by Vicki Beeby
‘I…I don’t know what to say.’ Evie’s head swam. She’d come prepared to defend Jess and May, certain she was about to be slung out of the WAAF. She had no idea how to respond to praise instead.
The ghost of a smile tugged at Jean’s lips. ‘I’m giving the three of you the day off to recover from the night’s excitement. That should give you ample time to work something out. In the meantime, you might be interested in what arrived this morning.’ She indicated the papers on her desk. ‘Your orders to report for Filterer Officer training at Bawdsey in two weeks.’
Evie’s heart gave a swoop, and she was hard pressed to decide if it was pleasure or dismay. ‘I… Thank you.’ It was a chance to make something of her life. Become an officer. Save enough money to fund her degree should they win the war. Yes, it was definitely pleasure, not dismay that she would be leaving Alex.
‘Don’t thank me yet,’ Ellerby said with a smile. ‘You’ll have to work hard if you want to pass.’
She would. Without Alex as a distraction, she would spend all her free time studying. Use work to forget how much she loved him. Because he was going to end their relationship, she was sure, and that was a good thing. She had been becoming too dependent upon him. If they had continued courting, she’d have fallen into the same trap as her mother and become so used to deferring to him that she’d lose her ability to support herself. She wanted a career, independence. Alex was holding her back. It was best she left.
Despite her resolution, once Ellerby dismissed her and Evie went to look for Jess and May, she found her mind wandering to Karol’s odd comment. Or, rather, it wasn’t so much Karol’s words she couldn’t get out of her head, but Alex’s stricken expression. Karol had lashed out in his desperation, and it was clear his words had struck their mark.
Jess and May were waiting for their own summons outside the Admin block.
‘Well?’ Jess asked, her eyes pinned to Evie’s face. ‘Oh no, it’s bad news, isn’t it? We’re going to get thrown out. And just when I’d decided I’d found something I was good at and was going to try for promotion.’
‘No, it’s good news.’
‘Why? What did she say?’ Jess’s eyes were wide and eager. Then she frowned. ‘Why the long face?’
Evie bit her lip. ‘Alex,’ she said. Then, recollecting herself, she said, ‘May, she wants to see you next. Don’t look so scared – we’re getting a commendation.’
Once May had dashed off, still looking terrified, Jess took Evie’s arm and led her out into the sunshine. They sat on a bench by the vegetable patch to wait for May’s return. ‘Alex won’t stay angry with you forever; he’ll come to his senses. It’s this blasted war. It’s got everything turned upside-down.’
A ladybird landed on Evie’s sleeve. She studied its shiny red back and counted seven dots before blowing it in the air and turning to Jess. ‘Maybe he’s already seen sense. Maybe we’re not right together.’ But still the memory of his stricken face haunted her.
Making up her mind, she sprang to her feet. ‘I have to talk to him. Do you know where he is?’
Jess shook her head. ‘I heard he’s been stood down for the day, same as Milan, but I haven’t seen him.’
‘I need to find him.’
She took a step away, but Jess clutched her arm. ‘Aren’t you going to wait for me and May to finish with Ellerby?’
‘I have to see him now.’ Evie shook off Jess’s hold. ‘Meet me back at the schoolroom.’
Without waiting for Jess’s reply, Evie strode towards the gates. She was certain she knew where to find him. She would tell him she would be leaving, relieve him of the task of ending their relationship. More importantly, she needed to set him right over the guilt she’d read in his eyes after Karol’s poisonous remark. She had no idea what had caused his pain, but she couldn’t leave without doing her best to ease it.
She found him, as she’d guessed, up in the woods. He was perched on a fallen tree trunk where the trees gave way to fields, gazing down at the Hurricanes taking off from the airfield below. As she approached, dried leaves swished underfoot; Alex glanced her way.
‘What are you doing here?’ He lowered his gaze as though the sight of her hurt his eyes. ‘You’re better off without me.’
