Wally hadn't wanted
to fight for King and Country,
but he was called up anyway.
We hadn't been
getting on
too well recently,
but with him away
we get on better,
but I dread him
coming home
on leave.
Last time
he was on leave
we argued
after an evening
down the pub.
Nathan is playing piano
and singing at the club
up West; I sit and watch
and listen to him;
his wife Natalie
is beside me,
their daughter Nita
is staying in the country
with Nathan's parents
in case the bombs
come again.
Natalie sips her drink:
he sings dreamy,
she says.
Yes,
he does,
I say,
looking at her
beside me.
She smiles:
just wish he didn't
smoke so much.
I gaze at him
leaning lower,
his hands playing
on the keys.
I think he's
seeing someone,
she says quietly.
I sense my heart thump
and hope in the dimness
of the club,
she cannot
see me blush.
Surely not,
I say,
my voice concerned:
he loves you
and Nita too much.
She places her hand
on mine: I think he is;
wouldn't be the first time,
but he promised me.
She breaks off
and squeezes my hand.
Let me know
if you see him
with another,
she says.
I nod,
not trusting
to words.
There is applause
and we join in.
I shall have to
not see him
for awhile,
I muse.
He plays again;
his voice warm and silky
on the air.
I sip my drink
and stare.
Nov 24, 2018
Nov 24, 2018 at 1:05 PM UTC
Wally hadn't wanted
to fight for King and Country,
but he was called up anyway.
We hadn't been
getting on
too well recently,
but with him away
we get on better,
but I dread him
coming home
on leave.
Last time
he was on leave
we argued
after an evening
down the pub.
Nathan is playing piano
and singing at the club
up West; I sit and watch
and listen to him;
his wife Natalie
is beside me,
their daughter Nita
is staying in the country
with Nathan's parents
in case the bombs
come again.
Natalie sips her drink:
he sings dreamy,
she says.
Yes,
he does,
I say,
looking at her
beside me.
She smiles:
just wish he didn't
smoke so much.
I gaze at him
leaning lower,
his hands playing
on the keys.
I think he's
seeing someone,
she says quietly.
I sense my heart thump
and hope in the dimness
of the club,
she cannot
see me blush.
Surely not,
I say,
my voice concerned:
he loves you
and Nita too much.
She places her hand
on mine: I think he is;
wouldn't be the first time,
but he promised me.
She breaks off
and squeezes my hand.
Let me know
if you see him
with another,
she says.
I nod,
not trusting
to words.
There is applause
and we join in.
I shall have to
not see him
for awhile,
I muse.
He plays again;
his voice warm and silky
on the air.
I sip my drink
and stare.
A woman whose husband is fighting abroad, has had an affair with a singer pianist, husband of her friend in London 1942
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