‘Isn’t that your friend, that Reynolds boy?’ She gasped as she saw the photograph. It was Jack all right and the ‘Maid Elizabeth’. The ‘Ma...d’ was crowded with weary-looking soldiers. There must have been over thirty crammed into her twenty-four foot length. Jack was unmistakeable in his canvas sailing smock, his thick dark hair tousled by the wind. She quickly scanned the story. It was about the ‘little ships’ that had gone to Dunkirk and plucked the British Army off the beaches. Already this. “Room service,” came a voice from the corridor.“Just a minute.” He stood and pulled on his trousers. Marcia stirred and pulled the covers to her chin.He opened the door and the bellman brought in a tray. “Set it there,” Darren said, gesturing toward the table. He signed the slip and the bellman turned and departed.Marcia swung her legs from under the covers. She sat, nude, across from him as he set her breakfast before her. He reached across the table and squeezed her hand.“It was a wonderful. More

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