Night Falls on Norway

by CW Browning

  Removing his coat and draping it over his arm, Miles elbowed his way to the bar and ordered a pint. There was no sign of Evelyn among the crowd, but he wasn’t worried. The rain had made the roads more slick than usual, slowing him down on his drive from Duxford. The same had probably happened to her on her way from Northolt.

  “Miles Lacey!” A voice cried from his left and Miles turned in surprise. A young man with curly gold locks nudged and squeezed his way towards him. “My God, it really is you! I thought you were off in the army somewhere, fighting in mud.”

  Miles laughed. Good old Barnaby. They had been up at Oxford together and he hadn’t seen him since they’d all come down. Barnaby Langton shoved his hand out, his blue eyes sparkling and Miles clasped it firmly.

  “Hardly, dear boy. I’m in the RAF, defending jolly old England’s sainted skies.”

  Barnaby looked surprised. “Never say the old rumors are true for once!” he exclaimed. “You’re really flying? I thought that was just lark up at Oxford!”

  “It turned into a passion, Barny. I’m flying Spitfires now.” Miles picked up his pint and took a sip. “What are you doing all the way out here? I’d have thought you’d be comfortably ensconced in the family pile in Cornwall.”

  “Not bloody likely,” Barnaby muttered, motioning for a pint and joining Miles at the bar. “A man can’t say boo in his own home these days, Miles. I’ve escaped from a swarm of bees, my friend, and it will be some time before I go back.”

  Miles looked at him sympathetically. “The women are at it again?” he translated. “What’s the problem this time?”

  Even when they were at Oxford, Barnaby had been plagued by his three sisters and mother every few weeks. A more demanding group of women Miles had never encountered, and poor old Barnaby had to deal with it constantly after his father had, perhaps wisely, departed this earth.

  “Aside from the war and this new rationing? Do you know they’ve rationed butter, bacon, ham and sugar?”

  “Yes. Well, they have to do something. We keep losing supply ships. The bloody Jerries are sinking them before they can get to us.”

  “Yes, well, to hear them tell it, they’ll starve to death in a fortnight.” Barnaby sighed as a full pint was set before him. “They were already in a tizzy after I broke my news to them last week, now this.”

  “What news?” Miles asked, his eyes moving to the door as it opened. He lost interest when a couple came in. Still no sign of Evelyn.

  “I’ve gone and joined the RAF in the bombers,” Barnaby said with a grin.

  Miles snapped his gaze back to Barnaby’s face and his eyebrows soared into his forehead.

  “Have you really?!”

  “Yes. It’s been frightfully dull now that everyone’s up and gone into the RAF or the Navy. Even old Ginger went and signed on as ground crew exec in the RAF. Decided I might as well get a piece of the action if they’re handing out slices. And Lord knows I’d be no good as a foot soldier. I joined up last month and leave the day after tomorrow.”

  “Old Ginger went too?” Miles asked, stunned. “Can’t imagine why they took him!”

  “Well they’re looking for anyone these days, aren’t they? I say, I’m here with some of the old crowd. We’re taking a jaunt into town. Why don’t you join us?”

  “Sorry, but I’m meeting someone.”

  “Well bring her along!” Barnaby said. “We’re meeting up with Lorry and Tony and some of the others in London. Come along. It’s bound to be a good time. We have reservations at the Savoy. I’m sure they’ll be able to squeeze two more in. Bound to, anyway, for Miles Lacey.”

  Miles smiled wryly at the offhand reference to his social stature.

  “I’d love to, but I’ll have to pass this time.”

  “Well, we’re on the other side if you change your mind.” Barnaby picked up his pint. “It’s jolly good to see you again.”

  “If I don’t see you, best of luck in the bombers,” Miles said, gripping his hand.

  “And to you in the fighters!”

  Barnaby disappeared into the crowd and Miles shook his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. So Barny had gone and joined up as well. Amazing, that. He’d always been a bit of a bookworm, Barny had. Then again, so was Bertie Rodford, and a better intelligence officer Miles had yet to meet. Perhaps old Barny would do well in the bombers.

