With a following wind he was making good time and got as far as Speke before an ominous clunk from the engine forced him to land. He was given a bed for the night in the officers’ quarters and retired early, determined to continue his journey at first light. Knowing the mechanics would be working on the plane to get it repaired by morning, he slept as soon as his head touched the pillow.
‘Sir, wake up!’
Jack opened his eyes and saw a sergeant standing beside the bed with a mug in his hand. He took the tea and drank thirstily. The blackout shutters were still in place and the room was lit with only a low wattage bulb. ‘What time is it? Have I overslept?’
‘It’s six o’clock, sir. There’s a phone call for you.’
‘Who the hell’s phoning at this hour? It isn’t even light yet!’
‘It’s your HQ, and they said it was urgent that they contact you before you left this morning.’
He was immediately out of bed and pulling on his clothes.
It must be something out of the ordinary for them to call him so early. The sergeant took him to an operations room where he was handed a phone. ‘Nelson,’ he said briskly.
‘Jack …’ Rob hesitated. ‘Sorry about the early call but I wanted to tell you this myself, and I knew you’d be on your way at dawn. There’s been an accident. Late yesterday afternoon Don took off from Weston-super-Mare when his engine caught fire. An eyewitness said he was too low to bail out and it looked as if he was heading out to sea. The RAF Sea Rescue searched while there was still enough light and then gave up. They’ll try again this morning.’
Jack took a deep breath. ‘Thanks for letting me know, Rob.’
‘Phone me when you reach Prestwick and I’ll let you know if he’s been found.’
‘Right, I’ll do that. Oh, and Rob, when we were on the ship coming over, Don told me he couldn’t swim.’
‘Damn!’ was Rob’s only comment before he put down the phone.
‘Bad news, sir?’ The sergeant was studying him with curiosity.
Jack nodded. ‘There’s been an accident and the man I came over here with is missing.’
‘Is he in the drink, sir?’
‘What?’
‘Ain’t you never heard that expression before? I don’t suppose you would have, you being Canadian. It means has he gone down in the sea?’
‘Oh, yes, they think he might have.’ The corners of Jack’s mouth turned up in a wry smile. He was always being taken for a Canadian. ‘And I’m American.’
‘Really?’ The sergeant frowned. ‘That’s right. I did hear that some of you had come over.’
‘There are quite a few of us now. We have private pilot licenses and the ATA need all the help they can get, so here we are.’
‘And right good of you too, sir.’ The sergeant surveyed him with respect. ‘You’re all doing a necessary job. I’ve seen a few women climbing in and out of planes, as well. Came as a bit of a shock at first, I can tell you.’
‘Wait until you see them flying Spitfires.’ Jack couldn’t resist the tease.
‘Oh, never, sir! They can’t do that!’ He was shaking his head in denial. ‘Those little girls can’t fly fighters. How you finding things over here, then?’
‘I’m enjoying the work. The camaraderie is terrific and we’ve been welcomed by everyone in the ATA.’ Jack was happy to chat, pushing away his worry about Don. Losing family and friends was part of everyday life in this war. He’d only been here a short time, but he’d seen many people stoically deal with their grief and carry on. They were determined to win, and it was the only way. He’d chosen to join in their struggle, and he also had a job to do.
‘There’s only one problem. We’re supposed to have a common language but, as you’ve just seen, I find some of the expressions difficult to understand, and it’s easy to get into trouble if we say the wrong thing – like calling someone a bum.’
The sergeant smirked. ‘Ah, well, you would. Not the thing at all. Sorry about your mate, but they’ll do their best to find him.’
This man was being kind and understanding and Jack appreciated that. ‘If I know Don, I expect he came down in the shallow end.’
‘That’s right, sir. Now, how about I rustle you up some breakfast and then you can make an early start? The weather’s holding good, according to the Met boys.’
As soon as Jack landed at Prestwick, he checked in and then phoned Rob.
