Anyway, that’s enough of the serious stuff. We’re getting ready to fly, so just enough time for a cup of tea and then we’re off. I don’t suppose our bosses would be kind enough to make sure that our next leave coincides. If we can both get a day, how about Cambridge? One of the chaps here says there’s fun to be had. We can hire a punt and go for trip down the Cam. Let’s keep our fingers crossed for a warm day in spring.
Take care,
Regards, etc.
Francis
Ilona looked out of the window. Winter had returned to the Brecks and the late afternoon wind hurled small flakes of snow against the glass and rattled the panes. Spring seemed an impossibility, especially a warm spring day balmy enough to float on the river.
“A penny for them,” Grace said.
“Oh, nothing really. It’s from Francis. He thinks we should go to Cambridge for a day in spring.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that, is there? After all, you’re just friends.”
“As far as I’m concerned, yes.”
Grace raised an eyebrow. “But?”
“I’m not so sure about Francis.” Ilona thought of Christmas Day, and tried to dismiss that moment on Anna’s bench as just a friend needing the comfort of a friend. The swift kiss on the platform was something else, and she hoped it was only impulse on his part and just the fact that it was an unexpected pleasure on hers. “But that’s me and my overactive imagination.” She looked at her friend. “Ian was an open book. There were no mysteries with him. There was no darkness, no sides. He was just Ian.” She glanced at the photograph and felt that now familiar twist of sorrow. “I know Francis is just a friend, but there are moments that I wonder if he doesn’t regard me as more. I can’t be bothered with the mystery and I don’t want to have to start worrying about him—wondering, every night, if he’ll make it back in one piece.” She sighed. “But we had a lovely time together over Christmas. We got along so well, as if we’d made a fresh start. I really hope he doesn’t want more than friendship. I can’t fall in love again.”
“Is that because you don’t want to or because you really don’t think it’s possible?”
“I can’t bear going through all that uncertainty again, praying every night that he gets back safely, not being able to breathe from the fear. I can’t go through that grief again. I promised Ian that I wouldn’t spend my life mourning him, but there’s still part of me that can’t let go of him. I still love him, Grace.”
“You always will love him. That will never change. He was right. You can’t hide away from life forever. As for the worry, you still loved Ian in spite of all of the fear and the uncertainty. You were still happy.”
“Yes, I was and I’m getting better.” She was, she missed Ian but the pain was no longer the all-pervading presence it once had been.
“There you go, then.” Grace smiled. “Why don’t you stop fretting about what may or not happen and just let things take their course. Just enjoy yourself and appreciate Francis’ friendship. No one says you have to fall in love with him.”
Dear Francis,
Thank you for your letter. I’m glad that you’re enjoying the flying. I wish I could say the same for lorry driving. The only time I leave the ground is if I hit an unexpected bump in the road. Singing helps to break the monotony. It’s good practice for next Christmas, I suppose. It is also a welcome distraction from the dreadful weather. The Brecks and Fens are miserable in the winter, as you will know, because I can’t imagine that the Broads are much better. That wind is dreadful, isn’t it? It certainly feels like it comes directly from Siberia most days.
I still can’t believe how quickly Christmas passed. Would you believe that I even miss Charlie’s endless chatter? I’m glad that you were there. I enjoyed your company. As for Christmas morning, there’s no need to thank me. I do understand what you were feeling and how frightening and overwhelming it all can be, like stepping into a whirlwind. That’s why I’m glad that I am away from the planes. At least if I’m just doing something as prosaic as delivering supplies, the war seems a little farther away for me.
I like the idea of a day in Cambridge and I really like the idea of warm weather! Do you think it will ever get here? I would be happy to spend the day there, if we are lucky enough to have leave at the same time. By the way, what on earth is a punt?
I had better go. I’m writing this in the depot, while waiting for the lorry to be loaded. I’ll drop this off in the post on my way out.
Be careful.
Regards,
Ilke
It became impossible to pretend that there was not a war on as February brought news that Singapore had fallen to the Japanese. The Mildenhall squadrons were engaged in bombing raids over Germany. Ilona’s sleep was disturbed by the bombers taking off in the night. She pushed the memories aside and tried to sleep. She refused to worry. Francis had been flying since the start of the war and could look after himself. That line of thought did not always work, especially on clear moonlit nights when she knew that he would be on escort duty, at least as far as the French coast.
“ACW Lowe.” The depot sergeant had found Ilona parking her lorry at the end of a long shift.
“Yes, sir?”
“There’s someone here to see you.” He told her. “He’s waiting in the office for you.”
Ilona stared at the sergeant and wondered who would be paying her a visit.
“Thank you, sir.”
She rushed toward the office, anxious to get out of the relentless wind. The warmth of the depot hit her as soon as she opened the door. Francis, smart in his dress blues, rose when she entered.
“Francis?” She found herself wishing her overalls weren’t an oily mess. “What are you doing here? Is everything all right?”
“It’s fine. I managed to wangle some leave, so I thought I’d stop by and see you. Can you get away for a couple of hours? I noticed a pub not far up the road.”
