A Seaside Declaration

A wartime proposal by the sea sounds a most romantic way to pop the question! But for David and Louise, the hero and heroine of my novel, The Girl from Simon's Bay, the setting offers more than just a romantic backdrop. It is a place where they can meet away from prying eyes. Because this proposal - or declaration, since David is not free to offer marriage at that stage - is a dangerous one. He is white, she is coloured. Mixed relationships were frowned upon in the 1940s and, under apartheid, will be forbidden.

At first, they talk about the war at sea. David says it is like a blind chess match: you try to stay out of range of the enemy's ships while manoeuvring to bring your own firepower to bear. And it strikes me now, looking back to when I wrote the book, that the young couple are about to plunge into something of a chess game, too. Their opponents have more pieces on the board, all in attacking positions. David will have to extricate himself from a marriage of convenience, Louise must leave her family, her work, and the country of her birth for them to have any chance of winning the game.
And will David survive the war?

In the end, it is not global conflict or racial difference that determines the outcome of their love. I realise I have a responsibility to be an active father, not a ghost, David writes two years later. Please forgive me for allowing us to believe I could come back for you. 
Louise crushes the letter in her hand and sets off up the mountain.
There is a fire raging.
If she runs far enough she could escape the flames and fall into the sea.
The water will embrace her and erase the seaside proposal like the incoming tide erases footsteps in the sand...