Music to My Ears: Steve’S Squaddies, Book 3

By Neville Krasner

Liverpudlian Tommy Jacksons life has its ups and downs. He is being rehabilitated in Headley Court after losing a leg in Afghanistan and shares his hospital room with double amputee Jimbo and blind Cammy, all injured in combat. Tommy was recently married and has a baby daughter, but he is soon to be discharged from the Rifles and left to find his own way in life. He has no job to go to, and his young family is in danger of outstaying their welcome at his in-laws small house.

Steve Chalmers is an ex-marine, invalided out of the service after serious injuries to his leg. His club, Steves Squaddies, of which Tommy was a founding member, takes on difficult youngsters to teach them self-defense, on condition that they make some contribution to the local community. Murphy, thug leader of the eponymous Pipe Band because of their use of copper pipes to instill fear in the population of Wavertree, is Steves sworn enemy and has promised to destroy the club and all it stands for. Will Murphy succeed in disrupting Steves newfound family life and his visionary work with the youngsters he mentors?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Jan 3, 2018
• ISBN: 9781546285007

Neville Krasner

The author is a retired Physician and Gastrenterologist born and bred in Glasgow but now living with his wife in Liverpool. An interest in the medical application of lasers led him to the Department of Engineering at the University of Liverpool where he became a Visiting Professor.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Tommy held his nose as he deposited the stinking nappy in the container. There were nappies everywhere, a can of Johnson’s baby powder and a small water-filled plastic bath to clean the baby before he dried and clothed her. Francis let him get on with it, but smiled in approval.

Tommy had just married his long-time sweetheart, Frances, and had been staying with her parents for a week. The resulting clutter was causing tension particularly between Tommy and his father-in-law, Sam. It had been a close call, but the marriage ceremony had been completed just before their baby arrived. If he was honest, he would be glad to have a night’s sleep. Jasmine had kept him awake at night for most of the last few days. He had just been granted an extra day’s leave to allow him to attend the cremation of the mother of his mentor, Steve. The service was to take place at the Springwood Crematorium in Allerton, in south Liverpool.

Private Tommy Jackson of the Rifles Regiment, a battalion of which was based in Edinburgh, was due to report to his barracks on Tuesday after the funeral. He revelled in the time spent with his new wife and in behaving as a proper father to his lovely little daughter. He had been allowed a week’s leave for and after the wedding, but he knew his debriefing at the Redford Barracks was not going to be easy. After an initial period of training he had been deployed to Helmand Province in Afghanistan along with his best friend Jaz. As he dried the baby he turned to Frances.

I know I’m pushing my luck but I’m glad they’re letting me go to the funeral. It gives me a day with you and Jasmine.

She frowned. Maybe you’re pushing your luck with Dad as well. The two of you just about tolerate each other, but it’s a close thing. Just as well Mum keeps the peace. We have to get a place of our own.

Look, the Army will find us accommodation in Edinburgh. It’ll be great up there. You’ll soon make friends with the other wives.

Tommy, I’m not leaving Liverpool and that’s flat. If you want to stay way up north, you’re on your own. Anyway, I want you out of that lot. There’s no way I’m going to let you carry a gun again. She glared at him, expression fixed. I need you here if we’re going to find somewhere to live, but you’ll be back to Headley once they’ve finished with you in Edinburgh." Headley Court in Surrey was the rehabilitation hospital for members of the armed forces who had lost one or more limbs in defence of their country.

He took a deep breath. Were they about to have their first fight? Okay, maybe they wouldn’t want him in the front line again, but the Army was his first proper job, and he was sure they’d give him something useful to do.

I think I’ll take the baby out? He had to defuse the situation before it got out of hand.

She smiled at last. You haven’t done that on your own yet. I don’t know if I can trust you not to fall. You need more practice with that new leg. Tommy sighed. Sure, he wasn’t yet all that steady on his prosthesis, but holding on to the pram would help him, and he needed some fresh air.

Okay, Rifle, I’ll come with you. I need something from ASDA. I can hold your stick until you need it. Rifle. That was what Jimbo called him, and she had taken to using it when there was any hint of a strain between them. Jimbo was a fellow amputee at Headley, and they had formed a firm friendship. Tommy’s back straightened. He was going to be the proud father taking his little daughter out. He saw Frances grinning and leaned over to kiss her. Life was good. Knowing his previous tendency to move from one disaster to another, he wondered how long his good fortune could last.