“I should think so. I’m done for the day.” She considered her clothes. “Is it all right if I get changed first? I can’t go out looking like this.”
He smiled. “You look all right to me, but I’ll wait.”
She hurried back to the hut, scrambled into her dress uniform and tried to restore order to her hair.
“Where’s the fire?” Grace asked while Ilona rummaged in her locker for her shoes.
“In the depot office.” She sat and tied the laces. “Francis is here. He wants to go for a drink.”
“Your Francis? He just turned up out of the blue?”
“Yes. Large as life.” She jammed her cap onto her head. “So, I’ll see you later.”
“I want to hear everything when you get back.”
“There won’t be anything to tell. I’m sure it’s just a flying visit, if you’ll pardon the pun.” She fastened her jacket and ran for the door.
When Ilona returned to the depot, Francis was drinking tea with the depot sergeant. He set the mug down and stood up when she swept in, windblown and breathless.
“That was quick,” he said.
“If you both hurry”—the sergeant smiled—“you’ll catch the next bus at the gate.”
“Thank you, sir.” Francis took Ilona’s arm. “Shall we go?”
Ilona, still stunned, nodded and let him lead her out into the windy dusk.
“I still can’t believe you’re here,” she told him. “What on earth possessed you to come to Mildenhall?”
“I’ll tell you when I’ve got a drink in me.”
Ilona caught a tightness to his tone.
True to the depot sergeant’s prediction, they reached the main gate just in time to catch the bus. They sat, side by side, in silence and Ilona watched the gray dusk settle over the Brecks. The wind rattled the windows and the other passengers talked quietly as the bus rolled toward the village. They got off at the first stop and Francis took Ilona’s hand and led her into the pub. She took two chairs by the fireplace while he went to get the drinks. She watched h
im while he leaned against the bar and thought she recognized the same bleakness in his eyes that she had seen at Christmas.
“Are you all right?” she asked when he returned with the drinks and slumped down in the other chair.
“No.” He took a long sip of his beer, set the glass down and moved his chair closer to hers.
“What happened?”
“I was going to write, but since I was given the leave, I decided to come and see you instead. I didn’t even want to put it on paper.”
Ilona waited while he took another drink, afraid of what he was going to say.
“I had a close call last night, closer than I care to think about.” He held out a shaking hand. She covered it with her own while he continued. “We’d been on an escort mission and were just about to turn back for home when the enemy AAGs let loose. It looked like the Fourth of July up there, tracers and streaks of light everywhere. It was a hornet’s nest, and I took one or two bullets.” He twined his fingers through hers.
“I put the nose down as quickly as I could to dive out the range of the guns. It was like wrestling with a whale. I figured that I had some rudder damage because the plane was sluggish. When we were out of range of the guns, I called to the others that I might have to bail out.” He paused and took another drink, holding onto her hand.
“I really didn’t want to do that. The sea is damn cold at this time of year. I don’t know how, but I managed to stay in the air and the other lads kept telling me to keep the old girl going. It seemed to take forever. All I could see below me was the moon on the water, and all I could think about was that I did not want to end up in there. I couldn’t have bailed out. The plane was too low. I swear my life was passing before my eyes. It was all mixed up, good and bad, and I even prayed.”
Ilona listened quietly. She wasn’t even sure he knew she was there. His gaze was fixed on something she could not see.
“I think God heard my prayer. We finally crossed the coast and began the final approach into Ludham. I’ve got to say, Ilke, I had a tear or two in my eye when I saw those runway lights. I wasn’t sure how the landing would go because I couldn’t really tell how bad the damage was.”
He squeezed her hand. “It would’ve been ironic to nurse the damn thing all the way home only to end up splattered all over the runway. Luckily, the landing gear was all right. I put her down and she bounced a bit. I managed to stop at the edge of the field. I turned the engine off and I couldn’t move. I just sat there and shook so much that I couldn’t undo my harness. One of the crew had to do it and help me out of the cockpit. I could hardly walk away from the plane. I just left the crew to it and didn’t look back. When I got back to the hut, Squadron Leader poured me a huge whiskey. I don’t think it touched the sides. I passed out, there and then.”
Francis took another drink and stared at the foam that clung to the glass. “I’ll tell you this, Ilke. I don’t give a damn what Squadron Leader thinks, the next time I come back in one piece from a mission, I’m doing a Victory Roll. I don’t care.”
Ilona struggled for words. She realized that her own hand was shaking. She tightened her other hand around his. “Good God, Francis…”
“Are you all right? You look pale.”
“I’m fine. I’m just relieved for you.”
“So you do care.”
“Of course I do.”
He surveyed his empty glass. “I don’t know about you, but I need another drink. Do you want one?”
“No, I’m fine.” She hadn’t touched her sherry.
“Go on. Drink that one. I’m getting you another. I hate to drink alone.”
Before Ilona could protest, he had gone. She sipped her sherry as quickly as she could before he returned with another. His eyes were warm as he sat down and retrieved her hand. “Thanks for coming out with me, Ilke. I know it was a bit rude of me to just turn up like that, but I really wanted to tell you and I didn’t want to put it in a letter.”
