Scorpion Sunset by Catrin Collier Read Free Book Online Page A

idea what kind of accommodation we can expect? I’ve never been a prisoner of war before.’
    â€˜None of us have. The brigadier said there was talk of housing the officers in a hotel, but I’m guessing that even if there is a hotel, the rooms won’t be up to Ritz standard, or even that of a doss house. But whatever they are they’ll be better than the accommodation the ranks will be given and that’s where I’m headed. I cleared it with the brigadier last night. The Turks are allowing one officer to remain with every regiment. I’m staying with the Dorsets.’
    â€˜The men will be put to work?’
    â€˜They will.’
    Bowditch was feeling too demoralised to ask what work Crabbe thought the men would be forced to carry out. He studied the horizon. ‘Dawn is breaking.’ He stared at the wharf as the square outlines of warehouses on the bank emerged from the night shadows. ‘Baghdad doesn’t look much of a place, does it, sir?’
    â€˜If there is anywhere that looks like much of a place in this bloody country, I haven’t seen it.’ Sensing Bowditch’s despair Crabbe gripped his shoulder. ‘All we can do is make the best of it, boy, and remember we’re not as badly off as some. It’s the poor beggars marching behind us I feel sorry for.’
    â€˜You’re thinking of Major Mason, sir.’
    â€˜He won’t sleep, eat, or rest while there’s a man who needs care, and when a man is past saving he won’t leave him unburied. If he hasn’t the strength to pick up a shovel, he’ll scrape out a grave with his bare hands.’
    â€˜He has Sergeant Greening and his orderlies to help him, sir,’ Bowditch reminded.
    â€˜And hundreds of sick and dying men who are being force-marched. Much as I don’t want to spend any time here, I’d like to see him before we move off if only to reassure myself that he’s made it this far.’
    â€˜Odd isn’t it, sir?’
    â€˜What?’ Crabbe asked.
    â€˜How close we’ve become since we’ve surrendered. While we were under siege I saw men fight over a tin of bully beef, now …’
    â€˜We have no tins of bully beef to fight over and the Turks’ black biscuits don’t warrant expending any energy.’ Ignoring his own warning about rationing cigarettes Crabbe reached into his pocket.
    â€˜That mention of bully beef has made me hungry. I’ll go and forage. You never know, the Turks might have come up with something for breakfast.’
    â€˜I’ll say this much for you, Bowditch, you’re an incorrigible optimist.’
    Crabbe watched the lieutenant pick his way back over the sleeping men carpeting the deck and resumed the calculations he’d been making as to how much longer the war was going to last.

Chapter Four
    The desert south of Baghdad
    May 1916
    John was on a ship. The sky was blue, the breeze fresh. He was surrounded by light. It danced and shimmered, clear, beautiful, and blinding above and around him. Below the sea glistened with reflected sunbeams that tipped the surface of the waves with winking gold and silver flashes. The wind carried the taste of fresh salt air. The vessel moved out from the land, gliding slow and stately past the anchored boats in the harbour.
    A woman stood next to him, a child in her arms. She looked ahead towards the horizon. A shawl covered her hair. He felt an overwhelming love for her and the child. He lifted his arm intending to embrace her …
    He woke with a jerk. Momentarily disorientated, it was a few seconds before he realised he’d been sunk deep in a recurring, disturbingly realistic dream that had first surfaced in Kut.
    He opened his eyes, rubbed the desert grit from them, and blinked. He was encased in darkness. There was no salt breeze. The air was as cold as only desert air can be in the hour before dawn. A few sticks smouldered weakly at his feet, barely