“You’d learn to appreciate the small things and live through the big ones, just like we’ve had to. But you’d do it in your own way. The streets of Paris ring to the sound of marching jackboots. Yet I’m willing to bet that in the back arrondissements life goes on much as it’s always done, and it will continue to do so if the jackboots are still there a thousand years from now as they’ve promised they will be.”
“People still drink wine and make love.”
“Exactly. And now they even have the Germans right there to feel superior to. Looked at from the proper perspective, it must be heaven for them.”
Guy laughed. “I thought it was the English who looked down on everyone.”
“No, we just ignore them or convert them to our way of thinking. We’re much more optimistic than the French. They think no one can be as good as they are. We’re willing to give them credit for at least trying to live up to our impossible standards when we see people making the attempt.”
“This is way too byzantine for a simple American boy. I knew Anglo-French relations were complicated, but I had no idea how subtle the manifestations were.”
“Well, you’re very young.”
“Wait a minute. I’ll have you know I won’t see my twenties again. I don’t consider that young.”
“I meant as a people, you clot. You’ve barely been a country ten minutes. Wait until you’ve been trying to get along with your neighbors for hundreds and hundreds of years,” she advised. “Then you’ll see what kind of subtle tensions can develop.”
“Subtle nothing,” Guy had to admit. “Since we became a country, which happened through revolution, don’t forget, we’ve been at war with Canada, Mexico and, failing any other neighbors, ourselves.”
“Like I said, you’re very young, still tussling in the playground to see who the king of the castle is. As your country ages, perhaps you’ll learn diplomacy.”
“You realize there’s one major flaw with your argument, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. We’re the ones at war, not you. And even though it’s very, very clear to us which are the black knights and which are the ones in shining armor, it was unchivalrous of you to point it out.”
“Yeah, well. I’m young. Diplomatically speaking.”
“You’re growing up very quickly,” was the wry reply.
There didn’t seem to be an answer to that crack and so Guy let it go. They sat on the edge of the roof in companionable silence until a sudden bang behind them made them both jump.
“Oi! Yank!” The words were half way between a whisper and a shout, spoken by someone trying to get his attention without making too much noise. “You there?”
Guy turned toward the door.
“Angela?”
Molly jumped up from her perch on the parapet and ran over to the open doorway, Guy on her heels. “Is everything all right?” she asked quickly, kneeling down before the child.
“Of course it is,” Angela answered readily, suddenly sounding older than her years, her earlier shyness forgotten. “Why shouldn’t it be? There’s no bombers in the sky tonight, are there? I’ve brought a cup of tea for the Yank. And for you, of course,” she added, in what was clearly an afterthought.
“Hey, that’s mighty kind of you, sweetheart,” Guy said. “Does your mom know you’re up here, though?”
“Naturally,” was the scornful response. “She made the tea, didn’t she? But it was my idea, and she let me bring it up all by myself.”
She had laid a small tray on the top step before attempting to wrestle with the door. Now, as Guy held the door open for her, she carefully lifted the tray up and stepped onto the roof.
“I’ve never been up here at night before,” she said, gazing around her. “It’s different, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Molly agreed. “Things often seem unfamiliar in the dark, even if they’re something you know well.”
“Like your bedroom,” Angela said. “After Mum turns the light out, but before you can quite get to sleep and you lie awake for what seems forever before she lets you get up again.”
“Exactly like that. But it’s still the same familiar place. You’re just looking at it differently.”
Angela continued her careful perusal and then whispered tentatively, her earlier bravado gone, “No monsters?”
“No monsters,” Guy said with complete assurance. “Unless you count me.”
Angela laughed. “You’re not a monster.” She looked down at the tray she continued to hold. “Mum says you probably would rather have coffee, but she doesn’t know how to make it even if we had any, which we don’t, so tea will have to do. Is tea all right?” she asked anxiously.
“Tea’s perfect,” Guy assured her. “Coffee’s for drinking in America. I always drink tea when I’m in England.”
“Oh. I didn’t know that. I’ve never been to America.”
“Well, maybe someday when the war’s over and you’re all grown up you’ll visit and you can have a cup of joe with me.”
Angela thought about that for a minute, then after girding her loins to disagree with her new friend, she finally said in a small voice, “I’d rather try the coffee, please, if that’s all right.”
Guy managed to keep the laughter in. “You can have whatever you want, sweetheart. That’s a promise.”
“Lucky girl.” Molly bent down to the little girl’s level. “Now, shall we take the tray over to the parapet and use it as a table? We’ve been sitting over there on the edge.”
“I’m not allowed very close to the edge when Mum’s not here,” Angela admitted.
“Well, since your mum let you come up by yourself with the tea and she knows we’re here, I expect it will be all right this once,” Molly said as she guided the small figure forward. “Did you bring a cup for yourself as well?”
“No, Mum said I could bring you some tea, but I had to come straight back down and go back to bed since it’s already dreadfully late. You’re to leave the cups outside the door when you leave, please.”
