“Surely that’s just gossip?” I said, weakly. “I mean – if he had – it would have been a federal felony: a court martial, and then he’d have been thrown out of the Corps.”
“I’m just telling you what I heard,” said Liz, with a leer. “Suffice to say he was shipped out of Paris PDQ. Whatever the reason, they say he’s got an eye for the ladies.” She nudged me, a wicked look in her eye. “I imagine you’d be quite his cup of tea, Lee.”
“Oh no, I don’t feel like joining a harem,” I laughed, a little faintly. “I’m sure Chief Hunter has a parade of young women following him.”
I remembered that feeling very well.
If Liz noticed that my tone was off, she politely ignored it.
“Well, perhaps, but I believe his tendencies run in another direction – he’s known to like his women older… more experienced.”
I winced.
“They say he’s brilliant in the field,” she continued, unaware of the impact her words were having on me. “That’s why they put up with his behavior off the field. I heard a whisper that he was headhunted by military intelligence, but you know how close-mouthed your lot are about that. I wouldn’t be surprised if he were one of those men who’s a complete nightmare when he’s not doing something dangerous. You know the kind: reckless, a bullet magnet.” She tapped me on the arm. “They say he drinks.”
Her comment cut through me like a knife. Oh no. Not like Estelle – not like his mother.
With some bitterness I remembered her drunken rant the night I’d left San Diego. She’d called me a ‘whore’ and ‘slut’ and various other unpleasant names. And she’d slapped me hard enough to make my teeth rattle. She would have hit me again if Sebastian hadn’t stopped her.
The memories, long since locked away, came flooding back.
“Do you want to get coffee, Lee?” said Marc.
“Sorry, what?”
“Coffee, Venzi!” snapped Liz. “Yay or nay?”
“Oh, no, I’m fine. You guys go ahead.”
I wrapped my arms around my knees, physically holding myself together, as the intensity of my feelings floored me.
I took deep breaths and tried to keep calm, but my body was swamped by a rush of adrenaline and the desire for fight or flight overtook me. Right now I was favoring flight – except for the inconvenient fact that if I’d tried to stand up I’d have fallen over.
I heard someone return to the room and the blood drained from my face.
“You look a little pale, Lee,” said Marc, a hint of concern in his voice. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Just a bit… cold.”
He gave me a look that showed he wasn’t convinced, but accepted my explanation.
When the others filed back into the room, I hunched over my notes and hid as best I could. I was ashamed of myself. Why on earth couldn’t I get up, walk over to him and say ‘hi, hello, how are you’ like a normal person? I would do it, of course, I told myself: I would do it during the lunch break, when we weren’t surrounded by curious eyes.
Liz was the last to return, by which time I’d managed to pull myself together somewhat: or, as my father might have said, a horseman galloping by at a hundred yards wouldn’t have noticed anything amiss.
“Ready for round two?” Liz whispered loudly.
I could tell that she’d had more than coffee during the ten minute recess. I wasn’t surprised: drinking was one of the hazards that beset our way of life.
And then my plans to reintroduce myself to Sebastian with a modicum of privacy and dignity were blasted out of the water.
“Just a quick roll call before we go on,” said Major Parsons, “now everyone is here… so we all know who’s who.” And he proceeded to call out our names. I was last.
“Lee Venzi?”
I nodded and raised my hand.
I saw Sebastian’s eyes flicker across to me, then widen with shock as recognition set in, and, for the briefest of moments, he looked like the 17 year old I had known.