“That’s all I want too.” She rolled away from him. “Close your eyes.”
He laughed. “Why?”
“I want to give you something.” She climbed to her feet and tiptoed away from the blanket, searching through the grass. She glanced back. He lay face down, resting his head on his arms. “No peeping.”
“I’m not peeping.” His voice was muffled.
“Good.” She found a clump of heather and waved a bee away.
“Is it nice? Will I like it?”
“You might.” She knelt and carefully picked a long sprig, heavy with tiny flowers.
“Does it involve you taking your clothes off?”
She giggled. “No.” It was all she could give him. Words would have to wait until they were both free to speak them. She crept back and knelt before him. “You can open your eyes now.”
He sat up, blinking.
Ilona took another deep breath. “I know that there are things that you want to leave unsaid until we’re both free of this war. I understand that, darling.” She looked down at the flower in her hand. “But, I’ve learned the hard way that we can’t take anything for granted. It scares me that you could go on a mission tomorrow and never come back.” She wiped her eyes. “After Ian died, his friend gave me some things that he’d left for me, in case anything happened to him. There was a book of poems. One of the pages was marked with a flower, just like this. He must’ve picked it on the day he asked me to marry him. It was his way of remembering the day, I suppose.” Tears spilled down her face. “I want you to remember this day. I don’t have anything else to give you.” Ilona placed the heather into his hand and closed his fingers over it.
“Ilke.” His voice was hoarse. “You don’t have to give me anything. You’ve already given me so much. More than I deserve.”
She placed her fingers on his lips. “I want you to know how much you mean to me.” She sat back on her heels and looked at him. “How much I care for you. You have always said that I keep you sane, that I’m your sanctuary…” She managed a watery smile. “Now it’s my turn. When Ian was killed I was convinced that I would never be happy again. I was determined not to let myself get hurt. I just didn’t think I could bear the pain.” Her hand fell away from his mouth and she leaned forward and kissed him. “He made me promise to live and I didn’t think it was possible. You changed that. If I gave you sanctuary, you gave me a reason to enjoy life again.”
“Ilke, darling girl.” He reached for her and held her. “Thank you.”
He smelled of sunlight. She felt him tremble as his hands glided down her back then up to her face. She tasted her tears on his lips when he kissed her, a deep, languid kiss that left her boneless and clinging to him.
“Sweetheart,” he whispered against her mouth. “If there was ever a reason for me to get through this war in one piece, it’s you.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Lowe, there’s a message for you.”
Ilona handed in the lorry keys and looked at the desk sergeant, “Sir?” It had been a long day and she was tired. “A message?”
He took the keys and handed her a piece of paper. “A phone call, Lowe.”
She looked at the sergeant’s writing.
Please phone 1st Lieutenant Harry Deutch at USAAF Debden.
Her hands began to shake. “Is there a phone I can use, sir?”
“Use mine,” the sergeant told her, holding his chair out for her.
“Thank you, sir.” She sat down and dialed the number with some difficulty. She squeezed her eyes shut as the phone rang. After a few rings, someone answered and she asked for Harry. She was told to hang on and, in the background, someone yelled for Harry. After an agonizing wait, Harry picked up the phone. “Deutch here.”
“Harry? It’s Ilke. I had a message to phone you.”
“Yes, that was me.” He sighed and paused. “It’s Francis.”
“What’s happened?” She could hardly hold the phone to her ear. “Is he all right?”
“He’s safe but we had a little trouble today. We were on a strafing run over in France. Francis was climbing out of a low pass and he caught some flak. It came up through the wing and he was hit pretty badly in the leg and in his hip. The hydraulics were damaged too. He could have put down behind our lines, but he was insistent that we get back home. The problem was his wounds but, lucky for him, the shrapnel missed his artery. But he was cut up pretty bad and he was hurting. I had to keep him talking all the way back to keep him from passing out. He was close enough that I could see his head nodding a few times, so I’d have to shout at him to wake him up and keep him going. He dipped once or twice and I thought he was going to go down in the drink.” He halted
Ilona could hear him light a cigarette. She wished, for a moment, that she smoked because she wanted something to do with her hands, to stop them from shaking.
