A Kestrel Rising

by S. A. Laybourn

  Ilona sighed and read through the letter again. “Perhaps… It seems that Francis may be posted overseas. Bloody RAF.” It didn’t seem fair that, just when their friendship had become so easy to live with, Francis would be upping sticks and going elsewhere.

  “Admit it. You just want him to kiss you again.” Betty laughed.

  “Perhaps I do, just for fun. I suppose I had better write back to him.”

  Dear Francis,

  Thank you for your letter. I am not surprised that you’re busy. I can’t imagine what it must be like for you, after almost three years with the 19th to be thrown into a completely different squadron and have to find your way around so quickly. I find it a real nuisance, being shifted from pillar to post, and I can tell you that there’s nothing worse, for me than walking into a hut full of complete strangers. At least, this time, Betty and Lily came from Mildenhall with me, so it was much easier. It has to be tougher for you, because your life, literally, depends on the others in your squadron.

  I am very sorry to hear that you may be going overseas. I hope it does not happen because I, also, have really come to value our friendship, probably for the same reason—the constancy which we so need at times like these. As for my ‘serenity’, that comes as a surprise to me. I never really considered myself a serene person at all, and, yes, I did blush when I read that, but I forgive you your late night ramble. I can be just as bad. I hope that we do get a chance to meet again before you go. If it’s any help, we do get most Saturday nights off and go to the pub. It is the highlight of the week and I can certainly understand why you speak so fondly of the John Barleycorn. It is charming and there’s nothing nicer than sitting outside on a warm summer’s evening listening to the birdsong. Are there any nice pubs down your way? Have you had a chance to find out, yet?

  Some news from my family. Ash is pregnant. Needless to say, plans for the wedding have changed dramatically and I think they plan on getting married within the next week or so. Sadly, I won’t be able to make it, but I think Mama and Papa were going to try and get there. Would it be wrong of me to say that I was not at all surprised? I do hope that everything works out for them and I suppose that Ash will be will be leaving the WRNS before too long and moving back home. Mama still can’t quite believe that she is going to be a grandmother. She refuses to believe that she’s old enough and she says that she is not going to start knitting booties and blankets. Aunty Ilke won’t be knitting either, mainly, because she can’t.

  I must go. It’s time to head over to the canteen for dinner. I have to say that I’m starving. It seems like ages since lunch.

  Take care,

  Regards, etc.

  Ilke

  * * * *

  “I’ll get this round.” Ilona rose from the table. It was their first visit to the pub since the end of June and the first warm day for a week. Lily and Betty had also managed to make the escape. They all sat at a table outside, overlooking the quiet lane. The evening was still and the silence pierced by the calls of swifts and a mourning dove. Ilona took everyone’s orders and walked into the warm, smoky gloom of the pub.

  “Same again for everyone, love?” the barmaid asked as Ilona put the empty glasses down.

  “Yes please.” She leaned against the bar and gazed at the horse brasses gleaming on the dark wooden beams. She hadn’t heard from Francis for a fortnight and wondered if he had left the country. The barmaid placed the drinks on the tray and Ilona handed her the money.

  “Ilke,” Betty whispered, her face flushed. “There’s a tall handsome American outside looking for you.”

  “Nice try, Betty. Stop teasing.”

  “No, really.” Her friend grabbed her arm. “Never mind about the drinks, I’ll wait for the change. You get out there.”

  “What does he look like?”

  She held her arm up. “About that high, brown hair and the most gorgeous, melty brown eyes.”

  “Melty brown eyes?” That sounded like Francis and Ilona felt lightness inside. “All right, I’ll go and see for myself.” She tried not to hurry to the door and hoped that she looked calmer than she felt. She was annoyed with the fluttering of her stomach.

  He rested against the low wall, hands in his pockets, by the table where two men in dress blues had joined the girls, who were chatting excitedly. She smiled when he grinned at her.

