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A sudden darkening, caused by gathering clouds outside, brought Emily back to reality. She stood up and moved towards the table by the door where Mrs Marsden had left the telegram. She picked it up and read it twice, taking in every word. Placing it back on the table, her hand then moved to her left side, gently touching her dress over the point where she knew a dark bruise was still to be found. She winced. Rolling up her left sleeve, she could see the purple marks left by her husband’s fingers as he had grabbed her and thrown her across the bedroom only the previous week when she had refused to sleep with him the night before he returned to the front. She could still remember his cruel taunt, ‘Well, at least I can get a Belgian whore when I get to Ypres.’ Those had been the last words he had said to her. She hoped his death had come before he had the opportunity to search out any such girl. The thought of him dying whilst still frustrated brought a smile to her lips. A giggle grew. When Gary told Marion about it, he assured her that he would be back in time for the wedding…. even if he had to walk home. She drove him to the airport, telling him that she would wait to hear from him. He promised to contact her as soon as he settled in his Hotel. He was heading to Milan first and then back to Paris and hoped to be coming home within the next nine days. It was two day when she received her first call from him, and told him how much she was missing him. In the meantime, Marion continued arrangements for the wedding, meeting up with both Mick, Gary’s best man, and Michelle, her Matron-of-Honour. They were both of great support. One evening Mick came by the Condo to check on a couple of things that concerned him. Marion offered him a drink and they sat discussing the issues. As they sat there, Mick slid his arm around Marion and bent his head and kissed her on the mouth. She was startled! ‘What are you doing, Mick.’ ‘I have wanted you since you came into Gary’s.
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