He continued. “Sometimes, Francis’ stubborn streak is a good thing. It got him home. When we got back to base, he realized that his landing gear was busted because of the damage to the hydraulics. It wouldn’t go down on the starboard side, so he had to fly around and dump as much fuel as he could, because he had to retract the other gear and land the kite on its belly. If he’d had too much fuel on board, he could’ve gone up in flames. I don’t know how he did it, Ilke, but he brought that plane in real good. He slid a bit and that was all. He was damn lucky. By the time he got down, there was an ambulance waiting, because I’d called ahead for one. When we got to the plane, he’d passed out. Honestly, I can’t figure out how he managed to keep that plane in the air all that time. He is one tough son of a bitch. We got him out of the plane, into an ambulance, and he was taken off to hospital.”
Ilona sat for a minute, trying to absorb the story. She trembled and clutched the phone with both hands.
“Is he going to be all right?”
“I think so. He bled a fair bit so he was weak, but they were going to operate and take the shrapnel out as soon as he got to hospital.”
“Where’s the hospital?”
“It’s up at Redgrave Hall, near Diss. It’s the 65th General Hospital. It’s where they send all the pilots if they get carved up. That’s in your neck of the woods, isn’t it?”
“It’s about thirty miles away, so it’s not far. I’ll get there, somehow. Are you sure he’s going to be all right?”
“He’ll be okay, they think, if they can get the shrapnel out and keep the wounds clean. He was real lucky. We lost nine men today. Someone was looking out for him, I reckon.”
“You were, for a start, Harry. You saved his life.” She looked at the ceiling and wanted to cry.
“Hey, I’m his wingman. That’s what I’m supposed to do, keep an eye on him. He’d have done the same for me.”
“I know.” She swallowed. “He would.”
“Well, you make sure you get up there and see him. It’ll do him the world of good. We need him back here and he needs you. He talked about you a lot when we were flying back and I kind of used you as a stick to beat him with when I thought he was going to pass out. I told him that you’d have my nuts on a plate if I didn’t get him back in one piece.”
In spite of everything, she laughed. “No, I would never do that but, if it worked, then that’s a good thing. Thank you, Harry. Thank you for letting me know.”
“Captain’s orders, honey. He swore me to secrecy over some of the things he told me up there, but I think you can guess.”
“I can, and thanks again.”
“When you’ve seen him, will you call and let me know how he’s doing?”
“Of course I will. Goodbye, Harry.” She set the phone down and stared blankly at the mug of tea and at the sergeant.
“Is everything all right, Lowe?”
She shook her head, “No, sir. It’s my boyfriend. He’s been hurt. They’ve taken him to the Hospital near Diss.”
“Redgrave Hall, there’s a big Yank hospital there for their Air Force chaps.”
&nb
sp; “That’s the one.” She glanced at the clock. It had just gone three in the afternoon and she wondered if she would make it by nightfall.
“I guess you want some time off.”
“If that’s all right, sir. I’d like to try and get there today, if I can. They’ll have operated on him by now. I’d like to be there.” She knew that she would be good for nothing if she had to stay on the base.
He nodded. “Drink your tea and I’ll find out about buses, then go and get yourself tidied up. Take as long as you need.”
“Thank you, sir. I really appreciate that.”
“I think we can manage without you for a day or two. You won’t be much good to anyone if you’re too busy fretting over your boyfriend.”
She sipped her tea and the sergeant picked up the phone and made some enquiries, scribbling down bus numbers and times on a piece of paper. By the time she had finished her tea, he had an itinerary all written out for her. “I’ll see if I can get the number of the place and I’ll phone and tell them you’re on your way, so they let you in. What’s your boyfriend’s name?”
