A spotlight lit the centre of the stage and the crooner leant in close to his microphone. As the band began to play, he began to sing: "There may be trouble ahead ... ." Couples got up from their seats, and soon the floor of the dancehall was a sea of swirling limbs. Everyone was dancing to forget the war that was raging outside.
"I love this song," Natalie whispered in her partner's ear. "It's just so perfect."
James tightened his arm around her waist. "I didn't know you were a fan of Irving Berlin," he replied.
For a moment their faces were illuminated by one of the roving spotlights, burning their expressions into each other's eyes. "Is that his name?" Natalie asked.
"The composer? Yes."
"Oh. I thought you meant the singer." James felt a pang of exasperation. It must have shown on his face, as Natalie laughed in his ear. "Of course I know. But there's a lot that you don't know about me."
"Well, given I only met you a week ago - yes. But here we are at a tea dance, in each other's arms."
Natalie pulled herself closer to James, crushing her dress against his uniform. She could feel him tight against her. "I have to be honest with you."
"What is it?"
Natalie took a deep breath. "I'm married. My husband is with Monty in North Africa."
James stumbled, but only missed a couple of beats in recovering his posture. "Won't he mind?"
"Only if he finds out. And I'm not going to tell him."
The crooner's voice rose again, sounding out above the band music. "But while there's moonlight and music and love and romance, let's face the music. And dance."
