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

remarked.
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘They are lovely little girls,’ Izzy added.
    ‘Yes, they are.’
    Izzy sighed as she looked down. ‘About last night,’ she said.
    ‘What about last night?’
    ‘It was just…’
    ‘Just a fuck?’ Heinrich asked.
    ‘Yes. A moment of madness.’
    ‘And this morning, just oral sex?’
    ‘Yes,’ she said.
    ‘But you did like my tongue licking your cunt?’
    Izzy winced at hearing that word, but when she looked at him she realised he was being deliberately insensitive: purposely trying to shock her.
    ‘What’s suddenly changed?’ he asked.
    ‘You have a small family. It doesn’t seem right.’
    ‘So, if I didn’t have children, it would be acceptable?’
    ‘We are both married. It’s…’
    ‘Why have you suddenly got cold feet if it’s just a fuck?’ Heinrich asked.
    Izzy ignored his question and made for the door. Heinrich caught her arm.
    ‘Izzy, I come to see you because I like you. I like talking to you. I like being with you,’ he said letting go of her.
    ‘You don’t know me,’ she quickly retorted.
    ‘I know you’re as lonely as I am. And after last night, and this morning, I think we know each other very well,’ he replied.
    ‘That picture of me?’ she asked. ‘Why did you draw it?’
    ‘I did it from memory. Before the war I was an architect.’
    ‘That’s not what I asked.’
    Heinrich walked towards the window to look out. ‘You get a good view of the coastline from up here,’ he said, side-stepping the question.
    ‘Heinrich?’
    Heinrich turned. ‘We should never have started this, but we did, and now there’s no going back.’
    ‘Then we should end it,’ Izzy said. ‘Before we get too involved: before things get too complicated.’
    Heinrich walked towards her. ‘Is that what you want?’
    ‘Yes, it is,’ she said, her eyes filling with tears. And she turned and ran from the room, down the stairs, crying. It was the last thing she wanted, though, but knew it had to be done. Nothing good could come of it, and they were both being selfish for thinking it didn’t matter.
    She was about to go out the back to put the key back where she had found it when she heard Aunt Margaret behind her. ‘Why are you crying?’ Margaret asked. ‘Has he tried to…?’
    ‘No,’ Izzy snivelled. ‘It’s just my time of month, you know how weepy I get.’
    Margaret didn’t believe her.
    ‘Look, I really have to go,’ and Izzy picked up the empty basket and ran out.
    Margaret turned around. Heinrich had followed Izzy down the stairs and was now standing in the hallway.
    ‘What have you done to her? If you’ve done anything to her, I will…’ Margaret suddenly shut up.
    ‘You will what? Mrs Wilfred,’ Heinrich asked goading her. He didn’t like being suddenly cast aside. He couldn’t suddenly ignore the profoundly tender and passionate affection that would rise up in his belly every time he saw the woman he had only met a few weeks before. He felt attached to her now, and he couldn’t, so quickly, disregard the intimate acts they had indulged in.
    Margaret stared at him. She felt so helpless. ‘You’ve been trouble since the day you arrived,’ she added. Not only had she accused him of abusing her niece, to add insult to injury, she also inferred he was a trouble maker, yet he appeared so calm.
    ‘I am sorry you feel that way,’ Heinrich responded. ‘But I will trouble you no longer.’

Chapter Twelve
     
    The following morning Heinrich left the island by the first boat before taking the railroad through France, into Germany. It took him the whole day to reach home, having to change trains a couple of times. He gave his men no details, just told them it was on compassionate grounds: that was all: it wasn’t their business. Only the Major and the Oberst knew why he had to leave so quickly; it was they who had given him the telegram when he had called in at headquarters with the meat tally papers.
    The mood Heinrich was in as he sat on the