Mark’s credentials for the position were faultless. His mother’s friend who held the position of Trade Ambassador in the U.S. Embassy in London had no trouble in persuading the Ambassador to take him on as legal adviser to the Trade Commission. The position was critical to the role of the Trade Commission. It required a thorough understanding of British Mercantile Law combined with quiet diplomacy. Mark felt at home having both these skills.

It was the beginning of Springtime. During the first few months Mark spent a sizeable amount of time on matters which British industry depended heavily in its relationship with American financiers. He rapidly became well known for his analytical observations of subtle legal issues effecting both sides of the Atlantic.

Spring in London is not as showy as it is in the countryside. Yet the knowledge that Winter was asleep for a year revived the pleasant disposition of people generally.

There were customary private parties and formal Embassy functions which Mark attended. His fluent charm and handsome face soon became sought after by the women that did not attempt to hide their attraction to him. Yet he remained sufficiently aloof to maintain this condition and yet not give the false impression that the contact was not intriguing. The outcome of this unintended disposition preserved his rapport with the quota of available males in these gatherings.

Mark had a singular passion for horses. He regularly visited the stables belonging to one of the principal members of the business syndicates with whom he dealt and often spent weekends enjoying his riding hobby. Mark found the experience of leisurely country life as a pleasant relief from the metropolitan activities and sought these invitations as frequently as they were offered.

On this particular occasion the invitation was extended by Maj. General Sir Percival Braithwaite K.C.B. whom he had together with daughter Sarah at one of the parties in London. The General himself was a stuffy aristocrat with a bloated air of self-importance, a load mouth and an insatiable thirst. Sarah was not unusually attractive but a magnetic physical attraction compelled Mark to develop this casual meeting. Unlike the other women at the parties, Sarah showed no more than a casual interest in Mark. She was intelligent, tall and bosomy yet slim in build and unusually feminine. Sarah was an only child. It was therefore surprising to Mark to find that she was an independent person who would not allow herself to be spoilt by her parents. She too had a passion for horses which was probably why she accepted Mark’s increasing attention towards her.

She dressed well but usually casual. Her manner was tractable but firm. Her most feminine character which was prominent amongst her other assets is that she always looked at people’s eyes unwaveringly. She gave the impression that no one else mattered and that the words and that the words of the person she was listening to were like drops of wisdom conferred on her. Yet despite this, her previous relationships with other men never lasted long. It was not apparent as to who broke the association by somehow it was gradually discontinued.

Mark looked at his watch and thought about this as he prepared himself to keep his appointment with her this evening. It was getting late and he was looking forward to seeing her again.

When he turned up at the country club most of the guests for the evening had arrived. As he drove into the generous grounds surrounding the main building, he caught a glimpse of Sir Percival making his way hurriedly through the bushes. Rather odd he thought, but immediately dismissed the image from his mind as he made his way inside the Club.

The main room was crowded and already a friendly atmosphere surrounded the large gathering. An inconspicuous band played softly in the background. In fact it was hardly audible above the idle chatter and movements of the guests. The surroundings were typical of a select English country club.

Many of the guests were in medium size groups and a couple on their own was rare. Yet he had an uncontrollable urge to be with Sarah on her own. It was not that groups bored him, at least not in these surroundings. It was more of a possessive craving to surround her in an impenetrable shell, the key to which, he and only he owned.

As he entered the main hall his eyes quickly surveyed the crowd. A deep sense of urgency was almost perceptible in his eyes when he could not find her immediately. The urgency was soon dispersed when, from the corner of his eye he saw her on one side of the room talking to one of the older male members of the club. No doubt a friend of her father’s he thought. He moved unhurriedly towards them, acknowledging the greetings of other with whom he had become acquainted. He slowly drifted across to Sarah and was temporarily distracted by the sight of a middle-aged woman whose face seemed familiar. He suddenly recalled where he had seen her although her manner at the time was altogether different from the breezy vision he now beheld. The last time he became inquisitive about the face and her manner was on a train clutching a bag At that moment Sarah’s searching eyes met his.

They walked hand in hand, their fingers hardly touching. There was no necessity for conversation. Whatever was needed to be said was being transmitted and acknowledged through the lightest of touches. He gently caressed her hair as she looked up to his face with closed eyes. He kissed her cheeks and as he did this he tasted the salty tears. He instinctively knew they were not tears of regret, but tears usually expressed by a deep emotion of happiness.

Their lips brushed lightly and like the eruption of a volcano whose dormant power had boiled beneath the surface, suddenly exploded into a storm of passion, unleashed without restriction. Yet a certain gentleness ran like a thread throughout the entangled web of consummate passion. There was no regret, only uncontrolled desire. The desire to be as one.