had secretly prayed for, that one day he would just outgrow it and there would be life beyond all the anxiety. She had hoped at one point that Delphine would bring it about, but the relationship hadn’t changed anything.
So she was happy – for herself. She knew the Army was his whole world. He’d always made it clear that was where he was headed, that nothing else would do – so if he was quitting, something completely unprecedented must have happened. Unless it was quitting him – in which case he would be devastated.
‘Well, that’s …’ now she had started she had to finish ‘… it’s – I’m sure you know when the right time—’
His face darkened. He brought the mug down hard, sending some of the coffee splashing over the table. The dog yelped, equally confused. ‘There’s nothing right about it.’
Now she was scared. On the few occasions she had ever seen him angry he had been truly alarming – when a neighbour had run over a previous Horace, and when he had surprised some burglars to whom he gave such a beating that the police nearly charged him with GBH. Only Hugh’s measured intervention, and the fact that he and the policeman were both on the board of the football club, had saved him.
She opened her mouth to speak, still not sure what she was going to say. But he put up his hand. ‘Let’s talk about something else – anything.’
She went into conversation autopilot: the neighbours’ flood; the campaign to save the row of poplars that lined the main road, beyond the pheasant woods; the youth club his father had championed, but the locals were opposed to. None of it required him to do anything other than listen – if he was hearing any of it. She couldn’t tell. ‘But all we seem to be talking about at the moment is what’s happening in the cities. Your father says he can’t remember a time like it. Even the miners’ strike wasn’t anything like this, he says. He thinks they might declare a state of emergency.’
‘Where is he, anyway?’
‘Up in town, staying at the club.’
If only Hugh was here, he and Tom could have gone off to the pub and Tom could have unloaded. But she was alone and that made the atmosphere more intense. Maybe she could get him to come back on some pretext.
‘I’m going to get cleaned up, then go and see Delphine.’
She put a hand on his. He flinched slightly but she left it there. He frowned at her.
‘Haven’t you spoken to her?’
‘Her phone was off so – no. Why?’
His voice trailed away: he could see his mother had something to say.
‘Darling, she’s gone home – to France. She came by to tell us. She said she thought she needed a bit of time at home. All the trouble here – and everything else.’
They both knew what ‘everything else’ meant.
‘She didn’t want to just disappear without saying goodbye.’
‘To you! I need to see her.’
‘Darling, I think you should let her be – for now. Just let her know you’re safe. I’m sure she’ll be glad to hear that.’
He got up, his jaw set. Was he even listening?
‘She’s had so much to deal with. Losing the baby – it’s something a woman doesn’t really get over. I’m not saying it doesn’t affect men too. But it can be devastating.’
He stared at her vacantly. No Regiment and now no Delphine. His whole life had just ground to a shuddering stop.
15
Doncaster
Sam was soaked through. His linen jacket and even the T-shirt under it had fused themselves into a sodden outer skin. His backpack was a limp wet
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