MAY 1943
I hadn’t seen him in nearly three weeks now, so I decided that the next time one of the soldiers came into the shop, I’d gather up my courage and ask him about my friend. And then this morning the officer with the dark glasses, Mr Hello, Duchess, he popped in to ask the way to some place or other. After I’d told him what he wanted to know, I asked him if my friend was being punished. At first he looked surprised, then he just said, yes. I told him that this was unfair, and that what had happened was no fault of my friend’s. But the officer pretended that he didn’t hear me. He smiled, saluted, and then turned on his heels and left. I closed the shop early and began the short walk down to the camp. I went up to the soldiers on the gate. They asked me what I wanted, but I just told them that I wanted to see the man in charge and they did nothing after that. They just stood to one side and I walked right through. I went up to the main office and was shown into a room where a man was sitting behind a desk. Yes, he snapped. Then, after he looked up and saw who it was standing in front of him, he stood up and extended a hand. I’m sorry. Please take a seat. I looked at him but continued to stand. He sat down. My friend, I said. He’s being punished for something that’s not his fault. He furrowed his brow as if he didn’t quite know whom it was I was referring to. Your friend? I wasn’t about to play this game. I stared right back at him. He knew who my friend was. I went on and explained how it was my fault that we missed the bus. How I was the one, if anybody, who should be blamed. He then started to tell me about discipline. And how important it was in the army that orders were obeyed. And that if you made an exception for one, you soon found that you had to make an exception for everybody. I listened. And then I explained again that it was my fault that we missed the bus. He looked at me. What would you like me to do about it? Believe me, I said. The bloody little squirt looked back down at his desk. I’ll see what I can do, he said. Which really meant nothing, for we both knew he could do whatever he wanted to do. I turned and started to leave. But it’s not that we don’t want our men to mix with you village girls, it’s not that at all. It’s just that we don’t want any incidents. It hasn’t been easy for any of us. I turned and walked out of the door. Walking back across the camp, I had the feeling that everybody knew who I was, and that they knew why I’d been to see the commanding officer. I wandered back up towards the shop. Some villagers stopped and stared at me. They pointed by simply nodding their heads in my direction. Both inside the camp, and outside, I was attracting attention. But for the wrong reasons.
JUNE 1943
Today he came into the shop. I couldn’t help myself, I let out a little scream of delight. He didn’t want to buy anything. He just wanted to talk. He told me how embarrassed he’d been in the back of the jeep. I said that he had no reason to be embarrassed. After all, I was the one who should be embarrassed. I was the one who’d got us into the mess to start with. I said, If I’d been keeping a check on the time then it would never have happened in the first place. We fought over this and then fell silent when an old woman came in for her fags. She looked in the direction of my friend, but said nothing beyond ‘ta’ as she left. For a while the noise of the doorbell echoed in the silence. It registered a change of tone for the whole conversation. My friend lowered his voice and said how grateful he was that I had taken the trouble to come and help him out. I decided to close up the shop. Well, it was almost time anyway. I turned the sign around and drew the latch. Once I’d done this he relaxed. He told me that the military police hadn’t taken him back to the camp. After they dropped me off, they’d driven him down the road to a clearing and told him to get out of the jeep. And then they beat him with their sticks. He said they beat him so hard that he thought his kidneys were going to burst. I closed my mouth, which I now realized had been hanging open. When they took him back to the camp, they’d made a report that said that he’d been drunk and difficult. As a result, the commanding officer had decided that he was to be confined to the camp until further notice. I was horrified when he told me this, but he seemed to take it as a matter of course. He told me that the army only liked to use them for cleaning and the like. I asked him if he’d like to come to the pub with me for a drink. I wanted him to continue talking to me. I wanted him to try to understand that I needed to know more about him, otherwise I would keep getting upset and just make more mistakes. I was bound to if I didn’t get any help. He asked me if I thought it was proper that he should go into the pub with me. I looked at him and told him that there was nothing wrong with his going into the pub with me. Why should there be? Fine, then we’ll go to the pub, he said. I locked the door behind us. I noticed that there was nobody on the streets. I expected everybody was having their tea. It was that time of the day. And in the pub, there was just the odd old boy. Nobody, really. He ordered a pint and a half of bitter. The landlord liked them. The Americans. I think he had a soft spot for them, wanted them to feel at home. And once they realized that the beer was always going to taste flat and warm, and that sometimes you would have to drink out of a jar if he ran out of glasses, then they were all right about everything. He even laughed when one of them handed him back a pint and told him to pour it back into the horse that it came from. And I liked the landlord. I’d noticed that after he’d been in the cellar to tap a new cask, he had a habit of taking a quiet smoke in the back parlour, as opposed to the public bar. It was as though he needed time to himself to collect his thoughts. I liked that about him. And then he’d come through into the public and knock out his empty pipe. Travis brought the pint and a half over to the seat in the corner. I told him that from here we’d soon be able to watch the sun go down.
JUNE 1943
Once back at the shop, he sat with me upstairs. And I offered him tea. Hot tea, as he insisted on calling it. And he said very little. It had already been said. I asked him if he was hungry, but he just shook his head. I’m not much of a cook, so that solved that. I realized that he probably didn’t want to listen to the wireless, and I couldn’t blame him. So we were happy with the silence, and the occasional comment. It wasn’t too difficult or too awkward. If we had something to say, it was said. And that was the end of it. It grew dark outside. There was no noise, as ever. Across the room I saw the framed photograph of Len and me on our wedding day. Turned down. Its face buried in a thin layer of dust on top of the chest of drawers. And then Travis got to his feet. I have to go now. I have to get back. I’m sorry if I’ve taken up too much of your time. I just wanted to say thank you. Did I ever — he changes tack now — did I ever show you pictures of my home town? Or pictures of my folks? He must know that he never did. It’s not the type of thing that a man would do for a virtual stranger and then forget about. And certainly not this man. I was already sure of that. No, I said. But I would love to see them. Okay, he said. I’ll bring them along. Next time. He saluted. I laughed. And then he reached out his hand for me to shake. I’ll walk back with you, I said. He gave a little laugh, as though nervous. Now don’t you worry, he said. Little danger of my getting lost. Although, never know who you’re gonna run into on the roads. Military Police. Anyone. His hand was beginning to look foolish, so I took it and held it between both of mine. And I surprised myself, for I squeezed it. Gently. Then he leaned forward and kissed my hand. Thank you, I said. Thank you, he said. The lights were out. I could see his eyes gleaming. He wrestled his hand out from between mine. I wanted to catch it like a slippery fish, but he was too nimble for me. I have to go now, he said. I’ll be fine by myself. I’m sorry. I smiled. I knew he meant it. I knew he did. He was sorry that he had to go. After I closed the door behind him, I went back upstairs. I picked up the cup and saucer that he had been drinking out of, and I ran my finger around the rim of the cup. A little tea stain. And then I saw the mark in the settee where he’d been sitting. The room smelt of him. A good smell. I could smell him on me. I wasn’t going to be alone again. As long as I didn’t open any windows or doors. As long as I didn’t wash anything. Then I could make the smell last a little longer.