‘Good news, Jack. The Home Guard found Don on the beach last night, unconscious, but he’s alive. He’s safely tucked up in hospital now. They didn’t know who he was because he wasn’t wearing his jacket and he had no identification on him. He seems to have lost everything in his struggle to get out of the plane. He’s regained consciousness now and has been able to tell them who he is.’
‘Thank God!’
‘Yeah.’ There was an amused rumble from Rob. ‘He told them that he didn’t have enough height to jump so he thought the sea might be softer. He could see the shore, and although he can’t swim, he managed to doggy-paddle ashore. He was exhausted and crawled to a sheltered spot before passing out. The Home Guard found him soon after he reached the shore, thank God, or he would have died of cold.’
Jack let out a ragged sigh of relief. If Don was telling the tale then he was all right. ‘The stupid bastard. Still, he’s alive and I’ll buy him a pint when I get back.’
‘How are you going to get back?’ Rob asked.
‘Don’t know yet. I’ll see if I can pick up another delivery.’
‘See you when you get back then.’
Jack put down the phone and, as he went to get tea and see about another plane, there was a spring in his step.
Chapter Nine
‘We’ve all got a couple of days off for Christmas, so what are you going to do, Gussie?’ Ruth asked, as they sat around the kitchen table after a long day’s work.
‘I’m taking Don home with me. I thought a real family Christmas would do him good after the crash.’
Tricia looked up after checking the toast under the grill. ‘I don’t know how he survived that. The sea’s no place to end up in at this time of year.’
‘He said he doesn’t remember much after he reached the shore. But the Home Guard arrested him thinking he might be a German. One was standing by his bed when he came round and wouldn’t leave until everyone was satisfied he was an ATA pilot. He’d had a terrible struggle to get out of the plane before it disappeared under the waves. But he got off lightly. All he had were a few cuts and bruises, and after a few days in hospital he was back to normal.’
‘Or as normal as he’ll ever be. He’s got a wild streak to him,’ Ruth remarked, making everyone nod in agreement. ‘What are you doing, Tricia?’
‘I’ve invited Rob for Christmas. Our American friends will be a long way from home this year and feeling lonely. We’ve got quite a few different nationalities in the ATA now, and everyone off duty is taking someone under their wing for the holiday period. It’s a shame we can’t do the same for all of them, but feeding more than one extra would be difficult.’
Gussie stared pointedly at Ruth. ‘That leaves Jack on his own.’
Before Ruth could digest that remark, there was a knock on the front door, and she went to see who it was.
Their neighbour was standing on the doorstep with a huge parcel in his hands. ‘This came for you today and I took it in for you. It’s from America.’ He winked. ‘Lucky you, it’s heavy and there might be some tasty treats in there for you. Still, you girls deserve to be spoilt.’
Ruth thanked him and watched him walk back down the path in his Home Guard uniform. He took a great interest in them and she knew he boasted about knowing them when he was in the pub at night. The parcel was indeed heavy and she had to kick the door shut with her foot before staggering back to the kitchen.
‘What’ve you got there?’ Tricia made room on the table.
‘Wow! It’s from America. Open it quick.’ Gussie couldn’t contain her excitem
ent.
Ruth was just as eager and tore it open. As she brought out each item they all groaned in bliss. There were tins of ham, salmon, fruit, cream, coffee, biscuits and even a Christmas cake fully iced with a snowman on the top. ‘Oh, my!’ was all she could say, as she read the card included with the goodies.
‘Who’s it from?’ Tricia couldn’t take her eyes off the array of luxuries.
‘Jack’s sister and mother.’ Ruth began to sort the food into three piles, being as fair as she could with the items. ‘I’m going to keep the Christmas cake, if you don’t mind. My mother will go into raptures about that.’
Gussie and Tricia gave her a puzzled look.
‘Now, I think there’s a bit of everything in each pile. You each take which one you want.’
‘But, Ruthie, this was sent to you. You can’t give it away!’ Gussie protested.
‘I can’t keep it all. It would be greedy. And anyway,’ she gave her friends a stern look, ‘you’re each taking home an American for Christmas, so go on, take it and I’ll write and tell Lucy and her mother that we shared it.’
