Sharon stared at the black phone in Mother’s office. She toyed with the cord as she spoke into the receiver. “About what?” Michael asked. “Face to face.” Sharon thought about what he might be doing at this moment. All he would ever say about his work was that he “read the mail.” “I don’t see how at the moment. We’re short of people. We’re gathering information about another horrible mess on the continent.” Sharon heard exasperation in his voice and something else she’d not heard before: rage. “What’s happened?” “We can’t talk over the phone.” Sharon said, “Exactly.” “There’s a bloody war on!” Sharon took a breath and forced an artificial calm into her voice. “Yes, there is a war on. Yes, we are husband and wife. Yes, we need to meet face to face. And yes, the war can do without us for an hour or two.” “I’ll see what I can do.” Michael hung up. Sharon slammed the phone down. “Shit!” Mother was writing on his chalkboard when she came out of the office.
