showing. Delphine momentarily glimpsed the little boy hiding inside the man. ‘I thought resistance to interrogation was something you had to learn for work, not for when you’re out with a friend.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Just a friend?’
‘For the moment, yes. Later on, well . . . who knows? Butwhat’s that English phrase? Let’s not run before we can walk?’
She’d been determined not to sleep with him that first time. Not because of any old-fashioned morality – she wasn’t saving herself for her wedding night – she just didn’t want to be another notch on a regimental bedpost. But at the end of the evening it had seemed the most natural thing in the world to go back to his house with him. It wasn’t even discussed: they both knew that was the way it was going to be.
That had been eighteen months ago and they’d been going out together ever since, though she was sometimes uncertain if she knew him any better now than she had on that first date.
After they’d been seeing each other for about four months, Tom had called her at work. ‘I have to go to my parents’ house at the weekend. It’s their wedding anniversary. You can come too, if you like.’
‘You don’t sound very keen on either the idea of the anniversary or of me coming with you,’ she’d said.
‘No, I really want you to. If I sound uncertain, I guess it’s just because I’m not sure how much you’ll enjoy it.’
‘Well,’ she had said, with a smile in her voice, ‘it will satisfy my curiosity at least.’
18
‘ WELL, NOW YOU’VE met my parents, do you want to call the whole thing off?’ Tom had joked, as they shared a pot of coffee in Delphine’s flat the morning after they’d got back. It was almost the first chance they’d had to talk. A motorbike ride is never a good time to have a conversation, and by the time they’d reached Hereford it was two in the morning.
‘They weren’t so bad,’ she said. ‘Like all parents, I’m sure they just want the best for you.’
‘Perhaps, but aren’t I the best judge of what that is?’
‘They do have a bit of a point. If you could have your pick of careers or live the life of a country gent, why be a soldier – even an SAS one?’
‘How many times do I have to say this? I like it.’
She nodded over her mug and held out a hand. ‘And if it costs you your life one day?’
‘It’ll still have been worth it. You know the old saying, “Better to live a day on your feet than a lifetime on your knees”?’
She inclined her head, realizing that she had a mistress to compete with. ‘I’ve never heard you speak with such intensity about anything before.’
He gave a rueful smile. ‘Maybe it’s because you’ve never asked before.’
‘Oh, I’ve asked,’ she said. ‘It’s just that you’ve never heard me.’
‘Don’t get me wrong,’ he said. ‘I’m not planning to be Lawrence of Arabia for ever. I’ve seen too many grizzled old sweats droning on about how things were different – and better – back in the day, and how the youth of today doesn’t know what soldiering is. The moment I stop enjoying it and start enduring it, I’ll quit. There are plenty of other things I want to do with my life, but for now there’s no place I’d rather be, and no job I’d rather be doing.’
‘And if the price of that is that you wind up in a wheelchair, like some of your friends?’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t treat that risk lightly. But I know it can’t be eliminated altogether. Shit happens, and I know that there’s a chance it may happen to me. It’s the price of admission, if you like, to what we do. But it’s not going to stop me. I volunteered. No one forced me to do this job.’
‘And what about the normal, everyday things in life – buying a home, raising a family, cooking the dinner, cutting the grass – where do they fit in?’
‘At the moment they don’t. But that will change one day,’ he added hastily, as he saw her lips tighten
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Just a friend?’
‘For the moment, yes. Later on, well . . . who knows? Butwhat’s that English phrase? Let’s not run before we can walk?’
She’d been determined not to sleep with him that first time. Not because of any old-fashioned morality – she wasn’t saving herself for her wedding night – she just didn’t want to be another notch on a regimental bedpost. But at the end of the evening it had seemed the most natural thing in the world to go back to his house with him. It wasn’t even discussed: they both knew that was the way it was going to be.
That had been eighteen months ago and they’d been going out together ever since, though she was sometimes uncertain if she knew him any better now than she had on that first date.
After they’d been seeing each other for about four months, Tom had called her at work. ‘I have to go to my parents’ house at the weekend. It’s their wedding anniversary. You can come too, if you like.’
‘You don’t sound very keen on either the idea of the anniversary or of me coming with you,’ she’d said.
‘No, I really want you to. If I sound uncertain, I guess it’s just because I’m not sure how much you’ll enjoy it.’
‘Well,’ she had said, with a smile in her voice, ‘it will satisfy my curiosity at least.’
18
‘ WELL, NOW YOU’VE met my parents, do you want to call the whole thing off?’ Tom had joked, as they shared a pot of coffee in Delphine’s flat the morning after they’d got back. It was almost the first chance they’d had to talk. A motorbike ride is never a good time to have a conversation, and by the time they’d reached Hereford it was two in the morning.
‘They weren’t so bad,’ she said. ‘Like all parents, I’m sure they just want the best for you.’
‘Perhaps, but aren’t I the best judge of what that is?’
‘They do have a bit of a point. If you could have your pick of careers or live the life of a country gent, why be a soldier – even an SAS one?’
‘How many times do I have to say this? I like it.’
She nodded over her mug and held out a hand. ‘And if it costs you your life one day?’
‘It’ll still have been worth it. You know the old saying, “Better to live a day on your feet than a lifetime on your knees”?’
She inclined her head, realizing that she had a mistress to compete with. ‘I’ve never heard you speak with such intensity about anything before.’
He gave a rueful smile. ‘Maybe it’s because you’ve never asked before.’
‘Oh, I’ve asked,’ she said. ‘It’s just that you’ve never heard me.’
‘Don’t get me wrong,’ he said. ‘I’m not planning to be Lawrence of Arabia for ever. I’ve seen too many grizzled old sweats droning on about how things were different – and better – back in the day, and how the youth of today doesn’t know what soldiering is. The moment I stop enjoying it and start enduring it, I’ll quit. There are plenty of other things I want to do with my life, but for now there’s no place I’d rather be, and no job I’d rather be doing.’
‘And if the price of that is that you wind up in a wheelchair, like some of your friends?’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t treat that risk lightly. But I know it can’t be eliminated altogether. Shit happens, and I know that there’s a chance it may happen to me. It’s the price of admission, if you like, to what we do. But it’s not going to stop me. I volunteered. No one forced me to do this job.’
‘And what about the normal, everyday things in life – buying a home, raising a family, cooking the dinner, cutting the grass – where do they fit in?’
‘At the moment they don’t. But that will change one day,’ he added hastily, as he saw her lips tighten
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