  “Hello, Ilke.” He put his hand on her shoulder and kissed her cheek. “It’s nice to see you.”

  “What a nice surprise. I thought you had gone.”

  “No, it seems that you can’t get rid of me that easily. We’re not going now.”

  “Thank goodness for that.”

  He glanced over her shoulder. “We have an audience. There are two women goggling at us, craning their necks to hear every word.”

  She giggled. “I suppose we had better go and join them.”

  “If we must.”

  “It would be very rude not to.”

  Space was made for them at the table, and Francis found a couple of chairs. Everyone fell into talking. Ilona was amused by her companions’ flirtation with the two Americans.

  “You’re looking well.” He leaned close.

  “Thank you.” She thought that he looked very well.

  He took a sip of his beer and studied the foam on the side of the glass for a moment. “We were supposed to go to Russia, so we had a lucky escape.”

  “Yes, you did. That’s a world away.”

  “I’m glad we didn’t go. I wasn’t looking forward to it, not just being there, but also being so far away. I can’t imagine I would have been able to write.”

  She was surprised at the relief she felt. “I’m glad you didn’t go. That would’ve been dreadful.”

  He grinned. “For you or for me?”

  “I’m relieved for you. I can’t imagine that it would have been a very hospitable place.”

  His hand strayed toward hers and covered it. “Now we can think about Cambridge, again.”

  “That would be nice.”

  They got caught up in the conversation around the table for a while. Harry, Francis’ wingman, bought the next round of drinks as the sun began to slide beyond the trees.

  “Can we go for a walk?” Francis whispered in her ear. “I need to talk to you.”

  “Yes, all right.” Her pulse quickened. She wasn’t sure whether it was from excitement or apprehension.

  He rose and helped her with her chair. “We’re just going for a little walk before it gets too dark.” He held out his hand and Ilona took it, ignoring Lily’s raised eyebrow. They strolled along the quiet lane while the swifts called out in pursuit of midges and bats emerged in the silvery dusk. They walked close, their shoulders touching.

  “Is everything all right?”

  “I’ve been thinking, Ilke. This war isn’t going to get any easier or any less dangerous, especially if we finally manage to get onto the continent. If anything happens to me, my parents get a telegram, as next of kin. I don’t want you to have to get a letter from your parents or my grandparents telling you the news. I don’t think that’s fair on you, because you deserve more than that”—he offered her a sad smile—“my constant friend.”

  Ilona swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat. This wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have. She fought with memories she didn’t want to remember.

  “I’ve had a word with Harry,” he continued. “I’ve made him promise that if anything happens to me, he’s to come and tell you himself. After all, he’s my wingman. He’ll know more than anyone will. Plus, he has a car, so he can drive here sooner rather than later.”

  “You would do that for me?”

  He trailed his fingers across her cheek. “I think it’s only fair, don’t you? You’re very important to me. You’ve kept me sane these past few months.”

  Ilona stared at him numbly.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I…I think so. I just don’t know what to say. I don’t want to think about
anything happening to you.”

  “Neither do I, but I thought it would be best to be prepared, just in case.”

  Her mind was a tangle of thoughts. Old hurts rose to the surface and she pushed them away but quick tears betrayed her and she dashed at her eyes with her hand.

  “Ilke.” He drew her into his arms. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m sorry.”

  Ilona let him hold her, not caring that they were standing in the middle of a quiet lane in the gathering dusk while bats fluttered overhead and the waning moon crept above the shadowed rooftops. He moved his hand through her hair and his lips brushed her temple, a light, fleeting touch. “It’s all right,” he whispered. “I’ll do my best not to hurt you.”

  “I know.” She sniffed.

  He put his hand under her chin and kissed her. It was sweet, languid and stirred up things that she had long forgotten. Ilona responded with equal deliberation, letting her hands drift to his face to feel the warmth of his skin against the evening chill.