It looks a bit blowy out there, she said. I’ll need to wrap up Jasmine and get a coat on. You’ll need one yourself..

It was alright in the Army, thought Tommy, but he wasn’t too happy about having to take instructions, even if it was from Frances. He shrugged. No point in looking for trouble.

Once out, Tommy welcomed the stiff autumn breeze. He had been cooped up in the house for too long and needed to blow the cobwebs away. Stopping to button his coat up to his neck he flashed back to his time in Helmand Province

Christ, it was nothing like this. It had been fiery hot in summer and bloody cold at night or freezing in the winter. It was a dusty, primitive place like nothing you’d get in Liverpool. Wouldn’t want to live there but there was a real buzz about doing something worthwhile. We thought we were untouchable, then bang, I woke in a field hospital in Camp Bastion minus a leg and Jaz had gone. It was all my fault. I’d persuaded the guy to join up with me. God, I’ll never be able to forget that.

He shuddered briefly at the memory. But he was a lucky guy. His girl had stood by him and both sets of parents had been very supportive. Tommy chest expanded, his back was ramrod straight as he pushes the pram and his expression said ‘look at me.’ When he stumbled a couple of times, Frances grabbed his arm with one hand and the little pram with the other. She was about to tell Tommy that she wanted to take over.

Let me try and take her to the bottom of the road, he said, and you can take her across at the lights.

She pursed her lips in frustration, but reluctantly gave in.

Like it or not, Rifle, the next time you stagger, I’m going to take over.

He shuffled his shoulders in an attempt at a swagger, but his face was set in grim determination to finish the job. The rest of his excursion to the main road was uneventful, and with a sigh of relief he handed over the pram to Frances and happily took hold of his walking stick.

ASDA was a hive of activity, the packed shelves offering a huge range of items to the discerning or others who were glad to pick the first thing they needed without looking for the best price. Frances had told him to stay near the door. She would only be a few minutes. One of the staff found him a chair. He was glad to be able to sit down and he gently rocked the pram to keep the baby asleep. Elderly ladies peeked in to see Jasmine and Tommy glowed with pride at the comments: What a lovely baby, Does she sleep well at night? All the attention increased his feeling of self-importance. Mothers with young children merely gave him a knowing smile.

Shopping completed, the couple crossed back over the road, Tommy walking more confidently with his stick after the rest. As they walked up the road, he saw in the distance a group of young men walking towards him. He frowned when he recognised who they were, gray jeans and black hoodies in their gang uniform. At one time, they were nothing he and his fellow club members couldn’t handle, but what could a cripple be able to do against them? He held his stick more tightly.

Get over to the other side of the road, girl. Here comes trouble.

CHAPTER 2

The sky was a mournful grey and the fine drizzle further dampened Steve’s mood. Rev. Masters had completed the service at the Springwood Crematorium in Allerton and everyone filed out of the chapel to stand under the awning, out of the rain. Hands had been shaken and after a few words, the mourners drifted off. Rosy and the twins stood a pace back to leave Steve with his thoughts and his memories of his mother. Charlotte Chalmers, or Auntie Charlie, as Carrie and Filly, the twins, loved to call her, had been a solid rock in his life, and now she was gone. He was thirty-seven, an ex-marine and she had always been there for him. It was still difficult to let her go. Rosy, his girlfriend, stepped forward to hold his hand.

Steve, we’d better get to the pub for the send-off. Everything’s laid out at The Brook House and they’ve given us a barman. Our friends will all be waiting.

Steve blinked. I was in another world there. She never complained, you know. I was born in Glasgow. My Pa got killed in the docks there and Ma brought us to Liverpool where we had some relatives. They’re all gone now. Whenever he was being serious, the Scot’s brogue surfaced, although he had been in Liverpool for nearly thirty years. She fed and clothed me and had to work every minute of the day to make ends meet. He shook his head in memory. She had to put up with my grim moods when I got injured in Iraq and afterwards when I was discharged. Rosy listened patiently, then gently pulled him away and towards the limo that was waiting for them. Thank God I’ve got you and the girls. He stopped and looked into her dark eyes. I’d be in Hell without the three of you.

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For a couple of years after he had been invalided out of the Marines, Steve Chalmers had lost his way. The Marines were all he knew and he was very good at his job. If he couldn’t be in the front line, he had to get out. He had no motivation other than to keep himself as physically fit as his injured leg would allow. After extensive surgery, the leg, slightly shortened, caused him to limp. Someone had told him you could get built-up shoes under the NHS. A visit to Fazakerley Hospital resulted in the provision of bespoke shoes and trainers. He was now able to walk and run with only the hint of a limp and took full part in the self-defence training of his club members. The limo drew up at the Brook House.