“Francis,” she told him. “Captain Francis Robson. He’s with the 4th Fighter Group, 334th squadron.”
“Right. You go off and get changed and catch your bus. You’ve got time. Just get back here when you can.”
“Thanks, again, sir.” She took the piece of paper and tucked it in her pocket. “I’ll return as soon as I can.” She wanted to kiss him. Instead, she saluted and backed toward the door.
“I hope he’s going to be all right, Lowe. Good luck.”
* * * *
The sergeant had done his research well and Ilona found herself dropped off at the gates of Redgrave Hall less than two hours after she’d left the depot. She walked up to the guardhouse where a military policeman asked for her identification. When she told him her name, he smiled and said that she was expected and he would phone for a jeep to take her up the drive. She waited outside in the late afternoon sunlight, marveling at the kindness of the sergeant who, clearly, had not only informed them of her arrival, but had seen to it that she was to be taken care of. She just wanted to see Francis and would have gladly walked up the drive if that was what it took, but after a few minutes a Jeep, driven by another MP, arrived at the guardhouse. “Miss Lowe?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Hop aboard, miss. I’ll take you up to the hospital.”
She climbed into the Jeep and watched the open parkland sweep past as they headed back up the drive to a collection of Nissen huts and tents. The MP dropped her off in front of the reception and told her that someone in there would show her where to go. She thanked him and walked, shakily, into the hut. A man in army fatigues sat behind a desk and he glanced up as she walked in.
“Can I help you, miss?”
“I’m here to see Captain Francis Robson,” she said, trying to keep the tremor from her voice. “I was told he arrived here today.”
He picked up a clipboard and examined it. “Would you be Miss Lowe?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Your sergeant called and told us to expect you.” He rose. “Follow me. I’ll take you to the ward. The nurse there will tell you all you need to know.”
Ilona followed him back outside and into the cluster of huts. After a few minutes, he paused at the door of one of the huts.
“This is the one. Just ask for Second Lieutenant Jackson, she’ll take care of you.”
She gave him a grateful smile and stepped into the ward, not sure what to expect. She found a long, orderly, decently lit ward, with two rows of beds, one against each curved wall. There was a comforting air of calm about the place but she was overwhelmed by the number of patients there.
“Can I help you?” A nurse in pristine whites appeared out of nowhere, holding a metal tray with a collection of instruments on it.
“I was told to ask for Second Lieutenant Jackson.”
The nurse smiled. “That’s me, and you must be Miss Lowe.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You’ve come to see Captain Robson.”
“Yes, if that’s all right.”
“Of course it is. We don’t get many visitors here, so it’s a little unusual, but apparently, your sergeant was most insistent that we let you see Captain Robson.”
“How is he?”
“He just came out of surgery about an hour or two ago, so he’s still out of it. The surgeon managed to get all the junk out and clean everything up. He’s going to be a little uncomfortable for a while but, provided the wounds stay clean, he’ll be fine.” She set the tray down on a desk. “I’ll take you to him and you can sit with him. I guess he may start to come ‘round in an hour or two. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”
“Thank you.” She followed her guide along the rows of beds, just wanting to be with Francis, just wanting to see for herself that he was all right. The nurse stopped about half way along the ward. “Here we are. Just wait a minute and I’ll find you a chair.” She left and Ilona stared down at the man on the bed. It took her a moment or two to recognize him. He was still, thin and pale, and a long tube led from his arm to a bottle suspended from a pole. His face was gray and his eyes were underlined with crescents as dark as bruises. She sat on the edge of the bed and picked up one unresisting hand. It was cool to the touch and his long fingers did not react as she stroked the back of his hand with her thumb. Only the steady, almost imperceptible rise and fall of his chest gave any indication of normality at all.
The second lieutenant returned with a chair and Ilona watched her as she felt Francis’ pulse, listened to his breathing and checked the bottle.
