S is for Spanking. Lucy Salisbury
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well muscled, one short and white, one tall and black. Mr Blue was busy with his clipboard and didn’t notice me as I took my place in the back row, but I knew it was only a matter of time, and not long at that, as he’d begun to call out our names.
‘Ackland, Wendy?’
The red-haired girl raised her hand and Mr Blue made a mark on his clipboard.
‘Atkinson, Stacey?’
‘Sir … I mean, yes, I’m here.’
‘Sir will do nicely, or Mr Parker. That goes for the rest of you too. Respect is a vital part of leadership, and you will show me respect. Maybe you’ll earn mine, maybe not. OK, Graham Boothe?’
He carried on through the alphabet while I did my best to hide behind Paul, who was considerably wider than me and taller too. I knew it was hopeless, but that didn’t stop me wanting to postpone my fate. Then he reached the Fs.
‘Fisher, Juliette?’
I let out a gasp, completely unintentional and the tiniest fraction of a second before I realised that there was no reason at all to think it would be my Juliette Fisher, but it was already too late. Mr Blue, or rather Mr Parker, had moved a step aside to see who he thought had answered.
‘Fisher, Juliette?’
He was looking right at me and could hardly fail to realise who I was. I managed a sheepish smile in response to his brief glare of annoyance, but he quickly mastered himself.
‘Are you Juliette Fisher?’
‘No. Sorry.’
He shook his head.
‘There’s always one. Haynes, Sam?’
I was blushing hot as he moved on. Evidently Juliette Fisher wasn’t there, and nor were two others. Parker had obviously introduced everybody to the camp while outside, as he launched straight into a sort of pep talk.
‘Three missing. They go down as late. That’s how we do things here. You’re late, you lose. We take no prisoners and we make no exceptions. Everybody is equal, and that means equal. If you girls can’t keep up, tough. If you’re too weak, or too fat, or too useless to make the grade, tough. We want winners, not whingers. What do we want?’
Nearly everybody echoed his remark, even Stacey, but not me, while Paul seemed to have found something more interesting outside the window, possibly a cloud. Beforehand he’d never been more than a vague shape around the building, but I couldn’t help feeling sympathy, as of the people I knew there he alone seemed to resent the place. Some were even standing with legs braced apart and their hands clasped behind their back, as if they really were on parade, including Chad, Daniel, and Stacey, although she at least had the decency to look embarrassed and relax a little when I caught her eye. Parker turned to a new page on his clipboard and carried on.
‘Okey dokey, let’s get things together. First off, I want all mobile phones, laptops and any other gadgetry you have with you handed in, and that means now. I know you’re busy people, but I want you focused and I want you relying on yourselves, not on technology. My colleagues here are Mr Straw and Sergeant Reynolds, who will collect everything in, and I do mean everything.’
The two assistants moved forward as he carried on.
‘Second, this is a team exercise, so we form teams. Teams, not individuals, that’s what matters, and that’s why each of you is going to be given a letter. That’s your letter and your name for the duration. It’s what I’ll call you by and it’s how you’ll appear on the rosters and on the results boards, so learn it. Use your ordinary name and you get marked down. Team leaders will be A, B, C and D, each one leading a team of the same name. We put the girls together, but otherwise we go in reverse order of salary. That’s reverse order, which ought to put the bigheads in their place. I have your CVs and I have your individual company reports, so let’s see then …’
There was a stir in the ranks, some looking unhappy, others pleased, a few of the real army types holding their position without showing emotion. I for one was grateful, sure that my good position would save me from the job of team leader for the girls. Parker seemed to be having a little difficulty working things out, but finally began once more.
‘OK then, tail end Charlie, bottom of the heap is … O, Lucy Salisbury.’
Every single person in the room turned to look at me. I found myself responding with an embarrassed smile, and wondering if I really did receive the highest salary of all, or if Parker knew the implications of calling a girl O and had picked me out on purpose. It seemed likely, especially as several of the men were considerably older than me, and I found my sense of resentment flaring up, as well as fear. I told myself not to be silly, and that even if he had deliberately named me after a heroine notorious for accepting sexual indignities it didn’t mean he could treat me that way, but that didn’t stop me feeling on edge.
Stacey was G and Wendy Ackland was E, which left the absent Juliette Fisher as A and the women’s team leader. I’d already known we’d be in the same hut, and once Parker had finished his talk we gathered outside, talking formally until safely out of hearing, when Stacey spoke out.
‘I’m from an army family, but I’m not putting up with this pseudo-military bullshit. I’m Stacey, and as far as I’m concerned you’re Lucy and Wendy, at least when nobody else is listening.’
Wendy and I were quick to agree, although I was more concerned with our team leader, and hoping she’d turn out to be small and meek. Even having to take orders from somebody called Juliette Fisher was going to be difficult for me, at least at first, because just to hear the name had brought back all my old feelings with a vengeance. If it really was her, I was in trouble, no matter how much she’d changed or how she felt, because deep down I was still in love with her.
We were in Hut Eight, the furthest from Assembly and quite a way from the three male huts. It was much like the abandoned one I’d investigated, but carpeted, with four beds to either side, each with its own chair, along with two huge chests of drawers and a single, ancient convection heater. That was it, and Wendy immediately voiced my own misgivings.
‘Where’s the bathroom? Don’t tell me we have to go outside to use the loo?’
She’d already thrown her things down on the nearest bed and I chose the one opposite as Stacey answered her.
‘There’s a ladies’ shower block. The huts don’t have any plumbing.’
‘Oh God. Why did I let myself get talked into this?’
I was asking myself the same thing, and quietly cursing Mr Scott as I unpacked and made my area as homely as I could. Stacey had taken the bed next to mine, while Wendy seemed very easy going, making me wonder if it would be possible to get away with at least playful intimacy. There was a vulnerability to Wendy, with her fragile build and pale, freckled skin, which I was sure would appeal to Stacey, while with the door locked and the curtains across the windows we’d be in a little world of our own, opening up all sorts of intriguing possibilities. Stacey had other concerns.
‘I don’t know about you two, but I am not spending two weeks without a drink, especially cooped up here. They want it military, so they can have it military. Who’s for Operation Merlot?’
As she spoke she’d spread out a map on the floor. I crowded close, as did Wendy, tummy down with her shoes off and her legs kicked up. We’d soon located our own position, and the three nearest pubs, which included The Plough. Stacey began to explain her strategy, first telling Wendy about the incident with Parker the night before, then putting her finger on the map where it showed a village in a valley beyond the camp.
‘It’s no good just telling him to get stuffed and walking out, as it will go on our reports, so we have to be sneaky. We know Mr Parker likes a drink too, so the safest thing to do is for two of us to go and fetch what we need while the third stays here to make excuses for the others. This is Venncott, which is about six miles by road but less than two as the crow flies, so we’re not likely to be recognised. As long as we