Every year, the ever dwindling numbers of ex-service men, filed along the Mall, a proud march, to lay wreaths of poppies at the Cenotaph and pay their...respects. Each had a story of the last world war, holding memories of fallen comrades and friends; Small and large victories; amusing anecdotes and tales to enthral young children, or bore the elder, young men. Not all of the war had been about blood and guts, mud, hard rations or killing the Germans and the Japanese. Some of it had lighter. Ali leaned back and rubbed her belly in slow circular motions. Her small hands moved around and around, bringing a wide Cheshire grin to her face. She did this for a long time as we sat there enjoying the view and the natural calm. I was weighing my responsibility against the beauty of my companion, a tough fight going on in my head.Ali broke the silence saying the babies were kicking, pulling my hand in to feel. She moved it for me in the same circle around her globe, only 4 and a half months. More

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