Monstrous Regiment

career, and it’s one some of the other Little Lads learned for ’emselves: sometimes it’ll help if you visits one of them naughty places, otherwise the men’ll wonder about you. I always used to take a book to read and advise the young lady to get some sleep, ’cos they does a tough job.”
    Polly let that pass, but said: “You don’t want to go back and see your grandchildren?”
    “Wouldn’t wish meself on him, lad,” said Jackrum firmly. “Wouldn’t dare. My boy’s a well-respected man in the town! What’ve I got to offer? He’ll not want some fat ol’ biddy banging on his back door and gobbing baccy juice all over the place and telling him she’s his mother!”
    Polly looked at the fire for a moment, and felt the idea creep into her mind.
    “What about a distinguished-looking sergeant major, shiny with braid, loaded with medals, arriving at the front door in a grand coach and telling him he’s his father?” she said.
    Jackrum stared.
    “Tides of war, and all that,” Polly went on, mind suddenly racing. “Young love. Duty calls. Families scattered. Hopeless searching. Decades pass. Fond memories. Then…oh, an overheard conversation in a bar, yeah, that’d work. Hope springs. A new search. Greasing palms. The recollections of old women. At last, an address—”
    “What’re you saying , Perks?”
    “You’re a liar , Sarge,” said Polly, leaning forward. “Best I’ve ever heard. One last lie pays for all! Why not? You could show him the locket. You could tell him about the girl you left behind you…”
    Jackrum looked away, but said: “You’re a shining bastard of a thinker, Perks. And where would I get a grand coach, anyway?”
    “Oh, Sarge! Today? There are… men in high places who’ll give you anything you ask for, right now. You know that. Especially if it meant they’d see the back of you. You never put the bite on them for anything much. If I was you, Sarge, I’d cash in a few favors while you can. That’s the Ins-and-Outs, Sarge. Take the cheese while it’s there, ’cos kissin’ don’t last.”
    Jackrum took a deep, long breath.
    “I’ll think about it, Perks. Now you push off, all right?”
    Polly stood up. “Think hard, Sarge, eh? Like you said, anyone who’s got anyone left is ahead of the game right now. Four grandchildren? I’d be a proud kid if I had a grandad who could spit tobacco juice far enough to hit a fly on the opposite wall.”
    “I’m warning you, Perks.”
    “It was just a thought, Sarge.”
    “Yeah…right,” Jackrum growled.
    “Thanks for getting us through it, Sarge.”
    Jackrum didn’t turn around.
    “I’ll be going then, Sarge.”
    “Perks!” said Jackrum, as she reached the door. Polly stepped back into the room.
    “Yes, Sarge?”
    “I…expected better of ’em, really. I thought they’d be better at it than men. Trouble was, they were better than men at being like men. Hah, they do say the army can make a man of you, eh? So…whatever it is you are going to do next, do it as you. Good or bad, do it as you. Too many lies and there’s no truth to go back to.”
    “Will do, Sarge.”
    “That’s an order, Perks. Oh…and Perks?”
    “Yes, Sarge?”
    “Thanks, Perks.”
    Polly paused when she got to the door. Jackrum had turned her chair to the fire, and had settled back. Around her, the kitchen worked.

    Six months passed. The world wasn’t perfect, but it was still turning.
    Polly had kept the newspaper articles. They weren’t accurate, not in the detail, because the writer told…stories, not what was actually happening. They were like paintings, when you had been there and had seen the real thing.
    But it was true about the march on the castle, with Wazzer on a white horse in front, carrying the flag. And it was true about people coming out of their houses and joining the march, so that what arrived at the gates was not an army but a sort of disciplined mob, shouting and cheering. And it was true that the guards had taken one look at it and had seriously reconsidered their future, and that gates had swung open even before the horse had clattered onto the drawbridge. There was no fighting, no fighting at all. The shoe had dropped. The country had breathed out.
    Polly didn’t think it was true that the painting of the Duchess, alone on its easel in the big, empty throne room, had smiled when Wazzer walked toward it. Polly had been there and didn’t see, but lots of people swore it had, and you might end up