‘Well, if you’re sure …’ Tricia pointed to the selection nearest to her. ‘Can I have those?’
‘Of course.’ After the girls had each chosen, Ruth had the rest, and they all did a jig of delight.
When they’d calmed down, Tricia said, ‘Invite Jack, Ruth. We can’t leave him on his own. He’s bound to miss his family like mad.’
‘I’ll ask him as soon as I see him.’
It was nearly a week before Ruth came across Jack. The weather was dreadful, but Ruth had a ‘priority’ Master to deliver to the flying school at Ternhill. That meant it was urgent and she had to stay with it and not take another delivery if it wasn’t ready. It was always up to ATA pilots to make their own decisions whether to fly or not. She had the Met report and it wasn’t encouraging. She scanned the sky, anxious to be on her way.
‘What you going to do, miss?’ the man in charge asked. ‘Shall I fill her up?’
There was a little break in the clouds just appearing and her decision was made. ‘Yes, I’ll have a go.’
She was on her way at once, but soon realised she had made the wrong decision. However, knowing the delivery was urgent, she pressed on. By the time she reached the Midlands visibility was so bad she was finding it hard to make out the landmarks. It even looked as if it could snow. Reluctantly, Ruth turned back. She hated doing this, but there was nothing else for it: she couldn’t risk the plane, or her own life. By the time she reached Little Rissington, the threatened snow had caught her up. It was only wet stuff and not settling, but it made flying conditions dicey. She was relieved to land.
‘Nasty weather you’ve brought with you, miss.’ An RAF corporal had jumped up immediately to help her out. ‘Where was you going?’
‘Ternhill. This is a priority delivery.’
He pursed his lips. ‘Well, you ain’t going to make it today. There’s another one of your pilots been forced down here as well. He brought in that Spitfire over there.’
She climbed out, hoping it was someone she knew and could spend the evening with. There would be a long wait until she could resume her journey. She’d check in first, and then phone Hatfield to let them know where she was.
As soon as she put the phone down and looked up at the man standing beside her, she knew that all hopes of pleasant company had disappeared. He was glowering at her.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing, flying in this weather?’ Jack Nelson growled in exasperation.
‘Nice to see you too, Jack,’ she said haughtily as she stalked past him in search of a cup of tea and a sandwich.
Jack followed. ‘You haven’t answered my damned question.’
His attitude infuriated her and she turned, eyes blazing. ‘It’s none of your bloody business! We each have the right to make our own decisions, remember? And the fact that you’re stranded here as well is a bit like the pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it?’
He tipped his head back and sighed deeply. When he looked back at her there was amusement in his eyes. ‘I’ll need an interpreter for that.’
The corporal appeared beside them carrying a tray holding two steaming mugs of tea and a pile of sandwiches. He was grinning wickedly after hearing their argument. ‘What she means is that you ain’t got no cause to tell her off, seeing as you was up there too.’
‘And if you dare say it’s all right for you because you’re a man, I’ll thump you.’ Ruth stood with hands on hips, not prepared to take any nonsense from this man.
‘Yeah, right.’ Jack took the tray and placed it on a table near them. Then he held up his hands. ‘Sorry, honey—’
‘Don’t call me that!’
He grimaced. ‘I seem to say the wrong thing every time we meet. Truce?’
He held a chair for her and they sat at the table. Before answering, she took one of the mugs and sipped the tea, making him wait, and then she nodded. ‘Don’t take me for a fool, Jack. I know what I’m doing, and aware of the risks we take every day.’
‘You don’t need to increase those risks by taking unnecessary—’
‘Jack!’ she stopped him sharply. ‘You’re doing it again.’
‘Sorry, sorry!’ He lifted his hands in a gesture she was becoming familiar with, making her annoyance drain away.
‘Do you carry on like this with your sister?’
‘Yeah, she hates it too. Boy, do we fight!’ He gave an amused chuckle as he remembered.
