Isabella’s Airman

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Isabella’s Airman Page 8

by Sofia Grey


  “But—”

  “Timelines change. That bomb wasn’t supposed to have fallen on the shelter last night. There was nothing in the archive about that. They have records of every detail of enemy action. Everything. And you’re telling me that bomb never made the records? So maybe the timeline has already changed. And right now in the future, they’re recorded as having survived the war.”

  I sank to the bed beside her and gripped her hands. “And there’s something else I need your help with.”

  We stared at each other for a long moment, and then she blanched. “Oh no, Bella. Don’t tell me you want to stay?”

  My tiny nod was enough. She threw her arms around me and held me tight. “You can’t, you know you can’t.” I closed my eyes and buried my face in her neck. “The ghardians will find you. And you know what the punishment would be.”

  If they caught me, I’d be facing ten years in the penal colony.

  They’d have to catch me first.

  Taking a deep breath to calm my frazzled nerves, I pushed back, smoothing my hair with my damp palms. “They track runaways through the markers that exist in our blood, the ones from the vaccinations.” Juliet reached for my hands again. I could feel her trembling. “But the markers fade after about a month.” I swallowed and tried to get my voice under control. “If I can evade them for, say, six weeks, they won’t ever find me. And here, in wartime, I can disappear. You could say I died.”

  Her sucked-in breath gave my answer, even before she spoke. “No. I… No, Bella. I can’t do that.” I squeezed her fingers and saw the tears that glistened in the corners of her eyes. “Please don’t do this. I don’t want to go back without you.” One tear emerged and trickled down her cheek. She tried again. “Even if I tell them you…they’ll still come to look for you. They won’t believe me.”

  “They might. It’s all the chance I need.”

  “And then what?” Her tears were falling freely now. I felt as though I was being torn apart.

  “I pray that Davy survives his other ops, and then we can be together.”

  She tugged her hands free, rubbing her face and standing abruptly before moving to lean against the window. The afternoon sun shone on the grass beyond. Conditions were perfect for nighttime bombing missions. “Please, Bella. Don’t ask me to do this.”

  I stared at her back, her silhouette against the lit window. Juliet was my closest friend, and I would miss her so much. And it was ironic that she’d always been the rule breaker, while I never stepped out of line. This was different, though. It wasn’t just a minor infraction.

  The prospect of leaping into the unknown was terrifying. The idea of making a new life in this ancient culture where everything was alien to me was paralyzing. Did I have the courage for this? I thought again of Davy.

  “I love him, Juliet.” My voice was little more than a whisper.

  She whirled to stare at me, tears pouring down her cheeks. “What if Marc is sent to hunt you? Your cousin. What about the shame to your family?” Her breath hitched. “What about me? I thought we’d always be together.”

  So had I. We’d planned our futures that way. They’d never included a dark-eyed Welshman who’d steal my heart.

  “If you won’t help me, I’ll do it on my own.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  I spent another sleepless night, but this one was filled with thoughts of Davy. Of our future together. I refused to believe we didn’t have one. All through the breakfast shift, I smiled to myself as I thought back to our afternoon in the woods. How we’d cuddled and kissed afterward and then walked together in the sunshine, pausing every few steps for another kiss.

  Juliet had been wrong. Making love was something so incredible, I didn’t have words to describe it. I thought I came from an enlightened society, but without love, it was an empty landscape. How had we gotten it so wrong?

  Thoughts danced and skittered through my head, and I counted the minutes until I could meet Davy.

  As before, he met me at the kitchen door. His smile looked strained, but he caught my hand and squeezed my fingers before lifting them to his lips. “Let’s go for a walk. We’re on ops tonight, so we can’t go out anywhere, but we can find a quiet spot to sit in.”

  We didn’t have to walk far to a sheltered area under a cluster of trees at the far edge of the airfield. From here, the bustle and noise of the runways was muffled. It could be another world. I knew the armorers were busy loading bombs and incendiaries into the planes, pumping fuel, and testing the engines. Engineers swarmed over the great machines, checking and rechecking every working part. Making them safe for tonight. If only they could make the crews safe too.

