Free Forbidden Liaison: They lived and loved for the here and now by Patricia I. Smith

They are stupid rules if you ask me. We mix with each other every day, we have to or nothing gets done, and we do have to live alongside each other, whether we like it or not,’ he replied.
    ‘People are already talking. We were seen together on this beach,’ she informed.
    ‘I know. I have been constantly teased by my men for the past few days,’ he informed.
    Then he looked up at one of the two concrete gun-emplacements that sat on either end of the two spits of land enveloping the beach.
    ‘We were spotted by the men guarding the coastline,’ he said nodding at one of the emplacements.
    ‘Oh,’ was all Izzy said.
    ‘Why do you suppose you’ve not been arrested before now?’ he asked.
    ‘What do you mean?’ Izzy frowned.
    ‘Those men let you run your dog on the beach because it gives them respite from the boring job of continually looking out to sea. So they turn their binoculars towards the beach to catch sight of you, a very attractive woman. And they have said that when the wind blows to catch your skirt, they get sight of your lovely legs, and…’ He immediately stopped talking.
    ‘And what?’ But Izzy suddenly realised and covered her face with her hands, she felt totally embarrassed now. Naive didn’t come close enough to how she felt.   
    ‘You had no idea?’ Heinrich asked.
    ‘No,’ Izzy replied. ‘Is that why you came down here, to see for yourself, and…?’ she asked annoyed.
    ‘I had no idea you existed until I almost shot your dog.’
    Izzy turned to walk away, but he caught hold of her arm. He soon let it go as he could feel her recoil.
    ‘I am sorry, I will not come down here again,’ he said.
    ‘No, you come down whenever you want, it will be me who doesn’t come here again. I’ll exercise my dog elsewhere,’ and she began to walk off.
    ‘Izzy?’ he called. He couldn’t let her go like this: feeling wounded and humiliated.
    Izzy stopped dead in her tracks, her stomach lurching as he called her name. She began to cry.
    ‘Izzy?’ he said again.
    As she turned around he could see her tears as they flowed down her cheeks to drip off her chin onto her chest, and seeing her upset like that suddenly brought on an overwhelming urge to put his arms around her. He resisted.
    ‘Izzy, I want to see you again,’ he said.
    And she really wanted to see him.
    ‘Where can we meet?’ he asked.
    ‘You know Thorn Hedge Farm?’ she sniffled.
    Yes,’ he replied.
    ‘Carry on about a mile and a half along the coast road and you’ll come to a secluded cottage. I live there,’ she said.
    ‘When?’ he asked.
    ‘I’m there every day from four onwards.’
    ‘And if we happen to meet during the course of the day, should I ignore you?’ he asked.
    ‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘Might be better for the both of us,’ and she walked off, calling her dog, who obediently ran towards her.
     
    Heinrich was in a foul mood for days after that meeting on the beach. He snapped at everyone, including the cook. Busch had heard he suffered from chronic constipation so one day he left a small bottle of liquid laxative in Heinrich’s room. When Heinrich had found it he picked it up and just looked at the label. His first instinct was to sling it across the room. Instead he burst out laughing. He couldn’t stop. He was laughing so much he had to sit down on his bed. But the laughter soon turned into tears of sorrow. He reproached himself for being so abrupt and outspoken that day on the beach, and the Major had kept him so busy he’d had no time to go and see the woman he couldn’t get out of his system. He’d spent the past three years fighting, and his once amenable, happy disposition had been turned into a sour, cynical, battle-weary man, whose rough exterior needed smoothing out, especially in female company, and he so wanted to come across as the man he once was, not the man he had become.
    On the fifth day, Heinrich was at the dairy trying to sort out milk quotas when a milk lorry stopped