“Before going out to Burma, I went home on leave, only to find that my father was experiencing something akin to a nervous breakdown as a result of my transfer to the China-Burma-India Theater of Operations. I didn’t want to go home and possibly be the cause of a relapse. I talked the brass into getting me transferred to Parafield. I went to Australia under the condition that I have monthly weigh-ins, and that my weight had to be maintained between 145 and 150 lbs. That’s how I met Abby. I was sitting in an ice cream parlor in Adelaide, and she had watched me drink three malted drinks in a row. We struck up a conversation, and I asked her out. It was the first time I had imagined myself in love, and I fell pretty hard.”
I was surprised to hear that Abby had been his first love. It didn’t sound right. Michael had come of age during World War II when most of the social norms had gone out the window.
“Abby was your first girlfriend?” I asked in a tone of voice that showed my skepticism.
“Yes. She was my first girlfriend, but not my first — how shall I put this — love affair.”
I was sure I was about to hear another story of adultery, and I was right. Someone had told me that, after the war, there were so many divorces on the grounds of adultery that one of the archbishops told the faithful to forgive, forget, and move on.
“When I met Edith, I had never, you know, had sex,” Michael said. “She was ten years older than I was. Her husband was in the Navy, and she had a flat. This went on for about six months. She’s actually part of the reason I ended up in Burma.
“When I had been called up, I took aptitude tests and qualified for the RAF air cadet program. I wanted to be a pilot, but during my physical, they found I had aerotitis media, an inflammation of the middle ear, which meant I would be unable to adjust to pressure at high altitudes. Once it was determined I would not be allowed off the ground, I was sent to the RAF School of Technical Training at Halton, Bucks.
“When it became clear that it was only a matter of time before Germany was defeated, Churchill turned his attention to Asia, for the purpose of preserving as much of the empire as possible. Personnel files were combed to find those who had lived in India and spoke the language. I also showed up in a search for those who had qualified for the cadet’s program. They were starting a program in India where I would be trained as a medic and a pilot — something on the order of a bush pilot in Australia. The aircraft were small because they were designed to land and take off on very short runways. Each plane had two pilots who were also trained medics. The men on the ground would call for an evacuation, and we would fly in and get off as quickly as possible, providing medical care in the air. I was asked if I was interested in becoming a part of such a program. I jumped at the chance for several reasons, one of which was ending the relationship with Edith. The longer it went on, the worse I felt about it. Once I got to Burma, God did have his revenge.
“Like I said, I fell pretty hard for Abby, and as a result, I missed all of the signals that the relationship was not going to work out. Abby’s father had been critically wounded in the First War and had been receiving one hundred percent disability from the Australian government. Abby’s mother had to work to make ends meet, and a good deal of his care fell to Abby. When her dad died sometime during the war, she felt liberated from all the responsibilities she had taken on at such a young age. She was afraid that if she married me, she would end up exchanging one invalid for another.
“In November, my squadron was transferred to Malta. When I got to my new station, I was surprised at how quickly the hurt passed, and I questioned whether I had really been in love. I look at it now as a learning experience, one that will help me recognize the real thing when it comes along.”
Michael and I said very little on the way back to the house. But I was thinking about his relationship with Edith. What was a thirty-one-year-old married woman doing with a twenty-one-year-old young man? If God had truly believed that punishment was in order, I felt his wrath should have fallen on Edith not Michael.
Once we were back at the manor house, I told Beth I would like to go back to Crofton Wood. I was physically and emotionally exhausted, and I needed some time to think about all I had said to Rob. The angry tone of the conversation was my fault because I had been giving Rob a free pass during our entire relationship. Instead of dealing with problems as they arose, I had piled on all at one time, and I had come off as mean and petty.
Squeezing my hand, she said, “Yes, of course. Michael will drive you.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted Michael to be the one to drive me back to Crofton Wood. I was already confused enough about my relationship with Rob. I didn’t want to think about anyone else.
“About Rob,” Michael said as soon as we walked in the door at Crofton Wood, “I’m pretty sure you two had a dust-up before he left, and I’m afraid I might have been the cause of it.” He looked in my direction to see if I agreed, but I said nothing. “I admit I took advantage of Rob being the object of Eva’s attention to spend as much time with you as possible. If I did cause you a spot of strife, I apologize.”
A spot of strife? I liked that. It sounded a whole better than, “Why don’t you want to marry me, Rob?”
“Rob and I had had an argument about a month ago. Some of the issues came up on Sunday morning, and it was neither the time nor place to discuss them. So Rob went back to London.” But then I lost it, and tears just poured out of me. In a repeat of the previous evening’s last dance, Michael put his arms around me and pulled me to him.
After a moment, I gently pushed him away and said, “I’m sorry. I’m slobbering all over you.”
After handing me his handkerchief, he said, “I’ll gladly put up with slobber if it means I get to hold you in my arms.” He led me to the sofa, and turning to face me, he took my two hands in his.
“My behavior may seem odd to you, but I am working at a disadvantage. I have to leave for Germany tomorrow afternoon, and if I don’t do or say the right thing now, there’s an excellent chance I will never see you again, and I can’t let that happen.” After pausing for a moment, he continued, “If you and Rob were engaged, I might not be this aggressive. However, since you are not, I am not inclined to withdraw from the field.”
Finally, it was out in the open. Michael had been flirting with me ever since I met him, and I had flirted back. He had written letters to me with a romantic subtext, and despite being deeply involved in a relationship with Rob, I had neither encouraged nor discouraged him. And with this visit, when he took me into his arms, all pretenses had been put aside.
“Maggie, you can’t be all that surprised.”
“No, I’m not surprised, but I am confused. So much has happened to me in such a short time. Two years ago, I was in love with a guy from Pittsburgh until I realized he actually wanted to live in Pittsburgh, and then I wasn’t in love with him anymore. Last Christmas, I met Rob. I thought I had found the man of my dreams — the guy I wanted to marry. There was only one problem; he didn’t ask. Now, he’s going back to the States. And if history repeats itself, once Rob leaves England, I’ll never see him again. If that isn’t complicated enough, I spent most of Saturday night flirting with you instead of dancing with the man I was hoping to marry.” Covering my face with my hands, I said, “It’s too much.”
“Yes, I can see that,” Michael said, and he went to the liquor cabinet for a drink. He brought me back a scotch and soda. I was now having my second scotch — same house, different crisis.