A Kestrel Rising

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A Kestrel Rising Page 4

by S. A. Laybourn


  “It is when I’m singing to them. You’ve never heard me sing My Old Man Said Follow the Van. They hate that, because I sing it very loud. It stops them from falling asleep. At least that’s what I tell them. I don’t think they’ll be looking forward to the night patrols much. I’ll have to expand my repertoire.” He brushed her cheek with his thumb. “Why, ACW Lowe, you’re laughing. Do you find my singing funny?”

  “No, it’s lovely, really.” She wiped her eyes. “You have a wonderful voice.”

  “I’ll sing it to you one day. I promise.”

  “There’s no need.”

  They walked away from the dance floor, Ilona still giggling as Ian took her hand and hummed the opening bars of My Old Man.

  “See,” he told her. “I can carry a tune when I need to. You are an amazing woman, Ilke.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I take a perfectly romantic moment and reduce you to tears of laughter when most women would’ve been upset with me for not taking things seriously. I’ve had women storming off dance floors for less.”

  She found her handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. “More fool them.”

  “Oh, Carstairs, you’ve not made Ilke cry already, have you?” Sandy, with Faith in tow, reappeared, bearing more drinks. “What have I told you about that?”

  “It’s all right, Williams, she was just overwhelmed by my singing, that’s all.”

  “It’s dreadful, isn’t it?” Sandy patted her shoulder. “Imagine being trapped in a plane, at fifteen thousand feet, with that racket in your ears. That’s why he’s the Tail End Charlie, because if his singing gets too bad, we can leave him behind.”

  “Now, that’s just cruel, Sandy.” Ian took a sip of beer. “You’re making me look very bad in front of Ilke and I’ve spent all evening working hard to impress her.” He tweaked her ear gently. “Haven’t I? Tell them how impressed you are.”

  “I’m impressed.” She tried to keep a straight face. “I really am.”

  “Could you be a little bit more convincing, darling?”

  Ilona laughed. “I’m trying.”

  He stood up and held out his hand. “Try a bit harder and dance with me again. I promise I won’t make you laugh this time.”

  She took his hand and followed the now familiar path back to the dance floor as the band struck into Over the Rainbow. There were fewer couples. There was no singing or talking, just Ian holding her close, his breath ruffling her hair and his arm around her waist. She wished that the song would go on forever, but eventually it finished, the singer lingering on the last, fading note. Ian stepped back and looked at her and, for a moment, there was no one else there while he kissed her until scattered applause and wolf whistles from the squadron members shattered the illusion.

  “I think they approve,” Ian observed.

  Ilona’s cheeks burned and she was grateful that the dim lighting hid her blushes. There weren’t many people left in the hall and it was clear that it was time to go. Sandy and Faith had already disappeared.

  “We should go,” Ian said. “It’s going to be a busy week and you need your sleep. It’ll be lights out in the WAAF hut soon.”

  She sighed. “It was lovely while it lasted.”

  “It will be lovely again. I promise.”

  Outside, it was bitterly cold. Ilona was grateful for Ian’s warmth when he walked her back to the WAAF quarters. The night air put paid to any notion of a leisurely stroll and their hurried footsteps echoed between the quiet buildings. The moon cast weak shadows across their path and painted the porch of the WAAF hut with faint silver light. Ilona had no doubt that Faith would be waiting for a recitation of the evening’s events.

  Ian’s hands were cold when he brushed her hair back from her face. “Goodnight, darling.” He kissed her once more, a kiss full of promise that left her trembling and weak. She wondered how it was possible that one person could reduce her to this.

  “Goodnight,” she whispered, unable to say anymore.

  “I’ll see you on the bus. Now get inside and get yourself warm.”

  The hut was warm and, as Ilona expected, Faith was waiting for her. “Well?” She grinned. “How was your evening?”

  Ilona unfastened her jacket and undid the top button of her shirt, wrenching the collar away from her chafed neck. “It was very nice.”

  “Is that all you’re going to say? You both looked very cozy.”

  “We were.” She sat down on her bed. “We had a very nice evening.”

