The scurrilous blighter! He should have been in prison and I told him so.

‘Prison! Why? What are you talking about?’ he said.

‘For all that business.’

‘What? Showing a lady a good time?’

‘Good God, man, can you think of nothing else?’

‘I can, but I don’t like to.’ He started laughing. His eye winking rapidly as a faulty bulb. Pushed a piece of paper into my hand. When I didn’t take it he stuffed it into my pocket. Patted it twice, saying, ‘Trust me, you won’t regret it. You ask your chum, Maxi.’

‘What’s Maxi got to do with it?’

‘He didn’t regret it. Came back a few times for more.’

‘Rubbish!’ I told him.

‘Don’t take my word, ask him.’

‘Maxi’s dead,’ I said. That wiped his smug face clean.

‘Dead!’

‘Died in a basha fire. Him and seven others.’

‘Jesus. Bad business. Dead. How did that happen?’

‘It was your fault,’ I told him.

He looked at me, dumb as a coolie. Mouth agape. Eyes popping. Who would blink first, me or him? ‘Come again?’ he finally said.

‘I said it was your fault. The fire. The fire that killed them was because of you.’

‘I hardly knew him. I hadn’t seen him since Cal.’ He frowned, his dark eyebrows meeting in a hooded V over his eyes. I almost felt sorry for him. A lot to carry. A lot to bear – the death of eight men. Then his mouth flickered into a grin. Slowly revealing two front teeth. Stained with nicotine they looked to be made of wood. ‘I’ve been nowhere near your unit for ages. What are you going on about now, Pop?’

‘They wanted to get you off the charge. They had a meeting in the basha. It got burned down with them in it.’

‘What charge?’

‘That business.’

‘What business?’

‘Disobeying an order.’

‘Oh, that! Didn’t you lot hear? They dropped all those charges after a couple of days. I got posted with another unit. The CO couldn’t be bothered with it. Said the war had been over for too long. Me and Geordie. We should all have been home anyway, he said. I’d got a good record. He just gave us a bit of a warning. Discipline, blah, blah, blah. That sort of thing. I promised to be a good boy from now on and he forgot about it.’ He told his story like I’d be pleased for him. The man was an idiot. ‘But it’s bad about Maxi,’ he said.

‘He was a decent man,’ I said.

‘Yeah, but he knew how to enjoy himself.’ He leered again. As ever, commanded to by his loins.

‘Oh, for God’s sake! Have you no decency? Men died trying to save your skin.’

‘Look, Pop. They were your unit, I know. You’re upset. Who wouldn’t be? But it’s got nothing to do with me.’

‘Nothing to do with you? It’s got everything to do with you and your sort.’

He stared at me for some time, wondering how to respond. Looked over my shoulder. Bit his lip. Down to his feet. Back to my face. ‘Fuck off, Pop.’ He turned his back to me. Took two steps away. Then stopped, turned on his heel to face me again. ‘Come to think of it, didn’t a little birdie tell me something about you? Weren’t you in trouble? Weren’t you in the clink?’

I felt no need to answer him. Adopted a parade-ground stance. Head up. Chest out.

‘You were, weren’t you? What was it for? Being a miserable bastard? Being the most useless erk on your unit?’

I grabbed him round the throat. Got my whole hand over his Adam’s apple. Felt my nails in his skin. But he pushed me off – younger man, you see. He started walking away. I chased after him. I’d never meaningfully punched anyone in my life but, by God, I was ready to try. He dodged me as I whacked at air. Lost my balance. The fool was laughing at me. I came at him again. He lifted up one gangly arm and rammed it on my forehead. Long as an ape’s, his arm – my punches could get nowhere near him. He had me struggling, ineffectual, like a dunce with a bully. Whacking the air between us. Passers-by looked amused. Thought these two servicemen must be having some high jinks. But he had a tiger by the tail. I lunged at him when he dropped his hold. But he grabbed me. Spinning my arm up round my back. Thought he would rip it from my shoulder. Mouth next to my ear he spat into it, ‘God, Pop, you’re just a laughing-stock, you know that? Everyone says it. Maxi was the only one who could stomach you. Go and get yourself fucked properly, Pop. Show that poor wife of yours that you did something useful while you were out here.’