You know, Rosy. I can’t even remember getting here. My mind’s a blank. All I can say is thank God you and the girls have turned me around and that The Squaddies give me extra purpose. Steve’s Squaddies was a club for troubled teenagers. He had formed it to try and get them back on the rails and make a useful contribution to society. Neighbours, and Tommy’s and Frances’ families had all gathered at the pub as well as the original members of The Squaddies and all the Trustees. Colonel Hugh Fraser, patron of the club and Steve’s mentor came up to him to offer condolences, but also to try and convert him to positive thinking.

She was a grand lady Steve. One of the old school. She just got on with it. You’ll have fond memories. He looked at Rosy and smiled. You’re a lucky man to have a beautiful lady and two lovely youngsters to build your life around." Even in her black mourning dress, Rosy was striking. Her Afro hairstyle framed a perfectly formed face with its smooth olive complexion. Her eyes were jet black but warmth shone out of them. The twins were inseparable and showed early signs of being as attractive as their mother. They were of mixed race, the offspring of a disastrous marriage to a white Liverpudlian, Colm O’Brien. As soon as the twins were born he disappeared. He surfaced again when Steve came into Rosy’s life and Steve rescued her when the violent and jealous husband tried to stab her. The divorce was fast-tracked and Steve now lived with the three of them. The girls loved him as a surrogate father. Although he was desperate to marry Rosy, she would not commit herself. The death of his mother made Steve all the more anxious to have the security of their relationship on a formal basis.

At The Brook House, Steve was surprised to see so many people.

Where have they all come from? I didn’t know Ma had so many friends. I don’t know half of them.

Tommy walked over to him. Frances is sorry she couldn’t come. Her Mum and Dad are here so there was no-one to look after the baby. I know it’s not the right time to tell you so I’ll see you later about it. I had another run-in with Murphy. He walked away leaving Steve frowning. What a time for that bastard to reappear.

Murphy had been a rival gang leader to Tommy, a thug of the first order, and violent with it. He had beaten up the odd harmless youngster for the fun of it. Mugging and vandalism were part of his regular activities, but when he had tried to disrupt the Squaddies in the early days, Tommy made quick work of him putting into use Steve’s self-defence teaching. Steve stood, speechless, and well-meaning friends clustered round thinking he had been shaken by the funeral. Well, there would be time for that later.

I’d better say a few words, Rosy and thank everyone for their support. Steve was never one for speeches, but his sincerity spoke volumes on how he felt about his mother, and how she had come to love Rosy and the kids. His eyes reddened and at one point he nearly choked on his words. Rosy squeezed his hand in encouragement. Lift a glass, everyone. He paused. "My Ma was a wonderful mother and friend. I’d like you to join me in a toast in celebration of a well fulfilled life.

Drinks downed, he whispered to Rosy. I wish they’d all go and give us some peace.

Give them a we while longer so they can tuck in to the goodies, she said, then we can decently break it up.

Wee, smiled Steve. Am I getting you to speak the Scot’s lingo?

She gave him a little nudge. Okay, Jock, where are the twins?"

Over there, chatting to Pete. Pete was Tommy’s football-daft younger brother, but, from their animated discussion, he was clearly beginning to recognise the existence of girls, particularly pretty ones. In spite of his grim mood, Steve couldn’t help smiling. Life goes on, as if a switch had been activated, his back straightened and he looked at the assembled gathering. He held out his hand for Rosy and he saw her surprise that he was going to speak again.

My mother was never one for self-pity, and she would have had a few words to say to me about my behaviour over the past few days. I cherish her memory as I cherish the support all of you have given me since I lost her. For a moment he looked at Rosy, an unspoken question framed in his expression. She nodded. Some of you may think what I am about to say should have been kept for another time, but my only regret is that my Ma was not present to hear me say it. This is as close as I could have got to tell her The room became completely silent. He took a deep breath. This wonderful woman beside me has made my heart sing by agreeing to become my wife. Carrie and Filly tentatively started the applause from the corner of the room and progressively more hands joined in celebrating the announcement. He held up his glass of wine again.

I love you Ma, and I have found another love with Rosy and the girls. We won’t forget you. He beckoned to the twins and the crowd parted to let them come beside him. Backs were slapped, handshakes exchanged and more wine and beer flowed. Rosy’s eyes moistened.

