The Songbird and the Soldier

Wendy Lou Jones

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First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2013

Copyright © Wendy Lou Jones 2013

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Wendy Lou Jones asserts the moral right

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available from the British Library

This novel is entirely a work of fiction.

The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are

the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to

actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is

entirely coincidental.

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Ebook Edition © July 2013

ISBN: 9780007543939

Version 2014-10-01

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This book is dedicated to my dad, who sadly did not live long enough to see my name in print, but who gave me the courage to try. And to my long-suffering husband, who stood by my side every step of the way while I did.

Sergeant Andrew Garrington was in control: his house was in order, his shirts were crisp and his career was on track, so the fact that he had caught on to his men’s misplaced notion of finding him some new witless woman to pander to didn’t bother him unduly. He played with his beer mat as he listened to the men chat. His attention was caught by a rowdy set entering through the front of the bar and disappearing out of the back.

Corporal Dean Fletcher scanned the room for female life and Spike spotted him. “Uh-oh, Romeo’s on high alert.”

Dean looked back and grinned.

“Well, found anything?”

“No.”

“Aren’t we meant to be finding a bird for the Prof?” Miller asked.

Andy twitched an eyebrow. “Oh no you don’t.”

“Come on, Prof. You’ve been single for far too long now. You need to get yourself a woman,” Spike said.

“I seem to be managing quite well by myself, thanks.”

“But you need a good woman.”

“Oh, a
good
woman, well why didn’t you say so? No.”

“Andy, think about it. You need someone to keep you sane while we’re out there. Remember last time? It’s no good if you’ve got no one to drag you back up again when shit’s going down,” said Miller shaking his head.

Claire had walked out before his last tour in Afghanistan. Andy remembered. It had been hard, but he had got through it on his own. He was a stronger man now than he had been then, a better soldier. He had learned in that time that women and relationships were generally disappointing. They were too needy to fit into his lifestyle.

“One day you’ll meet a girl who really gets under your skin and it’ll completely poleaxe you. You might even find yourself getting…” Miller held up his hands to make parenthesis in the air, “emotionally involved.”

The guys laughed. Dean’s laugh was the loudest. “The Prof? You’ve got to be kidding. I’ve seen more emotion in a potato.”

“Whereas you seem to fall head over heels in love with each and every one of them,” Andy replied.

“Absolutely.”

“For about five minutes.”

“Seems long enough to me!”

Spike patted Dean on the back and Andy left the table, rolling his eyes. He approached the bar. Leaning forward, he raised his hand to get the bargirl’s attention. She looked across at him while pulling a pint. She smiled and then raised her eyebrows in question.

“Hi, sorry,” he called, “um… which way to the… er-?”

“Down the corridor and on your right,” she called back, trying to make herself heard over the general hubbub of a busy Saturday night. Briefly she watched him walk away and then returned her attention to the matter in hand.

Andy made his way through the crowd and out into the relative peace of the corridor. Along the walls, small shaded lights lit up old photos of the pub as it had been in years gone by. Wooden panelling hung heavily on either side of him and the dusty stone floor beneath his feet echoed as he walked. Near the end of the corridor he could hear the muted sound of voices chanting. The noise grew louder and louder as he neared the back room and then a cheer went up and he could hear people clapping. Two girls came bustling out of the room, passed him and went off to the right, sending a wave of light and sound crashing around him. They disappeared into the toilets and the door to the back room swung slowly closed again.

As the bright light began to fade, Andy could hear a beautiful voice begin to sing a soft, haunting melody. It was unlike anything he’d heard in a pub before. The song wreathed itself around him, made him stop in his tracks for a moment and listen. He checked for anyone who might notice and then caught the edge of the door with his hand and peered inside.

The room was alive with colour. Banners and balloons hung all around the walls. As he watched, Andy noticed that everything inside the room was now still. Only the girl singing on the far side of the room moved. She was swaying slowly in time with the music, the microphone in one hand and the other reaching out with the grace of an angel. Andy was captivated.

Her hair was brown and waved gently downwards below her shoulders, restrained only by one satin flower tucked in behind her ear. She was wearing patterned blue jeans and a sea-green top that looped up and around her neck leaving the pale skin of her shoulders quite bare. She was neither fat nor thin; in fact her body seemed to flow effortlessly from one supple curve into another. He leaned against the doorframe and watched and listened as she sang. He couldn’t say what the song was about, or who had originally sung it, but one line swam repeatedly through his head: ‘Until you’re resting here with me.’ His pulse quickened. She was beautiful. And then in a moment of wondrous clarity, he realised that it was her. It had to be. The girl he had kept close to his heart for the past six years. The girl who had kept him going whenever anything went bad in his life. It was Sam.

