Scorched Earth - Robert Muchamore Page 0,60

me what young people are capable of doing. Paul, you probably have the biggest brain in this room. You’re not the strongest, but I’ll always respect how hard you had to push yourself to get through training. Joel and Sam, you have guts and integrity and I know you’ll go a long way together when this war is over. Edith, you’ve never trained on campus, but over the last eight months you’ve become one of us where it matters: in the field. PT, you’ve swindled and conned your way into my heart!’

Everyone went stiff as Henderson turned towards Luc, apart from Jae, who was passing out a mixture of unmatched glassware and enamel mugs so that they didn’t have to keep slugging champagne out of bottles.

‘I’m not going to pretend that I like you,’ Henderson told Luc, to a couple of uneasy laughs. ‘I wish I could dig into your soul and rip out whatever makes it so dark. But I can honestly say that with my back to the wall in a scrap, there’s nobody on earth I’d rather have on my side. So for one night, let’s forget about the war and welcome back our friends. I raise my glass – well, my tin mug – to all of you, and a toast to the future.’

Everyone moved towards the middle of the room and chinked glasses, mugs and bottles together.

‘The future!’

PT raised a second toast. ‘Henderson’s boys!’ he shouted.

Things got noisy as they went for a second toast. Then they all settled around the room, breaking into separate conversations as they drank the champagne. Henderson liked a drink and even in these hard times he’d amassed a cache of four magnums, a bottle of whisky and some revolting red wine which they left until everything else had run out.

Booze, mixed with evening heat and a sparse diet, meant they were all soon drunk. Luc had invited his girlfriend Laure up from her apartment two floors down. She was a dark-haired woman of twenty-two, and while she canoodled with Luc, her five- and six-year-old sons rampaged through the apartment.

Marc, Paul and Sam acted like drunk kids, chasing the little lads around, having mock fights and swinging them by their ankles. It was a taste of childhoods that had ended too soon.

Maxine knocked on the door at nine. She carried cold beer and a bag filled with butter, paté, tomatoes and fresh white baguettes. Paul ate greedily, but the rich food lying on top of champagne made him queasy. He curled up on Marc’s bed, feeling a mattress under his body for the first time in almost two months.

Henderson rarely smoked, but once they’d eaten Maxine’s food, he shared a cigarette with her on the balcony. Eyebrows were raised as the pair discreetly moved into Henderson’s bedroom.

‘How’s your wife, Captain Henderson?’ Luc shouted.

‘How’s your girlfriend’s husband?’ Henderson shot back.

Laure looked annoyed, but Sam and Marc broke into fits of drunken laughter.

As the sun set, Luc helped Laure carry her dozing boys downstairs and by the time he came back up, everyone was either asleep or getting ready for bed.

The electricity had been off all night, so Luc helped Edith collect plates and glasses before joining her at the sink.

‘You wash, I’ll dry,’ Luc said cheerfully.

Luc usually dismissed domestic chores as women’s work and Edith’s jaw almost hit the floor.

‘If this is what having a girlfriend does for you, I’m all for it,’ she said.

‘Laure’s so nice,’ Luc said. ‘I know she’s older and she’s got a husband in Germany, but I really like her.’

There was no soap or detergent, so Edith only had tepid water and a square of old cloth to get things clean.

‘You seem to get on with her boys as well,’ Edith said admiringly.

Luc walked to the dresser with a stack of dry plates. ‘Did you enjoy tonight?’

Edith nodded. ‘How often can we forget about everything and have a laugh?’

Once the plates were dry, Luc put out the last gas lamp and stepped into the bedroom he shared with PT. The room had two single beds, but was barely wide enough to walk between them. PT had fallen asleep drunk, with his shirt unbuttoned, one leg hanging off the side of the bed and his hairy balls catching a breeze through the window.

PT’s trailing foot touched the floor. It would have been easy to step over but Luc couldn’t resist stepping on his toes.

‘Jesus,’ PT gasped, as he sat up and clutched his foot.

‘Sorry,’ Luc said, smirking