Cat O'Nine Tales and Other Stories - Jeffrey Archer [2]
They remained oblivious to each other throughout their school days until Sue became head girl. After that, Chris couldn’t help but notice her because at the end of morning assembly she would read out the school notices for the day. Bossy was the adjective most often trotted out by the lads whenever Sue’s name came up in conversation (strange how women in positions of authority so often acquire the sobriquet bossy, while a man holding the same rank is somehow invested with qualities of leadership).
When Sue left at the end of the year Chris once again forgot all about her. He did not follow in her illustrious footsteps and become head boy, although he had a successful—by his standards—if somewhat uneventful year. He played for the school’s second eleven cricket team, came fifth in the cross-country match against Grimsby Grammar, and did well enough in his final exams for them to be unworthy of mention either way.
No sooner had Chris left school than he received a letter from the Ministry of Defense, instructing him to report to his local recruiting office to sign up for a spell of National Service—a two-year compulsory period for all boys at the age of eighteen, when they had to serve in the armed forces. Chris’s only choice in the matter was between the Army, the Royal Navy or the Royal Air Force.
He selected the RAF, and even spent a fleeting moment wondering what it might be like to be a jet pilot. Once Chris had passed his medical and filled in all the necessary forms at the local recruiting office, the duty sergeant handed him a rail pass to somewhere called Mablethorpe; he was to report to the guardhouse by eight o’clock on the first of the month.
Chris spent the next twelve weeks being put through basic training, along with a hundred and twenty other raw recruits. He quickly discovered that only one applicant in a thousand was selected to be a pilot. Chris was not one in a thousand. At the end of the twelve weeks he was given the choice of working in the canteen, the officers’ mess, the quartermaster’s stores or flight operations. He opted for flight operations, and was allocated a job in the stores.
It was when he reported for duty the following Monday that he once again met up with Sue, or to be more accurate Corporal Sue Smart. She was inevitably standing at the head of the line; this time giving out job instructions. Chris didn’t immediately recognize her, dressed in her smart blue uniform with her hair almost hidden under a cap. In any case, he was admiring her shapely legs when she said, “Haskins, report to the quartermaster’s stores.” Chris raised his head. It was that voice he could never forget.
“Sue?” he ventured tentatively. Corporal Smart looked up from her clipboard and glared at the recruit who dared to address her by her first name. She recognized the face, but couldn’t place him.
“Chris Haskins,” he volunteered.
“Ah, yes, Haskins,” she said, and hesitated before adding, “report to Sergeant Travis in the stores, and he’ll brief you on your duties.”
“Yes, Corp,” Chris replied and quickly disappeared off in the direction of the quartermaster’s stores. As he walked away, Chris didn’t notice that Sue was taking a second look.
Chris didn’t come across Corporal Smart again until his first weekend leave. He spotted her sitting at the other end of a railway carriage on the journey back to Cleethorpes. He made no attempt to join her, even pretending not to see her. However, he did find himself looking up from time to time, admiring her slim figure—he didn’t remember her being as pretty as that.
When the train pulled into Cleethorpes station, Chris