Andy felt his heart race as the years fell away. His mouth went dry and his brain refused to think clearly. It had to be her. Of course she wasn’t exactly the same, but it was still her, wasn’t it? The two girls emerged from the toilets and pushed past, back into the room, their loud chatter and giggles jarring him.

Andy seized the moment and reached out to them. He caught one of them by the shoulder. “Excuse me. Who is that girl?” he asked, pointing to the singer.

The two girls gave each other a look and giggled some more, but quieter now. “The girl who’s singing?”

“Yes.” He nodded.

“That’s Sam: Samantha Litton. Do you know her?”

Andy shook his head slowly and the girls walked away giggling together. As he watched, heads began to turn and look round at him as they realised someone was there who wasn’t meant to be there. He started to feel self-conscious, but then Sam finished and everyone clapped and turned back again. Sam re-joined her group and smiled bashfully at the things people were saying to her, until somebody whispered in her ear and pointed him out. She turned and looked directly at him.

Sam felt herself blush.

“Well go on then,” Kate said. “He’s gorgeous.”

Sam looked across at Chloe. “It’s your birthday, Chlo’. He’s probably here to see you.”

“I don’t recognise him,” Chloe said.

Kate rolled her eyes. “Oh you’re bloody hopeless, you are. Look, if you don’t get your butt over there and at least talk to the guy in the next thirty seconds I’m going to leap over there and nab him for myself,” she said, hitching up the side of her cerise strapless top.

Sam was relieved. “Okay.”

“No it’s not okay, ’cause it’s you he’s drooling over, not me. Now get yourself over there and snog his face off!” She poked Sam hard in the ribs.

Sam jumped and turned to stare daggers at her friend, but Kate was just as determined. Sam hesitated and looked down at the glass of wine in her hand.

“Just talk to him, Sam. He won’t bite.”

Sam took a deep breath and stood up. A rousing chorus of whoops went up from her group of friends as she slowly made her way around the tables and across the room in the direction of the handsome stranger.

Andy stood up tall in the doorway and tried very hard to breathe. His mind was racing, searching for what he was going to say. He looked down at the floor and shifted his weight. He fidgeted with his clothing and then looked up again. She was almost at the door.

“Hello,” she said. “Are you here for the party?”

Andy felt a firm slap on his back.

“So this is where you’ve got to. We thought you’d gone AWOL.” Dean had come looking for him. The next singer took the microphone and Dean moved round to Andy’s side. “Shit, what is that wailing?” Dean noticed the girl standing in front of them. “Oh, excuse me. Hello, gorgeous.”

Sam smiled politely and turned back to Andy. “Are you one of Chloe’s friends?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” Dean continued, “whoever she is.”

Andy’s head was spinning. Somewhere along the line he had lost the ability to connect with women on anything more than a superficial level and mostly that was the way he liked it. But this was different, this actually mattered. The angel, who had come to mean so much to him in the years since they’d last met, was standing before him again, only now, he was a shadow of the boy he had once been.

Dean’s eyes were all over her, drinking her in and it twisted a knife in Andy’s side just to see it.

“No,” Andy managed, “I was just listening-”

“You deserted your mates to listen to this?” Dean said, obviously appalled.

Andy stiffened in irritation. He looked at Sam, desperately hoping she would understand what he was thinking. She had to know that he was not like Dean, a brash lad who acted so loudly and unrefined. He studied her, trying to work out how to speak to her without frightening her off, or looking a complete fool in front of one of the guys. Her beautiful brown eyes melted him. They had a shy curiosity that made her look so utterly vulnerable. Her skin was flawless, her expressions were enchanting and her lips were… were… tantalising.

Sam’s brow twitched and she turned to walk away.

“Don’t go,” Dean suddenly called out. “You can’t just leave us here.”

Sam turned round and raised an eyebrow.

What was Dean playing at? Andy didn’t understand. Hadn’t he already annoyed the girl enough, ruining his chance of being with her again? He needed to speak up, fight for what should be his. He couldn’t let her slip away. He looked across and saw the friends she was sitting with. Maybe she’d changed. Maybe she wasn’t the same girl he remembered from back then, back when he was first starting out.