  The door to the pub burst open then to admit a laughing group of pilots. They exploded into the building in a muddle of flying hats, scarves, gloves and coats. They were singing some song or other, showing that this was not the first stop in their revels. Miles was just turning away with a chuckle when another burst of laughter made him look again. He blinked as Evelyn and three other WAAFs appeared from the center of the group. As he watched, Evelyn tilted her head back and said something in a low voice to the pilot next to her. His face turned a dull red and more laughter rang out.

  Leaning against the bar, Miles was content just to watch her for a moment from a distance. She pulled off her gloves and unwound the scarf from around her neck, trying to look around the pub as she did so. One of the pilots plucked the cap off her head with a laugh and a cascade of blonde hair tumbled around her shoulders in thick waves. Miles grinned as she snatched her hat back and said something sharply to the guilty officer. More laughter greeted her words as the offending pilot grinned down at her, unrepentant.

  A sudden rush of contentment went through him and Miles sipped his beer. He’d been waiting for two months to see her again, and he was far from disappointed. Seeing her at ease with the pilots from her new station, he smiled at the simple joy on her face. He realized with a start how lucky he was that she had driven to meet him here halfway between their bases. She had obviously made several new friends among the fighter pilots of Northolt, yet here she was anyway.

  And she was here to see him.

  Evelyn shook out her hair and turned to look around the crowded pub. The past hour and a half had been almost unbearable. It wasn’t that the pilots had been annoying, precisely. They simply refused to believe that she wanted to spend the evening with anyone other than themselves.

  When she arrived back late from a training session in Scotland, she found that she’d missed the last bus that would bring her to Croxley Green to meet Miles for dinner. Luck had been on her side though: Fred had been hanging around, waiting for her. He offered her a lift on the ‘last bus to town, my dear’ and promised to drop her at the Fox and Hounds on the way. The ‘bus’, of course, had been his condemned car already filled with four other pilots and three WAAFs, sneaking out in the boot. Evelyn had been forced to sit on the lap of the pilot in the passenger’s seat, squeezed against the window.

  Despite the discomfort, it was a merry group and Flying Officer Greggs was a young man who kept his hands to himself. Once they were well away from the airfield, Fred stopped the car to let the WAAFs out of the trunk. That was the first Evelyn learned of their presence. Enlisted aircraftwomen were not allowed to fraternize with officers, and they were just as shocked to see Evelyn as she was to see them. After a very tense moment, though, she had laughed and shrugged and waved them into the car. They piled onto the laps of the officers in the back and the laughter hadn’t stopped since.

  After stopping at two pubs on the way, they finally pulled into the parking lot next to the Fox and Hounds. She was supposed to meet Miles here, but all she could see were blue uniforms and wide shoulders.

  “Do you see him, love?” Fred’s voice asked behind her.

  “What do you think?” she demanded, turning to him impatiently. “All I see is blue!”

  Evelyn should have recognized the sudden gleam that sprang into his blue eyes. She had seen it enough over the past few months. But she was tired, hungry and longing to see Miles. She’d been looking forward to this night for two months, and all she could think was that he had left, thinking she wasn’t coming. Ignoring the glitter in Fre
d’s eyes, she craned her neck, trying to see around the ocean of blue RAF coats.

  Strong hands snaked around her waist suddenly and Evelyn’s feet left the floor all at once. Gasping, she felt herself hoisted up into the air, where she was planted on Fred and Greggs shoulders. Ducking quickly, she narrowly avoided smacking her head on the heavy oak beam running across the low ceiling.

  “Has your vision improved, Assistant Section Officer Ainsworth?” Fred called up to her, a grin on his face and his voice unsteady.

  Never one to let an opportunity slip by, Evelyn scanned the interior of the pub from her new advantage of height. Several shocked civilians were staring up at her as she perched on the shoulders of two tall, good-looking RAF officers. She smiled at them blandly, searching for Miles. She finally spotted him, leaning against the bar, laughing helplessly. Relief poured through her and she laughed, waving gaily and calling out a greeting. The shocked silence that had fallen over the establishment broke as every patron, as one, turned to look at Miles before laughter filled the pub. Fred and Greggs set her down, their shoulders shaking with mirth, and Evelyn swung around to face Fred.

