He had also proved to Rose (and perhaps far more importantly, to himself) that he was not a jinx after all. Rose and he had faced and fought the enemy successfully together, and they had been gloriously victorious.
And now, with the taste of success sweet in his mouth, he knew that his life had changed once more and would never, ever be the same again.
In the two nights of mixed fortunes they had shared together, amidst the fire and blood and death in the cold wastes of the night, White was transformed from a nineteen-year-old boy into a veteran of war.
Rose had been instrumental in the making of that young man, and now he was everything to White, the extra-special older brother amongst their little band of brothers.
Watching Rose chat and joke with Barr, White felt a great wave of emotion wash over him. Gratitude, happiness and something akin to real love rushed through him.
He would go and eat his well-earned night flying supper, sleep for a short while, have a shave and a wash, and then look for Mandy. Perhaps share some elevenses with her?
The thought warmed him, and White smiled in pleasure as his inner thoughts turned to the girl.
What was it she’d said? “Get one for me, would you? If you do, I reckon you’ll have earned a kiss.”
And she’d smiled that shy smile at him and blushed a lovely shade of coral pink in wonder at her daring, to his great surprise and delight, and to her own mortification.
Well, he and Rose had accounted for two confirmed over the last two nights, so that must mean he’d earned two kisses, mustn’t it?
Of course, it must. He nodded solemnly to himself.
Two kisses! The wonderful thought of her promise fulfilled gladdened him.
And might a ‘damaged’ warrant a third kiss?
White reflected wistfully on the memory of her soft lips, that sweet voice with the echoes of merriment in it, and the daydreams of her danced warmly and wonderfully through his mind like a pair of butterflies skittering and entwining through a sunlit meadow carpeted thick with bright spring flowers.
Chapter 13
The girl opened her eyes, squinting against the golden rays of early morning sunlight which flooded the room.
Her husband turned from the window, hair tousled, that easy, open smile that she loved so very much on his face.
“’Morning, my sweetheart, I’m sorry, didn’t mean to disturb you.”
She looked at him for a long moment, her sleep-filled eyes adjusting so that she could see the firm lines of his lean body, the scars on his leg a pale pink and thickly ridged line now, the nick on his forearm just visible.
She eased herself onto her elbows and winked at him, “I don’t mind you, my darling, it’s the others.”
His grin broadened, and he waggled an admonishing finger at her in mock-disapproval, “So that’s what you get up to when I’m flying, you saucy little thing.”
“Oh, but you’re my favourite one. I like you the best.”
“It’s only to be expected of course. Don’t feel badly about being crazy about me, love, I’m me and you’re only a mere woman, after all. You can’t help yourself, not your fault, I’m simply irresistible. When they made me, they threw away the mould!”
She sighed softly and raised one eyebrow archly, “Is that so? I rather thought it was the mould that I actually ended up with!”
The young man gasped in mock-horror at her words, and then they laughed together, and he revelled in the blissful loveliness of the sound of her gladness.
She sat up fully, and the covers slid down from her shoulders to settle around her hips in soft folds.
Not a scrap of makeup, hair hanging loose and tangled and she was gloriously, incredibly, hauntingly beautiful.
He looked lower, and gazed in frank admiration and desire at her taut round breasts, their delightful brown areola and the proud, erect nipples. As always, the sight of her made the breath in his throat catch. “Wow! I thought it looked lovely out there, but I can see that the truly lovely wonders are actually in here with me!”
Despite the sleep still sticky in her eyes, she could not miss the twitch and stiffening of his penis as he stared hungrily at her naked body. How she loved that look in his eyes! Full of pleasure and wonder and weighty with raw need.
She tilted her head quizzically. “It’s a bit chilly over there, why don’t you join me?”
His eyes dragged reluctantly from her breasts to meet hers. “Is that an order Ma’am?”
“Yes, Flying Officer. I’m cold and I need someone to crank my motor. Seeing as you’re here, I suppose you’ll have to do. Why don’t you do the honours? I’ll give you a kiss and a cup of tea afterwards if you do.”