She hardly spoke any English. Just a few words learned by rote from other men who’d passed through.

‘Tommy. You are liking me, nice clean girl?’

I told her to shut up.

She lay back on the bed. Rested on her elbows. Examined me while I unbuttoned my trousers. ‘Turn away,’ I told her. Said it twice. Silly girl only smiled. Obviously never heard those words come from a Tommy’s lips before. Carried on eyeing me. Batting her eyelids sleepy slow. I turned my back to her.

‘How you are liking it, Tommy?’ she asked.

‘Doggy,’ I said, over my shoulder.

She came up behind me, started wiping her hands down my back. Hadn’t a clue what I meant. ‘Doggy,’ I said again. She brushed a hand over my chest. I watched her tiny brown fingers pushing down over my nipple. Threw her off as I turned round. ‘Doggy. On your hands and knees.’

She frowned.

‘Like this.’ I showed her how just like Spike had for me. Eventually she wriggled up the bed on all fours. The cheeks of her bottom curving tight as a doped kite. Sleek as marble. Breasts dangling like a cow’s udder. She looked back cursorily to see if she’d got it right. My erection was fierce. I got on the bed behind her. On my knees, I grabbed her where I could. Rammed her in one. She cried out. Something. Tommy. Something. ‘Shut up,’ I told her. And she started wiggling side to side like a blasted dancer in a bazaar. ‘Stay still,’ I shouted.

She was panting, ‘Aah, aah.’ And writhing the way her Tommies usually enjoyed it.

Nothing for it, I grabbed her hair into a bunch. Held it firm in my fist to keep the wriggling whore still as I thrust at her. Riding her hard – just as I had been promised.

Didn’t take long. Yelled out (I admit). Ejaculation was a blessed release, like lowering myself into a cool bath. Leaning back, closing my eyes, breathless. A few moments of peace before I realised I still had her hair wrapped tight in my fist. Her head, wrenched back, was baring its teeth in a rictal gape. I soon let go and she quickly pulled herself away from me. Got up from the bed. Jumped out of my reach. And only then did I see that she was nothing but a girl. Surely no more than fifteen. No younger. Fourteen or even twelve. A small girl. Hadn’t noticed before. Just took in a whore’s room. The coloured lights, the trinkets on the walls, the overpowering smell of jasmine. The breathy whispered, ‘Hello, Tommy.’ Her scanty robe, bare breasts, naked behind. And my pathetic need of it all. But now the fear in her black eyes – harmless as a baby’s – was denouncing me as depraved. What was I doing?

What would Queenie think of her husband now? Trousers round my ankles in a brothel, defiling someone’s daughter. ‘Is this what the war’s done for you?’ she’d say. This war hadn’t made me a hero. It had brought me to my knees.

‘I’m so sorry,’ I told the girl. She didn’t understand. I put out my hand to her. ‘I’m so terribly sorry.’ But she cringed, fearful. She was covering her body as best she could – with her arms, her hands. ‘Never done this sort of thing before. I’ve no idea what came over me.’ She was feeling for her robe, obviously too scared of me to let me out of her gaze. ‘Please forgive me.’ As I moved again, the merest shift off my knees to sit on the bed, she took a startled breath. ‘I won’t touch you,’ I told her. She cringed lower to the ground like a cornered animal. ‘I’m an Englishman,’ I explained. ‘In the RAF. Back home I was a bank clerk. It’s a very responsible position. I’m a married man, you see. An Englishman . . . me English-man . . .’ But I felt like a beast. It was then, as if from nowhere, a sob fierce as a child’s rose in me. I gulped for air. Mouth open – a long, breathless pause ended with the release of an anguished howl. Great spasms convulsed through me. My hands trembled. I covered my face. Gasped for more breath, which came in short bursts of pitiable whimpering.