Soldier's Daughters by Fiona Field Page B

officer.’
    ‘Then give her my number. I’d like a bit of company if she fancies an escape from the mess.’
    ‘Will do. Mind you, I’ll check her out first before I hand it over. If I think she’s a right cow I won’t bother.’

7
    ‘Come in, Corporal Blake.’ Sam’d made up her mind, as she’d set out to work on Monday morning, that she’d get through the rest of the initial interviews this week, come hell or high water. She was determined to know the names of every single one of the men under her command by Wednesday at the latest. Corporal Luke Blake was next on the list and, after what the ASM had told her about him, she was intrigued to meet him.
    She studied the NCO as he approached her desk. He didn’t look odd, despite what the ASM had said. He looked far from odd with his thick, dark, wavy hair, very blue eyes, tanned skin and unfairly long eyelashes. He was also wearing just a khaki T-shirt with his multicam trousers and she could see his muscles under the stretchy fabric. The only thing that spoilt the image was the way he glowered at her from under his level eyebrows and the angry set of his mouth. Sam tried a tentative smile but he stared back impassively, his intensely blue eyes unwavering, as if he was analysing her. Sizing her up. The cheek. But there was one thing about him Sam was certain of: despite Corporal Blake choosing to nominate a male friend as his next of kin, he wasn’t gay.
    ‘Have a seat.’ She waited while he took his beret off and settled himself. ‘I’ve been looking at your records.’ She smiled at him.
    ‘Yes, ma’am.’
    Even that short sentence told her he had a surprisingly educated accent. Which tied in with what the ASM had told her. ‘That’s quite a clutch of GCSEs you’ve got there.’
    ‘Yes, ma’am.’
    ‘But you didn’t do A levels?’
    ‘No, ma’am.’
    ‘Any reason?’
    ‘Several.’
    ‘Which were?’ She tapped her pencil on the desk.
    ‘Leaving school was pretty instrumental, ma’am.’
    ‘But you could have gone to college with those results.’
    ‘Could… but didn’t.’
    She sighed and put her pencil down before she broke it. ‘So, what about hobbies?’
    ‘I ski a bit.’
    ‘Did you learn through the army?’
    ‘No, ma’am.’
    ‘School trip?’
    ‘Not really.’
    She leaned forward. ‘So how did you learn?’
    ‘With the Ecole du Ski Français.’
    She took a long, deep breath before she continued. ‘Any other hobbies? Sports?’
    ‘A bit of swimming and cycling and I run.’
    ‘How much is a bit ?’
    ‘Ironman triathlons.’
    Sam kept her face impassive. She reckoned he was baiting her and she was not going to rise. She changed tack. ‘Where do you see yourself in ten years?’ she asked.
    ‘Depends where I get posted to.’
    ‘Rank-wise?’ she snapped.
    ‘Warrant officer, I hope.’
    ‘You could go for a commission.’
    ‘No!’
    His vehement reaction wrong-footed Sam. ‘It was just a suggestion.’
    ‘A suggestion I would prefer to ignore…’ A pause, then, ‘Ma’am.’
    ‘May I ask why?’
    Blake looked her directly in the eye and said, ‘No.’
    Sam’s irritation with him was now morphing into real, cold anger. ‘Well,’ she said, trying to keep her voice steady, ‘I mustn’t keep you. I am sure you have plenty to be getting on with.’
    ‘Thank you… ma’am.’ Blake put his beret on his head and gave her a salute and a look that stopped just short of being insolent.
    After he’d shut the door of her office Sam flopped back in her chair. First the ASM and now Blake. What had she done to deserve that pair in her workshop?
    At lunchtime, after a long tedious morning cross-checking documents, Lance Corporal Immi Cooper strolled into the corporals’ club, which was above the newly re-located Tommy’s Bar. As she pushed open the door she once again thought that there were distinct advantages to having moved up from being a private soldier. For a start, she was now entitled to a single, en