Small Wars by Sadie Jones Read Free Book Online

the tiles, slipping on the wooden edges that were worn thin.
    There was a knock on the door.
    ‘Who could that be?’ said Clara. She sensed Adile behind her. ‘It’s all right, Adile,’ she said, not expecting an answer. ‘I’ll go.’
    The knock came again.
    ‘We’re coming!’ said Clara.
    They reached the door.
    ‘Who is it?’
    ‘Evelyn Burroughs!’ came the operatic answer.
    Clara opened the door. Mrs Burroughs, big and beaming, briefly transformed all of Cyprus to England.
    ‘Hello,’ said Clara.
    ‘Not having a telephone puts one right back in the nineteenth century,’ said Mrs Burroughs. ‘Not that I would remember, I hasten to add!’
    She laughed and Clara smiled at her. ‘Come in. Look, girls, it’s Mrs Burroughs.’
    ‘Silly girl, call me Evelyn.’
    ‘Evelyn. Come in.’
    Evelyn came into the house, which seemed to shrink around her. The children stared up. ‘How’s the Turkish girl doing?’
    ‘She’s fine. Very helpful.’
    ‘So you’re all right?’
    ‘Yes, of course,’ said Clara, firmly. ‘Absolutely fine.’
    ‘I must say you’ve been an awfully good sport about it. I would’ve kicked up a hell of a fuss. Your husband must be proud. It makes all the difference in the world to have a wife who doesn’t make things harder, don’t you think?’
    ‘I’m sure.’
    ‘Still, it’s a rotten show and I’ve been doing my damnedest to get you a house up at Epi and I may have succeeded.’
    ‘A house would be nice.’
    ‘Yes, it’s no good here. I’ve brought a car. I’ve one or two things to get and then shall we go up to the base?’
    Clara felt gratitude verging on the adoring. ‘I’d like that,’ she said.
    ‘We just need to pop by Costa’s or whatever it’s called on Anexartisias Street – and then we can head off. All right?’
    ‘Lovely. I’ll get our coats.’
    ‘There’s no need. Have you seen the sun’s out?’ said Evelyn, and opened the door wide to the street where bright light was striking the first floors of the houses opposite.

    Evelyn had organised everything. She had invited three more officers’ wives and lunch was very busy and noisy. There were other children, too, though none so small as the twins, and they were all given lunch in the kitchen. The women competed to impress Clara with their welcome and were eager to show her that Cyprus wasn’t such a bad posting.
    ‘What about a walk on the beach? It’ll remind you of Cornwall in summer…’
    So, after lunch they left the children and went down to the beach, by way of the stables, where shiny horses looked over their stable doors at them as they went by and Clara touched their soft noses carefully.
    The beach was wide and sandy and a shallow sea broke white-topped waves along it in a homely rhythm. Clara felt her cheeks getting pink as they walked. She imagined kissing Hal and telling him about her day.
    When they got back up to the Burroughses’ bungalow, Captain Hayes was there on behalf of the housing officer. ‘We’ve a couple of houses for Mrs Treherne to take a look at. Shall we go along now?’
    The house Clara chose out of the two offered her was brand new, the still-damp plaster had just been painted. It was a short walk from Evelyn’s and next door to Deirdre and Mark Innes. They could drive or walk to the officers’ mess. The plot was called Lionheart, a half-built miniature suburb, with front gardens but no fences and a brand-new road through it.

    The night before they moved Clara and Hal lay in the tilting bed of the Limassol house for the last time and Clara allowed herself to feel how very much she hated it.
    ‘I’m glad we’ll have you safe and sound at Episkopi,’ said Hal, holding her close to him, both arms around her. ‘I might be away next week, and I would have hated to leave you here.’
    Clara allowed only the smallest of pauses. ‘How long will you be away for?’ she said.
    ‘I don’t know yet.’
    ‘Proper fighting?’
    Hal laughed.
    Clara