Soldier's Valentine
“You cannot mean it?’ Mary Anne continued unbuttoning her bodice. Her shoes and stockings were already lying in a heap on the grass. ‘Of course I mean it. Come on. It’s a hot day and there’s nobody around. You can swim, can’t you? The water’s not that deep, and if you feel that embarrassed you can keep your drawers on.’ This particular Sunday of 1917 was warm and sunny, a truly bright summer day reminiscent of those of 1914 when the world had plunged into war.
All was peace in around the weir do...wn in Hanham Abbotts, a country area only six miles or so from Bristol city centre.
A peel of church bells sounded from up the hill in Hanham village and a cricket match was going on the green to the rear of Dundridge Lane, the sound of leather on willow sailing through the air.
The bus ride had been Edward’s idea, though they’d not been able to sneak off until after Sunday service and then only after promising to be back in time for tea.
Edward paused on the bank, watching her as she took slow careful steps to the edge of the rippling water.MoreLess
All was peace in around the weir do...wn in Hanham Abbotts, a country area only six miles or so from Bristol city centre.
A peel of church bells sounded from up the hill in Hanham village and a cricket match was going on the green to the rear of Dundridge Lane, the sound of leather on willow sailing through the air.
The bus ride had been Edward’s idea, though they’d not been able to sneak off until after Sunday service and then only after promising to be back in time for tea.
Edward paused on the bank, watching her as she took slow careful steps to the edge of the rippling water.MoreLess
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