  “You’re hard work, Ilke.”

  She shrugged. “What do you want me to say?”

  “Is he in love with you?”

  “I’m not saying. You’ll have to work that out for yourself.”

  “I reckon he is. That’s what Sandy says. You know those two, thick as thieves.”

  Ilona took her shoes off and wriggled her toes. “Yes, they are. But, if you must know—and I’ll trust you to keep this to yourself—he made his feelings for me quite clear.”

  Faith giggled. “I knew it! What about you?”

  “I did the same. How could I not love him, Faith? He makes me feel like I’m all there is. He makes me laugh and when I’m with him, I don’t want to be anywhere else. When he’s not there, all I can do is think about seeing him again, even if it’s just for a few minutes on that bloody bus. I love looking in the rear view mirror and knowing he’s there and I love it when I see his plane come back safely. I can’t breathe until it’s on the ground and stopped. There’s no better moment than when I see him walking toward the bus with that smile on his face and the wind in his hair. Something inside of me leaps at the sight of him. Does that make sense?”

  Her friend laughed. “It makes perfect sense to me, Ilke. It’s called being in love and it’s clear that you are both very much in love with each other. I couldn’t be happier for you.”

  “I couldn’t be happier, either.” She smothered a yawn. “But, now, I suppose, I must try and sleep. I’m going to be all over the place with these night flights.”

  * * * *

  Ilona was glad she knew the way to the briefing room and the runway by heart, because it was difficult to see in the darkness created by the blackout. When she stopped to pick up her passengers, there was only a thumbnail sliver of moon hanging in the night sky.

  “Hallo, ACW Lowe.” Her first passenger clambered onto the bus. “I hope you’ve eaten plenty of carrots. It’s black as the Ace of Spades out there.”

  “I can see just fine.” She sought out Ian in the small crowd. He winked at her in the gloom and his fingers brushed the back of her neck when he took his usual seat. She tried to ignore the feelings his touch stirred, put the bus in gear and headed for the runway. Whether it was because of the hour or because this was the first night patrol, her passengers were quiet. Ilona caught their apprehension and as the crews jumped down the steps one by one, she wished them luck. She doubted she would sleep this first night.

  “Don’t worry,” Ian whispered when he gathered his gear. “We’ll be back, safe and sound.” He kissed her cheek. “I’ll be back because I’ll use the stars to find my way back to you.”

  She dashed quick, foolish tears from her eyes. “I know.” She wished that he could kiss her.

  “I expect a nice mug of tea when I get back.” He grinned. “Milk and two sugars, please.”

  She laughed. “You’re impossible, Flight Lieutenant Carstairs, but I’ll see what I can do.”

  He paused on the steps. His crew had already started walking toward the plane. “I know you will, Ilke Lowe, because you love me.”

  * * * *

  The shrill ringing of a phone in the darkness woke Ilona with a start. She sat up and, for a moment, could not remember where she was or what she was supposed to be doing. Then she realized and fumbled for the phone, if only to stop it ringing. “ACW Lowe.”

  The night sergeant was brief. “Time to get up, Lowe.”

  “Thank you, Sergeant Flack, sir.” Ilona set the phone
back in the cradle and rubbed her eyes, trying to find her way to consciousness. She hurried into her boots and jacket and jammed her cap over her sleep-mussed hair. The icy night air was like a slap in the face when she hurried out to her bus and she hoped that it would start. Ilona sank onto the seat, then turned the ignition.

  Please start, please start. Just start.

  It lurched into life, coughing and wheezing like an old man.

  “I love you, you old beast you.” Ilona patted the steering wheel and turned the heating up as high as it would go.

  It was strange to be parked in the darkness, listening for the sound of the returning planes. The ground crew were already there and waiting. They greeted her cheerfully before lapsing back into silence. Ilona shoved her hands into her pockets in the hope that she would stop trembling. She just wanted Ian back, safe and in one piece.

  The comforting rumble of engines suddenly filled the icy night. The runway lights came on, creating a flickering trail for the planes to follow. They descended out of the darkness and touched down, the beacons glinting off their wings and undercarriages. Ilona counted them in—ten, eleven then twelve, landing with the lightness of a bird. Weak with relief, she ran back to the bus and began her run as the ground crews scattered to meet their respective planes.