“We could get back to the bar to find the others have already gone and we’d be left on our own,” Dean said.

“You’re big boys,” Sam replied. “I’m sure you’ll cope.”

“I can beg,” Dean dropped down on one knee, “loudly.” Others in the room began to look around.

Sam walked back over, embarrassed. “Get up, you daft fool.”

Dean stood up. He turned to Andy. “Did she just call me a fool?”

Andy wasn’t sure what was going on, but at least the girl was still with them. He nodded. “I think so.”

“And us about to risk life and limb to defend our country. All we ask is a little respect.”

Sam looked uneasy. She glanced from one to the other. “Are you soldiers?”

“Corporal Dean Fletcher at your service, Ma’am.” Andy watched as Dean turned on his most charming smile.

A light went on behind Sam’s eyes. “Dean Fletcher? I didn’t recognise you.” She looked back at her group and then back to the lads. “We went to school together. You’re Kate’s next door neighbour, aren’t you? Your parents, I mean.”

“Katy? Yeah, you know her?” Now it was Dean who seemed a little unsure.

“Of course. She’s my best friend. I’m sorry. You just look so different… in a good way.”

Dean beamed and Andy’s heart raged. He had lost her. One moment of recognition and he had simply faded into the shadows.

“Well you should be sorry, especially for treating a guy as coldly as that.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“Well, I’ll forgive you, perhaps… for a kiss.” He held out a cheek.

Smooth. Very smooth, Andy thought, resenting every syllable Dean spoke. He realised he had been out-classed. He, on the other hand, was rusty. But she wouldn’t actually fall for it, would she?

Sam hesitated for a moment. “I don’t think so. I know about you lot. A girl in every port, isn’t it?”

Dean clutched his chest. “I’m hurt.” He turned to Andy. “She’s vicious, this one.”

A blonde girl approached Sam from behind. “Hello, Dean. Are you harassing my friend? And that’s sailors, Sam, not… well… actually-”

“-Katy. A pleasure, as always.” An uncomfortable tension prickled between the pair of them.

“Come on,” Kate said, urging Sam back to her friends.

“A date then?” Dean called. “Dinner? A drink, just a drink?” Sam stopped and turned back toward Dean. “Give me your number. Come on, you know you’re tempted. Come on… for me?”

Sam sighed and, smiling, she walked back up to him. Dean whipped out a pen and rummaged for a piece of paper. Sam took the pen and wrote her number down on his hand.

“I’ll call you,” he said.

“No you won’t” Sam told him.

“I will. You’ll see.” Sam walked away with her friend, deep in conversation. “Goodbye, Gorgeous,” he called and then slapped Andy on the back and walked back into the corridor. “Come on, Prof, the guys are waiting.”

Sam retook her seat to a round of applause.

“Well?” Chloe said. “What was he like?”

“Gorgeous,” Kate said, “But Doofus here was too busy being chatted-up by Dean Fletcher, my pillock of a next door neighbour.”

Sam blushed. “But he’s lovely.”

“He’s an arsehole, Sam. You’ve just never seen past his twinkling blue eyes, that’s all.”

“I didn’t recognise him. He’s… fitter. And taller, and he’s got a bit of a tan.” Sam sighed.

Kate stuck two fingers down her throat. “Yes, well maybe he has got better looking with time, but it’s still… him.”

Andy followed Dean back up the corridor and the door to the back room shut behind him. They took some stick from the rest of the lads about how long they’d been. Dean took out a piece of paper from his jacket pocket and scribbled down the number next to the word ‘brunette’, and then he licked the back of his hand and rubbed hard to erase all sign of the phone number Sam had written there. The lads sighed in groans of understanding and he popped it away back in his pocket and grinned. The last of their pints were emptied and they filed outside in happy union, in search of the next drink of the night.

Outside it was dark. Plumes of mist sprang from their mouths as they walked down the back road to the King’s Head. In the streets not far away, Andy could hear people laughing and calling, their voices punctuated only by the echo of their footsteps from the quiet, cobbled lane.

Andy thought about how casually Dean had treated Sam. As soon as he had her number he seemed to lose all interest. He quickened his step to walk alongside him. “So are you going to ring that girl?” he asked, trying to sound as indifferent as possible.