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“It was no trouble.” Matthew’s lips twisted. “We’re swimming in the stuff, to tell you the truth. It almost feels…” He paused, a hard look coming over his face that Lily didn’t understand. “Wrong.”
“But at least you’re sharing it with us,” she said with a small smile. “Not everyone would.”
Matthew gave a brief nod. “Truly, I am glad to do it.”
“What have you been up to this last week?” Lily asked, trying to sound mildly flirtatious and feeling she failed. “Or should I not ask, because it’s all hush-hush?” She could not manage Sophie’s light, laughing tone at all. She sounded far too earnest.
“Just the usual. Drills and more drills. They want to keep us busy and not just kicking our heels. But we’ll be posted somewhere soon—things are a bit of a shambles right now, with so many divisions coming in at once, but I expect they’ll sort us out in the next week or so.”
“Are you bored, with the waiting? Or would you rather keep on waiting?”
Matthew cocked his head, considering her question.
“I don’t know which is worse,” Lily continued a bit breathlessly. “Waiting for the worst to happen, or when it really does.”
“Has the worst happened to you, Lily?” His voice was gentle, but she bit her lip guiltily anyway.
“No, it hasn’t, not yet, anyway.” She gave a little laugh, wanting to lighten the mood, to see him smile. “But it might, if my mother gives the strawberry jam away to someone on our street.”
Matthew laughed, a quick huff
of sound that delighted her because she knew instinctively how rare it was. “Now that would be a tragedy. But at least you’d still have the Spam.”
“I’ll tell you a secret,” Lily said, hardly able to believe she was teasing, even flirting. “I hate Spam.”
Matthew raised his eyebrows. “No!”
“Truly.”
“Should I take it back, then?” His eyes seemed to sparkle.
“No, Sophie likes it,” Lily said generously. “She can have it.”
Matthew laughed again and put his hands in his trouser pockets. Lily grinned, and he smiled back, and she didn’t think she’d ever felt so happy. And they’d been talking about Spam.
“I don’t think we’ll be here too much longer,” Matthew said after a moment, his voice serious once more. “All things considered.”
Lily bit her lip. “It’s really going to happen, then.”
Matthew nodded, understanding her meaning. “Yes, it will.” Briefly, the hard look came over Matthew’s face again. “But as to when, I have no idea. No one does. That is certainly hush-hush, and needs to be.”
“I don’t suppose it will be during winter, at any rate.”
“No.”
Carol bustled in with the tea tray, and Lily stepped away from Matthew, even though they hadn’t been standing very close. “Do you write to your family, Sergeant Lawson?” Carol asked as she set it down and began pouring. “They must be worried about you, so far away.”
“I write them,” Matthew answered briefly.
“And are they much reassured, that you are well looked after in our country?”
“I hope so.” There was something strangely bleak about his tone.
“Lily, why don’t you give Sergeant Lawson his tea?” With a rather officious manner, Carol handed the cup and saucer to her daughter, although she could have just as easily given it to their guest himself.
Lily handed the cup to Matthew, his fingers brushing hers as he took it. She risked a glance upwards, and his lips gave that lovely quirk she remembered from the night at The Berkeley, sending her heart lurching—and tea slopping over the cup onto her fingers.
“Oh….” She yanked her hand away, resisting the urge to put her burned fingers in her mouth like a child. “I’m so sorry. How clumsy of me.”
