by Vicki Beeby
‘Funny name. What does it mean?’
‘The Two Crows. On Kampa Island, beneath the Charles Bridge.’ He seemed to drift into reverie as he described the delights of the club that seemed to serve the best beer, play the best music and be frequented by the loveliest girls. ‘I went there on my last night in Prague, to say goodbye to the place, when I knew I would have to escape.’
May braked to negotiate a narrow humpbacked bridge and pondered how to turn the conversation to the goings-on of his squadron without making her interest too obvious.
As it turned out, Karol himself gave her the opening she was looking for. ‘I hate to leave my squadron a man short, though.’
‘You seemed to manage when your CO was injured.’
‘That’s true. I was a great help to Flight Lieutenant Mašek while he was in charge.’
‘That’s…good.’ May tried to remember which one was Flight Lieutenant Mašek. Wasn’t that the man Jess had danced with at the midsummer dance? Milan. That was the name. It seemed like centuries ago but was only a few weeks in reality. Come to think of it, she’d seen Jess in his company a few times since then. Odd that she’d never said anything about it. Evie talked about Alex all the time, and May had seen how Evie and Jess smiled when she found herself mentioning Peter’s name at the slightest prompting, but she couldn’t seem to stop.
‘I worry about leaving now. They depend on me, and bad things are happening.’
May was jolted from pleasant thoughts of Peter. ‘Bad things? What kind of bad things?’
Karol leaned closer to May. As though there was any chance of this conversation being overheard, May thought in amusement. ‘I heard a rumour that our CO’s injury was no accident. They say his guns were jammed deliberately.’
May gripped the steering wheel tightly. Evie had been adamant no one but Alex, his fitter and the station commander knew of the sabotage. How on earth had Karol heard about it? ‘What? Who would do such a thing?’
Karol shrugged. ‘There are always rumours of traitors or infiltrators. Perhaps there’s one at Amberton.’
‘I haven’t heard any rumours.’ She didn’t believe what Evie had told her was a rumour, so didn’t feel she was telling a lie.
‘Maybe not. I didn’t believe it at first. But two days ago, my guns jammed. It was a miracle I wasn’t shot down.’
‘Did you report it?’
‘Yes, but I don’t think anyone believed me. The fitter swore he couldn’t find anything wrong. Of course, he wouldn’t if he was the one who had caused it in the first place.’
May’s heart pounded. Wait until she told Evie and Jess the progress she had made! Evie had been rather down since she’d not been able to uncover anything new. With luck, this should cheer her up. She finished the drive to the railway station wondering when she’d be able to see Evie to tell her the news.
The London train puffed into the station mere moments after they’d arrived, so Karol grabbed his suitcase, dashed onto the platform and disappeared into a carriage. Evie glanced at her watch and saw she still had nearly an hour before Peter’s train was due to arrive. She straightened her hair and wandered into the little café opposite the station, sitting at a round table beside the window. When the waitress came over, she ordered a cup of tea and a Chelsea bun, then watched the station entrance for Peter’s arrival. Her mouth watered when the delicious treat arrived, together with a cup of good, strong tea. She had discovered soon after arriving at Amberton that this café served the best Chelsea buns she’d ever had. She didn’t like to enquire too closely where they got the ingredients for baking, since most were rationed. Cutting off a corner, she popped it into her mouth, closing her eyes in bliss as the mingled taste of cinnamon and sugar flooded her mouth.
‘May I join you, or do you two want to be alone?’
May gave a start, dropping the teaspoon in the saucer with a clatter. She hastily rose and saluted when she saw Peter standing by her chair, a crooked smile tilting one corner of his mouth. ‘Peter! I mean, sir. I thought you were arriving on the six-ten.’
Peter waved her back into her seat. ‘Peter,’ he said firmly, sitting in the opposite chair. ‘I’ve already told you I don’t hold with all this saluting business off-station.’
‘But the regulations—’
‘I won’t report you, if you won’t.’
A reluctant smile tugged at her lips.
Peter leaned back and gave a satisfied nod. ‘That’s better.’ He signalled to the waitress to bring the same as May was having. ‘I want to see if the buns are as good as you make them look.’