He closed the curtains, and walked back towards the bed, “Well, if you put it like that…”
She pulled back the covers, and he slid in beside her, pulling them back over them both.
“I missed you so much, Harry.”
“And I you, my dearest love. Young Chalky is a nice lad, but I’d much rather spend my days and nights with you.” He kissed her lightly.
“Just think about when it’s all over…” she grimaced. It was stupid to think of that uncertain future when the world was once more at peace. She regretted the words as soon as she had uttered them. Even to mention it was dangerous, as if daring fate.
Oh, please keep him safe for me, she prayed, I love him so very much.
Even in the shadowed darkness he saw her troubled face and he drew her to him, “What is it, my sweetest?”
“Oh, Harry, I wish that I could look after you all the time. I want to spend my whole life with you, I wish I had a thousand years with you, ten thousand, more, even.” and she hugged him fiercely.
“Only ten thousand?” he joked. Mm, her body felt very nice, very nice indeed.
Who’s a lucky boy, then?
I am. Very much so.
He pulled her body gently against his, moving to clamber on top of her, revelling in the feel of her bare skin rubbing against his, the way her thighs opened wide to grip his waist and hips between them, welcoming his body into her intimate embrace, his fingers gently running along the uneven edges of the cruel scars in the small of her back, the terrible injuries she had endured at Foxton, now healed but never forgotten.
The dreams of what could have been only hopeless imaginings, with just the reality of now.
His Molly had truly earned her medal that awful day; more than earned it, of that there was no doubt.
Who else could boast of the fact that they made love to a wonderful and beautiful holder of the George Cross?
He could feel her heart fluttering, and he kissed her lips again, tongue licking against her smooth teeth, one hand sliding lightly down her back to the arc of her hip, his fingers cupping the firm and delightfully rounded curve of one taut, smooth buttock, and he felt her fingers lightly grasp and guide him to her soft, warm wetness.
Forget those lost dreams, for there is only now. How I love you, you extraordinary girl.
Her eyes gazed lovingly into his and they gasped together in unison as his eager penis eased smoothly into her, her body gripping him tightly, and then he was thrusting deeply into her, the only sound their gasps, the willing slap of skin against skin, and the squelching of his rhythmic plunging.
Molly closed her eyes in enjoyment, arms embracing him close to her as she opened herself wider to receive him, gasping and sighing with pleasure and longing.
The cottage they were renting was at the end of the little village’s main street, not far from the parish church, and with a lovingly cared for rear garden that backed onto an open meadow.
They sat on the rugged grey stone wall that divided the garden from the meadow, and Rose gazed absent-mindedly up at the weather-beaten Saxon tower of the church. The air was fresh and raw, carrying the scent of the frost and grass into his nostrils.
“Penny for them?”
He awoke from his sated and peaceful reverie, and smiled gently.
“Oh, I was just thinking, sweetie, the church tower must have seen quite a few things in its time.”
Molly turned to look up at the tower, “Apparently it’s been here for over eight hundred years.”
His eyes widened momentarily, “Good Lord!”
“Yes, just imagine, all the people before us who’ve looked at it, loved and lived near to it.”
“And now we’re doing the same.” He took her cold hand in his, kissed it and then blew his warm breath onto it, holding it close to his mouth.
“Yes. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” she squirmed closer to him. Unlike the stone wall in the fields near the Horse and Groom, this one was more evenly arranged, and his backside was quite comfortable as he drew her to him.
“What, my darling?” he placed her hand on his chest, shifting the lapel of his coat to cover it and protect it from the chill.
“About their lives, what was important to them, who they loved?”
“So many people, so many lives.”
“Mm. And now it’s us. We’re the ones living here. And I’m the one loving you.”
Despite the brightness of the day, it was still so cold, and he gazed at her flushed cheeks and the pinkness of the tip of her nose.
“No, my sweetest, I’m the one loving you. I’m the lucky one. Blessed by God with you.”
