you see. It’s important. It’s hard for people to love you if you don’t love yourself.’
‘I do love myself. It’s just that . . . I guess . . . I know I’m not one of the pretty ones, and it’s not bothered me too much before, but I want him to like me back,’ Molly admitted.
‘He’s here, isn’t he?’ Marjorie smiled at her and left the small room.
Molly again studied her reflection in the glass, and for the first time she could remember, she did like what she saw. Her eyes had a certain sparkle, her blemish-free skin was bright and her tawny hair, while not neat, hung in soft tendrils around her face, which looked, if she dared use the word, alluring. It startled and concerned her how much his opinion of her mattered. It was a novel feeling and a new vulnerability that she was wary of. She was a girl old enough to know what she wanted, on the threshold of womanhood and all that it promised. Emboldened and with her heart pounding, she finally left the safety of the lavatory.
‘There she is!’ Geer yelled. ‘I told Johan you’d probably scarpered, run away via the back door!’
Outwardly composed and smiling, Molly hid the giddiness that threatened to burst from her. ‘I didn’t know there even was a back door,’ she laughed, ‘or I might have.’
‘Hello, M.’ Johan stood leaning against the postbox, gazing down at her with such intensity she knew it was longing, and all she could think of was that she never would have imagined someone as beautiful and incredible as him looking that way at someone like her.
‘Hello, you.’
‘I was wondering if you might like a walk?’ He smiled that wide, easy smile that was even better than it had been in her memory.
‘I would like that very much.’
‘Right, that’s enough!’ Geer screwed her eyes shut and shook her head. ‘I refuse to play gooseberry and will leave you two young things to it. Just take care, Joe, and happy Christmas. God, how I long for better times!’
‘Me too.’ Johan hugged his sister warmly.
‘And come home again soon, won’t you, darling?’ She kissed her brother on the cheek and paused only to squeeze the hand of her friend. Molly noted that neither she nor Johan had asked Geer to stay.
‘I thought the Embankment?’ He seemed a little nervous, buttoning up his woollen coat over his uniform and crooking his arm, through which Molly slipped hers as though they had done this a million times before and not merely once. Her frisson of joy as they made physical contact was more than she could describe.
‘Lovely,’ she murmured, falling into step beside this man in naval uniform. ‘This is quite a surprise. How long are you . . .?’ She couldn’t bear to discuss him leaving, but wanted to know how much time they had.
Johan looked at his wristwatch. ‘I have exactly fifty-four minutes with you.’
‘Fifty-four minutes? Could you be any more precise?’ She laughed.
‘You may joke, M, but I’m a stickler for getting the time right. It’s important when it goes so quickly.’
‘I guess so.’ She liked his quirkiness.
‘Actually, it will now be fifty-three minutes before I need to rendezvous with the car taking me back to . . .’
‘Back to where?’ Her question was automatic and they held each other’s eyeline.
‘Back to the coast from whence I have come.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘I often wonder if after the war we will all be so used to talking in code and withholding information that we might forget altogether how to speak plainly. Can you imagine: “Would you like a cup of that dark brew made from leaves freshly plucked from Assam?” – “My dear, you can just say the word ‘tea’ these days!”’
Molly laughed, the feeling like little bubbles of air floating up inside her. ‘“The coast” is vague enough, don’t worry. Although if I had to guess, I’d say it’s probably a coast somewhere in the UK as you’re driving there.’
‘A clever deduction, Miss Marple, and, yes, you’re right. I’m going down to Devon.’
‘Devon!’ she laughed teasingly. ‘Come on, Johan, what on earth could be that important to the war effort in Devon?’
His smile made his top lip and thin moustache hitch up at one side. He was to her quite beautiful and yet again there was that fold of longing in her gut. ‘Now I really should not have said that, so keep mum.’