Chapter 19
Nineteen
Early the next morning, I receive a text from Sam.
Sam
Fashion Guru, I’m afraid I have some bad news.
Min
***
Sam
Captain Yates has been sent to Bulford.
I sit up in my bed and try calling him. He picks up after two rings. “Good morning, Soldier Boy.”
“Hi, Min.” His voice is flatter than normal. I can hear the exhaustion in it.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“This news about your captain, you’ll have to help me out—I don’t fully understand what your text meant.”
“She’s been transferred off ceremonial duty and over to the light infantry, combat side of our regiment.”
“And that’s in Bulford?”
“Yeah, near Salisbury Plain in Wiltshire.”
My stomach lurches. “Does that mean you’re getting transferred too?”
“No. Not me. As far as I know, I’m not going anywhere.” I let out a sigh of relief, thankful Sam will be staying in London. “But it does mean we have a new commanding officer due to replace her.”
“Oh, that’s rotten. You were close to Captain Yates, weren’t you.”
“Yes, I was. She’s been my CO since I joined up. I knew she could be replaced at any time, but it’s still a shock to the system.”
“Are the other members of your squadron taking the news okay?”
“Uh-huh, we don’t have a choice.” Sam sighs. “We have a new captain and lieutenant due to arrive later today. Rumor has it that she’s been swapped with Captain Edwards as her replacement. He’s a by-the-book hard-liner.”
I can hear the edge in his voice. “Are you worried about having to serve under him?”
“No, I can handle whatever the army throw at me, but I’m afraid it means that our plans for this afternoon are going to have to be put on hold.”
“I understand. A new CO means you can’t exactly ask a favor out of him. You need to stay in his good graces.” My shoulders hunch. I’d hoped to be able to spend a little time with Sam this afternoon, but now I’ll have to settle for a video chat. “I’ll still be there at four.”
“I’ll look for you then, Fashion Guru.”
“Try not to work too hard. Or yell at too many tourists.”
That elicits a chuckle from him. “Don’t worry, I’ll only shout at them if they do something they’re not supposed to. Have a good day at work yourself.”
“Thanks, I will.”
After explaining my arrangement with Clarissa to Mr. G, he readily agrees to let me adjust my work schedule to two four-hour shifts, two days a week.
I stayed up late into the night driving myself mad, trying to figure out how I can make everything work.
At one point, I seriously considered quitting.
But in the end, the pros outweighed the cons.
Pros:
-Forced to shower and leave the flat
-Guaranteed human interaction
-Ability to swing by HG Parade en route to work
-Ability to vent to Mr. G about life
-Ability to ask Mr. G about soldiering stuff
-Won’t have to change the name of my employer on my work visa
-Pass to Buckingham Palace grounds
Cons:
-Takes away time I could be using to chill
-Must wake up before noon
-Interactions with tourists
-Required to take public transport on weekends into the busiest part of the city
-Pay is nothing to write home about
Today, Mr. G graciously allowed me to leave at half three.
Now, at three forty-five, I arrive at Horse Guards.
Entering the courtyard through the back, I’m caught in a deluge of tourist groups.
It must be spring break for some people.
I hear chatter in a variety of different languages, recognizing English, Japanese, Chinese, Korean, French, and some German words.
We shuffle along before exiting the tunnel to the shady, packed courtyard. The clock tower bell rings out. MOD officers shout instructions. “Get behind the double white line, please.”
Most groups fan out along the gap of space by the guard shop kiosk, but I know better.
“Excuse me?” I ask an officer wearing a face covering.
“Minerva, good to see you.” The officer pulls the black fabric down. I’m greeted by a familiar face.
“Hiya, Ian.” I grin.
“How are you getting on with things?”
“All right.”
“That’s crackers,” he says. “What can I do for you?”
“Are you allowing people to stand in the far corner opposite the stable guard?”
“Yes, we are. If you want a spot, you’d better grab it now. Once people see you, I’m sure they’ll cozy their way in next to you.”
I agree. “One more question. Have you seen Sam—I mean, Trooper Baker?”
“You’re in luck. He has the corner post.” Ian chuckles.
I thank him and power walk my way over to the footguard by the stable doors. There are a few tourists snapping photos of Sam. While I wait for them to clear out, I take in the brilliantly shined helmet and exceptional job he’s done on the boots.
To me, he looks like the best presented soldier here, but I’m a tad biased.
What worries me is when my eyes reach his face—it’s paler than normal.