She smiled gravely at him and kissed him lightly. “Whatever you say, Harry.”
Molly looked back across the meadow. “Just imagine how they would have lived. Livestock sharing their houses, the stench! Phew! Can you imagine living like that, in a big shed with a goat or a cow?”
His lips quirked, “Must have been awful. But then, I don’t need to imagine, my darling. I’ve got you, haven’t I?”
She pulled away from him, “You cheeky devil! Are you calling me a smelly cow?”
He laughed, but said nothing.
With a pout and a severe look in her eye, she tossed her hair in his face and settled against him again.
“You’re an absolute beast! And I don’t know why I love you, you terribly horrid man, but I do.”
“A fact for which I am extremely grateful, my dearest Molly.”
There was a low grumble that increased in volume to a sudden howl, and a low flying Hurricane shot across over the trees that bordered the meadow at its far end like a thunderbolt and was gone in an instant.
She watched him as he stared to where it had vanished, eyes faraway and wistful. “Is it alright, Harry?”
He returned her gaze calmly, “Perfectly, my flower. I couldn’t stand by whilst others were flying and defending us against the old Hun. What kind of man would I be? Not the kind of man a girl like you deserves. And in the course of it, I’ve made new friends. Young Chalky was so excited when we nailed our two Jerries. I was pleased as well, of course.”
Molly’s expression was thoughtful. “Have you seen the way he looks at you? If he was a woman I’d have pulled his eyes out by now. With a bent, rusty nail. Through his ears. I actually feel a bit jealous that he spends so much time with you. How odd is that? He adores you. I think you’re some kind of hero to him.”
Rose cleared his throat self-consciously, “Yes, well. He seems to think that I saved him from the life of a skivvy, but it was only a matter of time before he’d have been made operational. Just happened to be me he crewed up with. He’s a nice lad, and good at what he does, thank goodness.”
He changed the subject. “Tell me about Mandy, I can tell Chalky’s keen as mustard on her.”
She smiled fondly to herself. “Actually, I think it’s mutual. Before I came off duty, I saw them holding hands beside the Turbinlite hanger. Chalky had a big silly grin on his face, but I think Mandy’s was even bigger. Soppy old things.”
“Well if he’s getting a little bit of what I had a couple of hours ago, I’m not surprised he’s wearing a soppy grin.”
Molly coloured, and thumped his chest lightly. “Harry Rose! You are a very naughty man.”
“That may be so, you fabulously gorgeous creature, but I’m the naughty man who gets to share your bed and to kiss your beautiful lips,” and to prove the point he kissed her again, lips lingering against hers.
“I’ll have to keep an eye on her.” She mused, “I know how much being in love can rather upset one’s whole demeanour and behaviour.”
“Molly, love, Chalky doesn’t talk much about himself. Could you do me a favour and check out his background, give me some idea of what makes the boy tick? Have a squint at his personnel file for me, would you?”
Rose picked curiously at a piece of yellow lichen. “I want to know all about him.”
“Alright, Harry, but I shouldn’t, not really.” She looked ill at ease, “It’s just a wee bit improper of me in my position as Dimple Heath’s senior WAAF to read poor Chalky’s file, just so that I can tell you what it says.”
“You needn’t if it concerns you, my darling.” He soothed, “I daresay the lad will tell me about himself in time, if he wants to.”
“No, of course I’ll try and find out. It’s hardly giving secrets to the enemy, is it?” she smoothed her skirt absently, “And he is your operator, after all. You ought to know more about him.”
He hugged her and she smothered his face with light kisses, hugging him with a passion to match that of their earlier intimate embrace.
Her eyes were bright, and he marvelled at their beauty, the light iridescent in her irises. The eyes he dreamed of, the ones he craved to see when his own would not work.
Her voice was a whisper, “Oh, Harry, I love you so very much. I’m so happy that I could cry.”
