Liz closed the door behind him, and looked at me sternly.
“Bloody hell, Lee. You’ve fallen for him, haven’t you? The priapic bastard has lured you into his lair to be one of his foreign territories. How can you be so damn stupid?”
Her words stung, but, to be fair, I could see exactly how it looked from her point of view.
I had two choices: I could say nothing, and leave her with the view that I’d been na?ve and duped by a man who was a Casanova in a US Marine uniform, a total player; or I could tell her the truth.
“It’s not like that, Liz,” I said, rubbing my eyes tiredly.
“Don’t give me that bullshit, Lee; you’re lucky I’m the only one who knows what’s going on. Otherwise, you’d be on the first plane home, and Chief Hunter... well, I don’t know what they’d do to him. Not that he’d care, but it would be your career down the drain. Is that what you want?”
“No, of course not,” I snapped.
“Then would you please tell me what the hell is going on, because I’ve never known you to behave like this – and it’s not like you haven’t had offers. Why him, Lee? Of all people – he’s shagged half the female staff at the UN. Is that what you wanted – just a young stud? What if he tells someone? Bragging about his Kabul conquest?”
She was really building up a head of steam: I had to head her off.
“We’re going to get married, Liz; as soon as his tour is over.”
Silence.
I waited.
More silence.
“Have you lost your mind, Lee!” she bellowed suddenly, making me jump. “Is this some kind of hormonal surge or midlife crisis? You’ve let him shag you a few times and you’re imagining he’ll marry you? You barely know him!”
“I know him better than anyone, Liz. I’ve known him since he was eight years old.”
She gaped at me.
“I think you’d better tell me the whole bloody story, Lee, because otherwise I’ll have to assume that one of us is barking mad, and right now my money is on you.”
I sighed. I’d never told anyone the full story before – not even my closest friends: guilt, sadness, and a wish to move on with my life had kept me silent.
“Fine. Make yourself comfortable, Liz.” I took a deep breath, trying to marshal my thoughts.
“I met my husband, David, when I was 17, and we married a month after my 19th birthday. He was in the Navy, so we moved around. We did a six month stint in San Diego after we’d been married about a year-and-a-half. Sebastian was the son of David’s CO. He was a sweet, lonely child – his parents were just monstrous – and we became friends. That’s all, I swear it. He used to come by after school and we’d talk about books and listen to opera. Then David got posted to Lejeune and that was that. But nine years later, we were back in San Diego again. Sebastian… found me. He was nearly 18 and God, Liz, he was gorgeous even then. At first, I just thought of him as the kid I used to know, but it soon became obvious that he… had other feelings for me.”
Liz was watching me intently, a deep frown of concentration on her face.
“And… one thing led to another. I’d been unhappy in my marriage for a long time. And Sebastian was just so loving. He was sweet and funny – fun to be with. And he encouraged me with my writing: if it hadn’t been for him, I don’t think I’d ever have become a journalist. Well, his parents found out… and because he wasn’t quite 18, it was a felony in California. His parents said they wouldn’t prosecute me if I left quietly and didn’t come back. The statute of limitations was three years: they threatened me, saying that if we tried to stay in touch, they’d have me arrested. Even if I didn’t do jail time, I’d have had a criminal record. So I stayed away.”