  “That was a dirty trick to play, Officer Durton!” she exclaimed. “I’m an officer, for God’s sake! And there are three ACWs that just saw that!”

  Fred just leaned against the wall and roared with laughter.

  “Did you see the looks on everyone’s faces?” he demanded, gasping for air. “Lord, I wish I’d had a camera!”

  “Cor, is that ‘im?” one of the ACWs demanded as Miles appeared through the crowd. Evelyn turned to look and nodded.

  “Yes, Mary. That’s him.” She collected her coat and scarf from a still-chuckling Fred and turned towards him. “Miles!”

  He closed the last few feet to reach her, still laughing as he reached out to take the coat from her.

  “Evelyn, I’ve never had anyone make up for being late in such a fantastic way!” he exclaimed. “That was absolutely priceless.”

  Evelyn laughed, drinking in the sight of him. His green eyes were sparkling in the way that sometimes haunted her dreams, and his smile was warm, sending sparks straight through to her toes.

  “You have Fred to thank for that,” she said, turning to motion to Fred. “Miles, meet Flying Officer Fred Durton and Flying Officer Daniel Greggs. They were kind enough to give me a lift. The others have disappeared already.”

  “They caught sight of the bar, I’m afraid,” Fred said with a grin, grasping his hand. “Nice to meet you. Evelyn nearly had my head for stopping at that last pub. She was sure you’d leave without her.”

  “As if I ever would,” Miles said with a laugh, shaking his hand.

  “That’s what we told her,” Daniel said, holding out his hand. “Said you’d have to be an out and out looby to leave without her.”

  “And I said you were and that’s why we had to hurry!” Evelyn said with a grin, turning to Miles and tucking her hand into his arm.

  “Durton!” A voice exclaimed loudly behind them. “I don’t believe it! Never would have either, if Frosby here hadn’t caught sight of me!”

  Evelyn turned to watch as a young man with curly blond hair came towards them. He carried a pint in one hand and a cigarette in the other, the picture of idle privilege. One of the officers from the backseat of Fred’s car followed behind him.

  “Barny!” Fred exclaimed, his face lighting up. “Whatever are you doing here?”

  “Same as you, I imagine.” Barnaby grasped Fred’s hand. “I didn’t know you knew Miles!”

  “I don’t. We’ve just met.”

  “Barnaby, this is Evelyn Ainsworth,” Miles introduced the smiling newcomer. “Evelyn, meet Barnaby Langton. Don’t believe a word he says. He’s a shocking flirt.”

  “Oh, I say!” Barnaby shook her hand warmly, holding it a little longer than necessary. “Don’t listen to Miles. He’s still cheesed off over a little serving maid from school.”

  “Barny!” Fred exclaimed in mock horror. “There’s a lady present!”

  Evelyn laughed at them. “Oh, don’t mind me!”

  Miles looked at her, his eyes dancing.

  “That’s the problem, my dear,” he murmured. “They do mind you. Come on. Let’s go eat and leave them to their own devices.”

  After they had said their goodbyes to the laughing pilots, he steered her towards the back of the crowded pub where another door led into the dining area.

  “I was beginning to think you’d changed your mind about coming,” he said with a smile, glancing down at her. “I’m glad I was wrong.”

  “I got back late from a training stint in Scotland,” she told him. “I’d missed the last bus, so Fred very kindly offered to drop me on his way to town.”

  “That’s where Barny’s headed as well,” he said, guiding her to a quiet table in the far corner of the restaurant. “We were invited to go along, but I’d rather spend our few stolen hours alone. I hope you don’t mind?”

  “Not at all,” Evelyn said with a smile as he pulled out her chair. “I love Freddie, but I’ve had just about as much of him as I can take for one day.”

  Miles grinned and turned to hang their coats on a coat rack nearby, then returned to sit across from her.

  “He seems a very jolly fellow. How did you meet?”

  “He nearly ran me over.”

  Miles stared at her. “Pardon?”

  Evelyn laughed at the look on his face.

