‘When do I get to meet her?’
‘She’s joining us for tea tomorrow afternoon.’ Mr Dangerfield looked at the egg once again. ‘If she’s the real thing, the time may have come for me to do something quite out of character.’
‘And what might that be, sir?’
‘Take a risk,’ said Mr Dangerfield.
*
Ben spent his weekend pinning VOTE KARPENKO posters on all twenty-nine college noticeboards, and even on the occasional fence along the way, despite being aware that Sasha’s opponents could legally tear down any fly postings.
As he moved from college to college, he grew more confident that Sasha was going to win, because whenever anyone stopped to chat, they either gave him a thumbs up, or assured him that they would be supporting his candidate this time. No one raised the subject of Fiona’s false accusations at the last election, and one or two admitted they now regretted not voting for Sasha the last time around. Just two of you would have been enough, Ben wanted to remind them.
He reluctantly had to admit, to everyone except Sasha, that Fiona had turned out to be a rather good Union president. Thanks to her father’s connections in the House of Commons, the list of guest speakers had been impressive, and her firm chairing of the committee, coupled with some innovative ideas, had been acknowledged by friend and foe alike.
Although she and Sasha rarely spoke, Fiona had recently suggested to Ben that the three of them should have dinner, and let bygones be bygones.
‘An olive branch?’ suggested Ben.
‘More like a fig leaf,’ said Sasha. ‘So you can tell her not until I’m sitting in the president’s chair.’
21
ALEX
Vietnam, 1972
‘What do you plan to do when you get back home?’ asked Lieutenant Lowell as he and Alex sat in a dugout and shared what passed as lunch.
‘Complete my economics degree at NYU, and then build an empire to rival Rockefeller’s.’
‘My godfather,’ said Lowell matter-of-factly. ‘I think you’d like him, and I know he’d like you.’
‘Do you work for the great man?’ asked Alex.
‘No, I’m chairman of a small bank in Boston that bears my family name. But to be honest, I’m chairman only in name. I prefer to concentrate on my first love, politics.’
‘Do you want to be president one day?’ asked Alex.
‘No thanks,’ said Lowell. ‘I’m not as ambitious as you, corporal, and I’m well aware of my limitations. But when I get back to Boston I plan to run for Congress, and possibly one day for the Senate.’
‘Like your grandfather?’ Lowell was taken by surprise and certainly wasn’t prepared for Alex’s next question. ‘Why didn’t you try to defer? You must have all the right connections to make sure you didn’t end up in this hellhole.’
‘True, but my other grandfather was a general, and he convinced me a spell in Vietnam wouldn’t do my political career any harm, especially as most of my rivals will have made sure they avoided the draft. But you’re right, every other member of my year at Harvard found some excuse not to be called up.’
Alex dug the last bean out of the bottom of the can, and devoured it slowly, as if it was one of his mother’s most delicious morsels.
‘Well, I guess it’s time to go in search of the enemy,’ said Lowell.
‘Some hope,’ said Alex.
*
On Wednesday evenings, while the rest of the unit went off to Lilly’s, Alex could be found in the canteen, his only companion a book. He had already exhausted Tolstoy, Dickens and Dumas in their own languages, and had recently turned his attention to Hemingway, Bellow and Cheever.
Addie wrote every week, and Alex hadn’t realized just how much he would miss her. He would have proposed, but not in a letter. However, once he was back . . .
Big Sam kept pressing him to join the boys on the brothel bus, but Alex continued to resist, even showing the Tank a photo of Addie.
‘You wouldn’t have to tell her,’ said Sam, with a huge grin.
‘But I would have to tell her,’ said Alex, as Presley crooned away on the canteen jukebox: You were always on my mind.
‘I think you’d like Kim,’ said Big Sam, refusing to give up.
‘I had no idea you liked Kipling,’ said Alex, returning his grin.
*
‘Do you ever give any thought to the futility of war?’ asked Alex.
‘Not if I can help it,’ said Lowell. ‘It might weaken my resolve, which wouldn’t help the men under my command if we ever had to face a real battle.’
‘But there must be young North Vietnamese soldiers sitting in dugouts nearby who, like us, just want to go home and be with their families. Doesn’t history teach us anything?’
‘Only that politicians should think a lot more carefully before they commit the next generation to war. How’s your mother coping without you?’ asked Lowell, wanting to change the subject.
‘As well as can be expected,’ said Alex. ‘My eleven stalls are just about breaking even, but the truth is, she can’t wait for me to come home. It’s almost time to renew my licences, and my mother will be no match for Mr Wolfe.’
‘Who’s he?’
‘My landlord.’
‘Can’t Dimitri deal with him? He sounds like a pretty tough guy.’
‘Frankly, he’s way out of his depth. Dimitri’s much happier when he’s on the high seas.’
‘Well, you’ve only got a few more months before we’ll be demobbed, which will please everyone except the Tank.’
‘Why? Doesn’t he want to go home?’
‘No, he’s requested a transfer to the Marines, which I will happily support. He wants to stay in the military when his year is up. If he had your brain, he’d end up a general.’
‘If we had to go into battle,’ said Alex, ‘I’d rather have him by my side than any general.’
*
The platoon were on a routine patrol when the order came through. They only had seventeen days to serve before they would be shipped back to the States, having completed their tour of duty.
Lieutenant Lowell asked HQ to repeat the order before he put down the field phone and gathered his men around him. ‘There’s been a skirmish nearby. One of our patrols was ambushed, and we’ve been ordered to go and support them.’
‘At last,’ said the Tank. His comrades didn’t look quite so convinced. Like Alex, they had been ticking off the days.
‘Three Huey helicopters are already on their way to the combat area with orders to evacuate the wounded and transport the dead back to HQ.’ The word ‘dead’ heightened Alex’s awareness that the 116th was about to take part in its first serious mission.
The Tank was first on his feet, with Corporal Karpenko only a yard behind, while the rest of the platoon quickly formed a crocodile, with Private Baker bringing up the rear.
‘No one speaks except me,’ said Lowell as they entered no-man’s-land. ‘Even a cough could alert the enemy and put the whole unit in danger.’
For an hour they edged slowly and cautiously through the undergrowth and into enemy territory. Lieutenant Lowell checked his compass against the grid reference on his map every few minutes. Suddenly, the sound of gunfire made the map redundant. They fell to the ground and crawled on their bellies towards the battlefield.
Alex looked up to see the first of the three Hueys circling above, searching the dense tropical forest for a patch of flat ground on which they could land.
On, on they crept. Never in his life had Alex felt so alert. Even so, he couldn’t help wondering where he might be in an hour’s time. At least he no longer felt he’d wasted a year of his life.