  “Go out and meet him, Ilke.” Sandy clambered up the steps. “That would just make his night. He’s done nothing but talk about you since the dance.”

  Ilona left the bus idling and hurried into the cold night as the final two crews headed toward the bus. All she saw was Ian, the fickle light from the mechanics’ lorries, glinting on his hair. She saw his smile when he walked swiftly toward her. He dropped his gear on the ground and swept her up in a fierce embrace, ignoring the cheers and roars of approval coming from the bus as he lifted her off the ground.

  “You’re a sight for sore eyes, Ilke,” he whispered.

  “So are you.” She reveled in the warmth and strength of him. “Welcome back, Flight Lieutenant Carstairs. I love you.”

  “I love you too, ACW Lowe.”

  Chapter Five

  Ilona parked the bus in the depot and pulled the huge garage door closed. She was glad that her rotation was over. The base was a different world at night, one that she found hard to get used to. It was as if she, the crews and Sergeant Flack inhabited a different place, a place entirely centered on twelve planes patrolling a dangerous sky. All that mattered was that everyone returned in one piece and, that at the end of it all, Ian was safe. She pulled her jacket close and fumbled in her pocket for her gloves. Her bunk wasn’t the most comfortable bed she’d ever known, but it would be warm and peaceful. She checked the lock and tried to remember where she had left the bicycle.

  “Ilke.”

  She wheeled around. “What on earth are you doing here?”

  “Waiting for you.” Ian kissed her. “I have a proposition for you to sleep on.”

  “You do?”

  “Sandy is lending me his car. I was thinking that it would be nice for you and me to get away. We’re both entitled to a forty-eight hour pass.”

  “What did you have in mind?” It seemed a stupid question to ask. Ilona knew exactly what he had in mind. She trembled, not sure if it was down to the cold night air or to anticipation.

  “Sandy told me about a place up in the Dales, at Middleham. We can have some time alone together, Ilke, just you and me, a cozy hotel, fireplace, good food and a nice, soft, warm bed.”

  “You want me to go away with you?” Ilona’s heart hammered. She curled her gloved fingers into the thickness of Ian’s coat sleeves and tried to remember to breathe.

  “More than anything.” He cupped her chin in his hand. “It’s a big thing to ask of you, darling, I know. But I love you and I… Well…to be blunt, I want you.”

  “Yes,” she replied. “I’d love that.” She hoped she sounded calmer than she felt.

  “You would?” His incredulity touched her. “Really?”

  “I can think of nothing I’d love more.”

  He grinned and kissed her again, a kiss full of heat and promise and longing. “I’ll meet you at the gate tomorrow at twelve. Goodnight, darling. Make sure you get plenty of sleep.” He winked and was gone, leaving her standing, staring into the darkness as if the exchange had been a dream.

  * * * *

  Ian was waiting, leaning against the car. The wintry sun touched his hair with gold. His smile was worth the hurry and the upside down hours, shivering at the side of the runway in the dark, straining to hear the sound of the returning planes. He took her case and put it in the boot of the car, kissing her as he did so. “I love you.” His eyes were bright and Ilona quivered as he touched her face. “Are you ready, darling?”

  “Yes.” She returned his smile as he held the door for her.

  “Then let’s get out of here.” He put the car into gear and turned toward the west and the Great North Road.

  Ian swore at his friend’s car and urged it on as it crept along the narrow lanes onto the slopes of the Dales. The bleak and bare hilltops were powdered with snow and the long, sweeping slopes were divided by a maze of walls and dotted with stone barns. They passed through tiny, sleeping villages, where thin wisps of smoke drifted from cottage chimneys into the wintry sky and dogs crouched beside farm gates waiting to chase any passers-by. The landscape was very different from the soft, green hills and beech woods of Ilona’s childhood. She was enchanted by the wildness of it and by the way the winter sun cast a coppery light across the open hillsides. The air was clear and cold. Sharp blue shadows defined every hollow, fold and burn. Ilona concentrated on the scenery, pushing aside the enormity of what she was about to give Ian. She was vaguely aware of the ‘act’, thanks to whispered conversations with Faith, who had experience of these things. She hoped that it wouldn’t be too awkward or painful and that the anticipation and excitement that bubbled up inside wouldn’t be replaced by disappointment.

