Free Beneath Us the Stars by David Wiltshire Page B

the grate. ‘Well, you certainly got that going.’
     
    Later, in the kitchen, after a cup of tea, they prepared the vegetables for the evening meal. When everything was done Mary wiped down the table.
    ‘Right, that’s finished. What do you want to do now?’
    Bill put an arm each side of her, and gripped the table, trapping her against it.
    ‘How about this?’
    He found her lips with his own. Mary responded, her hands sliding up his back.
    After a while she broke off, and gently pushed him away. ‘Bill, let’s go for a walk before it gets dark.’
    He smiled.
    ‘Sure. It’s beautiful around here.’
    She wrapped a thick country coat around her, which she had found on a hook on the back door and they set off, feet crunching on the gravel until they reached the track. She led the way, nimbly climbing a stile.
    Tentatively he broke the quiet that had descended on them. ‘It’s a lovely evening.’
    She slipped her arm through his and squeezed, whichmade him feel better.
    ‘Yes.’
    He grinned down at her. ‘Feels good – like we’re an old married couple.’
    Mary flinched, took a deep breath. ‘Bill, I spent a sleepless night, agonizing about – about tonight. I want to – truly I do.’
    She tried again. ‘You must believe me – but, well, to tell the truth I’m a bit frightened….’
    Mary swallowed hard and continued ‘I haven’t done anything like this before.’ Feeling wretched she added: ‘I’ll probably be hopeless.’
    Bill stopped, drew her into him. ‘If you mean what I think you mean – neither have I.’
    She was incredulous. ‘ You haven’t?’
    ‘No.’
    Mary shook her head in disbelief. ‘But you’re American !’
    Ruefully he chuckled. ‘I had a very sheltered New England upbringing.
    ‘Oh.’
    She seemed relieved. ‘We’re both – new , then?’
    Embarrassed, he admitted: ‘Yes.’
    They resumed walking in silence. Bill glanced across at her. She seemed deep in thought, suddenly stirring to say: ‘I’m going to dress up for dinner – make an effort to be, well – special .’
    ‘You don’t have to.’
    Mary shook her head fiercely. ‘I do. I want it to be right – just as if we were on our honeymoon.’
    He protested. ‘But I’ve only got my uniform.’
    ‘That’s just fine. It’s the woman’s place to be – well as nice as possible for her husband.’
    ‘Aw honey – don’t worry about that. Anyway, where are you going to get more clothes from?’
    Mary looked slyly up at him. ‘I asked my friend. She said I could borrow what she’s got here. We’re the same size.’
    He stopped in his tracks. ‘I’ve got a hell of a lot to learn about you. So, would it be in order for me to give you some nylons now?’
    Mary teased. ‘Oh, so that’s all I’m worth is it – a pair of nylons, eh?’
    He protested. ‘No – no. I didn’t mean it like that!’
    She poked him in the ribs, and said in mock cockney: ‘I’m rather thrilled – it’s naughty – taking nylons from a Yank.’
    He gave her a gentle slap on the behind. ‘Good-time girl.’
    Mary reached up and pulled his head down to her.
    They kissed and she took his hand.
    ‘Come on, let’s go back.’
     
    Bill, looking spruce in his freshly pressed and brushed uniform, put another log on the fire and slapped his hands together to clean them.
    Mary’s voice carried down the stairs. ‘Fix yourself a drink.’
    He made for the cocktail cabinet. ‘OK. You want one?’
    ‘Not just now, thank you.’
    Bill checked out the bottles, found a whisky and poured a generous measure.
    He called up the stairs. ‘We got any ice?’
    She sounded exasperated. ‘No we do not . Drink it neat like the natives – room temperature, maybe with a little cold water.’
    Grumbling, Bill took a sip, sniffed, took another sip, then poured some more. He moved to the gramophone, found a pile of records and sorted through them.
    ‘Hey, there’s some Glenn Miller records – can we play them?’
    From the room above