I feigned horror, which made them laugh, and then asked, ‘What’s going on? Couldn’t you sleep?’
‘We were talking about you, Dad.’ Dieter said. He often spoke for the both of them.
‘Yeah?’
‘We heard the Major tell Mrs Maggs that you were going to Egypt. There’s a war on there.’ We all called James the Major, unless we addressed him directly.
‘You shouldn’t listen in to other people’s conversations, but as it happens, you’re right. I do have to go to Egypt.’
‘Do you want to go?’
‘No, but I’m being called up. I don’t have a choice.’
‘You can write Bollocks on the call-up letter, and send it back. Martin’s eldest brother did that.’ I knew Martin. Dieter and he fished together on the Arun. That made me smile.
‘That’s maybe not a bad idea, but they’ll send the police after him. Try not to swear, son; not ’til you’re older.’
There was more to this round-the-table conference than met the eye. I got myself a whisky from the cupboard, and as I sat down Carlo suddenly burst out with, ‘We don’t want you to go. You’ll get killed.’
I hugged him, and ruffled his hair. ‘No I won’t. I’ll be very careful . . . and they’re only sending reservists like me out for six months. That’s twenty-four weeks: it will pass in a flash.’ I didn’t actually know that: no one had told me.
‘Peter Harding’s dad was killed,’ Dieter explained. ‘He didn’t even get as far as the Middle East. The Gyppoes killed him in Cyprus.’
‘Don’t call them Gyppoes,’ I cautioned him. ‘They’re Egyptians. Peter Harding’s dad must have been unlucky. Is Peter in your class?’
‘No: 3b. They cut him up with cheese wire, and sent the pieces back in a parcel.’
Why do boys always manage to recall the gorier details?
‘Don’t worry about me. I will be working with a radio in a fortified camp; somewhere very safe . . . and I’ll have time to write you letters, and maybe I’ll even be able to call you up on the Major’s telephone.’ Then I suddenly stopped talking because I realized that all over the country similar conversations were going on, and we couldn’t all be right, could we? Whenever Britannia flexes her muscles there is a blood tax to be paid.
Carly was fishing about in the bottom of his drink with a spoon: they were almost done. But Dieter was never one to let you away safe once he’d pinned you to a chair. He asked, ‘You’re not going to marry Miss Frieda are you, Dad?’
‘No, I’m not. We thought we would, for a time, but now we realize we argue too much. Does that upset you?’
‘No. We didn’t like her very much. She used to scold Carly.’
‘We call her the scary girlfriend,’ Carly chipped in.
‘Then I won’t marry her. I’ll only marry someone you like.’
‘Have you got a girlfriend at all at the moment, Dad?’ That was Dieter again. He was always trying to marry me off.
‘I had one last week. I could call her up and ask.’
‘What’s she like?’
‘Her name is June. She has bright red hair, and very white skin . . . and a big smile. She laughs very loud when she’s happy, but I think she probably has a bit of a temper as well.’
‘Like Mrs Maggs?’
‘A bit. Why?’
‘Maybe you could bring her down here to meet us.’
‘I’ll think about it,’ I promised them. Then I packed them off to bed again, hoping that it would stick this time.
Saying goodbye to Maggs, James and the kids was harder than it ever had been before.
Chapter Three
Doctor Jazz
I didn’t like the way that Elaine looked at me. It was as if she was watching all the time; sizing me up for something, although I’d only been back in the office ten minutes.
‘There were only two personal calls when you were away, and I decided to bother you with neither of them.’
‘Good.’
‘One was from a Wing Commander Watson. He left a telephone number, asked if you had received any letters yet, and said he had notice of your overseas medical. He asked you to call him.’
‘What did you say?’
‘I told him he should be ashamed of himself, and put the phone down.’
That made me snort.
‘What about the other one?’
‘A woman named June wanted to speak to you. She left a telephone number, as well.’
‘What did you say to her?’
‘The same. I thought she sounded much too young for you, so I told her she should be ashamed of herself, and put the telephone down on her too.’
‘I’ve only been away three days and you’ve already destroyed my next military career, and ruined my love life.’
‘I know. I did rather well, didn’t I? Now neither of them will want you.’
It was a nice try, but I smiled, probably a little sadly. ‘Life doesn’t work out like that, does it?’
Then I noticed that she was wearing her white shirt with more buttons popped open than usual, and that the view out over the foothills was still very interesting. She noticed me noticing, and didn’t seem to mind. That was interesting too; maybe Terry had been away from home too long again. Oddly enough I felt a little shy once more. I hoped that was nothing to do with growing up, for if it was I wanted nothing to do with it.
She asked, ‘What were you thinking about?’
‘When?’
‘When you looked at me just then.’
Tell the truth, Charlie. ‘You . . . and old times.’
‘Good. I’ve also been thinking a lot about old times recently. I’ll make you a decent cup of char, and switch on Workers Playtime. Then we can think about them again.’ I just then began to get that feeling I was sailing back into troubled waters.
I was subjected to my medical in
