The Long Road From Kandahar, page 23
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Cornwall, 2010
Delphi woke to find the day hidden in sea mist. Vicious rain lashed the windows from the east. The sea was a sullen gash between the rooftops; the world outside muffled by a Cornish grey blanket. The silence seemed ominous to Delphi and strangely oppressive.
It was a day you had to stride out into or moulder inside with the lights on, settling at nothing. Delphi lay warm in her bed and fought anxiety.
Each morning she felt the sharp bruise of fear before she stretched out to switch on the Radio Four news. There seemed hardly a day now when a soldier was not killed or injured. More insidiously, Afghan soldiers living and training in the British camps were abruptly turning into the enemy within. Blue on blue. ‘Unnerving,’ Ben told her. ‘We sleep with our guns and one of us always stays awake and on guard.’
Each morning Delphi meditated and prayed for Ben’s safety. For the safety of all soldiers. She knew that if anything happened to him, she could not be one of those mothers or wives who believed his death had been worth the sacrifice. She would be proud of his bravery without believing his death would make any difference to the war against the Taliban. They would re-form like a great wave once ISAF pulled their soldiers out of Afghanistan.
Yesterday, Ben had rung her to let her know he would be away from the base for a few days. He had sounded cheerful. He was looking forward to getting away from the noisy ops room for a while. He was off on patrol with his boys.
Delphi could hear Ian downstairs making tea. Finn had been subdued since Christmas. He missed Ben and Hanna more than he would admit. Finn was used to being with her and Ian during the term, but he looked forward to his half-terms and holidays on the patch in Germany, with his friends, with his own room, in his own house, with at least one of his parents.
Finn was no longer grounded in his own life. He needed the familiar environment of army life and service people around him. It was all he had known. It was his security. Most of Ben’s regiment were out in Afghanistan. That brought the wives and children all closer together, helping one another through anxious days. However important she and Ian were to Finn, they could not give him this feeling of being part of a regimental family.
Only that close little bond of army families left behind in army quarters, knew what it was like to watch the news, day in, day out, while their men were away on the front line. Together, they counted the weeks, the days, the hours until the tour ended; when they could breathe again, sleep at night. Family officers were on hand to advise and comfort. Outings and entertainment were laid on to distract, to make sure there was fun to counteract constant anxiety. By leaving Germany, Hanna had placed Finn on the outside of a close military world that closed ranks to look after its own; where there was a shorthand for grief and fear, because everyone understood.
Delphi heard Ian coming slowly up the stairs with her tea and sat up. Ian smiled. ‘On a day like this the best thing to do is jump straight out of bed and do something, old thing, or depression will take hold.’
‘Quite right, darling,’ Delphi said. ‘What are you planning? Shed?
‘Shed.’ He smiled. ‘Making a new bird table, old one rotting away, as you know. What about you?’
‘I’ll meditate, then go off into town. There are a few things I need. I’ll post my parcel to Ben and probably pop into the framers to see how he’s doing. Shall we have breakfast together before you head for your shed?’
‘Good idea. Beastly day.’
Finn, Peter, and Iso stood at the window gazing out at the rain-soaked landscape. The rain had stopped but the black sky was still full of it.
‘The house match will be cancelled,’ Peter said hopefully. ‘Won’t it?’
‘Doubt it,’ Finn said. ‘There would have to be an earthquake or hurricane before Feathers would cancel a rugby match.’
‘At least it’s only a house match, not an away game and we haven’t got to go to Redruth in this,’ Peter said. ‘We can be making toast in two hours, if we’re lucky.’
‘Let’s get changed then.’ Finn grinned to himself, thinking of Raza, who hated rugby, and the cold, with equal passion. ‘At least Raz has got out of playing this match …’ he said, wondering if Raza had found his father and if he was all right. The others sighed and agreed. ‘Lucky Raz. Who wants to play rugby in a monsoon …’
It was not that Finn hated rugby, he was an average player, quick on his feet, but his heart did not seem to be in anything this term. He had felt a restlessness in all he did since Christmas. A sense of waiting. For Hanna to come back. For Ben to return. To go home.