  He kissed her palm and sighed. “I could do this all night, Ilke, but you do realize that we’re standing in the middle of the road, it’s getting dark and there is a blackout. We will likely be run over.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.” She felt regret when he let her go.

  “We should get back to the pub.”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t worry. There will be other times, preferably somewhere more private.” He caught her hand and kissed it. “If that’s all right with you.”

  “That would be fine.” Ilona wanted more.

  They turned back toward the pub. “I’ll hold you to that, one day.”

  “Don’t worry, I shan’t forget.”

  “Did you get lost?” This was Harry. “Your drinks are getting warm.”

  “It’s a nice evening. We had a walk. That’s all.” Francis retrieved his beer.

  “Are you sure? Is that hay I see in Ilona’s hair? Did you find a haystack?”

  Ilona laughed and Francis squeezed her hand. “Alas, no,” he replied. “Not this time.”

  Betty giggled. “Ilke, a haystack? Surely not!”

  The conversation steered to other topics and they sat in the moonlit darkness until the landlord called for closing time.

  “I guess we should get back,” Harry said, “before we get in trouble. Squeeze in, girls. We’ll take you back.”

  Six of them managed to fit into the car. Ilona sat on Francis’ knees. He put his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. She wished that the drive to the base was more than a few minutes when his fingers strayed in the darkness. She quivered. His lips were soft on her ear. When they arrived at the base, he got out of the car with her. As her companions headed toward the gate, he kissed her once more. “Take care, Ilke. I’ll see you again soon.”

  “I hope so.” She kissed him back. “Be careful.”

  “I will.” He climbed back into the car. “I’ll write soon.”

  She waved until the car had disappeared and Betty coughed from the shadows.

  * * * *

  “Just friends?” Lily asked the following morning as they prepared for another day on duty. “Are you sure about that, Ilke?”

  “I’m not so sure, anymore.” She fastened her boots. “Not after last night.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? What did you two get up to when you were gone?”

  She laughed. “Nothing naughty, I can assure you. We weren’t gone long enough for that.”

  “Does that mean that, had the opportunity presented itself, you would have?”

  Ilona shrugged. “Who knows? I think so. Yes, I think I would have.”

  “Ha! I knew it!” Lily grinned. “You’re finally giving in.

  “I can’t seem to help myself.” Ilona sighed. “After all, I’m only flesh and blood.”

  “Flesh and blood that he can’t take his eyes off,” Betty observed. “He is obviously very fond of you.”

  “I think you’re right there.” She picked up her cap.

  “So what about you? Is the feeling mutual?”

  “The only thing I know for certain is that I don’t know.”

  “Oh, Ilke, it’s not because he’s a pilot, is it? What have we both told you about that? If Grace was here, she’d give you a right earful.”

  She sighed. “I know. It seems to be ingrained in me. I promise that I will try to let go of that. I really will.”

  “Good girl. You know it will be worth it in the end.” Betty picked up her gas mask. “Now, I suppose we had better go before we’re late.”

  * * * *

  Dear Grace,

  I hope all is well with you up at Mildenhall. I’m sorry I haven’t written for a while, but it’s busy, busy, busy—more than usual. Something is up here. There seem to have been quite a few men with briefcases on base lately. The driver’s room at the depot is cluttered with very snooty WAAFs who have brought their Very Important Passengers here. One of the girls in the hut, who drives a bus, says that the pilots have been having a lot of briefings these past couple of days. So, something big must be in the offing. I guess we’ll find out soon enough.

