the worst and—’
‘Mum, I keep telling you, I can’t call when something happens. They cut the phones off until the family of the dead guy knows he’s dead. Someone might phone the papers or whatever to try and make a few bob. The family needs to know first, don’t they? But soon as they’re working again, I call, don’t I? Make sure you know I’m OK.’
She sighed so loudly I could hear it over the noise of some lads arguing about the football match as they stood in the queue.
‘Yeah, you’re a good boy. You’re all right, and that’s all that matters. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you. I sit and watch the news every day, smoking myself to death, just praying that—’
‘Mum, I’m fine. Don’t worry. I’m the new boy, they won’t even let me out of the camp yet. Listen, I’ve been thinking about Dad and—’
I heard the sharp intake of breath and the change in her voice – a hint of anger mixed in with panic. ‘What? He been writing to you? What does he want? Money? You tell him to keep away from us.’
I tried to sound calm, like it was nothing. ‘No, he hasn’t written, but …’
Her voice went up even higher. ‘I ain’t having him nowhere near us. He never lifted a finger to help us, why should we get involved with him now? What has he done to—’
I tried to talk over her. I just needed to get it out. ‘But, Mum, I think he needs help. I think you should—’
It was hopeless. She was off again. ‘Don’t think, don’t think anything about him. He’s a drunk who never cared about us. Why should I worry about him? I have you to worry about.’
‘Mum, I’ve been learning about PTSD. You know, combat stress. I think he might have it because of the Falklands stuff.’
It was no good. I had picked open an old wound and nothing could stop her now. ‘Listen to me. I don’t want to talk about him any more, and I don’t want you even thinking about that man.’
‘But Mum, just call him. Tell him to go see a doctor.’
‘Why are you dragging all this up? What have I done to deserve this? Haven’t you given me enough to worry about? You calling just to get me even more upset? It’s no fun back here you know. You think it’s all …’
Then, as always, her anger quickly turned to guilt. ‘I tried my best to bring you up good. I know I wasn’t there all the time, but that’s because that bastard didn’t lift a finger to help us. I know I should have done more .…’
I could hear the tears were about to come. Anything but that. I couldn’t hack it when Mum cried. ‘Mum, it’s all right, you done good. I like the army. I’m sorry, forget it. Listen, I’ll call in a couple of days because I’ve only got a couple of minutes left for this week on my phone card so—’
I cut myself off mid-sentence and put the receiver down gently. Stupid, stupid idea!
Chapter Eleven
I walked back to my tent and saw all John’s stuff in bags and bin liners in one neat row on his bed. There was no sign of Flash and Si, but Toki was sitting on one of the plastic fold-up chairs with John’s laptop resting on his knees. He must have carried on sorting through John’s stuff during scoff. His fingers tapped and paused, tapped and paused on the laptop keys.
‘He got any porn, Toki?’
Toki tapped again. ‘Video of some contacts, a couple of pics of dead Taliban and some of Julie, just in stockings, that sort of stuff. Nothing terrible.’
The screen went black and he carefully closed the laptop. He pulled out the plug and started to coil the lead. ‘I still hate doing this job, though.’
I nodded, though I wasn’t really concentrating on what he was saying. I kept staring at the bed. All John’s kit was in black plastic bags, while he lay in a big black rubber one. That was it when you died. That was all there was.
‘I can’t stay behind, Toki. I want to be out with you lot tonight.’ The words came out thick and fast. ‘Can’t you talk with Sergeant MacKenzie … please?’
Toki looked up, his brown eyes showed concern. ‘You OK?’
I tried to pull myself together. ‘Yeah, I’m all right. Just don’t want to be left behind