  “I was crossing the road to get to the officer’s building and he came flying around the corner on a bicycle. He swerved just in time to miss me, but he crashed into a particularly thorny bush. I had to help disentangle him. The entire time he was wailing about losing his race.”

  Miles chuckled, familiar with the pranks bored pilots got up to when they weren’t flying.

  “Shame he lost,” he murmured. “Did you make it up to him?”

  Evelyn twinkled across the table. “They had it again the next day and he won. He swears to this day that it was because he wore my tie tied round his forehead.”

  He choked and burst out laughing. “He must have looked an idiot!”

  “Yes, of course he did. They all do it around there.” Evelyn looked up as a bar maid approached their table. “Odd bunch, the fighter pilots of Northolt. Still, I expect they’re like it everywhere,” she added pointedly.

  Miles grinned. Apparently Officer Fred Durton had won her approval.

  “Of course we are,” he said. “Stands to reason we’ve got to be. We voluntarily chose to fly with our hair on fire to meet an enemy who’s faster and more experienced than us. We all must have a few screws loose.”

  The barmaid joined them and handed them menus while they ordered their drinks. Once she’d gone, Evelyn looked across the table and smiled at him.

  “It’s so good to see you,” she said suddenly. “How are you fairing up in the great blue yonder?”

  “Piece of cake.” He tilted his head and his lips curved. “What about you? I know the pilots aren’t the only ones having a grand old time in our down time. What are you doing to keep yourself amused during this horrid winter?”

  Evelyn chuckled. “Me? Why nothing! I’m a pillar of respectability.”

  “Mm-hmm. If that were so, Durton would never have dared hoist you up on his shoulders. Come on. Fess up. What pranks have you got up to? I know there must be at least one.”

  Evelyn met his gaze and couldn’t stop her lips from pulling up at the corners.

  “Oho! That’s a mischievous look if I’ve ever seen one!” he exclaimed. “Spill it.”

  “Well, I may or may not have dressed up as a man a few weeks ago,” she said slowly, her eyes dancing.

  Miles grinned and leaned forward, resting his arms on the heavy oak table.

  “Do tell!”

  “Fred and I were talking and he was on his way to the officer’s mess. I mentioned that
I didn’t think it was fair that WAAF officers aren’t allowed in their mess. We’re stuck in a moldy old shack at the back with cold tea and stale biscuits.”

  “Stale biscuits?”

  Evelyn smiled sheepishly.

  “Well, perhaps it’s not that bad, but it’s pretty horrible.” She cleared her throat. “I was complaining to Fred about it and the next day, he shows up in my office with an RAF uniform and dares me to put it on and come to the mess with him.”

  Miles stared at her, his mouth dropping open. “You dressed up as an RAF officer?!”

  “Well, I wasn’t about to let him think I wasn’t up for it. Besides, I wanted to see how much better your side of things is.”

  “And?”

  “And I’m appalled at what they expect the WAAFs to settle for,” she said promptly.

  Miles choked back a laugh. “You actually went through with it?”

  “Yes of course I did, and had a fantastic time. After a few glasses of brandy, I stopped worrying about being caught. Well, until the CO showed up, at any rate.”

  “No!”

  She nodded soberly. “Fred helped me out a back window while one of the other pilots stalled him in the front.”

  After a stunned silence, Miles burst out laughing. He was still laughing a few minutes later when the barmaid returned with their drinks.

  “Oh God, Evie, please don’t ever change!” he gasped as the glasses were set down before them.

  Evelyn reached for her wine.

  “Oh, don’t worry. I don’t plan to.” She sipped it and smiled across at him. “I do believe I warned you that you might regret getting to know me.”

  “You also told me that you and Rob were the boring ones in your family,” he retorted. “If you’re boring, I absolutely must meet the fun side of your family!”

  Chapter Three

  ––––––––

  Evelyn tucked her arm into his and ran with Miles through the rain to his low slung Jaguar SS100 on the far side of the parking lot. Her RAF issued coat and hat kept most of her warm and dry, but did nothing to combat the rain blowing into her face. All she could do was put her head down and hope she didn’t trip on the gravel.