‘Well, pack it in, because I don’t want to fight with you every time we meet. It would spoil my parents’ Christmas.’
He looked completely puzzled. ‘How could I spoil your folks’ Christmas?’
Now Ruth was enjoying herself. Confusing him was much more fun that arguing with him. ‘Because you’re spending the holiday with us.’
There was a protracted silence as he studied her intently. Then he said, ‘I am?’
‘Yep, and you’d better behave yourself, fly boy.’ Her American accent was terrible and had them both grinning.
‘That’s extremely kind of you, Miss Aspinall. I would like that very much.’ Jack’s effort at an English accent was quite polished.
‘You’ve been practising.’
‘I’m surrounded by it every day. I’d rather like to learn some cockney rhyming slang, but I haven’t found a cockney yet.’
Ruth bit into a sandwich and swallowed before she spoke, struggling to keep a straight face. ‘An American sounding like a cockney is too awful to contemplate. Promise me you won’t try?’
‘OK.’ He examined the contents of his sandwich, shrugged, and then devoured it with obvious enjoyment.
She hadn’t seen this side of Jack before, and had to admit that he was rather appealing. ‘I’ve had a letter from your sister. She sounds nice.’
Jack nodded. ‘She’s the best.’
‘Lucy and your mother also sent me a huge food parcel. I shared it with Tricia and Gussie.’
‘Hey!’ He looked offended. ‘They haven’t sent me one!’
‘Perhaps it’s still in the post. Anyway, I’ve written to thank them and explained what I’ve done. They’ve made three hungry pilots very happy.’
‘They’ll like that, thanks.’
With the plate now empty, Ruth stood up. ‘It’s getting dark so I’d better go and find myself digs for the night, and hope this shocking weather clears by morning.’
‘I’ll come with you.’ Jack was also on his feet.
‘There’s no need. They’ll give you a bed here for the night, but there aren’t any facilities for women.’ She turned to the corporal who had just arrived to clear their plates. ‘Do you know where I can stay tonight?’
‘Try the King’s Head, miss. They usually have a room. It’s just outside the gates, about twenty yards to the left.’
‘Thanks.’ Ruth noted that Jack already had his coat on. ‘Don’t come out in the dreadful weather. This is routine for us femal
e pilots.’
‘Hey, my ma brought me up to be a gentleman. I’ll see you safely to the King’s Head. And it’s no use you arguing.’
Ruth rolled her eyes at the RAF man, and then gave a dramatic sigh. ‘Now he’s gone all polite and masterful.’
‘You bet.’ Jack took her arm and they walked out into the sleet.
By seven o’clock the next morning, Ruth was back at the airfield, after spending a comfortable night in the pub. It was now dry, but the cloud base was still low. She’d already checked with the Met and they’d told her that there was a chance the weather might brighten by mid-morning, but she was anxious to get going.
Jack came and stood beside her, also surveying the sky. ‘Sleep well?’
‘Yes, thanks. Did you?’
‘Not bad.’ He shoved his hands in his pockets, still gazing upwards. ‘I’m on my way back to White Waltham, and the weather’s improving in that direction, I’m told.’
‘Oh, well, you can go then.’
He nodded. ‘Soon as I’ve had something to eat. You’re going in the opposite direction and that doesn’t look too good.’
From the tone of his voice she guessed that he was about to start giving her orders again. ‘It’s borderline, and I’m going to give it a try.’
‘Hmm.’ He digested this news for a moment. ‘I could take a look-see for you.’
She smothered an inward sigh. ‘You’ll be wasting petrol. Seamen are risking their lives to bring in the stuff.’
‘Leave it for a couple of hours, Ruth. It might be clearer by then.’
‘Jack!’ Ruth was getting exasperated, but she couldn’t be angry because he was only showing concern for her safety, and she could understand how he was feeling. The men had lost a very experienced pilot last week. ‘I have a priority delivery, and I’ve already lost time. I want to get to Ternhill today.’
He glanced down at her. ‘You’ll turn back if it’s too bad?’
A Flight of Golden Wings Page 8