She smiled. 'You're a deserter, aren't you?'
That startled me. I started to deny it. But I stopped and said, 'How did you know?'
'You have to be a deserter or a jailbird to get a job here.' There was a trace of bitterness in her voice, and she bent over her ironing.
'What's the racket?' I asked.
She looked up then, her face stony and sullen. 'Ask Captain Manack,' she said.
I didn't say anything then. I turned and let the glow of the fire warm my belly through the blanket. A chair was set beside me and two hands took hold of my shoulders and pressed me into it. Her hands were still touching me as I sat down and her face was close to mine. It was a nice face, flushed with the heat of the fire and the lips slightly parted to show the gleam of white, even teeth. The lips had no make-up on, but they were red. I suddenly wanted to kiss them. God, it was ages since I had had a woman.
I think she sensed my urge for she drew quickly back, but her eyes sparkled and I knew she wasn't angry. She was a big girl, but well proportioned with firm breasts that thrust at the cotton of her blouse, so that I could see the outline of her nipples.
I looked quickly down into the hot glow of the fire. I heard her go back to her ironing. 'You've got fine shoulders,' she said softly. 'You're not a miner, are you?'
'Yes,' I said.
'You said this was the first time you'd been back in England since you were four,' she said. 'What were you doing over here at the age of four?'