“He’ll be fine.” She patted Ilona’s hand. “There’s water here, which he can sip if he comes round. Let me know when he wakes, and I’ll check him over. It shouldn’t be long now.”
“Thank you.”
“Your name wouldn’t be Ilke by any chance, would it?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She smiled. “I thought as much, because when he first came in, he was talking in his sleep. He said your name a lot, so I’m guessing he’ll be very pleased to see you when he wakes.” She turned and walked away, leaving Ilona sitting on the chair, waiting.
The events of the day soon caught up with her and, despite the fact that she sat upright in an uncomfortable chair, she dozed off holding Francis’ hand. Her dreams were a confusion of planes and buses, women in white and rows of beds filled with sleeping men. When she awoke, the ward was a lot darker, illuminated by amber pools of light through which the nurses moved silently. She looked at Francis who still slept, but his hand was now curled around her own and the pallor of earlier had gone, replaced by the faintest flush of pink. As she watched him, his eyelids fluttered and he moaned. She waited, not daring to speak, just watching and hoping, and he finally opened his eyes. It took a moment or two for them to focus but, then, he found her and the smile made the long day, the worry and the heartache worthwhile.
“Ilke?” he whispered. “Am I dreaming?”
She squeezed his hand and smiled back, weak with relief. “No, I’m really here.”
He winced. “Where’s here?”
“The American Hospital, Redgrave Hall, don’t you remember?”
“Not a damn thing, not yet anyway.” He tried to sit up.
She eased him back. “Let me fetch a nurse before you try sitting up,” she told him, reluctant to let go of his hand. She rose and glanced around. Second Lieutenant Jackson was still on duty and Ilona caught her eye. She nodded and made her way over.
“Good evening, Captain Robson. I see you’ve finally decided to join us. How are you feeling?” She checked his pulse.
“Like I’ve been run over by a tank,” he replied, his voice weak.
“That’s to be expected. You gave the surgeon quite a bit of work to do. Do you want to sit up?”
He nodded, unable to speak because she’d put a thermometer in his mouth.
She plumped up hi
s pillow and Ilona helped her ease him into a sitting position, earning a warm smile.
“Is that better, Captain?”
Another nod and she took the thermometer back and held it to the light.
“Your temperature is fine, which is good. I think you’ll probably survive, Captain. I’ll leave you with Miss Lowe. She’ll let me know if you need anything.”
“Thanks,” He leaned back against the pillow and squeezed Ilona’s hand once more. “How long have you been here?”
“I have no idea. I got here as soon as I could.”
“How did you know?”
“Harry phoned me.”
He closed his eyes. “Good. I won’t have to hide his records away again. Did he tell you what happened?”
“Yes.” She touched his face. “You were very lucky.”
He caught her hand and kissed it. “I know, and I did tell you how dangerous it was.”
“As long as you’re all right now.”
“I would be if it didn’t hurt so damn much. I really thought I was done for. There was blood everywhere. Harry had to keep threatening me and shouting to stop me from passing out.”
“I know, he told me.”
“If I’d been smart, I’d have put down behind our lines, but with all that fuel, it could’ve been nasty. I just wanted to get back home. I wanted to get back to you and I guess it paid off because here you are. It’s not quite the reunion I had in mind, but it’s wonderful to see you here, sweetheart.”
She wanted to crawl into bed beside him and gather him into her arms until the lines of pain on his face went away. “It’s lovely to see you too.”
“Can I kiss you, please?”
She sat on the edge of the bed. He took her face between his hands and his kiss was sweet and gentle, reminding her of Christmas Eve.
“I feel better now.” His eyes were warm. “Thank you, darling.”
“You’re welcome.” She touched his face and returned to her chair with regret.
He winced and closed his eyes, falling back against the pillow. “It bloody hurts, Ilke.”
A Kestrel Rising Page 25