Her rehearsed speech flew from her mind. She’d expected to have to defend herself. Faced with a dull resignation that was so unlike Alex, she blurted the first words that came into her head. ‘That’s not true.’
‘You wouldnae say that if you knew what happened in France.’
She took a step closer, aching to touch him, to sit side by side with him, feel his arm around her again. ‘If this is about what Karol said…it was just spite. No one blames you for any losses under your command.’
‘I do.’ His mouth was pulled tight as though from pain.
‘You shouldn’t. Fighter Command would never have kept you on as squadron leader if they didn’t think you were the right man for the job.’
He faced her again, his eyes dull. ‘Why do you think they had me working in Ops for so long? After what happened in France, they didn’t want me leading an operational squadron again. It was only when they needed someone who could speak Czech that they were forced to resort to me because there wasn’t anyone else.’
This was the first time he had so much as alluded to his experiences in France. If he could only explain what had happened, it would be his first step towards freeing himself of the stain it had left on his soul, but she had no idea how to coax the truth from him. Seconds ticked by; the sighing of the trees and soft birdsong faded beneath the roar of blood in Evie’s ears. She sought the right words, afraid to move or speak in case she shattered the moment. In the end she knew she had to speak before the opportunity passed. ‘They wouldn’t have put you in charge if you weren’t suitable. Don’t let Karol win by allowing his poison into your head.’
‘You weren’t there. You don’t know what happened.’
‘Then explain.’
Alex’s response was to turn away, and it felt like a dismissal. Evie hovered behind him in an agony of indecision, unwilling to leave him but out of ideas how to persuade him to confide in her. Then a wave of anger at Karol overtook her. Maybe she and Alex were better apart, but it didn’t stop her loving him. She refused to leave him bowed beneath a guilt she was sure was unjustified. It would be like giving up on a mathematical proof before she’d completed it. She went and sat next to him, careful to leave enough space between them to avoid accidentally brushing against him. ‘I’m not going until you tell me.’
Alex blew out a breath. ‘I suppose it doesn’t matter. You’re leaving soon.’
Evie closed her eyes briefly. ‘How did you know?’
‘Bob Law told me this morning.’ He gave a strained smile. ‘Congratulations. You deserve it.’
‘I’m sorry. I wanted you to hear it from me first.’ She made a helpless gesture. ‘It’s not important right now. Tell me what happened in France.’
He answered without looking at her, his attention fixed on the Hurricanes now climbing steadily as they flew towards the coast. ‘I had only just been promoted to squadron leader when I was sent to France to take command of Brimstone.’ His mouth twisted in a bitter parody of a smile. ‘I was so sure I would lead the squadron to glory.’ He picked up a twig and stabbed a clump of moss with it. Evie waited more patiently this time, confident that now he had started he would complete the tale.
The twig snapped, and Alex threw away the broken end, drawing a shuddering breath. ‘We didn’t find glory, of course. Only disaster. After two weeks of routine patrols along the German frontier, we hadn’t brought down a single enemy plane.’ He grimaced. ‘I got impatient. Desperate for a victory. When we got intelligence of a planned attack on Bouzonville, I was too eager to shoot down some Germans to listen to the warnings that the source couldn’t be wholly trusted. I insisted upon acting on the intelligence, of setting up what I thought would be a trap.’
Evie’s blood went
cold, dreading to hear what Alex would say next.
‘It was a German trap, of course. They knew we would be there, were waiting for us. One moment the sky was empty, the next it was black with Messerschmitts. Only a handful of us escaped unhurt. All my fault.’
* * *
For a while, Alex forgot Evie was there. Instead of the woods around him and the airfield below, all he could see was the angry swarm of Messerschmitts spitting fire, the billowing black spirals of smoke as his men were shot down. Instead of the twitter of birdsong and the sigh of the gentle breeze in the leaves, all he could hear were the frantic cries of his fellow pilots screaming warnings to one another and his own voice yelling at pilots of stricken Hurricanes to bail out.
Then a touch on his arm made him jump, and Evie’s anxious face cut through the nightmare.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘It must have been terrible.’