When the waitress left, Peter cut his bun into neat quarters and tasted it. ‘It is good,’ he said, after savouring it carefully, ‘but it’s more fun watching you eat yours.’
May felt her cheeks flame. The others at Amberton thought Peter was always deadly serious, but that was because they only saw him on duty. May knew that deep down lay a wicked sense of humour and he enjoyed teasing her. Not in a cruel way, but a gentle banter that May secretly enjoyed despite the way it made her blush.
‘Why are you early?’ She blurted the first thing that came into her head to cover her embarrassment.
‘The business I had didn’t take as long as I’d imagined.’
‘Oh.’
‘Aren’t you going to ask what my business was?’
‘It’s nothing to do with me.’
‘I think it is.’ And his gaze burned into her.
Suddenly her chest felt so tight it was a struggle to draw breath. ‘Why?’
Chapter Twenty
Evie trudged up the stairs to the schoolroom on heavy legs. The only light was a dim bulb on the landing and its position cast more shadows than light across the stairs. She stumbled twice, unable to lift her feet high enough. It was times like this she wished the Waafery was next door to the Ops Room rather than over a mile away down dark lanes. It didn’t take long to get there on her bike, but when she only had a two-hour break between watches, every extra minute of travel was a minute less of sleep before she had to drag herself back out again. Night watches hadn’t been so bad in June and July, but now they were at the end of August, the nights were noticeably drawing in. By October she knew she would have to do what Jess had chosen to do tonight and spend the hours between watches on one of the narrow camp beds in the room next to Ops. But she shuddered to think of spending the whole night in The Hole; it was so stuffy down there, and she was always aware of the weight of earth over her head. At least by coming back to High Chalk House between watches she got a chance to breathe fresh air.
She managed to climb the last steps without tripping again and pushed open the schoolroom door. May would already be fast asleep in her bed, so she tiptoed across the room, avoiding the floorboards that creaked. She had just put her hand on the nursery doorknob when she heard a sniff coming from somewhere in the schoolroom. She froze. There it was again.
‘May, is that you?’
‘Yes.’ The word ended on a wail.
‘What’s happened? Hang on, I can’t see a thing.’ Evie felt her way to the window to check the blackout, then groped her way along the wall until her fingers found the light switch. Yellow light flooded the room, making her blink. When her eyes adjusted to the light, she looked for May.
May was huddled in one of the armchairs, wrapped in a blanket, her eyes red and swollen. All Evie’s exhaustion fell away.
‘What’s wrong? Are you ill?’ Evie hastened to crouch by May’s chair and pressed a hand to her forehead. It wasn’t over-warm.
‘Not ill,’ May said, drawing shuddering breaths. ‘Just… Oh, Evie, Peter is joining another squadron.’
‘What? How do you know?’
‘He told me.’
‘Oh, May, I’m sorry.’ Evie’s knees were threatening to give way, so she drew one of the dining chairs next to May and sat down, wrapping an arm around May’s shaking shoulders. She wished Jess was there. Jess was always much better at finding the right words to
say. Evie would have been far more comfortable had May asked for help solving a mathematical equation. She sought for words of consolation. ‘We all know we could be transferred at any time. We should be prepared to move wherever the RAF or WAAF send us.’
May’s sobs only increased. Great. Now Evie had reminded her that their tight friendship group could be broken up. ‘At least you know he’s on the ground. As safe as anyone can be these days.’
‘No! You’ve got it all wrong.’ May scrubbed at her eyes while Evie stared at her, startled by the anger in May’s voice. ‘He isn’t being transferred against his will, and he won’t be safe on the ground.’
‘What—?’
‘He requested the transfer.’ May had got her voice under more control, but it throbbed with an undercurrent of distress.
‘Why would he do that?’ Evie gazed at May, feeling helpless. She’d been glad for May’s budding romance with Peter. From what May had told her about her family, she couldn’t blame her for being wary of men, but she’d been sure Peter Travis’s determination and undeniable good heart would win May round in the end.
‘He’s going to fly fighters.’
