Shady Places

I will not pretend,
I will not put on a smile,
I will not say, ‘I’m alright,’ for you,
When all I wanted was to be good.

– Martha Wainwright

Alison dropped Christian at Battalion HQ just before 7pm on Friday night. He arranged for her to pick him up again after he called her on Sunday afternoon. They said their goodbyes, and he walked into the Officer’s Mess, still thinking about all that had happened in the last 24 hours.

But there were yet more surprises in store for Christian that weekend. The first person he bumped into was his old friend Bruce Hall from his officer training days. Christian had spent two years’ training with Bruce, and he was part of his crew of friends who led most of the wild behaviour over that journey. Bruce had been an Armour Corps officer but had now transferred to Infantry when he moved with his wife to the town of Young, an hour to the south. Christian was glad to see Bruce again, and they were still catching up about old times when the other officers appeared, having travelled in from all over the state. It shouldn’t have surprised Christian, but he had to do a double take when, of all the people in the world that could have been there that night, in walked Scott Highman.

The old battalion had some unique characteristics, the most obvious of which was that they only expected the soldiers to do two-week camps and not parade every Tuesday like the rest of the reserve. That was because it allowed remotely located soldiers to still train, even if they could not make it to a depot every week. When the battalion moved to Bathurst, it became a hybrid, having regular and special conditions sub-units. Scott was in one of the regular companies, as was Bruce, while they posted Christian to the special conditions one.

While he probably knew that Scott was in the Battalion, Christian had completely forgotten since I’d only met him once several months ago in Queensland. Christian got up to say hello to Scott, but by the reception he got, Scott was not pleased to see him.

“What’s his problem?” Bruce asked.

“Buy me a beer and I’ll tell you,” Christian replied.

Christian then filled Bruce in on all the details of what happened at the Queensland camp and also updated him on the fact that Beth had dumped him just days before he met Alison. Not that he had done anything wrong when he had met her. Thanks to Beth, he had been single, and Alison had been the one who pursued him after all. But being a loyal friend, Bruce took Christian’s side, nonetheless.

Unfortunately, for the rest of that weekend, Scott tried to be as unpleasant as possible, which was annoying, but Bruce and Christian had too much catching up to do, so they mostly ignored him. However, on Saturday night, everyone had to socialise in the Officer’s Mess and Scott saw that as an opportunity to score some points at Christian’s expense.

He started by puffing out his chest and pushing past Christian whenever he could, which didn’t earn him any friends. Then, to as many people who could hear, he insinuated Christian had back stabbed him while they were in Queensland together. Christian told Scott didn’t know what he was talking about, but then Bruce, sensing a bit of fun, said that Scott should spell out what he meant rather than making vague assertions.

Scott then told the increasing number of interested listeners that Christian had “cock-blocked” him while they were at LWC. Christian vehemently denied it, as it was factually untrue.

“And,” Scott said, hoping to trash Christian’s reputation entirely, “you then struck out (with Alison)” thus doubling the disgrace. Again, Christian denied it because in order to cock block Scott and strike out, Christian would have had to first to hit on Alison, which he hadn’t. 

“Let him get this straight, Scott. You allege that a Private soldier that you commanded, had sole access to, and that you spent two weeks wooing got distracted enough by the guy who spent five minutes talking to her in the cargo hold of an in-flight C-130 on the last day of the camp and that I subsequently put the hard word on her and that she then rejected me?”

“Yes.”

“I deny both charges. First, I deny ‘cock blocking’ you. I did not speak to the soldier in question until I stepped on that plane, which was only four hours before she left to return with her unit to Randwick. Whereas, you had two entire weeks in her direct chain of command as her Platoon Commander and saw her every day. You also had ample time during a mess function, which I was absent from, where she, by your own admission, gave you a distinct feeling of her interest in you by her ‘positive body language (toward you)’. If that was indeed the reality, then you had further time to plead your case to her when we got back to Penrith in the second mess function where you got to socialise with all and sundry while I served the soldiers from behind the bar.

“I also deny hitting on her and subsequently being shot down. My only conversations with her were first on that C-130 in front of the entire company. And second, minutes before she left, when I wished her luck in her chosen profession. If you have evidence of her alleged rebuttal, then you should present it or withdraw the charge.

“And if you wish to challenge any of what I just told you, then you can call her up and ask her. I know that you have her number.”

With that, the whole assembly turned as one in Scott’s direction, waiting to see what he said in reply. He, of course, had nothing, so he kept mum. Thankfully for Christian, Scott had forgotten to bring up what happened in the touch football match, as that would have been hard to deny.

By Sunday morning, Christian learnt he could leave for home at 12pm and the bus that would take Scott and the others home would also leave at about that time. Christian called Alison and let her know what time he would be free, but also to tell her what had happened, and that Scott was there and in a foul mood. Alison became angry learning of his continued presupposed claim on her, but Christian said that she could avoid Scott if she came to the depot after Scott had left.

Alison had been excited when Christian called. She couldn’t believe how happy she was to hear him again and how much she’d missed him, even after only a couple of days. But when she learnt what Scott had been saying, she was furious.

The first time Alison learnt about Scott’s boast about her, she let it slide because she thought it was a stupid off hand remark. She expected that in her absence that he would forget that he’d ever said it. But to learn that, months later, he was claiming victimhood meant that in his warped little mind; he had some claim on her. And even though Christian warned her off seeing him, Alison’s blood was boiling and she was eager for a showdown. This Second Lieutenant was about to find out that of all the people in the world that she might choose, he was a distant last. Not only that, but he was also about to see what he would never have.

So, when 11:50am rolled around and the bus prepared to leave, Christian found himself in the car park talking to Bruce. One of the other officers inquired after Christian’s transport arrangements, and he told them he was fine as he was staying in Bathurst with a friend.

As everyone else was piling onto the Sydney bus, Christian’s badly muffled BWM roared up the street, into the depot, and pulled up next to Bruce and him. Alison popped out wearing the shortest dress she owned. It only took Christian a second to work out her game. He introduced her to Bruce who, unusually for him, was quite polite.

Alison’s dramatic appearance had her desired effect because the entire assembly turned toward her and collectively dropped their jaws to the ground. Scott was stunned into silence at her seemingly magical, out of nowhere, appearance in Bathurst. But he recovered and walked over and called Christian a liar loud enough for everyone to hear.

“2Lt. Highman,” Alison said in an equally loud voice, “no one cock blocked you because you were never in the race. And second, I hit on Christian, not the other way around. Unlike you, he is a complete gentleman.”

Bruce was in raptures at this point and the group were trying not to look, but could not bring themselves to turn away for fear of missing on how this all played out.

Scott tried to salvage some vestige of pride out of the situation, played the only card he had left. “Alison, please tell me you are not actually with him?”

Alison wasn’t thinking straight because Scott had made her so angry. Why couldn’t Scott have just shut up? If he’d just left it alone, no one would have known about his boast, but he was so full of himself he couldn’t understand that she had rejected him. And now she had to crush him.

It was a desperate plea that sounded weak and pathetic. Alison’s blood was up, and she went straight for his jugular. Loud enough so that everyone hear she retorted, “Well, in about ten minutes I’m going to let him fuck me in the arse, so you figure it out!”

At that, Bruce totally lost his bottle while the others either tried not to laugh or were still processing what they had heard. Christian tried to leave while they were all still in shock, saying, “Gentlemen, Bruce… Scott.”

Christian turned toward her car when Scott said feebly, “But, but you said that he was a gentleman…”

“Oh Scott,” she said, “He ain’t that gentle!”