“All right, love,” Molly said. “We’ll do that. Perhaps you’d better be off then, instead of keeping us company. You don’t want mum to worry about you. Thank you ever so much for the tea. It was very nice of you to think of us. This’ll keep us lovely and warm.”
“You’re welcome. I wanted to bring you a biscuit as well,” the little girl confessed. “But I ate the last two with my tea. I didn’t think you’d like a slice of brown bread without any butter, which is all we’ve got left, so I just brought the tea. I hope that’s all right.”
“It’s lovely.”
Despite her admission that she was expected right back, Angela was clearly reluctant to leave.
“Would you like Guy to walk downstairs with you?” Molly asked.
“But his tea will get cold.”
“I’m sure it will be fine for a couple of minutes. I bet he’d like to escort you. He’s a proper gentleman, you know.”
“I’d like nothing better,” Guy chimed in. “Let’s go.” He held out his hand.
Angela took it willingly, and the two headed toward the door, leaving Molly to watch them with a smile on her face.
Guy didn’t take long. Molly had barely started her tea when he reappeared.
“Everything all right?” she asked.
“Yeah. Her mother was waiting for her at the door. I reckon she’s already been bundled back into bed, poor kid.”
“She needs her sleep.”
“I guess. But nothing’s worse than having to go to bed when you don’t want to.”
He sat down beside Molly and picked up his cup. It was going to be a long night. But he didn’t mind that. He’d weathered long nights before, and not always with a beautiful woman by his side. And at least no one was making him go to bed.
Chapter Five
The night deepened as they chatted, sometimes with animation, sometimes letting the stillness of the night envelop them. A sudden gust of wind swept across the exposed roof, a
nd Molly shivered into her coat.
“Here.” Guy was instantly on his feet. “Take my coat or you’ll freeze to death.”
“Not a chance.” Molly stepped back, beyond his reach. “I knew I’d be standing on a rooftop all night, and I’m dressed for this weather. You clearly aren’t. It’s bad enough you aren’t wearing a hat. I’m not taking your coat.”
“Nonsense, I’m really not cold. Besides, what you call winter over here hardly qualifies for the name. There isn’t even any snow on the ground.”
“Then I should be able to manage quite well without two coats,” Molly retorted.
“Ah, but I’m used to colder weather. You’re not, so you feel it more.”
“I’m used to this weather, which you are not. Besides, it was just a gust of wind that sent a shiver down my spine. I’m fine now.”
Guy looked at her in exasperation, despite knowing she couldn’t see his expression. Like smiling when talking on the telephone, he hoped that the intent would come across even if the visuals were lacking.
“You’re not going to take my coat, are you?”
“Not even if hell freezes over, to borrow one of your particularly apt American expressions.”
“You are a stubborn woman.”
“Well, I’m not going to apologize for it, if that’s what you’re hoping. And I prefer to think of it as determined.”
“Do you always get your way?” Guy asked, buttoning his coat back up. “I’m sincerely curious. It’ll save me a lot of time and energy in the future if I know for a fact that there’s absolutely no sense in arguing with you.”
“I don’t know how you can expect me to answer that question in any other than a positive way, so I’ll confirm your expectations and say ‘yes’ I always get my way.”
“That’s settled then.”
Molly was clearly mistrustful. “Why do I doubt that?”
“Perhaps you have a suspicious nature to go along with your pig-headedness,” Guy suggested.
When she didn’t immediately answer, he wondered if he’d gone too far. After all, he’d just met the woman. Even though she somehow made him feel as relaxed in her company as if they’d known each other for years, he didn’t really know anything about her. Had he offended her?
And then she spoke, her words reflective and grave.
“Pig-headedness. What a horrible expression. All beady-eyed and pink-snouted with a hint of whiskers. It’s almost enough to drive me into the occasional compromise just so I won’t be accused of it again.”
Guy felt awful. Such an image was obscene when applied to Molly. But before he could speak she continued, quite cheerfully, “No, on second thought, I’d really rather have my own way and live with the imagery. It’s a curious expression, though, isn’t it? I mean, the only pig-headed creature I can actually think of is Podgy Pig, and he isn’t stubborn at all.”
“Podgy Pig?” Guy was intrigued. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“Whoops, I forgot I was talking to an American. English children are raised on the adventures of Rupert Bear and his friends, one of whom is a pig named Podgy. He wears a brown checked suit and a black bowtie,” she added, as if that somehow made things clearer.
“Oh, that Podgy Pig.” Guy nodded sagely. “The one with the suit and tie! I was thinking of someone completely different.”
“Don’t be an idiot.” Molly snorted. “And don’t make fun of Rupert Bear and Podgy Pig. I’ve loved them since before I can remember. Although Pong Ping was always my favorite.”
“Don’t you mean Ping Pong?”
“No, Pong Ping, the Pekinese,” she explained, quite seriously. “Stop laughing. Didn’t you read comics when you were growing up? I can’t believe stories for American children were any more rational than the ones we read. Stop it,” she repeated, giving him a whack on the shoulder. “I won’t have you laughing at Rupert, Podgy and Pong Ping.”
