Scorpion Sunset by Catrin Collier

Aylmer …’
    â€˜You mean General Faylmer , don’t you?’ Cleck-Heaton laughed loudly at his own well-worn joke. The General had been rechristened by the troops of both Relief and Expeditionary forces after his disastrous failure to relieve Kut.
    â€˜There’s talk of a new commander being appointed, but no one is certain who it will be. Although my money’s on Maude.’ Brooke placed his empty glass on the orderly’s tray.
    â€˜Good man,’ Perry agreed, ‘but all urgency appears to have left the Relief Force now Kut has fallen. From what I’ve heard the directive is still the same. Take Baghdad and consolidate our position in Mesopotamia.’
    â€˜To quote my CO, “Time is all that’s needed to bring success to our endeavours”.’ Reggie changed the subject. ‘I trust you have been allocated suitable quarters, Colonel Perry, Major Cleck-Heaton?’
    â€˜I’ve been given a bungalow. Not as good as the one I had before I went upstream, but it will do. My daughter’s there now. Fussing round as only a woman can.’ Perry checked the time on the mess clock. ‘Another round before dinner?’
    â€˜Or two. You’re fortunate to have a daughter here, sir. Mrs Cleck-Heaton is in India, which is why I’m staying here, in the mess.’
    â€˜Your daughter’s been waiting for you in Basra throughout the siege of Kut?’ Reggie enquired archly. He knew Maud Mason was Colonel Perry’s daughter and was eager to pay her back for rejecting his offer to become his mistress after they’d made love in a ‘private’ room he’d hired for the purpose. Believing herself a widow, Maud had been happy to bed him when she’d assumed he was about to propose. When he realised Maud expected marriage, he was shocked that a woman with her reputation could even consider herself suitable wife material for a Brooke.
    â€˜My daughter is married,’ Perry barked, raising his voice as he always did when he was forced to talk about something he found disagreeable. ‘She has a husband with the Expeditionary Force, now a prisoner of war. Not a regular – a, a medic. John Mason.’
    â€˜Major John Mason?’ Reggie feigned surprise.
    â€˜You know him?’ Perry asked.
    â€˜I was in school with John Mason, Charles Reid, and Harry Downe.’
    â€˜Harry Downe! Now that’s a name to conjure with,’ Cleck-Heaton sniggered.
    A major raised a glass at the table behind them. ‘To Lieutenant-Colonel Harry Downe. A great soldier, diplomat, and one of the rare breed who understood the Arab. We could have done with his assistance when we were trying to negotiate with the Bani Lam today.’
    â€˜Smythe, didn’t see you sitting there,’ Perry blustered loudly in an attempt to conceal his irritation with Cleck-Heaton’s tactlessness.
    Peter Smythe rose to his feet and indicated a fair-haired young man in civilian clothes sitting next to him. ‘Michael Downe, war correspondent.’ He deliberately reversed protocol and introduced the younger, less important man to the higher rank. ‘Downe, this is Colonel Perry. Your brother Harry’s commanding officer before the war. Colonel Perry, Harry Downe’s brother, Michael Downe, war reporter.’
    Perry snorted. ‘I see the family resemblance.’
    Half a dozen political officers who were sitting close to the door rose to their feet and raised their glasses. ‘To Lieutenant-Colonel Downe. May he rest in peace wherever he lies.’
    â€˜He’s where he deserves to be. In an unmarked grave in the desert.’ Cleck-Heaton had loathed Harry Downe for frequently making him the butt of his jokes.
    â€˜You didn’t like my brother, sir?’
    Cleck-Heaton realised Michael was watching him. ‘No, I didn’t,’ he retorted defiantly. ‘Any more than I like civilians who sit on their arses behind the