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      ‘Hello, Olive,’ Archie Dawson said with that usual warmth in his kind, mellow voice as he held her securely until the cart had passed. ‘You look a little flushed, is everything okay?’ He used the latest expression that seemed to be doing the rounds due to the huge influx of American soldiers, who the young ones referred to as GIs on account of the initials on the padded shoulders of their very smart uniforms which stood for Government Issue.

      Olive smiled. She never would have imagined someone as upright and respectable as Sergeant Dawson using American slang, but it showed that he was keeping up with the times and that he wasn’t as buttoned-up as the impression he gave to the rest of the community. And if she was honest, she thought it sounded quite good coming from him.

      ‘Oh, I’ve just had a bit of a run-in with Nancy Black,’ Olive explained. ‘That woman would try the patience of angels.’

      ‘Oh, you don’t have to say any more, the old witch gave me chapter and verse about …’ He stopped abruptly and Olive could see he was trying to be tactful when he continued ‘… about Tilly and Drew carrying a suitcase and going off in a taxi cab. But we’ll talk no more about it,’ Archie Dawson said gallantly, taking his hand from her waist and giving a low rumbling laugh that seemed to soothe Olive’s bubbling indignation. ‘Suffice it to say, Olive, you are right, she would try the serenity of a saint.’

      ‘Oh, Archie.’ Olive smiled for the first time that day and in doing so felt all her tension slip away.

      ‘Not that I’m saying you are not a saint, Olive, you are a very good woman, hardworking, a pillar of the community …’

      ‘Oh, Archie, you flatter me, I’m nothing of the sort,’ she laughed in that carefree way he always provoked in her. ‘You will have my head swelling.’ Olive could feel little sparks of delight shoot through her. However, they were quickly followed by a heaviness that reminded her she was a busy widow and he was a respectably married man with a young, impressionable foster son who needed the close eye of a decent man to keep him on the straight and narrow. Suddenly, her attention was drawn to Nancy, who was now hurrying up the street resplendent in her carpet slippers.

      ‘Some of us haven’t got time to stand around indulging in idle chit-chat,’ Nancy said as she hurried by. ‘There is a queue forming outside the butcher’s shop; Mrs Finlay just told me he’s got oxtails on the go.’ In seconds she had passed them and was halfway up the street before turning and saying in a loud voice, ‘Oh, Sergeant! Was that your wife I heard calling just now?’

      Olive and Archie watched in stunned silence as Nancy scurried past them in the direction of the butcher’s shop. As she disappeared their gaze remained fixed on the corner of the street. Then, slowly, they turned to each other and, just for a moment, there was a shared intimacy as their eyes locked. But then the spell was broken when Archie’s attention was caught by a passing pigeon swooping down and landing on the road. It was an insignificant thing, but effective in reminding Olive she had things to do.

      The lingering connection between herself and Archie … Sergeant Dawson … all at once consumed her with an overwhelming feeling of guilt. However, if she was truly honest, only to herself, even the feeling of guilt was deliciously pleasurable. Turning away quickly now, afraid her thoughts would be plain for Archie to see, Olive took a deep breath, hoping it would calm her obvious raging flush of colour.

      They had never done a thing wrong. Nothing improper had ever occurred between them. But Olive had been a married woman. She knew the delights of a man’s strong arms holding her securely through the night. She knew the intimacy of an unexpected stolen kiss. And if she was honest she was finding it increasingly difficult these days to disguise the longing she felt whenever Archie was anywhere near her.

      But disguise her feelings she must as Archie was a married man and pillar of the community as well as a serving police sergeant who must uphold all that was decent in these tragic times, in a world gone mad through the ferocious needs of a madman. What would happen if they all gave in to their desires? Everything would fall apart in no time.

      Olive drew her fervent thoughts to a close. There never would be anything between them, she knew. There couldn’t be. He had a foster son who looked up to him and needed a stable home life in these uncertain times and she had the girls to look after.

      ‘Well,’ Olive said, uncomfortable now, ‘I’d better be off before those oxtails have all gone. Good day, Sergeant Dawson.’

      ‘Good day, Olive,’ Archie said, and she could feel rather than see his lingering look as she hurried up the street.