  Middleham sat high on the Dales. Ian slowed the car as the road widened into the market place. “It should be around here, somewhere.”

  “What’s it called?” Ilona peered through the windscreen.

  “The White Horse.”

  “Is that it?” She found a solid looking building on a corner.

  “Bless you. Yes it is.” He turned the car around in the middle of the square and headed for it. He parked the car on a side street and fumbled in his coat pocket. “Here,” he told her. “You’d better put this on.” He handed her a plain gold ring. “Just to avoid any awkwardness, you are now Mrs. Carstairs.” He kissed her cheek. “Is that all right?”

  She slipped the ring onto her finger. “It most certainly is.”

  The lobby was a haven of warmth after the sharp cold of the high dales. The firelight caught on the brasses nailed to the heavy dark beams in the ceiling. Ilona took a deep breath and clung to Ian’s hand.

  This is it. This is where everything changes.

  Her stomach was in knots and her heart fluttered like a bird trapped in a cage. She found it difficult to follow the desk clerk up the narrow, crooked staircase that led to their room. When Ian closed the door gently behind her, Ilona looked around the room. It overlooked the market place, which was quiet in the late afternoon. The last of the light fell through the window onto the faded rugs on the floor. An ancient bed four-poster dominated the room. It was piled high with blankets and a flowered coverlet. Ilona trembled, knowing what would happen there. Ian set their cases down on an old chest and drew the curtains, leaving the room flooded with light from the fire.

  “Are you all right?” His voice was hoarse.

  Ilona managed a shaky smile. “I’m a bit nervous.”

  He slid the coat from her shoulders. “That’s to be expected. If it’s any comfort, so am I.”

  “You are?”

  He held out his hands and she was surprised to see them shaking.

  “You’d think I’d be old enough to know better,” he joked. “But I wo
n’t let that stop me.” He drew her into his arms and kissed her with an endearing lack of certainty.

  “I love you,” he whispered. His hands crept toward her waist.

  “I love you.” She closed her eyes when his lips met the hollow at the base of her throat. She let her hands follow their own path, finding his warm, smooth skin under his jumper. It was unknown territory and she took her time, feeling him quiver at her touch as they backed awkwardly toward the bed. Ian fell back onto the eiderdown and pulled her with him. His lips never left her skin while he slowly unfastened her dress. He shrugged out of his jumper and shivered when she kissed his neck. She reveled in the scent of soap and his skin. She thought him perfect and continued to explore, drawing gasps when she found his belt and unbuckled it with a sudden wave of boldness she hadn’t known she possessed.

  “Minx.” He released her from her bra.

  She gasped when he discovered her breasts before lingering there for a while.

  “You are beautiful.” He ventured further. His lips followed his fingers as they wove their way down to places that had yet to be explored. Ilona’s nervousness fled in advance of his hands and she found the courage to follow the same path downward until he groaned and tugged at his trousers, kicking them impatiently away, followed by his shorts. She dared to open her eyes, driven as much by curiosity as desire. Her breath caught in her throat while she admired the perfection of him, the way his skin glowed in the flickering light of the fire. She had known what to expect but giggling half-baked descriptions did not do the reality any justice.

  “You are beautiful,” she echoed, when Ian pulled her toward him until she did not know where she ended and he began. She surrendered to the feelings that his touch aroused. Waves of heat moved through her. He became all there was as he entered her and cried out against her neck when he began to move. He drew her into a dance that had an entirely different rhythm to any that she had ever known. It all began to make sense, how it was that she loved him and why. He was meant to be there, whispering her name. She held him and followed him into the fire and beyond, drawn out of herself and no longer earthbound. She rose and fell with him until she found release and he collapsed against her with a long, shivery sigh.

 

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