Free Some Day I'll Find You by Richard Madeley Page A

change of tactics, a rare thing for him. Not in the larger picture, of course, but in tonight’s opening manoeuvres.
    After they had ordered, and Diana began to tell him about her life at Cambridge, confiding a little of her confusion about who she was and what she wanted out of life, James decided that he
should pull back; extend the timetable. This girl was shrewd and quick (she’s probably as clever as I am, he thought) and she’d become suspicious if he rushed things. With the war going
nowhere in a hurry, he probably had more time at his disposal than he’d first calculated.
    Even so, there was no harm in unrolling a little of his strategy tonight.
    The chance came when Diana suddenly put her hand to her cheek and exclaimed: ‘Oh, my goodness! Here I am clattering on and on about me, and I haven’t asked you anything about you!
And what you’re doing is
so
much more important. You said you thought Adolf’s forgotten about us. I know you were joking, but do you believe the war might just, well,
evaporate?’
    That was the last thing he wanted her to think. It would remove all the required urgency from the equation. Diana needed to believe he was facing dangers that, if not imminent, were fast
approaching.
    ‘Well, don’t misunderstand my remark earlier. We
are
desperately bored and frustrated and longing to get stuck in. But I think things will start to hot up any day now, in
every sense. One of the reasons it’s been so quiet is because the winter was incredibly long and hard, and even worse over on the continent. But despite this lot,’ he gestured at the
snowflakes whirling past the window, ‘spring is pretty much here. I think he – Hitler, I mean – will make the first move. Then we’ll all be crying our eyes out for the
phoney war.’
    Diana looked curiously at him. ‘Are you frightened? My brother seems extraordinarily sanguine about the whole thing.’
    James sipped his wine. This part had to be exactly right; this was where he planted the seed.
    ‘I’m not sure if I’m frightened or not . . . It all seems so unreal. The other day in the mess, my squadron leader said: “When it starts, boys, it’s going to be
kill or be killed. Don’t forget that. Get the other bastard before he gets you.” And straight away the thought jumped into my head: some commanding officer somewhere in Germany right
now is probably saying exactly the same thing to
his
pilots. So no, I’m not quite as sanguine as your John is, I’m afraid. But that isn’t the same as being scared . . .
Oh, I don’t know, I’m blethering on a bit. But I do know one thing for certain.’
    He waited for her to ask.
    ‘What’s that?’
    James took another sip of wine.
Careful, careful
.
    He reached across the table and placed his hand gently over hers.
    ‘It seems to me that we can’t live the way we used to, people like you and me. There may not be the time. You asked why I was so keen to come up and see you last year and I told you
the truth, but I left something out.’ He paused. This part had to be exactly right.
    ‘It’s simply this,’ he continued slowly. ‘I didn’t want to waste any time. I don’t mean to sound melodramatic or vainglorious, but I am a realist and I know
it’s perfectly possible that I won’t come through what’s ahead. Before the war we’d have had all the time in the world to get to know each other, to see if we were suited.
Now we have to move along more quickly; put things to the test much earlier than we might once have. I think everyone our age does these days.’
    Diana stared at him. ‘I’m not sure I—’ she began, but he gave her a quick smile and shook his head.
    ‘Don’t worry, I’m not making an improper suggestion. Far from it. And I’m not about to tell you I adore you and only want to be with you until the end of my days.
You’d think me mad, and you’d be right. I hardly know you. All I’m saying – and I’ve had the winter to think about this – is