Where was the condemnation, the disgust he’d been sure he’d spy in her eyes the moment she knew? He hadn’t made himself clear. He cleared his throat, which felt so tight it was hard to force out the words. ‘Only six of us made it out unscathed. The rest of the squadron were killed or injured so badly they’ll never fly again.’
‘I’m so sorry you had to go through that.’
Alex gazed at Evie in incomprehension. ‘They’re dead or disabled because of me,’ he said, in case she hadn’t grasped the obvious fact.
Evie didn’t look away, but a pucker formed between her brows. ‘They were killed or injured because of the German attack. You didn’t do it.’
He spoke to her slowly as though to a child. ‘But I led them into the ambush. It was my fault.’
Evie bit her lip and shook her head slowly as though trying to solve a puzzle. ‘I’ve worked in Ops long enough to know that squadrons only go where they are sent. The orders to fly on that mission must have come from higher up.’ Her voice softened. ‘I’m not trying to shift the blame onto anyone other than the Germans, but you certainly can’t be blamed for following orders.’
‘You don’t understand. I wanted to go. I urged my wing commander to send us.’
‘Did he always go along with your recommendations?’
‘Not all the time.’
‘Did he ever give orders you felt unwise?’
‘Aye, but—’
‘Then he clearly had a mind of his own and had examined the evidence for himself before ordering your squadron on the mission.’
Alex scowled. ‘It’s not that simple.’
‘Why not?’
Alex stared at her helplessly. How could he sum up the complex web of loyalties and responsibility that bound a squadron leader to his pilots in a few simple words? The loss of his pilots was his fault. He could have done more…should have done more. Should have been paying more attention to the skies…checked to see if there were planes lurking against the sun.
A wave of weariness struck. He couldn’t bear to think about it any more. He rose and brushed dried leaves and moss from his uniform with shaking hands. It should be obvious to Evie that he’d come here to be alone. Why couldn’t she take the hint and leave? He tried not to think he’d never see her sweet face again, never hold her close. Most of all he’d miss her directness, the way she could cut to the heart of a problem in a few brief words. No. He mustn’t remember how good it felt to be with her. She was safer without him, so he had to send her away.
‘Thank you for coming to say goodbye. I don’t suppose I’ll see you before you go but I’m sure you’ll do well.’ After all they had been through together, it was cold, almost brutal. Evie flinched as though he had struck her. It took all his willpower not to take her in his arms and beg her forgiveness. But it was better this way.
She stood up. ‘Very well. Don’t listen. Push everyone away and go through life blaming yourself. But if you ask me, your guilt is just an excuse to avoid getting close to anyone. Because if you stopped to think, you’d see no one else believes you’re at fault.’
‘I’d ask the old members of my squadron, but they’re dead or too injured to fly again.’
‘Not all of them. Did any of the pilots who survived ask to be transferred? Of course not. Don’t you think they would if they’d lost trust in you?’ She shook her head as though struggling to comprehend. ‘You’re just too scared to face the pain of losing anyone else you love, so you’re grasping at any excuse to push people away. I—’ Her voice cracked, and she pressed her quivering lips into a tight line.
For a moment, Alex was unable to frame a coherent reply. How dare she accuse him of being scared? ‘I’m not the one who’s leaving. I couldnae believe it when I heard you’d applied for officer training. When were you planning on telling me? I thought I meant something to you. But no, you planned this without once considering my feelings.’
Where had that come from? He wished he could take back the words as soon as they were out of his mouth, but it was too late. She gazed at him with wounded eyes, then spun round and fled down the path. Alex considered calling her back, but what was the point? He had achieved what he had meant to do: sent her away, where she would be safe from the doom that always struck those who got too close to him. She would soon realise she was better off without him and find another man.
Suddenly he didn’t want to sit up here and watch the airfield from a distance. If he did, he would be wondering where Evie was, if she was one of the tiny dots he could see moving around the station. He wanted to push all thought of her from his mind for a few hours. If only he’d had the sense to get the train up to London the moment he’d been told he had the day off, spend the day in a place that didn’t hold memories of Evie in every corner.