He gently grasped her chin, “Then I am the luckiest man alive twice, firstly because it is a girl like you who loves me so very much, and secondly because it mirrors the love that I feel for you. I could never love another. You are the best thing that could have ever happened to me. I adore you.”
Rose looked up at the sky, and placed a hand over his heart, “Thank you, God.”
The grass rustled as a light breeze whispered through it, as if in response to his heartfelt words.
She shivered and stood, “I think it’s getting chillier. Come on, Harry, let’s go inside, have some lunch and listen to the radio. I managed to appropriate some butter and a nice piece of cheese from the Stores.”
He grinned easily, “Appropriate? Really?”
“Yes well, the Assistant Section Officer in charge of catering said she didn’t need them anymore. Terribly kind of her, really.”
He touched her cold cheek lightly with one finger. “Oh, I’ll say, very!”
She took his hand and he followed her as she led him back into their little cottage. He switched on the radio, carefully stoked the stove, and sat down at the kitchen table as he waited for the wireless to warm up.
The fragrant smell of logs burning in the stove filled the warm room cosily, and he sighed with contentment.
While he waited, Rose idly watched Molly bustle neatly around the little kitchen, amidst the diligent clatter of crockery and cutlery.
Absently his fingers toyed with the corner of her brother’s letter.
Edward had survived a tour of operations flying Hampdens, receiving an extremely well-deserved DFC and an equally deserved promotion to Flight Lieutenant in the process, and was now working in something ‘hush-hush’ at the Air Ministry. He wrote to his sister twice a week and adored her completely.
Perhaps even as much as I do.
She smiled her beautiful smile at him as she placed the butter dish and a bottle of milk on the table.
“You just sit there and relax, Harry. All that sitting down and pondering outside must have drained you. Take it easy, why don’t you? I can manage by myself.” She added pointedly.
“It wasn’t the sitting down that’s drained me so much, gorgeous,” he countered cheekily, and Molly blushed.
“You horrid man, you’re a brutish monster.” She laid a plate of thickly cut slices of fresh bread before him, accom
panied on the side by a generous dollop of mouth-watering pickle chutney.
The company and love of an intelligent and beautiful woman, delicious fresh food on the table before him, and the peaceful comfort of a warm and cosy room on a cold early spring day.
He closed his eyes and sighed in contentment, the smell of the fresh bread and her fragrance cheering him.
On the stove, the kettle began to whistle.
Mmm. I could get used to this…
Chapter 14
The sun was long set as Bruno von Ritter pulled back smoothly on the control column and lifted his Junkers 88 into the night sky, the dwindling airfield at Gilze-Rijen fading rapidly into the darkness behind them.
And then it was gone, as if it had never existed, just sea and sky and land blended together into a grey-black collage of indistinct shapes. Before them lay another flight, one that would hopefully be more productive than those of the last three days.
The leave in Paris had been delightful, the shows an eye-opening spectacle, and there’d been girls, plenty of them.
But they were instantly forgettable the following morning, for it was the girl on the base that caught his eye instead.
She was slim, petite and beautiful, a Luftwaffe nursing auxiliary, a Luftwaffenhelferin.
Her name was Anja, she was twenty three, and worked in the base hospital. He had met her at the awards ceremony when both Rudi and Mouse had received their Iron Cross first class medals at the hands of the legendary Generalleutnant Kammhuber.
Bruno had himself received his Eisernes Kreuz, his Iron Cross First Class, after shooting down his sixth bomber, and now had his sights set on a higher target.
Before the ceremony, Mouse suffered a metal splinter in one finger when checking the rear facing machine guns of their Junkers, and after the welcome ministrations of the nursing staff, invited a gaggle of them to the ceremony.
Bruno was listening to a tale of the previous war being recounted by some old fart of an Oberst, trying to look animated and interested, when he caught sight of her.
He was immediately smitten, by her sweet smile and the thick mane of dark hair swept back from her smooth forehead, arched eyebrows above smouldering eyes and a gentle but knowing smile. She was something special, and she knew it.
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