Читать книгу Sand In My Shoes: Coming of Age in the Second World War: A WAAF’s Diary - Joan Rice - Страница 50

Last night Eric and I went to see Cochran's (I thought disappointing) Lights Up. I'm beginning to be very fond of Eric. The trouble with youth is we are brought up to believe in and expect a Romeo and Juliet romance and that comes so rarely. If we were taught to expect nothing romantic from life, if we were only taught to see life intelligently, clear of literature's ideas of love, if we could only have adult contact with the other sex, we would be saved so much disillusion. If only we didn't want eternal love. My only hope is that by the time I get to be thirty I may have gotten rid of moonlight and roses and can enjoy living as a sophisticated, sane, unsentimental adult.

We had a taxi from Queens Bar to the Savoy and put our feet up on the tip-up seats opposite. Mine wouldn't quite reach.

He said, ‘Put yours on mine.’

‘They'll make your trousers dusty.’

‘It doesn't matter.’

He held both my hands.

‘Curse you.’

‘Why?’

‘For being you.’

‘I can't help it.’

I was stirred and roused so much so that I was unsatisfied and restless for some time after. I wondered what kissing with him would be like.