Sometimes, Marine, you leave me speechless. Oh, you are an old romantic. I love you too, Steve Chalmers. The three women hugged him and when he broke from them, folk began to drift off after a final handshake. Tommy was the last to stay. Steve lips pursed s the soldier approached.

Steve, I’m very sorry about your Mum. He hesitated, not sure how Steve would react. I wish I could have told you at a different time, but I’m off to barracks tomorrow and I thought I should warn you. I was out with Frances and the baby yesterday and I saw Murphy and his gang coming down the road. We went over to the other side, but he followed us. He shook his head at the memory. They surrounded us and Frances was terrified, what with the baby there and all. One of them started to rock the pram. Frances screamed and I went for the bugger. Fortunately, someone shouted over to ask what the hell they were doing and they were going to call the police. The bastards, he muttered. You know I’m not very steady on my feet so it didn’t take much to have me on my backside on the deck. Tommy’s expression was grim. I know you taught us that we were only to use our moves for self-defence, but I think I could have murdered him. Murphy said they were going to trash the Squad Pod. It’s my fault. He’s never forgiven me for sorting him out a couple of years ago."

Steve put his arm round Tommy’s shoulder.

Not your fault at all, lad. Some people are born bad. Steve’s eyes narrowed and he slowly nodded his head. It’s a good thing you told me. It’ll give me a chance to get ready for him. Get back to your family now, and good luck in Edinburgh. Let me know how you get on.

As Tommy tapped away from the Brook House with his stick, Steve stood motionless.

Hey, marine. Have you forgotten I’m here?

Och, Rosy, I don’t know if you heard any of that.

Tell me on the way home. Come on, the girls will be there by now.

They walked back slowly along the main road. Steve stopped suddenly and grabbed Rosy’s hand.

"Look, luv, I think you ought to know. With Murphy on the scene again there’s going to be trouble. Big trouble.

CHAPTER 3

The room was spartan. Just a soulless box with no decoration and one window with little light coming through because it faced an outside wall of the barracks building. There was a metal filing cabinet in the corner. Captain MacKenzie, in an immaculate uniform, faced Tommy. He held a sheaf of papers, and beside him was another neatly stacked set. More casualties, Tommy wondered. A single pen was the only other item on his basic wooden desk. The young soldier sat straight-backed on a utilitarian chair, his walking stick resting against his thigh, on the other side of the desk from his commanding officer.

MacKenzie’s voice was clipped and impersonal’

I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Private Jackson, but with the cutbacks, we’ll no longer be able to keep you on in the Rifles once you’re discharged from Headley Court. His brow furrowed and he shifted uneasily in his chair.

Tommy leant forward.

I don’t mean to be insubordinate, sir, but does that mean you just dump me on the scrap heap?

The Captain gave a tired shake of his head.

Tommy, you must understand that we can’t put you back in the front line, and the people above are being faced with the Services being cut to the bone. MacKenzie sighed. I have my own feelings about the situation, but my hands are tied. He passed over the sheaf of papers. Read this lot carefully, then bring it to me tomorrow with your signature. There’s also a pack there with the help you can get and everything else you need to know.

Tommy’s face coloured and he leant forward to put both hands on the desk.

I’ve lost a leg and now I’ve lost the only job I ever had. Not much good for the wife and kid I’ve just had, is it? Makes you wonder why you made the effort in the first place. He settled back in his chair. What else could he say?

MacKenzie’s face remained expressionless.

You’ll probably be at Headley still for another few months, and your pay will continue. There are various training courses we can put you on to make it easier to find a position in civilian life. IT or electrical and electronics courses are popular.

Tommy shrugged. I’ll get someone to talk to you about that before you return to Headley Court. He heaved a sigh. That’s all for now.

Tommy took the papers and retrieved his walking stick, holding them both with his left hand. The cast protruded from his uniform sleeve as he saluted. MacKenzie knew about his broken wrist from the report sent from the hospital, but he didn’t comment. Tommy tapped his way out of the office, quietly, quietly closing the door, then he leant against the wall. He had never really thought that he would be totally chucked out. What a bloody shambles. He was back to square one.