But trying to forget about Evie only made him dwell upon the incident in France. Maybe it was the constant roar of Merlin engines down on the station, but he couldn’t get the images out of his head: the helplessness of seeing one after another of his pilots shot out of the sky. It was easy for Evie to say it wasn’t his fault; she hadn’t been there, hadn’t heard the screams over the R/T of a man trapped in his burning fuselage. But he heard them night after night in his dreams, knew he would hear them until his dying day. How dare she accuse him of using his guilt as an excuse? She might be right about most things, but she was wrong about this.
He stomped down the path, scarcely registering where his feet were carrying him. He wasn’t pushing her away. She was the one being posted elsewhere, at her request, no less. What did that say about her feelings for him?
He tried to ignore the stab through the heart that came with the prospect of never seeing her again.
Anyway, she would be better off without him. What was the likelihood of him surviving the war in one piece? He didn’t want to tie her to him and end up being a burden or a grief to her.
He hesitated in his stride. He could almost see her expression, hear her say, ‘Isn’t that my choice to make?’ Evie was an intelligent girl and knew her own mind.
Then he shook his head and walked on. Whatever she might think, he was guilty and didn’t want to taint her by association. He should concentrate on doing his job to the best of his ability. See his remaining pilots safely through the war.
Again, Evie’s face came into his mind, a glint of triumph in her eyes. So, he believed himself capable of safely guiding his men now? What had changed since France? What made him think he was capable of being a good squadron leader now?
Something Evie had said had barely registered at the time, but now her words rang as sharp and clear as the scramble bell: did any of the pilots who survived ask to be transferred? No. They had shown unwavering support.
He had dwelt so much on the pilots killed or wounded, he hadn’t considered those, like him, who had been relatively unscathed. If they had lost faith in him, they could have requested a transfer to another squadron, but all had returned to Brimstone. He was ashamed to admit he’d been so wrapped up in the business of leading a squadron during the endless battles of the summer and helping the Czech
pilots settle in, he’d left the old hands to their own devices. It was only after the loss of Flight Lieutenant Harper that he’d spent any time with them, drinking to Harper’s honour in the pub that night. Even so, they’d been nothing but loyal. They didn’t blame him for their losses, then or now.
Could it be that Evie was right? He leaned against a stout tree limb as reality sank in. If she was, maybe she was also right about him pushing her away.
Evie was leaving, taking the better part of his heart, and he hadn’t even said goodbye.
But what could he do? Should he do anything, or should he simply let Evie go? Did he want to let her go?
He didn’t have any good answers; every atom of his being seemed to be waging a war between protecting Evie and leaving her free to make her own choice. Because that was the true battle. Did he love her enough to send her away with his blessing, trusting that she would always come back to him? He might still lose her, but if he tried to hem her in, he would lose her for sure.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
‘Anyone would think you were on your way to a library job instead of about to become an officer.’ Jess wrinkled her nose as she sorted through the pile of books Evie was trying to cram into her kit bag. ‘Do you really need all these maths books?’
Evie snatched her log tables from Jess’s hands. ‘Yes.’ Now, more than ever, she was determined to continue her studies in the hope of getting a place at Oxford after the war. She bit her lip as she was struck by a cold, hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. In the fortnight since she’d said goodbye to Alex, her dreams of Oxford had lost their allure.
She crammed the log tables into the bag. ‘And I might not become an officer. I might fail the course.’
‘Likely story,’ Jess scoffed.
‘You’ll pass with flying colours,’ May assured her from her perch on her bed.
Evie managed a weak smile. ‘I hope you’re right.’ She made a conscious effort to straighten her shoulders. May was right. She was good enough. Ellerby had recommended her for this promotion, and she was hard to please. This was what she wanted: another step towards being a successful officer and, hopefully, the means to persuade the admissions officers at Oxford that she deserved a scholarship when she left the WAAF.