He has a set of pronounced dark rings beneath his eyes.
Putting in the extra work is taking its physical toll on him.
I bet he hasn’t had a full night’s sleep in at least a week.
Finally, it’s my turn. Sam is alone. Pulling out my phone, I open the music app and let the song I recently discovered from the Broadway musical Suessical play.
Yes, I was highly amused to find an entire musical dedicated to the genius of Dr. Seuss.
A chorus of children’s voices begin to sing the song, “Green Eggs and Ham.”
He glances at me. The folds of his eyes crinkle and twitch, as if he’s saying, Really, Min? Stomping his foot, he pivots and marches up and down the span of his small chained-off area. It must be the only way he can contain himself from breaking out into a fit of laughter.
When Sam settles back in place a minute later, I say in a low tone, “I brought the chocolate-covered coffee beans I promised you, plus your favorite Aero mints, and a pack for you to share with your squadron. I’ll leave them with Ian before I leave.”
He lifts his sword to salute me. It’s a salute that’s unique to the cavalry and my way of knowing that he’s thankful and excited. What he doesn’t know is that I also added a pack of polishing cloths Mr. G recommended.
“I’ll be in the corner. You look good. Princess Alice Cup worthy. I’ll call you later tonight.” He raises his sword to me once more.
It’s about five to four by now. The two horses from the boxes out front are being brought into the yard. I quickly dart to my empty corner. A few tourists observe me for a moment, then rush over to where I am.
Ian positions himself near me and shouts, “Stay where you are. The inspection is about to begin.”
His words have the intended effect. No one else moves a muscle. A hush falls over the courtyard as the stable doors open. I’m glad I have room to move and am not standing elbow to elbow with the crowd on the far side of the yard.
“Reform the guard!” a gruff voice bellows. Out marches a line of five Blues. “Dressing. Eyes right.” Their heads turn toward me, and they shuffle so everyone is in perfect alignment with one another. “Eyes front. Lower swords. Stand at ease.”
More silence ensures. I hear coughing, the sound of cars driving past, and a police siren. The bell tower chimes four times.
“Carry swords!” the non-commissioned officer at the end of the line commands.
Just as the fourth chime rings out, an officer walks out. He salutes the NCO, chats with him a few moments, then spends about five to ten minutes reviewing his troopers. Glancing at the wall of tourists by the shop, I can see they’re eating all this ceremonial stuff up.
I laugh to myself. I doubt many of them know that this inspection is actually called the punishment parade.
As the story goes, one day in 1894, Queen Victoria’s carriage arrived at Horse Guards and found no cavalry soldiers on duty to greet her.
When she sent her military attaché to investigate the situation, he found that the soldiers on duty were too busy drinking and playing cards in their shirtsleeves to notice the queen had arrived.
As a punishment, she ordered that every day at four p.m. for one hundred years, the soldiers would be inspected.
While the hundred years have long since passed, the cavalry still carry on this tradition.
It marks the last public duties of the day.
According to Sam, they’re given a full inspection by a senior officer before they march out.
What the tourists see is purely for show.
I’m brought out of my thoughts by the captain’s voice reaching a level that sounds like he’s using a bullhorn. “Guards, single file, by the front, left wheel, quick march.”
I can see why this man has a reputation for being a by-the-book officer. His voice even inspires fear within me. I would not want to get on his bad side or be on the receiving end of a punishment from him.
The Blues on foot stomp in acknowledgement and march inside as a unit.
“Eyes front,” the NCO bellows.
The captain moves on to the two mounted soldiers, inspects them, then orders them inside too.
If it were summer, the guards would’ve been commanded to dismount.
But since it’s still winter order, the dismounting is done inside the stables out of the public eye.
The long fabric of their all-weather cloaks gets in the way.
I stay where I am and watch the captain retreat inside and the NCO march to Sam’s post. “Guard to the guardroom.” Sam salutes, shoots me a fleeting glance, and follows the orders to march inside.
I feel a hint of sadness at seeing him disappear behind the set of black slatted wooden doors. I have no idea when the next time I might get to see him is. Our lives are about to become busier than either of us ever imagined.
Stepping back against the wall, I take a few moments to let the crowd thin out. The MOD police officers all head for the stable area. Their shift is now over too.
“Ian,” I yell. “Can I ask you to do a favor for me?”
“Depends on what it is, Minerva.” He flashes me a cheeky grin.
“Can you ensure Trooper Baker gets this?” I hand over a brown bag from Tesco.
“I will. Did you bring anything for me too?”
