I was just going to get another Scotch, but stopped myself. She was standing at one of the units in the kitchen, chopping vegetables on a wooden board. I sat down at the table behind her and said, ‘Kath, I’ve had an idea.’
‘Oh yes?’
I told her what the doc had suggested. For a while she continued chopping. Then the movement of her hand ceased, but she didn’t turn round. I thought she was crying. I knew I should go over and comfort her, take her by the shoulders, but the great block that had stifled my emotions wouldn’t allow it. I sat there in agony until suddenly she turned on me, eyes blazing.
‘So, it’s a separation you want,’ she said bitterly.
‘No, no. Just a break.’
‘A trial separation is what they call it.’
‘Well — whatever.’
‘There’s only one thing I want to know.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Is there someone else?’
I was so taken aback I hesitated before answering and, naturally, that made things worse. ‘No, no!’ I insisted. ‘There’s nobody.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course. For God’s sake!’
I can’t deny that my mind flew straight to Tracy — but nevertheless what I’d said was true.
Kath waited a moment, chopping away again at her vegetables, before she asked, ‘How do I know Mum will have us? You realize she’s going into the Musgrave any moment? She can’t put it off — she’s been waiting for years.’
‘Of course. I know. I thought maybe it would be a good idea if you were there to give her a hand when she comes out.’
‘Big deal! How long am I supposed to go for?’
‘It depends. Maybe a month.’
‘What’s everyone going to say?’
‘We’ll put it round that your mum needs help after her operation.’
‘I can see you’ve thought it all out.’
‘Kath — it’s my fault, I know. I’m not blaming you. It’s all down to me.’
She gave me a strange look. I think she was more scared than angry.
‘I’ll have to hand in my notice at the bank.’
‘I know. But that’s not the end of the world. I’ll be able to send money.’
‘Who’ll look after you if I go?’
‘I’ll manage. I can get most meals in camp.’
When she looked round again, her eyes were full of tears, and she said, half in pity, half in contempt, ‘You poor old thing!’
The bank took her resignation in good part, and we arranged for her to go the following Saturday. Her mother positively welcomed the plan, although she didn’t know what was behind it, of course. The movements clerk in camp booked air tickets — two out of my allocation of three — so that there was no cost to us. Kath didn’t take much luggage — one suitcase for herself and a holdall for Tim. As for Tim, if he’d cried as they were leaving, I think I’d have cracked up; thank God he didn’t. We’d told him he was going for a holiday with his Gran, and that chuffed him no end. He began packing his favourite teddies and telling everyone how the aeroplane would lift them up over the water and come down in Gran’s house.
We left KC at 6.30 on another lovely morning. Both of us were holding emotion at bay by keeping up a strictly practical front. As Kath got into the car she said, ‘Don’t forget to single the carrots when they’re big enough, in about a week. Leave them spaced at one every couple of inches, and push the earth well down afterwards. Otherwise carrot fly will get in.’
As we headed for Birmingham, our side of the motorway was almost empty; at the weekend, most people were going south. We didn’t talk much, and when I set the two of them down at the departure door of the terminal building, it was just a quick kiss on the cheek and, ‘We’ll speak soon, then.’ As I drove away I turned my head and saw little Tim waving.
TWO
Tony was due in from the SEAL base in Florida one evening towards the end of June. The US military flight was scheduled to arrive at RAF Lyneham at 1630, so I borrowed a car from the MT section and drove up the A40 to give him a lift to Hereford. When it turned out that the plane was an hour late, I sat around in the arrivals lounge and had plenty of time to reflect on our conversations in the Iraqi gaol.
Born in Puerto Rico, the son of an electrician, he had one brother. When he was five, his father had decided to take the family to America, in search of a better life for them all. As they were leaving, the father said they were going because America was the land of opportunity. But things didn’t work out well for them. They ended up living in a Hispanic area of New York, and after a couple of years Tony’s father died, so his mother was left to bring up the two boys on her own. By the time Tony left school he’d been stabbed twice and shot once, all in casual muggings. Prospects of civilian work were zero, so as soon as he was old enough he joined the US Marine Corps, and after two or maybe three years went on into the Navy SEALs.
In 1989 he’d taken part in Operation Just Cause, aimed at removing President Noriega from Panama. A team of four divers was to put explosive charges on Noriega’s 65-foot patrol boat, the Presidente Porras, so that the vessel couldn’t be used to escape. Having left their own ship in two Gemini inflatables, they slipped into the harbour in wetsuits with enough oxygen to give them four hours underwater. Once they’d identified the boat, they hung 24-lb timed charges of plastic explosive over the propellers before returning undetected to their mother ship.
As they were leaving, they heard the explosives go off, and knew the patrol boat was out of action for the duration, if not for ever. The success put them on a high as they flew off by helicopter for their second task — to capture Paitilla airfield, not far from Panama City, and to disable a Lear jet owned by Noriega.
The platoon were so confident about their plan that they saw no need to take heavy weapons; they thought they could accomplish the task by stealth — sneak in, take out a few guards, and have the airfield under their command. But as their choppers approached they started to take incoming fire. Too late they realized that the place was full of Noriega’s troops, armed with heavy weapons. The SEALs eventually managed to capture the field, but only at severe cost. In the firefights, which were fearsome, they suffered eleven casualties, four of them dead. Among those four were three of Tony’s good mates. And so he learnt how easily an operation can go tits-up, ending in a bag of shit.
At last the tannoy announced the arrival of the flight, and in came the C-141 from Florida. A few minutes later Tony burst out of the Customs exit, with a pack on his back and a big holdall in his left hand. When he saw me waiting, his face lit up. ‘Well, I’ll be damned!’ he exclaimed, hammering me on the shoulder with his free fist.
‘You’re looking good!’ I said.
‘You too.’
He’d put on weight — which was hardly a surprise, considering he’d been half-starved the last time I saw him. Now he was fit and bronzed, altogether in great shape. His tan accentuated the Puerto Rican elements in his appearance. With his jet-black hair and thick, arched eyebrows he was very dark anyway, almost swarthy; now his skin was even darker, and his teeth, when he grinned, shone even whiter. His hard New York accent was just as I remembered it: ‘work’ came out as ‘woik’, ‘person’ as ‘poyson’.
The OC had asked me to help him settle in, so on his first night I showed him round the camp before leaving him to have a shower and get his head down until the jetlag wore off. On the second evening I drove him out to Keeper’s Cottage, and on the way I decided to break the news about me and Kath. I could have kept up the pretence that she’d gone home to look after her mother, but I’d got to know Tony so well that I didn’t feel like trying to deceive him. Of course he’d never seen her, but I’d talked so much about her while we were guests of Saddam that he must have felt he knew her well.