I saw his eyes drift to the mirror and stiffened as I realized he was looking at my reflection. He looked back at me with a reassuring smile. ‘I’l... have to get a second mirror sometime to demonstrate how lovely your backside is,’ he teased. I tried to give him a reproving look, but he’d made me smile. He picked up the tank top and panties. ‘I would never ask you to do anything that you didn’t want to do,’ he told me seriously. ‘Would you be comfortable wearing these?’ I stared at him gratefully. The silver screen could not convey the disease, shit, fear and boredom of warfare.He had watched the ruins of buildings rebuilt, almost in unseemly haste, as if to purge the lingering scars of destruction from sight, from memory. Mental scars could not be expunged from the mind so easily. Time is the only healer, and that, not very successful.Every year, the ever dwindling numbers of ex-service men, filed along the Mall, a proud march, to lay wreaths of poppies at the Cenotaph and pay their. More

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