Page 109 of Fire Must Burn

‘Why courage?’

‘There is a reunion for my class coming up,’ he said. ‘I thought about attending for a split second, then rejected the idea.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I’m terrified of finding out how many of us, of my friends and colleagues, won’t be there because they didn’t make it through the war. I don’t think I could take that right now. I’d spend the entire time mourning the ones I lost, despising the ones who avoided going and finishing with an aftertasteof guilt for having survived. And I wouldn’t be able to talk about my own war because of the damn Act, so I’d stand around, holding my sherry, and lie about my career in Supplies.’

‘You could talk to me now,’ said Gwen quietly. ‘I’ve been cleared for it, according to the Brigadier.’

He gripped the steering wheel tightly for a moment, then got his breathing back under control.

‘Maybe someday,’ he said. ‘When I’m ready for you to hate me.’

‘I could never do that, Sally.’

‘You might, though,’ he said. ‘It may be better if we rip the plaster off quickly and find out what’s underneath.’

‘Please, not today,’ said Gwen.

‘No, of course not today,’ he agreed. ‘Let’s save Tony first. His bandages are real.’

They drove on.

‘Will Ronnie go to Oxford?’ he asked.

‘He’s seven, Sally.’

‘Decisions like that are made prenatally in some families.’

‘All of his grandparents – well, the three living ones – expect him to attend Oxford,’ she said. ‘As if I had no say in the matter. What am I saying? As if Ronnie had no say. As far as I’m concerned it will be his choice. He can go to Oxford, or Cambridge, or the Sorbonne, or rodeo school in Wyoming if he wants. He’s already wealthy and in line for a lordship someday. There’s no need for him to make old school tie connections if he doesn’t want them. As for the rest of my children—’

‘Wait, what other children? I haven’t noticed any crawling about since we’ve got involved.’

‘Hypothetically speaking.’

‘How many hypothetical children are you hypothetically going to have?’

‘That would depend on when I hypothetically start having them,’ said Gwen. ‘One is no longer young.’

‘You’re not even thirty yet.’

‘No, but it looms,’ she said gloomily. ‘From there, it is only a short leap into decrepitude.’

‘You do own a mirror, don’t you?’ he said. ‘Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale, et cetera, et cetera.’

‘Cleopatra died young.’

‘Older than you, self-inflicted, and she still looked good, by all reports. Don’t keep any asps about and you’ll be fine. Is Ronnie amenable to the idea of sharing his life with siblings?’

‘He’s in favour of it,’ said Gwen. ‘He wants a captive audience of smaller admirers who will do his bidding.’

‘When does he come home from the country?’

‘August. I’ll be taking time off from work for two weeks.’

‘Perhaps I could take him out to see a cricket match or something when you need a break,’ said Sally. ‘An all-male expedition.’

‘He would love that, Sally,’ said Gwen. ‘So would I.’