Hanna emailed and Skyped him regularly. Izzy seemed more settled. Hanna had stopped roaming around Finland visiting people, so Izzy was seeing more of her grandparents. Uki had made her a sledge with her name on it and she kept sending Finn photos of herself with the adopted ginger tom kitten who lived with their grandparents but, according to Izzy, really belonged to her. Izzy had imaginatively named him Tom.
She was making friends and picking up Finnish in a way Finn could not hope to do now. When he was born Hanna had wanted him to be bilingual, but it was such a difficult language and it excluded Ben, so she had given up after a few months. She also told him speaking her own language made her feel homesick.
The three boys trudged up to the playing fields under the dripping trees. Ahead of them they saw Chatto and his acolytes. As soon as Chatto realized Finn was behind him he started to take little mincing steps with one wrist bent as if he carried a handbag.
‘Ignore him,’ Peter warned Finn, as Chatto turned and danced jeeringly backwards to them to the laughter of his friends.
‘Aw!’ Chatto called. ‘Aw, is Finny missing his little Taliban friend then? Oh dear, oh dear, what’ll he do if the Paki never comes back but has run off to his band of brothers? Boo hoo! Boo hoo!’
He ran in silly little circles round Finn. Finn stopped walking and called out to Peter and Iso. ‘Hey! Chatto is outing himself! How brave. I never suspected. I never realized … did you?’
Iso laughed and deftly stuck his foot out and Chatto went sprawling on to the sodden ground. Amidst the nervous laughter of his friends, Chatto hauled himself to his feet. Furious, he moved towards Iso but then saw Mr Feathers out of the corner of his eye. Instead, he leant toward Finn. ‘My father says all Pakis are devious, corrupt, and untrustworthy …’
‘My father says the same about politicians,’ Finn retorted. ‘Especially if they are called Chatto.’ Even Chatto’s friends smirked.
Mr Feathers drew level with the boys. ‘Come on, boys, stop bickering. Keep it for the match.’
‘You better watch it,’ Peter said to Finn and Iso. ‘Chatto isn’t going to let that go. You made him look a prick.’
‘He is a prick,’ Finn said. ‘What’s his obsession with Raz, anyway? Raz has never done anything to him.’
‘He doesn’t like clever bastards like you or Raz. Or maybe he’s just a racist.’
‘Nice if we could beat Roskear, that would rile Chatto even more, but we won’t, they’re better players.’
‘Chatto plays dirty. Hope Feathers is on the ball refereeing. We’ll try and look out for you on the field.’
‘I’m not afraid of that galumphing elephant,’ Finn said. ‘Chatto’s got weight, but I’ve got speed.’
Chatto’s House, Roskear, had a stronger team and it was a rough, dirty game. The rain started again halfway through the match in a drenching miserable mist. Finn thought of Ben. His dad was a tough rugby player. He could never hope to be as good or sporty as him at anything, except tennis. Yet Ben had never shown disappointment in him, only encouragement and pride.
Suddenly, in the rain, on a corner of the bitterly cold playing fields, Finn felt an abrupt stab of fear. The feeling was so acute that for a second he doubled over in pain.
None of the spectators shivering under umbrellas seemed to notice. Finn took a breath, straightened up and jogged across the field towards the action. He would email Ben straight after the game.
Peter threw the ball his way and Finn picked it up and ran weaving through bodies, adrenalin pumping, and scored a try to cheers. Even so, they lost the match.
Finn saw Mr Dominic answering his mobile as the boys filed off the field. Then he watched him moving fast, almost running back towards the school. Finn did not know why, but the unusual sight of his housemaster breaking into a run alarmed him. He was gripped by irrational panic and started to sprint after him. He shot under the avenue of trees, down the stone steps, hanging on to the rail and leaping down the slippery moss-strewn granite, as he watched his feet.
Mr Dominic was already out of sight and that meant he had been running at speed once he was out of sight of the boys. Finn felt sickness rise in his throat. He was frightened of turning the corner and seeing the school ahead, knowing, with every fibre of his being, that something dreadful was waiting for him there.
Delphi was posting Ben’s parcel, filling in the Custom Declaration Form as she chatted to the woman behind the counter. Suddenly the urge to get home as quickly as possible overcame her. She paid for the parcel and hurried out of the post office, through the busy town and back through the park.