  Betty, Lily and I had a night out in Duxford a few weeks ago. We went to the pub. Nothing exciting in that, you’re thinking. Why are you telling me, Ilke? I can hear your voice now. We ended up with some extra companions because Francis turned up with two of his colleagues from the 71st. It seems that one of them is fortunate enough to have a car. I can’t tell you how nice it was to see Francis again. I think he’s finally beginning to mean something more to me. Is that cheering I hear? We took a little walk and he told me that he’s arranged things so that if anything happens to him, his friend Harry is to come and tell me. Not really what I wanted to hear and, crybaby that I am, I stood there in the middle of the road, sniveling. He took me in his arms and apologized for making me cry. Grace, it felt so good to be held again, to feel that comfort and when he kissed me? Ah, well…I finally realized that it was worth whatever pain may come. I still don’t know how I feel about him, but to put it bluntly, I need him. I suppose, for me, that’s progress. I am, as I told the girls, mere flesh and blood and some feelings can’t be fought, no matter how hard you try. I think you might have been proud of me! I just pray that he stays safe.

  So that’s all my news, for now, apart from my sister finally getting over her morning sickness. Mama says she is huge and the doctor suspects twins. Mama is torn between horror at the prospect of two small babies in the house again and delight. I can imagine visits home won’t be that peaceful from now on. I still refuse to believe I’m going to be an aunt, and I’m still not knitting anything.

  I will write again soon. Try and behave yourself. I’m off to bed. It’s been a long day.

  Regards, etc.

  Ilke

  Ilona put the letter in an envelope and stared at the other drivers in the room. One or two WAAFs gazed out of the grimy window. They looked uncomfortable in their dress blues and eyed her overalls with distaste. She didn’t care. She was grateful that she didn’t have to spend her days waiting for officers to finish very long meetings. At least driving kept her busy and kept her from thinking too much. The fighter squadrons had left early and there was talk in the canteen of a big operation in progress. She could not help wondering if Francis was involved, because someone had mentioned that most of the Spitfire squadrons were airborne.

  “ACW Lowe.” The depot sergeant put his head around the door. “Your lorry is ready to go.”

  She rose, gave the two WAAFs her falsest smile and departed on another round of deliveries.

  When Ilona returned to the hut at the end of the day, she found everyone huddled by the radio. Lily made room for her as the news announcer began.

  “Allied troops have pulled back after nine hours of heavy fighting on the French coast at Dieppe, northwest of Paris. The withdrawal brings to an end the largest operation yet to include the army, navy and air force at the same time. Combined O
perations have issued a statement saying that the raid had been completed as planned…”

  Ilona listened as the announcer gave an account of the action and waited anxiously for news of the RAF.

  “In the air, British pilots had a fierce confrontation with the Luftwaffe. Several planes were lost in low flying attacks on the German gun emplacements and, in all, the RAF lost ninety-one aircraft, the most in a single day’s fighting since the war started…”

  The rest of the news report faded into a dull hum. Ilona looked down at her hands, fighting the fear that gnawed at her guts. She was aware that Lily and Betty watched her, but she managed to give them a reassuring smile. She was not going to let it get the better of her, not this time.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “ACW Lowe.” The depot sergeant found her in the garage, checking the tires of her lorry. “There’s someone to see you.”

  A sudden knot of ice formed in her stomach. “Yes, Sergeant Sharp, sir.” She thrust her hands into her pockets and curled them into tight fists until her fingernails dug into her palms. Her legs shook when she followed the sergeant into the office.

  “Hello, Ilona.” Harry, Francis’ wingman, stood by the door, twisting his cap in his hands.

  “Harry?” She sat down, aware that the Sergeant was listening. “Is it Francis?” She didn’t know how she managed to find her voice.

  Harry took the other seat. “Yes, but it’s not what you think.”

  “What’s happened?” She couldn’t bring herself to speak above a whisper. Her heart hammered and she wanted to be sick. “Something happened to him at Dieppe, didn’t it?”

  “We were on bomber escort. We’d just crossed the coast and the bombers were beginning their run…” He took a deep breath. “We had open sky—or so we thought. Then a whole swarm of Messerschmitts fell on us from out of nowhere. We had to turn and fight, you know, to let the bombers do their job. They were all over the place, swarming like goddamn wasps. Francis and I stuck together and then someone behind us said that we had bandits on our tails.”