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The green curtain swirled across the door, deadening the voices, and leaving Sheridan alone.

* * *

Drummond closed the door of the operations room behind him and stood uncertainly in a long passageway. Wrens hurried back and forth with signals and mysterious packages. Officers of every shape, size and rank bustled past him. Even here i Rosyth, Drummond had that same feeling he had known in the Whitehall bunker. That the H.Q. war, wherever it was, would continue with the same vigour without any ships at all..

He straightened his new cap and saw two Wrens watching him, whispering behind their papers.

He smiled, and one of them said, “We saw your ships coming under the Forth Bridge, sir. It was all lovely!”

The other said, “But they were so knocked about. So small looking.”

He nodded. “They felt a bit small at times, too.” Another voice said, “Hero-worship, how terrible!”

He turned and saw her standing in an open door. She was smiling at him, but her face was like a beautiful mask. He crossed the passage and held her arm.

“It’s good to see you. I never know where I’m going to see you next.”

She pulled him into the empty office and slammed the door. For a long moment she studied him, her smile gone, her eyes brittle with tears.

“Oh, Keith!” She threw herself against him, burying her face on his chest. “What have they done to you?”

He held her tightly, unable to think, to speak. He only knew that they were together. It was real. Not some sustaining dream to make a man do the impossible. She needed him almost as muchh as he did her.

She said softly, “When I saw you just now. Your face. I couldn’t believe that you could hide such feelings from those around you. All day. Every time you appear before your men. You must appear perfect. A man without fear or feelings.”

He held her more tightly.

“Don’t. It’s all right really. I’m all right now.”

She eased herself away and looked up at him.

“Oh, yes.” She tried to smile. “I can see that.”

He released her hands and said, ” Warlock’s going into dock tomorrow. I’ll have to be nearby. In case anything goes wrong with her.”

She moved her head from side to side.

Her mouth was moist as she said, “I could hate that ship, if I didn’t know I could never compete with her in your heart.”

He continued, “I want you near me. If you’d like it, that is…”

“Like it?”

She stepped towards him and put her hands against his face. They were very warm.

There were voices in the passageway. There was no more time.

He said urgently, “Edinburgh. There used to be a good hotel … ”

The voices were getting closer. She lifted herself on her toes and kissed him on the mouth.

“Do it, Keith. I can get away from work.” She pushed her face on to his shoulder, hiding it from him. “Don’t think badly of me. But I want you all to myself. ” She gripped his neck with both arms. “Just us.”

The door opened and a bespectacled clerk asked awkwardly, “Is it all right to come in?”

She turned to the window, dabbing her face with a small handkerchief.

“Yes. Of course. I was just asking the commander a few questions.”

She could not keep it up, and when she faced him he saw that she was smiling at him. Really smiling this time.

God, I love you. He said, “I’ll call you then.”

She tried to be serious. “You do that, sir.”

Drummond nodded to the astonished clerk and left the room. She hurried after him and caught his arm.

“You’ve got lipstick on your face.” She was laughing and crying at the same time. “No naval officer worth his salt can walk about like that!” She rubbed his face with her handkerchief. “And don’t you go off with any of those Wrens either! A ship is bad enough, but I’ll scratch their eyes out if they start anything.”

He held on to her wrist. “Sarah. Oh, Sarah.”

She nodded, a tear started down her cheek. “I know, Keith. I know. But it will be all right. ” She touched the back of his hand. “I’ll make it so.”

When Drummond reached the main doorway he looked back. She had gone, but he could still see her.

* * *

She stood just inside the wide doorway and looked slowly around the room, as if unwilling to break the spell.

As the hotel porter shut the door she exclaimed, “It’s huge! How did you manage it?”

“Rank has some privileges.”

He put her small case by the bed and crossed to the windows. It was getting dark, but the rain had stopped, leaving only streamers of black cloud across the first small stars. Below, in Princes Street, the traffic sounds seemed a long way off, the cars groping like little moles, trying to get home before blackout.

He turned and looked at her. Against the big door, the room’s air of a past, extravagant age, she seemed frail, like a child. She had changed into a dress which he had not seen before, and was watching him soundlessly, her arms limp at her sides.

She said suddenly, “Oh, Keith, I’m almost afraid to believe it’s true.”

He smiled. “I think the hotel nearly changed its mind about giving us the room. It’s very respectable.” He walked to her and held her against him. “But I liked the look of it. Commander and Mrs. Liruniniond.”

Together they walked to the bed. It was high off the floor. Massive. She tightened her grip on his hand.

“I feel like Emma Hamilton!”

There was a discreet tap on the door and a servant peered in at them.

“Will you fix the blackout curtains, sir, or will I?” He looked at the girl. “Does, er, Mrs. Drummond have everything she needs?”

Drummond gave him ten shillings. “Yes to both questions, thank you.”

He waited until they were alone. “I expect they’ve seen our ration cards already.”

She pulled herself up, her arms around his neck. “I don’t care. Not about anything.”

He sat her on the bed and opened his case.

She laughed. “Champagne!”

“I told you. Rank.” He grinned, sharing her excitement. Feeling his mind melt with each of her movements, her voice. “Actually, Owles got it from somewhere. I didn’t ask.”

Owles had packed it carefully in a piece of oilskin, blurred with moisture and ice-cold. He had said, “Do you good, sir. This and a spot of leaf.”

“He sounds nice.”

She followed him into the bathroom where he rummaged for two glasses.

He answered, “Like a mother to me. Most of the time.”

The cork made a cheerful sound, and for a long time they stood by the window between the curtains, watching the shadows, unwilling to speak.

Then she said, “I don’t want you to think that I

He replied gravely, “I think you are beautiful. I think I will try to make you love me.” He held his glass against hers. “As I do you.”

She would not look at him. “Cheers.” It was all she could manage.

She added, “I could get to like champagne.” She looked at her case. “I want to go to bed.”

He said, “I have to telephone the dockyard.” He grimaced. “I’ll be ten minutes.” There was a telephone beside the bed. “Be as quick as I can.”

He walked down the stairs and around the busy lobby, seeing nothing. He was barely aware of the many uniforms, the atmosphere of escape and gaiety. A holding on to a past which would never be the same again.