But I don’t want to send a telegram and frighten you out of your wits, she had explained. So I’ll just turn up when I’m able.

As she prowled along the pavement, peering sideways at the shipping, she wondered again what she should do. If Sam had not re-joined the Navy and was still at the farm, there was their unresolved quarrel hanging over her head. If, on the other hand, he had re-joined the Navy, then she would not see him but would suffer afresh the agonies of fear which attacked her whenever she thought of him afloat on the treacherous sea. It would be almost worse to know he was in constant peril than to see his contempt because she had run away. If only the pleasant friendship they had shared could have been something warmer. But it was no good wishing; if she’d had any sense at all she would never have left him, but would have worked at their relationship until it was strong enough to bear whatever lay ahead of them.

Glenys sighed, looked up at the towering shape of the nearest ship, lingered for a moment, and then set off at an even faster pace. Life was full of ‘if only’s. She had missed her chance of happiness through her own foolishness, and now it was too late to repine.

Sam saw the slim blonde in the familiar uniform as he had done a hundred times before and knew it could not be Glenys; it never was. But he followed, knowing that this was his last chance before he was whisked off to join his ship. Sealed orders were the order of the day now, but rumour had it that they were bound for distant waters, probably the Med, to join the fleet there. Embarkation leave such as he had just enjoyed was only granted to men who were about to be stationed abroad. So if it really was her this time . . . Sam quickened his pace. As if conscious of his pursuit the girl also seemed to speed up. There was something in her walk, the way she held her head, the swing of her hips . . . and then he threw caution to the winds and began to run, desperation coming to his aid. ‘Glenys!’ he shouted. ‘Wait! Glenys Trent, will you turn round?’

For a moment he thought she had not heard, but just as he reached her she stopped and turned towards him, and it was Glenys.

Sam did not hesitate. He dragged her into his arms and began kissing her frantically. Forehead, nose, cheeks . . . mouth. When he had first grabbed her she had mumbled a protest and tried to pull away, and then suddenly her arms were tightly round his neck and she was responding to his kisses. When he finally released her, he was murmuring, ‘I love you, I love you, I love you! Oh, Glenys, I should have said that ages ago. What a fool I was. Say you love me too!’