  I took a deep breath and tried to block it out, to listen to the birdsong instead. It was hard.

  Davy tugged me to sit on the grass beside him, and again he kissed my fingers. My heart fluttered, and I felt a silly smile break out over my face.

  “That’s better,” he said. “I don’t like to see you worried. There’s only four to go, sweetheart. When they’re all done and I transfer for re-training, I’m going to ask you to marry me.” Oh. I lifted trembling hands to my mouth, and he waved a finger at me. “I know it’s soon. I know we’re young. But I know I love you more than anything, Belle. I don’t want to think about a future without you.”

  I couldn’t listen to any more. I threw my arms around his neck and pressed my face against his throat. This was right. I was going to do the right thing. “Yes, Davy. I’m telling you yes.” With his arms holding me tight, I let out a shuddering breath. “I love you more than I have words.”

  His kiss was tender, sweet, and the best answer he could have given.

  We sat entwined for an hour or more until he had to leave for yet another briefing, and I went back to my quarters.

  With Juliet out somewhere and the room to myself, I started my plans in detail. I would have one shot at this. Failure simply wasn’t an option.

  •●•

  I didn’t get a chance to speak to Juliet until we returned for the evening shift. Before I could say anything, Mrs. Latham pulled us to one side. “We serve supper around seven for all the crew, then cocoa and buns when they get back. Seeing as your boys are both active tonight, would you like me to change your rosters so you’re on duty then?” Her voice was calm and reassuring. “That’s normally around three in the morning, after they’ve been debriefed.”

  We both jumped at the chance. I wouldn’t sleep, anyway, if Davy was out there in the darkness somewhere.

  I stood in line serving fried eggs and bacon to the airmen as they filed in for supper. Waiting to see Davy. They all looked subdued, their normal jokes and banter turned down a notch, and my stomach churned. Gods. How would I cope with this month after month? The bombing raids would continue for another three years. Thirty-six more months. And even if—when—Davy was granted a transfer, he would still be flying, just not on active missions.

  “Isabella.” My eyes flicked up to see Teddy’s open, smiling face. “Is Jules around?” He alone looked confident.

  “Yes, she’s, ah…” I searched the crowded mess hall, seeing her in the corner pouring cups of tea. He followed my gaze, his grin broadening.

  “Thanks.” He winked, accepted his food, and turned to saunter toward Juliet. Behind Teddy came another airman I knew to be from C-for-Charlie, and then Davy. I released a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. Dark eyes twinkled back at me, his grin flashing.

  “Davy. I’ll be here with the cocoa. When you get back.”

  “That’s good. I can give you a good-night kiss later.” I blushed, even though his words were too low for anyone else to hear. I held onto the plate too long, desperate for something else to say but unable to articulate anything. I knew he’d been in briefing sessions all afternoon, as well as checking every inch of his plane with the rest of the crew. And now, according to Mrs. Latham, they would be closeted away until the start of the mission. I wouldn’t see him again until it was all ove
r.

  “Come on, Porteous.” The airman behind him jostled his arm. “Chaps are hungry back here. Don’t keep hogging the pretty girls.”

  I released him, pulling together the semblance of a smile for the men still in the queue. I slid fried eggs onto the plates, my eyes tracking Davy as he made his way to a seat where he could watch me. As our eyes met, he patted his top pocket, a hint of bright yellow just visible. Like a medieval knight wearing his lady’s colors as he went into battle, Davy carried my ribbon as promised. Right over his heart.

  The last food had been dispensed. As my eyes searched for Davy, I saw him lounging in the doorway, waiting for me. He nodded toward outside and quirked his eyebrows. I didn’t hesitate. Walking swiftly to the kitchen door, I ran around the corner, barging right into him as he hurried in my direction.

  We laughed as we collided, Davy sweeping me off my feet and into his arms, his mouth seeking mine. I slid back to the ground, our kiss desperate, the impending separation terrifying. His arms tight around me, I imagined I’d become part of his body, fused to him. He shifted and held my face. I ached for more, but we were out of time.

  One final caress, a kiss so precious. A promise of more later. A rakish salute, his fingers just touching his cap. I watched him walking backward, his eyes on me for as long as possible. My Davy. My love.

