Free Soldiers' Wives by Fiona; Field Page A

impressed. ‘Oh my God, Mike told me we had a superstar joining our company. He’s the guy who nearly made the Olympics, no?’
    Maddy had long since discovered that wives in army circles seemed to be defined by their husband’s status and rank and, although it still rankled, she’d learned to accept that her previous existence as a biochemist and an Oxford graduate counted for nought. She was also faintly amused to hear Susie use the phrase ‘our company’. Since when had Mike Collins shared command of B Company with his wife, she wondered? Oh well, thought Maddy, she’d better try and be nice to her while Caro was off getting them both a cup of coffee. She didn’t know much about the army, but she did know that pissing off her husband’s boss’s wife was probably not a good thing.
    â€˜You’ll have to join the babysitting circle,’ said Susie.
    â€˜Babysitting circle?’ Maddy put Nathan and his chair on a nearby coffee table and flexed her arm to relieve the stiffness. Nate was no lightweight.
    â€˜Just about every married patch has one – the mums all get tokens for twelve hours’ free babysitting from the other mums. We pay each other for babysitting in tokens – double tokens after midnight – and earn them back by repaying the favour. Easy, cheap and a fab way of getting to know other mums with kids. You don’t have to join if you don’t want to,’ added Susie, although her tone of voice seemed to imply that this wasn’t really an option.
    â€˜It sounds great,’ said Maddy hastily, hoping she sounded sufficiently enthusiastic, because she couldn’t envisage ever again having the energy for an evening out with Seb. If she watched the news at ten she was staying up late.
    â€˜We’ve got a meeting at my place shortly. I’ll pop the details through your door. You can get to meet the other mums, see who you’d like to entrust with Nate. Make sure you come along.’
    Maddy resisted the temptation to snap a salute and say ‘yes, ma’am’. It really wasn’t an invitation but an order.
    â€˜And I’ll come round to see you soon – help you get settled in, answer any questions, sort you out with some committees you might want to join, that sort of thing.’
    Committees… oh dear God, as if she didn’t have enough on her plate with a colicky baby, a recent house move and Seb’s rowing training.
    â€˜Anyway,’ said Susie, ‘I mustn’t monopolise you.’ And she drifted off. Maddy had the feeling she’d escaped because there was someone else more interesting or more worthy of Susie’s attention.
    Caro returned with their coffees. ‘Can I assume that Susie’s sorted you out with babysitting?’
    Maddy nodded. She was still feeling shell-shocked. ‘That’s one way of putting it,’ she murmured.
    â€˜Excellent. But you can always ask me, if you need to have an hour or so to yourself. I mean it,’ she added. ‘I love babies, so it would be a real pleasure.’
    Maddy took a sip of her coffee. ‘Caro, promise me that, if you see me turning into some clone of Susie, you’ll shoot me.’
    Caro laughed. ‘She’s not that bad.’
    Maddy raised her eyebrows. ‘No?’ She recounted her conversation. ‘Honestly, what with her and Mrs N, I’ve got this feeling there’s some sort of operation they do on wives once their husbands get to a certain rank, to insert a set of khaki genes into them. Don’t these women want to do anything except advance their husbands? I’ve heard of career wives, but this is ridiculous.’
    Caro nearly choked on her coffee. She looked about her. ‘I see your point. It’s not universal though.’
    â€˜No?’
    â€˜Honestly. I’m modelling myself on a woman I met in Tidworth when we had a posting there. She came to my door when