THE WAR AFFAIR
Within sight of the bustling intersection of Grosvenor Square, in the West end of Britain's capital city, The Parkhurst was an upscale establishment, pleasantly furnished with modern dEcor and convertible suites. In 1944, like most other London hostelries, The Parkhurst had room to spare, when Lieutenant David Chandler phoned for adjoining rooms, for himself and a female guest.
As they were unpacking, Sally appeared in the interconnecting doorway. She was resplendent in white wool knit dress, with a pretty coral scarf at her neck and mock pearl earrings. Her shapely legs were sheathed in nylons, a gift from David via a pilot friend who traversed the Atlantic regularly, for Transport Command.
"Dave, I can't tell you how great it is to be in civvies again. And you look so handsome in your civilian clothes. But nobody would mistake you for a Brit. Your outfit looks so new and unworn."
Over his shoulder, he replied: "They had better last the war, Sally, because these are the only civilian clothes I brought over."
She tiptoed into the room while he was bent over his suitcase, and tapped him on the shoulder. When he straightened up, she flung her arms around him and gave him a big hug and kiss. "That's for inviting me to London for the weekend. We were so lucky to be able to get three days off together."
"What would you like to do first, Sally, after we finish unpacking?"
She smiled and went over to the bed, where she bounced up and down, playfully.
David laughed. "I mean after that, you little devil. We can't spend the whole three days in bed."
She pretended to pout. "We could try!"
"Well, sure. But if we get tired, we might take in a show or two. Shaw's Arsenic and Old Lace is on, and if you are up to Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream is playing at the Haymarket Theater; and, I hear Ivor Novello's Dancing Years is the talk of the town. Then there's Frank Lehar's The Merry Widow..."
"Whoa there, young feller. Stop right there. We only have three days, and we must get our priorities right. First, we make love, and then some sightseeing, and then a little more lovemaking, and then some food, and then...Look what you've done to me. I have acquired a one track mind!"
He abandoned his attempt at unpacking, and went over to the bed where she was sitting. He put his arms around her: "And, what a lovely one track it is! I never thought our platonic relationship could be so rewarding."
"Since you have ruined my reputation, sir, I might as well enjoy it"
"Especially when it just gets better and better," he agreed. "Now, maybe you'll believe in love at first sight, just like I do. Instant chemical reaction! Positive and negative ions attracting each other! Born oceans apart, and coming together in an old farmhouse. How improbable! How wonderful!"
"I'm so glad we found that old, abandoned farmhouse for our 'meetings', David."
The phone rang in the adjoining room.
"That's my phone," Sally said. "I wonder who could be calling?"
"Don't answer it."
"It might be RAF Trelawn. Maybe something important."
"Did you leave your number?" he asked.
"Had to. Standing orders. In case of big ops."
The phone stopped ringing after a few second, and then started again. Her finger touched his nose. "Don't you dare go away. I'll be right back."
She rose and went to her room.
A couple of minutes later, Sally returned. Her face was as white as a sheet. There were incipient tears in her eyes.
Alarmed, David jumped up and ran over to her. "Sally, what is it? What's the matter?"
She didn't answer, but flung her arms around him and moaned softly, with her head on his chest. Then, she burst into tears. "Damn...damn...damn," was all she said.
He waited a few seconds, his arms lightly holding her. He wondered if the call was about her father, whom she said was in poor health. He took a clean handkerchief from his suitcase and dabbed her wet cheeks. She took it from him, wiped both eyes and looked at David with the saddest expression.
"It's over. David."
"What's over?"
"You and me - our affair." She burst into tears again.
Holding her closely, he waited until she had gotten over her mysterious outburst. When she had finished sniffing and wiping her eyes again, he gently asked: "What do you mean, Sally? Why is it over?"
She took a deep breath, as though gathering her strength to impart the bad news, pulled his face down to hers and gave him a wet kiss. "Because the call was a message from the Personnel section of the War Office, via RAF Trelawn. My husband, Sergeant James Rainey is on a ship en route to England." Her lovely face was distorted, trying to hold back more tears.
Gently, he put his fingers under her chin, so that she would have to look at him. "Sally, when is he arriving?"
She blew into his hanky. "Sunday, at Southampton. I have been granted a week's Leave on compassionate grounds, so that I can be there when he arrives."
The initial shock was wearing off. David was starting to feel guilty about his role in the torrid affair with Sally. Cuckolding another serviceman was not a very nice thing to do. He knew sexual diversions happened frequently in wartime, because of long separations of married couples. But that was not a good enough excuse, even if the guy was not interested enough to write his wife, only once in all the time he was away.
"Sally, I'm sorry. Sorry I seduced you. I don't like being the guilty party in this situation. My only excuse is that I never intended to take advantage of you. I just couldn't help myself. I am so deeply in love with you."
"She put a finger over his lips. "Stop! Stop accusing yourself. You didn't seduce me. We seduced each other."
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