“Since you asked, I did!” I press a second brown bag into his hands. “I hope you enjoy Cadbury eggs.”
He grins even wider. “I do. I haven’t had one in ages. Thanks, Minerva.”
My cheeks warm. “You’re welcome. Have a good night.”
I’d actually intended to indulge in the twelve-pack of eggs myself, but I can pick up another one. Ian is doing me a solid. He deserves them more than me.
“You too.”
Ian waves goodbye and slips into the restricted area. I’m one of the few people left in the yard. Through the gates, I see a few soldiers lingering, hanging up their swords on the wall, removing their cloaks, and exchanging their jackboots for more practical combat boots.
“Enjoy the chocolate, Sam I Am,” I whisper, then turn to make my leave.
Later that evening, Sam shoots me a text.
Sam
Won’t be able to video chat tonight. Captain Edwards has us doing some “teambuilding” exercises tonight. Another rain check?
Min
Of course. *Winking emoji*
Sam
Thank you for the goodies. You have no idea how much I appreciate you, Min. You’re a lifesaver.
Min
You’re welcome. Hope the chocolate and caffeine help you stay awake.
Sam
I’ll ring you tomorrow when I’m back at the barracks.
Min
Okay, it’ll have to be after six.
Sam
Seven okay?
Min
Perfect.
Sam
See you then!
Our Thursday call, however, never happens. Captain Edwards has Sam and his team out for some sort of physical fitness assessment.
On Friday, I’m tired after having a long day at the museum, but Sam and I are finally able to connect.
“Hiya, Sam.” I’m perched on the couch, sipping on a glass of white wine. “How was your day?”
“Hi, Min.” He’s in the equipment room at Knightsbridge.
From the camera angle, it looks like he has his kit spread out on a table behind him.
“The same as usual. I spent most of the day sweeping out stables and giving some stubborn horses a bath.” He glances up at the camera.
“You don’t mind if I multitask, do you?”
I do, actually, but what am I supposed to say, no? I want to spend five minutes of uninterrupted time talking with my man, but I can’t bring myself to say it aloud. It would sound selfish. We both have to compromise. This is only for the time being.
“No, do what you need to do.” He nods and returns his focus to polishing. “What are you working on?”
“Cross belt. There’s a lot of small brass bits and bobs I missed and lost some points on.”
“Oh, I didn’t think you’d be inspected on it yet since you guys are still in your winter uniform.” I take a sip of my wine.
“Captain Edwards held a surprise inspection of our summer order uniforms this morning. We’re supposed to actively be working on keeping both up to the required standard.”
“Ouch.” I wince. “A surprise inspection? How did that go?”
“I fared better than most. I’ve been working on prepping my equipment. Those who didn’t do so well are being reinspected tomorrow. They’re polishing at the tables behind me.”
He isn’t even alone? I wish he had warned me ahead of time.
He dips his cloth into a tin of polish. “How was your day?”
“Busy. We had a ton of schoolchildren at the museum today and a huge problem with our stock coming in two weeks early. Mr. G had to scramble to figure out where it was going to go. Our storage room is filled with construction equipment right now for the new water exhibit that’s going in.”
“That sounds like a mess.”
“It was.”
A few moments of awkward silence pass.
Finally, I ask, “When are you back at HG?”
“What’s today, Friday? I’ll be back next Friday. We have the weekend shift.”
I cross my legs and set my wine down. “Oh great, I’ll stop by and come and see you.”
“I’d like that.” His voice softens.
“Do you have any other days off coming up?”
“Not this week, but as soon as I do, you’ll be the first to know.”
He sets the cloth down and picks up the phone. “When do you start your new fashion assignment?”
“This coming week. I’m excited and terrified.”
“You’ll do great, Min.” Looking at his watch, he frowns. “Do you mind if we cut tonight a little short? I’m going to try and get to bed by eight.”
“Sure. No problem. If you, uh . . . can’t sleep, I’ll be here.” I keep my face neutral, but my voice cracks.
“I don’t think I’ll have any trouble falling asleep, but I appreciate the offer.”
“I hope you have a good night, Sam. Same time tomorrow?”
“If that works for you,” he says.
“Awesome, it’s a date.”
“Good night, Min.”
“Good night.”
The call drops and disappointment floods my body. I’ve waited all day to see him. We only had seven minutes together and they weren’t even private. I suppose seven minutes is better than none. It’s only three more weeks until the Princess Alice Cup. I can handle this. I hope.