For Kingdom and Country Read Online Free Page B

at the sound of running footsteps. The two Kurds who had been pointing off into the distance, a young man with bright, excitable eyes, called Mehmet, and an older, burly chap Lock knew as Fuat, were rapidly approaching.
    ‘What do you think it is? ’ Fuat said.
    ‘ I can’t tell. I don’t think they’re coming this way ,’ Lock said.
    ‘ I go see ,’ Mehmet said, lifting a pushbike from the far end of the ox cart.
    ‘ Hey, no. We’ve work to —’ Lock started to argue, but the young Kurd had already pedalled off in a frenzy of pumping knees and creaking metal.
    Lock shook his head irritably and jumped down from the cart. He gathered up a coil of cable and swung it over his shoulder.
    ‘ Bedros is making coffee. Ten minutes, then I want the rest of those poles up before nightfall .’
    He pushed past Fuat and trudged towards the main work detail.
    ‘Mister Lock? Mister Lock?’ a soft voice called after him.
    Lock turned about, but no one was there. The ox cart was empty and Bedros and Fuat had vanished. The dust cloud on the horizon had gone.
    ‘Mister Lock?’ the voice called again.
    Lock dropped the cable and spun round. The main work detail had vanished. The road was deserted. He was alone. He shook his head and closed his eyes.
    ‘Mister Lock?’
    It was a woman’s voice, gentle and speaking in English, tinged with a regional accent Lock couldn’t quite place. Lancashire?
    He looked up and started. Staring down at him through a blurred fog was a pair of wide, brown eyes.
    ‘Mister Lock, I’m going to help you to sit up a little,’ the voice belonging to the brown eyes said. ‘I need to change your dressings.’
    Lock felt himself nod as he was gently, but firmly, manhandled into a more upright position. The scent of strawberries tickled his nostrils. He stared until he could bring the woman into focus. She was a young nurse, in her early twenties, he guessed. Her face was as pale as milk and was framed by a white headscarf, which had a bright red cross emblazoned on its centre. A curl of brown hair was protruding from under the band. She had a delicate, small nose and beautiful, sensual lips. They were slightly open and Lock could see her tongue move across the tips of her teeth as she concentrated on what she was doing.
    Lock knew her, remembered her, remembered the same act of concentration when she had … dressed his hand? … Yes, that was it, Nurse Owen. Molly? No, it was …
    ‘Mary?’
    ‘Here,’ she said, and Lock felt the coolness of a glass of water touch his lips. He drank thirstily.
    ‘Steady. Not too fast,’ she said, pulling the glass away again.
    ‘Thank you, Mary,’ Lock croaked. ‘It is Mary, isn’t it?’
    ‘Yes,’ she smiled. ‘It’s a good sign that you remember me.’
    Lock looked about the stark room. ‘Where am I?’
    Mary frowned. ‘In the Officers’ Hospital. A private room.’
    ‘How …?’
    ‘Long?’
    Lock nodded.
    ‘A week now. You’ve been in a very bad way,’ Mary said, while she fussed around, straightening out Lock’s bedding.
    ‘May I have some more water, Mary?’ Lock smiled. ‘My throat feels like it’s full of sand.’
    ‘Let me change your bandages first.’
    Mary turned to the trolley at her side and picked up a pair of scissors and a roll of gauze.
    ‘Now, let’s take a look at your head.’
    She leant forward and began to cut away and unravel the bandage wrapped around Lock’s head. He hadn’t notice the bandages were there before, but as they came away he could feel the pressure ease and the air rush to his itching scalp.
    ‘We had to clip your hair very short to treat the wound,’ she said. ‘But it will grow back soon enough.’
    As Mary worked, leaning close to him, her body heat radiating out, Lock’s eyes fell on the swell of her bosom and he felt a sudden surge of desire. Had this girl not kissed him once?
    ‘What is it?’ Mary frowned, catching the look on his face, and standing back.
    Lock’s gaze moved to the