Evie felt a jolt of shock. ‘Can he do that?’
May nodded. ‘If Douglas Bader can fly with two legs missing, Peter should have no problem with just one.’
‘Should? It isn’t definite? I mean, he hasn’t actually—’
‘He passed his medical board today. That’s why he was in London.’ May gave a laugh with absolutely no humour. ‘I’m the first person he told. He’ll have to pass flight training again, but I’m sure he will.’
‘I don’t understand him. It’s not as if he’s sitting at home doing nothing.’
May hugged her knees to her chest. ‘He feels he’s not pulling his weight. Wants to do something that makes a difference.’
Evie groped for words of comfort, but couldn’t find any. She knew all too well the burden of dread that came from having a loved one in danger, and nothing could ease it until the war ended or… No. She wouldn’t think of that.
‘He makes a difference in Ops,’ she said. ‘There are plenty of people alive today who wouldn’t be if he hadn’t sent out fighters at the right time.’
‘I know. I tried to tell him.’ May glanced down and fiddled with the corner of her blanket. ‘I keep thinking…maybe if I’d given him some encouragement, showed him I returned his feelings.’
‘No!’ Evie grasped May’s hand, closing around it and the blanket and willing her to believe what she said. ‘Peter’s a decent man. I’m sure he can see you love him, even if you can’t bring yourself to say so. This is entirely his decision. Nothing to do with you.’ Evie sighed. ‘He’s a pilot too, remember, even if he can’t fly. It can’t be easy, sending men out day after day, knowing some won’t return.’ She didn’t say so, but also suspected Peter might feel ashamed that his injury had been caused in a peacetime accident rather than while defending his country. Evie couldn’t see it made any difference – he had been wounded in service of his country even though it hadn’t happened during the war. But then she found men alien creatures. She resolved to talk to Alex about it. He and Peter were good friends and he would never let Peter put himself at risk for the wrong reasons.
May sobbed with gratitude when Evie told her.
‘Alex won’t be able to stop Peter leaving,’ Evie warned her. ‘Not if Peter’s made up his mind. Anyway, it sounds like Fighter Command have already approved the transfer.’
‘I know. But I would feel better if Peter left knowing how valued he is.’
‘I think there’s only one person he wants to hear that from.’
May blushed and hung her head. ‘I know. I just… I can’t.’
Evie set her jaw. If she met May’s father and brothers right now, she swore she would wring their necks. ‘Give it time. You’ll get there.’
May sniffed. ‘If he’s still alive by that time.’
And there was nothing Evie could say to that. They’d both seen how quickly death could strike. No one liked to talk about it too much, but everyone was aware that each day could be their last.
After a while, Evie rose, easing the stiffness from her back. ‘How about a cup of cocoa? I’ve got to go back in about an hour, but I could do with a drink and a bite to eat first.’
May flung the blanket aside and rose with a cry of dismay. ‘I’m sorry, Evie. I shouldn’t have kept you up. And you working all hours.’
‘You come first, May. What else are friends for?’
May gave a shaky smile. ‘You’re a brick, Evie. Come on, I’ll help you make the drinks.’
Once the drinks were made, they sat at the kitchen table, nibbling squares of carrot cake that Evie had brought from home and sipping their cocoa. They could hear a low murmur of voices from the Rose Room, but thankfully no one disturbed them in the kitchen. Evie and May sat in silence for a while, listening to an owl hooting in the trees behind the house.
May blew the steam from her cup. ‘It’s amazing how cocoa can make everything feel better. I am sorry I kept you from sleep, though.’
Evie, feeling revived by the sweet cake, waved away May’s apologies. ‘You would do the same for me. Besides, there’s nothing like a midnight snack to perk me up. I’ve got the night off tomorrow, so I can catch up then.’ And she’d be able to snatch a couple of hours between watches. ‘What would really brighten my day would be news that the saboteur has been caught. You can’t believe how scared I’ve been, knowing Alex and the others are up in the air, praying no one’s meddled with their machines.’
May gave a small gasp. ‘I quite forgot. I heard something from one of Brimstone’s pilots today.’