Guy couldn’t help himself. He grabbed her hand before she could withdraw it and before he knew what he was doing, his arms were around her.
“I wouldn’t dream of laughing at them,” he said into her sudden stillness.
They stood silently. Slowly her hand came out of her pocket to rest on the top of his arm. The other one reached up to gently touch his cheek. He could see the glint of her eyes, those impossible brown eyes, as she gazed up at him gravely.
“Are you going to kiss me?” Her cool British voice gave him no inclination of how she felt.
“Is that what you want?” Guy wasn’t sure what he would do if the answer was no.
She didn’t reply, and he took that for her answer. Quickly he undid the clasp on her helmet and pulled it away, letting it drop to the ground without a thought. Free of its weight, she tilted her face up, her lips dark and full in the black night, and settled more deeply into his grasp.
It was invitation enough.
He bent his head toward her.
Her lips were soft and cold. Willing, but tentative. Her arms circled his neck, and he pulled her to him more tightly, body to body despite the thick winter clothing they both wore.
The night suddenly got a lot warmer.
The kiss didn’t last long. It was too sweet to be sustained, and they were too new to the sensation to change it into something more. As soon as Guy sensed Molly withdrawing, he broke it off.
But he didn’t release her.
And she made no move to pull away.
“Was that a mistake?” he asked.
“No.” Molly sounded quite sure, and Guy’s heart soared. But then she continued, “However, repeating it might be.”
His instinct was to tighten his grasp and prove her wrong. Fortunately his instincts weren’t his only functional part. His brain told him that would be a mistake, and he was smart enough to listen.
But the rest of him screamed in protest, and it took an almost physical effort to prevent what he thought of as his inner caveman from taking control.
“Why?” He tried to keep his voice even.
The reply was slow in coming. “Because I like to think of myself as a sensible woman.”
Guy was confused. “I don’t think kissing has anything to do with being sensible. In fact, it shouldn’t.”
“Exactly.” Molly pulled out of his grasp and he let her. The caveman was under control. She walked a few steps away and partially turned before continuing, as though it were easier to speak with him out of her view. But despite her movement the distance between them was only a matter of space. He still felt her closeness as she continued.
“I feel silly trotting out this tired old excuse, but whether or not it’s trite, it’s still true. There’s a war on. And as a result whirlwind romances are the order of the day. All of England is full of men and woman falling in love at first sight while listening to Vera Lynn singing about the white cliffs of Dover. One night is all it seems to take these days to become convinced that you’ve found the person you want to spend the rest of your life with.”
She paused and Guy seized his opportunity. “That’s only natural. Love and death go hand in hand. Time speeds up when the future is so uncertain.”
“But I don’t want to be…swept away. I don’t want to be desperate—to clutch at the first warm body that makes me forget the world for a moment in time. I don’t want to fall in love between sunset and sunrise as if there were nothing more to it than getting through another night in one piece,” she exclaimed.
“I’m not asking you to fall in love with me.”
Molly laughed, but this time it wasn’t amusement that he heard. It was closer to bitterness. And resignation. And maybe even a hint of wistfulness.
“Ah, but Guy, my handsome American, with your candy and your charm and your ability to wrap a frightened little girl around your baby finger, if you keep on kissing me, how could I resist?”
There was really no answer to that. At least not one Guy was capable of coming up with.
Chapter Six
Molly couldn�
�t believe what she’d just said. Thank God for the darkness. She wouldn’t be surprised if her cheeks were flaming like a Caribbean sunset. They certainly felt like they were burning, but at least Guy wouldn’t be able to see it. The trouble was he was so easy to talk to that, stupid as it sounded, she’d forgotten for a moment who she was talking to.
Well, she remembered now.
She hadn’t been this embarrassed since…She’d never been this embarrassed. Not when she was twelve years old and the elastic had given way on her knickers, causing her to trip over them in front of a crowd of onlookers as she ran for the bus. Not even when one of her schoolmates pinched her diary from her bedside drawer and read excerpts out to a howling group of girls at a party held in honor of her fifteenth birthday.
She hadn’t thought she’d ever live that one down.
This? This was worse.
“Molly, I—”
She tried to laugh and failed miserably. “Please spare my blushes and pretend I never spoke.”
“To hell with that. I guess you were right to doubt me when I said I wouldn’t do as I was told.” Guy closed the gap between them and wrenched her around to face him. He grabbed her upper arms with both hands before she knew what he was doing, forcing her to face him. Molly couldn’t see the expression in his eyes, but she could feel the tension in his body. She braced herself, unwilling to add cowardice to her humiliation, and raised her chin to confront him as he spoke.
“I don’t know where that came from, and I sure don’t know whether or not you mean it, but I’ve gotta tell you. I’m already hearing music and smelling roses. And if you want to blame it on the war or the darkness, you go ahead. It won’t change how I feel, no matter how short a time I’ve known you. And it won’t stop me.”
“You can’t be serious. Don’t be ridiculous.” She wondered for a mad moment if he was actually trying to make her feel better with his absurd declaration.
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