“It’s all right. I don’t mind and I understand.” Inside, she still trembled at the thought of what could have happened to him.
“So, that’s enough about me. What about you?”
“I’m probably going to be on the move again. It looks like I’m going to Duxford in April.”
“Really?” He grinned. “That’s a coincidence. That was my other piece of news. I’m being transferred to one of the Eagle Squadrons down at Debden. They’re a bit short of pilots so I’m being sent to keep my fellow Americans company. Debden’s not far from Duxford at all. It’s supposed to happen in May.” He sipped his beer. “I’ll have a day or two in between. We can meet in Cambridge. What do you think?”
“I’d like that. You never did tell me what a punt is.”
“It’s a boat, with a flat bottom. I haven’t a clue how they work, but I guess between the two of us, we should be able to figure it out. What do you say, Ilke? Are you still up for it?”
“Yes, it sounds lovely.” The mute appeal in his eyes made it impossible for her to refuse.
“Good. We have to go to Grantchester. There’s lots of fields and good places to have a picnic. It’ll be great. We’ve both been working hard. It’ll be nice to have a day of peace and quiet.”
“It will.”
After his second beer, Francis glanced at his watch. “Damn, I’d better drink up. I’ve got a train to catch. I’ll see you back to the base.”
“It’s all right. There’s plenty of buses. You need to catch your train. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
Outside, the wind had finally dropped and rain fell softly onto the roof of the porch. There were several people waiting for the bus in the darkness.
“There’s no need for you to wait for me to get my bus,” Ilona told Francis. “Go and get your train. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. Go.”
“All right.” He squeezed her shoulder and kissed her, a fleeting, soft kiss. “Thanks, again, Ilke. I’ll see you soon. Look after yourself.”
“You had better look after yourself.” She wanted him to kiss her again.
He didn’t fail her, another kiss, as light as a moth’s wing. “Bye, Ilke.”
She watched him disappear swiftly into the darkness and still felt the press of his lips against hers.
* * * *
Ilona was sorry to say goodbye to Mildenhall. She had recovered herself there and had found peace and comfort. The one consolation, apart from saying goodbye to the flat Brecks, was that two other WAAFs were also being transferred to Duxford so she, at least, would be among friends. It was always more than a little intimidating on that first day, walking into a hut full of strangers and wondering if they would get along. Grace was not one of them and there were tears as Ilona packed her bag and prepared to leave.
“It won’t be the same without you,” Grace sniffed, as she slumped on the edge of her cot. “I’ll miss you.”
Ilona wiped her eyes. Grace had been the one who had helped her find her way out of the grief and darkness of Ian’s death. She owed her an impossible debt. “Not half as much as I’ll miss you. You will never know how much you helped me.”
Grace smiled suddenly. “I have a pretty good idea and I’m glad I could help. It’s not something that anyone should ever have to go through without friends.” She hugged Ilona. “Take care of yourself, Ilke, and remember…live, enjoy what happens and try not to worry. I want to hear all about your day in Cambridge. Don’t forget that.”
“It will be very boring. Dear Grace, today I went to Cambridge. I sat in a boat, and we had a picnic in a field, surrounded by hungry cows and angry wasps. But, I promise, I’ll tell you everything.”
“You’d better.” Another hug. “You’ll have a lovely day. I’d be willing to bet that things will go very well for you both.”
Ilona laughed. “Ever the matchmaker… Don’t hold your breath.”
“Yes, yes, I know…friends and nothing more.”
Betty and L
ily were all packed and ready to leave and Ilona picked up her bag and gave her friend a final hug. “Take care of yourself, and don’t forget to write. We might, because you know we will be too busy fighting off all those handsome fighter pilots down at Duxford.”
“That’s all right. It just means more Bomber Boys for me.”
Ilona walked to the door and stood on the top steps to wave. She looked back and tried to smile, deciding that the worst thing about war was the goodbyes.
Chapter Twelve
Ilona sat on the bench with her book, thankful that it was in the shade of the station building. Whilst Cambridge station was miserably exposed to the wind and the rain, it was also baking hot in the warmth of the mid May morning. Happily, it was a short journey from Duxford to Cambridge and she was glad that she had a day’s leave that coincided with Francis’. He had two days between postings and would be staying in Cambridge overnight. The same train that would take her back to Duxford went on to Audley End, which was where he was to be collected at the end of the day. Everything, when it came to leave, always seemed to fall into place where Francis was concerned. Grace would have told her it was fate. Ilona supposed that the glorious summery day was also down to fate. It would be perfect for sitting on a boat and in a meadow. She was glad that she had asked her mother to send a summer dress, albeit an old one from before the war. It was a bit dated but the yellow cotton was cool. She returned to her book, happy to sit in the shade and wait.
“Ah.” Francis appeared before her. “There you are. I always seem to find you with your nose in a book.”
She put the book away and rose. “That’s because I like to read.”
He kissed her cheek. “Hello, Ilke. It’s good to see you.”
“It’s nice to see you too.” Summer suited him and she thought he looked at ease in trousers and a white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal arms that had already begun to turn brown.
A Kestrel Rising Page 11