  The kitchen staff were busy for the next few hours, serving, cleaning up, and preparing the start of the next day’s food. It didn’t work as a distraction. As I mopped and cleaned, my mind kept harking back to my problems. Like a ragged fingernail, I kept worrying at it, trying to create a perfect solution. If Juliet didn’t help me, didn’t provide a cover story for me. If I couldn’t find a way to make Davy ill. If I couldn’t avoid the ghardians.

  The sun set, twilight falling across the aerodrome, and I heard the first rumbles of an engine coming to life. I froze over my mop and stared at Juliet, busy wiping shelves. We gazed at each other for a moment and then darted to the doorway to watch.

  One by one, the huge planes fired up, coughing and spluttering, and then roaring as the engines caught. Lights flashed in the distance on the runways, and the banging and rumbling got louder as they started their journeys. Juliet and I clung to each other. Logic told me they would return home safely in the wee hours of the morning. Fear held me, and I knew with a certainty I would not relax until I saw Davy again.

  As the Wellingtons took off, their massively laden bellies heavy with bombs, they lurched into the air with all the clumsiness of sheep attempting to fly. God knew how they could even stay in the air, let alone fly thousands of miles. The noise was colossal, the vibrations pouring through my body, the ground trembling beneath our feet.

  The moon was just rising, full and yellow. It would be bright later—a perfect bomber’s moon. I had to wonder what it must feel like for the Germans to see these raids flying overhead, dozens of English aircraft in tight formation, raining death upon them. I shuddered at the thought, feeling suddenly weak at the knees.

  Juliet wrapped her arms around me and murmured into my hair. “Breathe,” she whispered. “Keep breathing, slow and steady. He’ll be fine, you know this.”

  “Yeah,” I gasped back. “And Teddy too. But I’m still scared.”

  •●•

  Back in our room, I sat on Juliet’s bunk, while she paced up and down. Eventually she stopped to crouch before me, a tiny bottle in her hand.

  “This is something I’ve got from the infirmary. I told them I had constipation.”

  I took the bottle from her and slowly tipped it sideways, watching the thick, oily liquid slosh around inside.

  “Syrup of figs. Take two spoons before bedtime.” I read the label aloud, and then looked up to Juliet. “This is perfect, but how much should I give him?”

  She shrugged. “I’ve no idea. And you need to disguise the taste somehow. I tried just a tiny bit, and it’s disgusting.” Her nose wrinkled, her lips pursed, and I nodded.

  “Thank you, really. You know, I could slip some to Teddy as well, if you like.”

  Her blue eyes were steady. The pain in them clear. “Even if he avoids the next missions, there’s no guarantee. You know that, Bella. You’re changing history, rewriting the archives. You might only buy him a few days, and then you’ll be stuck here. Alone. Is that really what you want?” Her voice wavered, her face crumpled, and we fell into each other’s arms.

  That was the one outcome I refused to consider.

  The one that terrified me most of all.

  Chapter Seventeen

  We were due back in the mess hall at two a.m. Juliet dozed a little while I lay staring out at the night sky. Watching. Waiting. The clock ticked slowly, counting off the minutes with painful regularity. A light cloud cover drifted across the stars, blanketing them a few at a time, the moon fading and vanishing before me. And then, a little before one a.m., I heard a distant rumble.

  Sitting up straight, I listened hard, straining to hear the noise. Not thunder, not the fuel trucks driving past. That was an airplane engine. Was the op complete?

  I scrambled from my bed and shook Juliet’s shoulder as I stepped to the window. “They’re back. They’re back. I’m going to watch them land.”

  As the heavy bombers circled around, following the dim lights outlining the runway, I counted them back. Eighteen had taken off. I prayed the same number would return.

  Four landed in quick succession, peeling off the runway and trundling down toward the hangars. A bustle of trucks and personnel moved back and forth, the routine operations of the ground crew checking their charges back in. I heard more rumbling overhead, more crews coming safely home. Davy might have already landed. I clung to this idea, even as Juliet and I sat on a patch of dry grass to wait. The incoming airmen were ferried to the Operations Block to debrief after their mission. I would have no firm news until they finally claimed their supper.

