A Mortal Sin by Margaret Tanner

afternoon.” His lips covered hers in a long searing kiss, and their bodies strained close together.
    “Oops, sorry,”
    Paul stepped back quickly. A tall thin boy with dark curly hair grinned at them.
    “I’m Rob, you must be Paul.”
    Paul shook the grease-stained hand that was thrust at him.
    “Your hands, Rob, they’re filthy,” Daphne scolded.
    “I’ve been tinkering with an old motor Dad gave me. Know anything about cars, Paul?”
    “A little.”
    “You can help me. I’m making myself a car.”
    He was over six feet tall and rather gangly, almost too thin. He would be a big man later on when he filled out, Paul thought.
    “How are you, Sis? Let’s go. Mum’s sure to put on a spread. A fellow could starve around here. She’s been cooking all week, wouldn’t let me touch anything except for a couple of burnt cakes.”
    “Serve you right.” She gave him a little punch. “You would have eaten the lot.”
    The three of them went back to the sitting room together, where Paul and Daphne sat on the couch while Rob dropped himself carelessly into an armchair.
    Paul rose to his feet when Mrs. Clarke entered carrying a tray.
    “I could have helped you, Mum,” Daphne said.
    “It’s all right, darling you look tired. Afternoon shift must be quite wretched.”
    “Oh it’s all right. Night shift is worse.”
    “Milk and sugar, Paul?”
    “Yes thank you, one sugar.” He ate a piece of jam roll, complimented her on it, and glanced with interest around the room.
    “I’m home, dear.”
    “Frank, you’re just in time for tea.” Mrs. Clarke stood up and started across the room.
    Paul watched the tall, grey-haired man enter the room. Daphne had said he was an army officer during the Great War, and he still had a military bearing. He stood well over six feet in height, with the same slimness as his children. No wonder young Rob was so tall.
    “Dad!” Daphne flew into his arms and they hugged and kissed until he disentangled himself.
    “Now, where’s this young man you want me to vet.” His smile took the sting out of his words.
    “Dad, please. Paul, this is my father.”
    They were close, he noticed immediately and he felt a twinge of envy, their relationship was so different to the one he had with his father.
    “How are you, Mr. Clarke?”
    “Frank, please. I’m happy to meet you, Paul. I hope you enjoy your stay with us.”
    “Thank you for putting me up.”
    “Daphne’s welcome to bring any of her friends around,” Frank said.
    “Never brought a man friend before, though,” Rob chipped in with a grin. “Always silly, giggling girls.”
    He neatly fielded the cushion his sister threw at him.
    “At least my friends aren’t grubby like yours.”
    Paul enjoyed their light hearted banter.
    “I’ll go and give Mum a hand,” Daphne said as she left the room.
    “Go on, Dad, ask him his intentions.”
    “All right, son, you’ve said enough. Do you follow the cricket, Paul?”
    “Yes.” They chatted in a desultory manner about the cricket and soccer.
    “What do you think of this Adolf Hitler fellow?” Frank asked.
    “He looks like Charlie Chaplin with that stupid little moustache.” Rob got up and goose-stepped around the room.
    “It’s no joking matter, son. The man is a bigoted maniac. I read where he has forbidden German children to even speak to Jewish ones.”
    “I’m not sure what to make of it but my father is convinced there’s going to be a war.” Paul grimace. “He doesn’t agree with England and France’s policy of appeasement at all costs. Reckons you can’t trust the Germans.”
    “I agree with him, I had enough of them in the war, fanatics some of them. Still…” Frank rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Your Prime Minister might be trying to buy England some time to prepare for war.”
    “Well, before I left England I did hear that the government have started building air-raid shelters, and school children have been issued with gas masks as a precautionary