The Englishman didn't phone the following day, or the day after that. On the Saturday morning, three days after I’d told him I wanted to finish it, I was woken up by a knock on my door.A strong light filtered through the half-closed Venetian blinds on my bedroom window. The weather was continuing to … [Read more...]
How I came to be in England – Part 20
It wasn't until June that year of the Falkland's War in 1982 that I and the Englishman finally managed to see each other. We'd been apart for four long months, during which I'd feared for my submariner's life my every waking hour. He telephoned me very rarely. When the news of the sinking of the HMS … [Read more...]