  Another three landed together and then a loner. We waited silently, holding hands in the darkness. It seemed an age before another group of four and another loner. Thirteen in total.

  They couldn’t have lost five. Could they? Would Davy be safe? With heavy hearts, we set off toward the mess hall, turning to watch another two landing in a group.

  Three to go. They would be landing any minute.

  I wrapped a scarf around my hair and smoothed my apron. Mrs. Latham greeted us with a tired smile. “They had a rough trip tonight. It could be a while before they come in.”

  Juliet found her voice first. “How do you know? Is there news?”

  Mrs. Latham paused and then spoke carefully. “My daughter is on duty in the control tower. I don’t know the details, I’m sorry.”

  There was an uncomfortable silence while Juliet and I stared at her, and then she ducked her head. “Right girls, let’s get the cocoa ready.”

  I snagged Juliet’s arm and held her back, waiting until Mrs. Latham was a few feet away. I wasn’t sure if I could even say what was running through my head, but I had to speak. To get it out in the open. I swallowed hard. “Do you think…?” I shook my head. Davy would be fine. He had to be.

  “I don’t know.” Juliet’s whisper was so quiet I almost didn’t hear it.

  I wanted to run across to the control tower. I knew they wouldn’t tell me anything; I’d have to wait here for news. My palms sweated, a dull headache throbbing across my forehead, and my eyes itched. A cold, hard ball of anxiety had taken root in the pit of my stomach and threatened to make me vomit. Somehow, I managed to drag myself to the counter with Juliet to set out plates and mugs and stir the vast jugs of cocoa. Stirring the hot drink endlessly, round and round, waiting. More waiting.

  This is how my life would be as long as Davy stayed flying. How long would it take for him to move from active service, for us to have a life together? Lost in a daydream, I didn’t hear the first footsteps as they approached the kitchen, only realizing at the last minute that we had company.

  “Bella.” Juliet spoke nervously
. “They’re coming.”

  I nodded, took a deep breath, and smiled at the first group to approach the counter, all the while looking eagerly for Davy. The airmen looked exhausted, gray lines of tiredness cutting into their faces, shadows beneath their eyes. They shuffled into a queue, yawning and cracking their knuckles, all pretense of joviality gone. There were none of the jokes and off-the-cuff remarks I’d grown accustomed to. And nobody would look me in the eye. They accepted their mugs of cocoa, helped themselves to the warm fruited buns, and drifted to their tables in little, quiet groups.

  Some wore rough bandages on their hands, more than one was limping. I saw two with recent burns. And no sign of Davy.

  As with the bombers landing, the airmen appeared in groups. I tried to work out how many were left to appear and failed. I handed out more mugs, more buns. Waited. God, the waiting was enough to drive me insane. The nausea was under control, just, as long as I kept myself busy. But as the clock inched round to three thirty, there was still no sign of Davy or his crew. And nobody had come in at all in the last twenty minutes.

  Conflicting ideas warred in my head. Should I walk right up to the nearest group and ask them? Or beg Mrs. Latham for more information? I had to do something—anything. I could not just stand here and wait another minute. Drawing as deep a breath as I could manage, squashing down the waves of sickness again, I strode out into the mess hall and headed for the first table. I clutched the remnants of the cocoa, the jug acting as a shield.

  Pasting a distinctly wobbly smile on my face, I held out the jug. “There’s some cocoa left. Would anyone like some?”

  A couple of mugs were raised in answer. I took my time to pour, my hands shaking so much I feared I’d drop the thing. My lungs were tight and my heart pounding, but I had to ask—I needed to know. “Can you tell me, please…?” I hesitated, and several faces lifted to meet my gaze. My voice disappeared, and I croaked my next words. “C-for-Charlie. Are they back?”

  It happened in slow motion. Two men looked away, matching flushes across their faces. One sad pair of eyes met mine. Behind me, Juliet wailed. The sad-eyed airman rose to his feet, speaking as though he were miles away, his voice sounding distorted. “I’m so very sorry.”

 

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