is my brother. You’re a gardener’s boy who fucks my girl.’ He shook his head. ‘And by the way, I’m never going to drill in Persia with you. Why would I? As far as I know, the concession belongs to the Montague family. It doesn’t belong to the fucking staff.’
He stumbled away, slipping on the fourth step of the staircase and crashing all the way to the bottom. He dragged himself back to the village, found an empty bed and fell into it. He was asleep within three seconds of his head hitting the pillow.
And here was the odd thing.
He slept well. He slept without dreams, without pain, without fogginess or delirium. It was a strange way to sleep the day the world collapsed.
26
Tom buttoned his shirt. His hands were shaking violently. His face was ash.
‘I didn’t know you were friends,’ said Lisette, begging pardon from the world. ‘I didn’t know … he was such a nice man, I really adored him.’
‘Don’t worry. Not your fault,’ said Tom in French, before adding in English, ‘Damnation. I had no idea he … Dammit,
dammit.’
Tom sat on the bed and tried to calm down.
Guy is my brother. You’re a gardener’s boy who fucks my girl.
He pushed the words away, but what Alan had said was too big to be so easily dismissed.
I’m never going to drill in Persia with you. Why would I? As far as I know, the concession belongs to the Montague family. It doesn’t belong to the fucking staff.
Tom breathed heavily, trying to calm himself. Alan was shocked. Alan was upset. Alan was talking rot –
‘Will he be all right?’ said Lisette, interrupting his thoughts.
‘Look, he’s just come from battle. It’s awful up there. He’s a sensitive sod at the best of times, and as for girls, he’s never … well, I don’t think that before you, he’s even –’
‘No, never. I had to teach him everything.’
‘Shit!’
Tom was doubly angry because he felt guilty. He’d known Alan was seeing Lisette and until recently he’d been careful to avoid seeing her too. But the last three days had been from hell. Tom had known that Alan had been hit, but, like Guy, he’d had no end of a time finding out where Alan was and in what condition. When he’d finally heard that Alan was essentially fine, his relief had been overpowering. In some strange way, Tom had felt drawn to seek out Lisette, the one other person who had been truly intimate with Alan. He’d gone in search of her and charmed his way into her kitchen. He’d had no intention of making love with her, but Tom wasn’t very strong-willed in the matter of sex and, in any event, with Alan safely in hospital, it didn’t seem to matter all that much. He should have known better.
They were quiet a moment. Then Lisette kissed Tom on the earlobe. He smiled and stroked her shoulder.
‘Do you go with many other men?’ he asked.
She thumped him gently on the bicep.
‘Cochon.’
Pig.
‘But really?’
‘Some. A few.’
‘For money, I suppose?’
‘Usually. Not with him. Never with him.’
‘With me?’
She shook her head.
‘He had no idea, none at all … Look I’ll give him time to get over all this. Explain it. I’d better not see you again. I won’t if it means upsetting Alan.’
‘What is that about brothers? You are or you aren’t?’
Tom explained briefly, ending by saying ‘Guy’s his blood brother, I’m his real brother. He knows that. In solemn truth, he knows that.’
‘And will it be all right?’
Tom nodded, kicking his bare feet out on the unvarnished floorboards. He was annoyed with himself for his stupidity, but he was furious with Guy for provoking things. Anger boiled inside him, hot and dangerous.
‘Well? It will be all right?’
Tom sighed heavily. ‘Yes. It’ll be all right.’
And once again, he was wrong, dead wrong.
It was getting to be a habit.
27
It was the following day: 19 August.
Tom was back in the support trenches when the fighting resumed. He was making a report to brigade staff, short of
He stumbled away, slipping on the fourth step of the staircase and crashing all the way to the bottom. He dragged himself back to the village, found an empty bed and fell into it. He was asleep within three seconds of his head hitting the pillow.
And here was the odd thing.
He slept well. He slept without dreams, without pain, without fogginess or delirium. It was a strange way to sleep the day the world collapsed.
26
Tom buttoned his shirt. His hands were shaking violently. His face was ash.
‘I didn’t know you were friends,’ said Lisette, begging pardon from the world. ‘I didn’t know … he was such a nice man, I really adored him.’
‘Don’t worry. Not your fault,’ said Tom in French, before adding in English, ‘Damnation. I had no idea he … Dammit,
dammit.’
Tom sat on the bed and tried to calm down.
Guy is my brother. You’re a gardener’s boy who fucks my girl.
He pushed the words away, but what Alan had said was too big to be so easily dismissed.
I’m never going to drill in Persia with you. Why would I? As far as I know, the concession belongs to the Montague family. It doesn’t belong to the fucking staff.
Tom breathed heavily, trying to calm himself. Alan was shocked. Alan was upset. Alan was talking rot –
‘Will he be all right?’ said Lisette, interrupting his thoughts.
‘Look, he’s just come from battle. It’s awful up there. He’s a sensitive sod at the best of times, and as for girls, he’s never … well, I don’t think that before you, he’s even –’
‘No, never. I had to teach him everything.’
‘Shit!’
Tom was doubly angry because he felt guilty. He’d known Alan was seeing Lisette and until recently he’d been careful to avoid seeing her too. But the last three days had been from hell. Tom had known that Alan had been hit, but, like Guy, he’d had no end of a time finding out where Alan was and in what condition. When he’d finally heard that Alan was essentially fine, his relief had been overpowering. In some strange way, Tom had felt drawn to seek out Lisette, the one other person who had been truly intimate with Alan. He’d gone in search of her and charmed his way into her kitchen. He’d had no intention of making love with her, but Tom wasn’t very strong-willed in the matter of sex and, in any event, with Alan safely in hospital, it didn’t seem to matter all that much. He should have known better.
They were quiet a moment. Then Lisette kissed Tom on the earlobe. He smiled and stroked her shoulder.
‘Do you go with many other men?’ he asked.
She thumped him gently on the bicep.
‘Cochon.’
Pig.
‘But really?’
‘Some. A few.’
‘For money, I suppose?’
‘Usually. Not with him. Never with him.’
‘With me?’
She shook her head.
‘He had no idea, none at all … Look I’ll give him time to get over all this. Explain it. I’d better not see you again. I won’t if it means upsetting Alan.’
‘What is that about brothers? You are or you aren’t?’
Tom explained briefly, ending by saying ‘Guy’s his blood brother, I’m his real brother. He knows that. In solemn truth, he knows that.’
‘And will it be all right?’
Tom nodded, kicking his bare feet out on the unvarnished floorboards. He was annoyed with himself for his stupidity, but he was furious with Guy for provoking things. Anger boiled inside him, hot and dangerous.
‘Well? It will be all right?’
Tom sighed heavily. ‘Yes. It’ll be all right.’
And once again, he was wrong, dead wrong.
It was getting to be a habit.
27
It was the following day: 19 August.
Tom was back in the support trenches when the fighting resumed. He was making a report to brigade staff, short of
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