She looked around the crowded terminal at the people, races she had never seen in the flesh before and languages she could only guess at. She heard American voices and craned to search for them. They were easily spotted: a loud, well-fed group in crisp, colourful clothes; retired couples from Texas or Arizona she guessed. She watched as they shuffled towards an exit that promised the coach terminal.
She was really here, she thought. Goddamned England. It was numbing. There was not one single positive aspect of being in England and no end of negative ones. Leaving the house had been unbearable. She hated the people they had let it out to: a lieutenant from SEAL Team 4 on the West Coast and his snooty Californian wife. The woman made it obvious it was beneath her status to rent a house belonging to a mere chief petty officer, but as she kept saying, much to Kathryn’s irritation, ‘there simply wasn’t anything to choose from’ implying Kathryn’s house was a last resort.
Saying goodbye to her friends was almost as bad.The day they left for the airport it should have been her turn to host the wives’ get-together. Hank had accused her of being petty when she moaned about it but it represented all that was important to her. Her social life dominated everything. Most of her friends were Navy wives and young mothers. There was always a birthday party, a baby shower or picnic to attend or plan. Every weekend someone was having a barbeque. She never went shopping alone; a phone call would always find at least one wife to come along and turn it into a day out. Her women’s group was probably the most important event for her.And at the centre of everything were, of course, the children.
Standing there in the arrivals lounge, thousands of miles from all of that, Kathryn felt as if she had been ripped out of her life by the roots. She had even delayed packing to the last minute, hoping and praying the trip would somehow fall apart. Never in her life had she considered coming to England. It irked her even more to think Hank was actually keen on it. His parents were also of Irish descent. Maybe not second generation like hers but what was the difference? When she tried to talk to him about it all he would say was, ‘They ain’t at war with you.’ ‘Tripe’ her mother called his comment.‘The war was against the Irish, and we’re Irish,’ she insisted. Hank said Kathryn was using the Irish thing as an excuse and that it was her friends she really didn’t want to say goodbye to.
Kathryn ultimately gave in because Hank had threatened to quit the SEALs if she didn’t go with him; it was a married and accompanied draft and he would not have been able to go without her. She had never seen him so angry as when she first refused. She thought he was going to wreck the entire house when he came home drunk later that night. If he quit the Navy they would have had to leave Norfolk for him to find work anyway. She had her doubts that he would have carried out his threat but she didn’t want to take the risk. He was capable of doing crazy things at times. Hank tried to console her with stupid comments such as it wouldn’t be quite so bad once she made new friends. He just didn’t get it. She didn’t want anything to do with the English. She was realistic enough to know she could not avoid the other wives completely but she was not about to get pally with any of them.The girls would obviously make friends at school.They would want to bring them home. The mothers would then want to come in for their cups of tea and no doubt ask endlessly stupid questions about what it was like in America. There would be birthday parties and sleepovers. The more she thought about it the more it worried her that she could not keep it up for a week, never mind two years.
‘Mommy? I wanna drink,’ Helen said, looking as if she was close to falling sleep.
‘You’re gonna have to wait, honey.’
‘But I’m thirsty.’
‘Daddy has all the English money.’
Kathryn saw Hank moving nimbly through the crowded hall towards her. A man she vaguely recognised was following him. He must’ve been six three or four, at least a couple inches taller than Hank.
Hank arrived a little out of breath and grabbed one of the trolleys, turning it in the direction he just came from. ‘Hold on, honey,’ he said to Janet, then to Kathryn as he started to push off, ‘We gotta hurry. Marty’s parked in a no-waiting zone.’
‘Hi,’ Marty said with a carefree grin as he arrived and took charge of the other trolley, but in nowhere near the rush as Hank who was already heading off.
‘I told Hank we don’t need to rush so much,’ Marty said in a lazy, mid-western drawl. ‘They ain’t so crazy here ’bout parkin’ out front as they are States side.’
‘Comin’ through here,’ Hank shouted to people blocking his way.
Kathryn plucked Helen off the trolley Marty had hold of, forcing a smile for him, uncomfortable as she usually was with strangers. ‘I’m Kathryn.’
‘We met a couple years back at an open day,’ Marty said. ‘My wife’s name is Kate.’ Marty was broader than Hank and had a farm-boy quality. He was almost handsome.
‘I remember,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry but I don’t remember your wife. Kate, did you say?’
‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘I’d only just dragged her out from Kentucky that week. She was shy about meetin’ new people back then.’
Kathryn decided she liked Marty and his slow, confident way of talking and moving.
Hank looked back to check on their progress. ‘Come on, honey. Otherwise the car’ll get towed,’ he shouted.
Marty politely indicated Kathryn to go ahead. She wondered how well Marty knew Hank. They seemed quite opposite in character. She took Helen’s hand and moved off in pursuit of her husband.
By the time Marty approached the entrance to the M3 motorway, seatbacks had been adjusted for maximum comfort, pillows were made from clothing and everyone was settled in for the drive.
‘’Bout two hours should see us into Poole, maybe more if this jam doesn’t clear,’ Marty said.
‘Is the traffic always this bad?’ Hank asked as they crawled along the three-lane highway sandwiched between a truck and a double-decker bus.
‘There was a bomb scare on one of the bypasses a couple hours ago. That’s why I was late. We’ll be past it soon.’
‘Bomb scare? Who would that be?’ Hank asked.
‘RIRA probably. They’ve been stepping up their attacks on the mainland lately.’
‘RIRA?’ Hank asked, having never heard the term.
‘The Real IRA. That’s what they call themselves. They’re one of the new groups since the ceasefire.’
‘They’re all IRA though, right?’ asked Hank.
‘I guess. You’ve got the official IRA, the old original outfit, and then the Provisional IRA. Anyhow, they’re supposed to be having a ceasefire.Then there’s a group called the Continuity IRA, which are pretty much like the Real IRA. They’re made up of guys from PIRA, the Provos that is, who don’t agree with the ceasefire. But then the Provos were originally formed back in the seventies or sixties by guys who thought the IRA in those days weren’t putting up enough of a fight. Basically not a lot’s changed as far as most of the Catholics in Northern Ireland are concerned. They still want the Brits out.’
‘So why don’t they just leave?’ Kathryn said, almost to herself, not really wanting to get into a conversation on any subject.
‘Problem is the Protestants want to stay British and there are more of them than Catholics and they’ve got most of the power and money . . . Funny thing is the Brits first sent troops into Northern Ireland to protect the Catholics from the Protestants. The first Brit soldier killed was by a Protestant, or was it the other way around? Yeah, I think the first guy the Brits shot was a Protestant. Maybe it was both. Anyhow, nothing seems to have changed, like I said. Except of course since the September eleventh thing. Terrorism, even in Ireland, doesn’t get the same support it did before the towers were hit.’
‘What about the English terrorists?’ Kathryn asked.
Hank rolled his eyes.
‘How’s that?’ asked Marty.
‘Haven’t you ever heard of the famine?’
‘The famine?’ Marty asked.
‘That was when the English tried to wipe out the whole Irish nation,’ she said.
‘Sorry. History ain’t my thing,’ Marty said, eyeing her in the rear-view mirror. He grinned. ‘You ain’t gonna be too popular round here with sentiments like that.’
Kathryn stared out of the window at the traffic, as if she gave a damn.