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Tommy dressed and packed his few possessions. When the time came to leave Edinburgh, he had been given permission to stop off in Liverpool for a couple of days to see his new baby. Much to his surprise, his father was there at Lime Street station to meet him. Tommy’s father had taken little interest in his son until he joined The Rifles. He collected his weekly benefits and spent a lot of his time in the local betting shop, Bet Fred, and in his local pub, the Wellie, colloquial for The Wellington. He still went to these places, but always took a clipping from his tabloid on the course of the fight against the Taliban to discuss with his fellow punters. He was very proud of his son. His personality had totally changed after Tommy had been involved, and particularly since he had been injured. He took more pride in his appearance, and much to his wife’s surprise, helped around the house.

As Tommy stepped down awkwardly to the platform, someone handed him his kit bag. Tommy reached for it, but his father intervened.

Thanks, mister. Here let me take that, son. How did you get on? his expression was alive with expectation.

They can’t keep me on says the MOD. I’m not their problem anymore.

His father shook his head in disgust.

Bastards. To them you’re just cannon fodder. Come on, we’ll get a taxi and take you to Frances. Pete’s at school, but Mum and me have been invited for a cuppa.

Happy families, Tommy said with bitterness. They walked towards the taxi stand and stood in the queue. The lad leant heavily on his walking stick.

His father turned to him eyebrows raised.

You know; your mate Steve is one hell of a fellow. He and Rosy came round for a chat the other night. You never really told us how you met.

Tommy’s gloomy expression brightened briefly and he couldn’t help grinning.

Well, we didn’t exactly shake hands the first time round, and he could have given me a good thumping. I deserved it.

He’s proud of you too, son. In spite of the age difference, he says you’re like the little brother he never had and he can’t help looking out for you.

Tommy felt a lump in is throat.

He didn’t really want me and Jaz to join up, ’cos he was worried that something bad might happen to us. His eyes misted. Jaz was blown to pieces. I suppose I was the lucky one. I only lost a leg.

A taxi drew up. Tommy clambered in first while his father leaned through the car window to give the driver the address then hoisted the kit-bag inside and sat beside his son. The conversation stalled as Tommy sat quietly looking out the window, not seeing. Then he screwed his eyes shut. Memories of the ambush flashed in succession. Exploding whiteness, a hazy recollection of a morphine injection, then merciful unconsciousness. He woke up in Camp Bastion minus a leg. The flight back to England and ultimate transfer to Headley were a blur. He didn’t notice as the taxi weaved its way through the traffic. He wished Jimbo could be with him. He’d lost both legs, so the poor bugger would also be scrapped for certain. His reveries were interrupted when his father nudged him.

We’re here, son. Let’s get you out to your girl and that cracking little daughter of yours.

Tommy was hardly out of the cab when he was almost knocked over as a pair of arms were flung about his neck and he was smothered in an all-embracing kiss. When he was able to come up for air, he looked into the eyes of his wife. She didn’t say a word, but linked arms with him and led him into her parent’s small terraced house. His cares dissolved and he smiled broadly. Standing there to greet him was his mother, gently rocking Jasmine in here arms. Round the room he saw Mabel and Sam, Frances’ parents, and Steve and Rosy. For a moment he hesitated. How could he tell everyone the score when he hadn’t really grasped it himself? Somehow he had let them all down.

Welcome home, Tommy, said Sam as he reached out for a handshake. This is your home for as long as you want it or need it. Mabel came to hug him and his mother stepped forward to show him his daughter. Once again, he looked in wonder at the little creature. He marvelled at the tiny hands, the little finger nails and the perfection of her features with a button nose. Her eyelashes, long and curling for a baby but similar to her mother’s."

Can I hold her?

Frances pointed to a chair. Give me your stick and sit down. I don’t want you other in a heap on the floor. She guided him to an armchair, and, taking the baby from her mother-in-law, she laced her in is arms. She was like a gorgeous little doll. He sat stiffly, hardly daring to move in case she broke. When he looked up, he shook his head sadly.

What kind of a start am I going to give my little girl. I’ve only got one leg. There’ll be no work for me ’cos who’s going to take on a cripple?

The room became quiet. He saw Steve frowning.

Well that’s the truth, isn’t it? he said, unable to hide the bitterness.

"Steve stepped forward, expression fixed. Tommy held his breath. Was he going to get another tongue-lashing?

Listen up, soldier. Look around the room, then look at that wee treasure in your lap. He waited a few seconds. The silence was loud enough to hear. In this room, apart from Pete, you’ve got everyone that means anything to you, and we feel the same about you. We’re always here for you. Stop moaning and realise how lucky you are. The worlds at your feet, even your tin one. For the first time, here was a glimmer of a smile from Tommy. I remember a few months ago, Steve continued, "when you were still in hospital