Louise's Dilemma by Sarah R Shaber Page A

Registry! I look forward to working with you.’
    Wasted in the Registry! Yes, I was indeed. And this assignment would get me away from the files, even if only for a couple of days. The more work I could do that distinguished me from most file clerks, the more likely it was I might get another promotion and keep working after the war. How would Williams find out about Joe and me? Discretion was my middle name.
    ‘Thank you, Agent Williams,’ I said. ‘I look forward to working with you, too.’

FIVE
    ‘I don’t know,’ Joan said. ‘I’m not sure it’s such a good idea.’
    We edged our way through the crowd in the OSS cafeteria toward the only two seats we could see before someone else got there. I had to lift my tray over the head of an Air Force officer wearing an OSS patch and an arm sling, and Joan, who was a large woman, used her hips to clear a path. It was a miracle that we found two seats together.
    Of course, we shouldn’t have discussed my new assignment, but I trusted Joan like a sister, and we were within the OSS campus. And the noise level in the room added another layer of protection. We had to lean close together to be heard.
    ‘Why not?’ I said. ‘I am so frustrated working in those damn files every single day. Who knows when I might get another chance to work in the field.’
    ‘I know,’ Joan said, ‘but you understand the FBI looks at every single foreigner as a potential enemy. What does this man friend of yours do, anyway?’
    I had told Joan very little about Joe, and I couldn’t blow his cover. ‘He’s teaching Slavic languages at Georgetown University,’ I said.
    ‘Good God,’ Joan said, tucking into her jellied ham loaf, ‘he could be a Bolshevik!’
    I knew she was teasing, but I still defended Joe. ‘He is not. Actually, he’s lived in England most of his life. He went to university there, then taught at London University.’
    ‘Even better. British universities are hotbeds of Socialism.’
    ‘Stop it,’ I said, pushing macaroni and cheese around my plate. I wished I had selected the tuna casserole. Joan seemed to be able to eat anything, no matter how unappetizing, but if I wasn’t careful I’d lose so much weight that I’d need new clothes, and I couldn’t afford them! I spread the despised oleo over a hot roll, generously, to add calories.
    ‘Dearie,’ Joan said, ‘that is how the FBI thinks, you know that. If this FBI agent partner of yours learns you’re more than boarding in the same house with this man you could be fired. Or at least lose your security clearance!’
    If only Joan knew this particular FBI agent was the same man who’d warned me off spending time with a foreign national just a year ago!
    I couldn’t turn down this assignment. Williams wouldn’t find out about Joe. I’d just keep my head down for the few days it would take to clear up the postcard issue.
    Betty, a ninety-words-per-minute typist, eased into the chair that opened up next to us. I hadn’t seen her much since the OSS reorganization, she was stuck in a typing pool somewhere now, so I gave her a quick hug around the neck. She’d changed so much in the last few months! Once so khaki-wacky she’d gotten into serious trouble, she now seemed almost staid. She’d stopped rinsing her hair platinum and it had returned to its natural ash blonde shade. She’d moderated the color of her lipstick and nail polish too, from fire engine red to a softer pink. All because of a DC Metropolitan policeman in his forties named Ralph.
    She fluttered her left hand toward us, and we admired her engagement ring, a modest silver circle set with a blue stone.
    ‘How nice!’ I said. ‘When is the wedding?’
    ‘In the spring,’ she said, ‘when the cherry blossoms are blooming. Won’t it be pretty? My parents are coming, and Ralph’s brother and his family.’
    ‘I am so excited for you,’ Joan said. She was envious, too. Despite her wealth and a posse of friends, Joan didn’t have a