ANONYMOUS LOVE

Narrated by James Lees-Milne, UK:

   My military career was inconspicuous and I was dissatisfied with my achievements, despite my high aspirations. Our town was under the threat of bombing raids. I was recently discharged from the hospital after having been wounded in one of the raids. That was the time when a romance blossomed in my life in the most unexpected way.

   Late one night, I was trying to telephone a friend when my line crossed with that of a lady. I heard her saying to the operator, “My number is Grosvenor 8829 and I want a Hampstead number. Instead, you have hitched me up to someone in Chelsa, who doesn't want to talk to me at all."

   "Oh, yes I do," I interrupted, for I liked her mellisonant voice immensely. Instead of being cross, this lady was very good humored about the muddle. After mutual apologies, we said good-bye.

   Two minutes later, I dialed again and this time, too, instead of getting on to my friend, I got hooked up with her again. It was clear that there was some crossover in the lines and our lines were destined to link up. This time, we talked for twenty minutes. "Why do you want to talk to someone after midnight, anyway?" That was the question we asked each other simultaneously. Then we discussed the books we were reading and of course, the war. I finally said, "I don't remember enjoying a talk so much for years." She admitted it was fun and we had pleasant dreams before we bade farewell.

   All through the next day, I found myself thinking of her musical, soft and seductive voice. I thought of her intelligence, her spontaneity, her sense of humor and her ever responsive enthusiasm. The recurring echoes of her voice in my head haunted me. In the midnight, I got up and with trepidation dialed the number. I was greeted by a sweet 'hello!' Instantly at the other end. And, we continued our conversation where we had left off last night. Within minutes, we were joking and laughing as though we had known each other for years. This time, we talked for forty-five minutes. She was just mesmerizing. The conversational blocks two strangers often encounter when they meet, had melted so rapidly between us. When I suggested that we ought to introduce ourselves, she hesitated. She said it might spoil everything. Our conversation that day ended with a promise that we would reveal our identities when the war ended.

   The war continued unabated and so did our conversations. In the course of time, I learned that she was 36. At 17, she had been married to an offensive man from whom she separated. Her only son had recently been killed while flying. He was 18. He meant everything to her and she loved speaking volumes about him. Once, she described him as being as beautiful as the dawn. I imagined how beautiful then she must be.

   Love is blind and it is rather more beautiful as long as it remains blind. We grew to depend on each other. There were no topics we did not touch. No matter how late, we regularly called each other. If I didn't call her or couldn't respond due to any reason, she complained that she couldn't get to sleep due to loneliness. As soon as we finished talking, I would look forward to our next talk. At times, I found it unbearable not seeing her. I would threaten to jump into a taxi and drive to her at once, but she would not give in. She said she won't be able to see our love diminished if we noticed any discrepancies after we met. That would kill her.

   Whenever there was a bad raid at night, we would ring each other. In those anxious and grim days, our love blossomed unfaltered and life had a sense of fulfillment. Our views on most subjects matched, including those on war. There was no reason why this love won't continue smoothly.

   One night, I dialed her number. Instead of a clear, healthy ring-tone, there was a prolonged screech. It meant the line was out of order. The next day, the same sound was repeated. The next day, I begged the Directory Enquiry Office to give me the address of Grosvenor 8829. I requested them to find out what happened to the concerned telephone lines. At first, the Directory Enquiry people would say nothing. Finally, an operator broke the ice. With a sky-high sigh, she said, “Three days ago, the house to which this number belongs received a direct hit......"

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