Evie’s heart rate increased as she listened to May relate the conversation she’d had with Karol. ‘Alex swore it was only he, the station commander and Sergeant Rawlins who knew about the sabotage. How on earth does Karol know?’
‘Maybe Sergeant Rawlins said something.’
‘Perhaps.’ But that didn’t sit quite right with Evie. Rawlins had struck her as a man who took his orders seriously, and he seemed to have great respect for Alex. She couldn’t see him casually breaking Alex’s order to keep quiet. ‘Ah, well. We can’t do anything about it now. I’ll tell Alex when I see him tomorrow.’
A flutter of excitement thrilled in her chest. They’d arranged to meet at the pub. It wouldn’t be a romantic tête-à-tête, not in the crowded snug, but it would be a chance to talk, reassure herself he was well. It was more time together than many couples got these days, and she was grateful.
* * *
Alex taxied his Hurricane towards the waiting Erks. A glance at his watch showed him it was nearly seven o’clock. Time always seemed to pass in a strange way when he was in the air. It felt like he had been up there for only a few minutes but now he could see it had been over an hour.
‘How did it go, sir?’ Sergeant Rawlins asked, helping him out of his parachute.
‘Not bad. Think we bagged a couple of 109s between us. How many are back?’ He could never relax until he knew all his pilots had returned safely.
‘All bar two, sir.’ Rawlins paused and shaded his eyes, gazing into the sky. ‘Looks like they’re coming in now.’
Alex followed where he was pointing and saw two Hurricanes making their approach. He held his breath until he saw the markings, only relaxing when he saw they did indeed belong to the two remaining members of Brimstone. All back safely to live another day. And to cap it all, he was meeting Evie soon. Days like this were bright spots that made the war seem almost bearable.
Milan ran up, looking worried. ‘You’ve got visitors. In your office.’
The lads were laughing and chatting in the dispersal hut as they removed their Mae Wests, rescued personal possessions from their lockers and made their way to the door. They cast sidelong glances at Alex when he walked across the room to his office. He saw why when he went in. Bob Law was waiting for him with another officer and a sergeant. Alex
didn’t need to see the red and black armbands and the sergeant’s white cap to know these were members of the RAF Police. The officer’s dark hair was so slicked with Brylcreem, Alex dreaded to think how oily the inside of his cap must be.
‘We need to talk about the rumours flying around the station about the saboteur,’ Bob said after introducing Flying Officer Dawson and Sergeant Phipps.
‘What rumours? I haven’t breathed a word and I can vouch for Rawlins.’ A moment later he realised that wasn’t true. He’d told Evie. But Evie wouldn’t tell anyone, and he didn’t want to get her into trouble.
‘Then explain why I’ve just had James Fitzpatrick pacing up and down my office, demanding to know what I’m doing about the station saboteur.’
Alex went cold. If Fitz – Catseye squadron’s CO – knew about it, the secret must be well and truly out. ‘I can’t, sir.’ Oh, God, please don’t let it be Evie who had talked. He’d have put his last fiver on her being trustworthy, but weren’t there posters all over the place warning about just this situation? Had she played him for a fool? Surely not. He trusted her. He would talk to her about it this evening to put his mind at rest, but he knew she wouldn’t have talked.
But that only left Rawlins, and the thought of him breaking orders was almost as bad as Evie letting him down.
‘Fitz also said it was general knowledge that Aircraftman Sykes was the culprit.’
‘Sykes?’ Alex could picture the young Yorkshireman clearly. He was eager to please, hard-working and honest through and through. ‘I don’t believe it. Not him.’
‘Nevertheless, we need to question him.’ It was Dawson who spoke, and Alex took an immediate dislike to his officious manner. ‘According to our information, one of your pilots’ guns jammed but Sykes found nothing wrong when he examined them.’ Dawson consulted a small notebook. ‘The pilot concerned was named as Pilot Officer Karol Šimek, one of the Czechs.’ He scrunched up his nose as he spoke as though detecting a bad smell. ‘I suppose as an officer we can consider him trustworthy, even if he is a foreigner.’