A thin opening in the clouds revealed a watery sun on a stretch of grey sea above the houses. Her house glinted white, still there. The same cars were still parked outside. Irrationally Delphi felt reassured. She hurried down the last few yards to the gate, out of breath, heart thumping, feeling foolish.
It was then that she noticed, behind a builder’s van, a police car and a Royal Navy Land Rover parked at the bottom of the road by the post-box. She stood frozen, her hand on the gate. She knew what it meant. There was no army stationed in Cornwall. Naval officers had to bring bad news to families.
She clicked the gate open and saw Ian through the conservatory window talking to two officers in uniform. He had his mobile in his hand, and she thought, He is about to ring me.
Ian heard the gate and turned and hurried out to her. His face was grey with shock. He tried to say something, but Delphi had already moved past him, into the house, towards two young naval officers and an older policeman, whose face she recognized.
The men stared at her with that mixture of pity and dread. Delphi whispered, ‘Is my son dead?’
They both shook their heads vehemently. ‘No. No. Mrs Charles, Major Charles is not dead, but he has been injured. I’m so sorry. As with your husband, I am required to read out a formal statement to you, laying out the few details we have of what happened to your son …’
Delphi listened. At 7.24 a.m. on the fourth of February, 2010 Major Charles was on an operation in a remote area of Helmand Province. We believe an IED was detonated directly on to the track the patrol were travelling. Your son and others in the patrol sustained serious injuries and were airlifted to the hospital at Camp Bastion where their injuries are currently being assessed …’
The officer lowered his roll of paper. ‘We are very sorry, Mr and Mrs Charles, to have to bring you this news. I’m afraid we know very few details, as yet …’
Ian cleared his throat. ‘You say serious injuries. Do you mean life-threatening?’
‘I am afraid I don’t have details at this time of your son’s condition, but my colleague will give you some telephone numbers. We have already contacted Major Charles’s wife, as his next of kin. I believe she is already on her way from Helsinki. She will be given a liaison officer as soon as she arrives. He will keep the family informed as soon as information is available. Your son’s commanding officer will, of course, be contacting Major Charles’s wife as soon as he can. There is obviously a news blackout at the moment …’
‘Soldiers were killed as well as injured?’ Delphi asked.
‘I am afraid I have no details.’
‘Are Ben’s injuries likely to be severe?’
‘I’m sorry, I have no details, Mrs Charles—’
‘Finn!’ Ian said suddenly. ‘I must get to my grandson. He is in school here … Delphi?’ Ian grabbed the car keys. ‘Will you be all right on your own, while I go for Finn? You’ll need to stay by the phone for news.’
Delphi nodded. ‘Go, Ian. Drive carefully. Bring Finn back to us …’ Then she saw Ian’s hands were shaking, his face ashen. ‘Darling, I don’t think you are fit to drive. You’re in shock.’
The police sergeant stepped forward. ‘Come on, sir, I’ll drive you. I think that’s the best thing.’
One of the naval officers had written down a list of names with telephone numbers for Delphi. ‘The welfare officers are here to help you, Mrs Charles. Just be patient, it might take a little while for you to get through on these lines. I’ll leave my colleague with you …’
‘Thank you so much,’ Delphi said. ‘But there is really no need. I will keep busy making phone calls.’
The officer looked at his watch anxiously. ‘Are you sure, Mrs Charles? As soon as we have any news, we, or the family officer will be in touch.’
When they had gone the house seemed very still. Delphi looked at her watch. Those kind naval officers had only been in the house an hour. It seemed like a lifetime.
She lit a candle in front of one of her Buddhas and prayed. Ben was alive. He had not been killed. He was strong. He was a fighter. Delphi hung onto this thought. She closed her eyes and listened to the wind outside and the cry of seagulls. Inside the silent house the French clock ticked like a heartbeat. She thought of Ben lying far from them all, struggling for his life in a field hospital. She could not bear it.
She went back into the kitchen and turned the telephone numbers between her fingers. She was terrified of knowing more; that Ben had died in hospital. That he could be so horrifically injured he might wish he had died. Delphi drew in her breath and gasped at this only too real possibility.
‘My darling boy,’ she whispered to the empty house where the air around her felt stifling, as if it had its own life. Was Ben lying in terrible pain? Was he conscious? Was he being operated on at this moment?
She reached out to dial a number and the phone rang. She grabbed it.
‘Mrs Charles? James Bradshaw, Ben’s CO. We met briefly once in Germany … I’m on Satellite … Can you hear me?’
‘Yes. Yes, I can hear you. I remember you, James. Please, tell me what’s happened …’
‘Let me first reassure you that Ben was airlifted to Camp Bastion with great speed and he is getting the best medical attention possible … but I have to tell you his injuries are serious. He is in the operating theatre as we speak. We will know more in a few hours …’
‘Did Ben remain conscious … after it happened?’ Delphi felt a stab of fear.
‘No.’ James Bradshaw said quickly. ‘I’m so sorry, Mrs Charles, that I have to speak to you in these circumstances …’
‘What are Ben’s injuries?’ Delphi asked quietly.
James Bradshaw hesitated. ‘They are still being assessed …’
‘Please be honest. I need to know if Ben might die in Camp Bastion.’
There was a pause. The CO’s voice sounded unsteady. ‘Ben has almost certainly lost his left leg …’
Delphi’s feet went from under her. ‘Are you there, Mrs Charles. I am so sorry. This must be such a shock. I cannot lie. Ben’s injuries are severe. He caught the blast to his left side, and he’s lost a lot of blood.’
‘Thank you, James. This must be very hard for you and the rest of your men.’
‘It is. My soldiers are in shock. We are a close regiment. An officer will contact you and Hanna as soon as there is more news of Ben’s condition. I’m so sorry, Delphi, we are all praying for Ben. If anyone can pull through, Ben will.’
‘James, have you spoken to Hanna?’
‘I have. I didn’t tell her the extent of Ben’s injuries over the phone, but I warned her that he had been badly injured.’
‘Good. I do appreciate you calling me. I realize I’m not officially next of kin, but because of the circumstances, I’d be so grateful if you, or someone in the regiment, could please make sure I’m kept up to date with what is happening to Ben. Hanna and I are in two different places at the moment, and my husband and I have Finn with us.’
‘Of course, we’ll try to keep you both in the loop. If Ben stabilizes, he will be flown back to Selly Oak in Birmingham as soon as possible. You will have a liaison officer appointed to the family.’
‘Thank you, James. Please take care of yourself.’
‘You too, Delphi. You too.’
Finn cut across the lawn, sliding and leaving slash marks as he ran towards the huge trunk of the fir hiding the entrance of Trevelyan House. He leapt down the last few steps onto the gravel and it was then he saw the police car with Ian, Mr Dominic, and a policeman standing beside it.
Finn felt the blood beat in his ears as he ran on gasping for breath. As the three figures turned towards him everything went into slow motion, like a reel of film unwinding. His legs seemed to slow as he ran, Mr Dominic was moving towards him, Ian was reaching out for him. He heard his own voice screaming, ‘My dad? My dad … Is my dad dead?’
Mr Dominic caught and held him, steadying him. Ian repeated over and over, ‘Ben is not dead. He is not dead, dear boy, but injured. He’s been injured …’
‘How? What happened? Was it an IED?’ Finn’s tongue stuck to the roof of his dry mouth.
‘We don’t know many details yet, Finn. We just know he’s injured and been casevac’d to hospital in Camp Bastion …’
Finn began to shake and his teeth to chatter. ‘Ben can’t die. He can’t die … he can’t die …’
Mr Dominic shepherded him inside and Finn found himself wrapped in a blanket and propped in a chair by the fire. His dirty boots and socks had been taken off. Mercy tried to press a mug of hot tea into his hands, but Finn’s fingers were shaking so much she put the mug down and began to warm his icy hands between her own.
Mercy kept up a gentle flow of comforting clichés as she tried to rub warmth into him. ‘Finn … Finn, your father’s a strong man … He will have the best care in the world. Wonderful medical people in the hospitals out there, I was a nurse, so I know …’
