‘Not like that. You’ll give Mary the shock of her life if she sees you.’ He slept as nature intended but she preferred to wear a nightdress in the winter.
He laughed. ‘Don’t go to sleep, honey, I’ll be back in a minute.’
Needless to say, neither of them got much more sleep that night.
*
Visibility had improved sufficiently the next morning for her to catch a taxi Anson back to Hamble. If she’d left it until the next day she wouldn’t have been on time. As Jack didn’t stay at Hamble anymore it no longer felt like home.
His bicycle was now at White Waltham so she could use it once she was there. Two new girls were taking over the cottage when she left and one of them would also inherit her bike. Ellie would be sad to leave the ferry pool where she’d been based almost since the beginning, but they would, no doubt, manage perfectly well without her.
Her focus was now on Jack and their future together. He had his place secured at Oxford; if by the end of the war she wasn’t pregnant she intended to join him there. They were fortunate that they could afford the expense of a university education. There was talk on the wireless and in newspapers that the government would provide free higher education for returning servicemen when the war was done.
The skies were grey but there was no sign of the rain that had held up deliveries on and off for the past week. She collected her chits and was delighted she was collecting and delivering Spitfires all day. After speaking to the Met girl, she was ready to go. There were two others doing the same deliveries but they wouldn’t fly together.
‘We’re going to miss you, Ellie. I’m surprised that Pauline has agreed you can go as we’ll only have four qualified to fly the four-engined beasts when you do,’ Pat said as they settled into the transport taking them to the factory in Southampton.
‘It’s a voluntary organisation and she knows that if she hadn’t agreed I would have resigned and volunteered for war work I could do there. My place is with my husband. So many families are separated by this wretched war and it’s silly for Jack and me to be apart when we don’t have to be.’
‘There aren’t that many of us converted to Class V. You leaving—’
‘I’ll still be flying Halifaxes and so on and it doesn’t matter where I’m based as long as I do my job.’ She was glad they had reached the factory as she didn’t need reminding that she was letting the side down by relocating. Would she actually have resigned? Never – as long as she was needed by the ATA she’d be there doing her bit.
Although she loved this particular kite more than any other, it did have one serious drawback. Two ground engineers had to hang onto the tail as it had a tendency to rise. She wondered how the fighter pilots managed when they had to scramble and be airborne in five minutes? Presumably there were more ground engineers than aircraft.
She landed the first to the MUs ahead of the other two and collected the battle-ready Spit. This one was going to Hornchurch which meant that it would be possible to fly over the farm where her dad and Mabel lived. This idea was rejected as soon as it popped into her head. Even the smallest delay might be crucial.
That said, the RAF worked mostly at night nowadays and the Yanks did the daytime bombing. They had their own fighters who accompanied their boys on these massive raids to Germany and Italy.
The grey clouds had cleared and there were patches of blue sky which made flying easier. Nowadays she was quite prepared to go above the murk and use her instrument training despite the fact this was strictly forbidden.
Suddenly her peace was disturbed by an American fighter – she could clearly see P51 written on the side of the fuselage – who appeared beside her. The pilot waggled his wings and gestured that they have a mock dogfight. Good God! He must be a novice to suggest such a thing. She shook her head but he persisted.
Holding the kite steady with one hand she deftly removed her helmet and goggles, shook her hair loose and then blew him a kiss. The Yank’s astonishment made her laugh but she was relieved when he vanished and left her to do her job without further distraction.
*
Only another two weeks and Ellie would be living here with him. Jack couldn’t stop smiling and he understood exactly what she’d meant when she’d said that she’d wanted to turn a cartwheel. This was an impossibility for him but there was something he could do; he would be breaking all the rules – but if no one knew, then what did it matter?
Since he’d done his stunt flying for the film crew, he’d been itching to discover if he could still do the aerobatics that had made him a star turn in the flying circus in America before the war. Winter probably wasn’t the best time to find out, but he could go above the clouds and then he was unlikely to be seen by anyone else.
Today he was flying a fully operational Hurry to Prestwick. Plenty of time to give it a go once he was away from White Waltham. He remained below the regulation 2000 feet for twenty minutes and then climbed until he was in clear blue sky and just over 8000 feet.
He knew from his previous experience that the faster the kite the easier it was to perform aerobatics. He had done a slow roll in a Tiger Moth at 100 miles per hour but it wasn’t as easy as doing it in a fighter. He flew upside down at 300 miles an hour for some distance and then called it a day.
Although he never discussed it with his fellow flyers, he was pretty certain they all had a go when the weather was decent.
If they were surprised that he arrived earlier than expected at the base nobody commented. A miserable erk pointed at the aircraft he was to return to the MUs. ‘Don’t envy you that, mate. It’s bleeding well falling apart. It ain’t fit to fly. Got more holes in it than a tart’s knickers.’
Jack walked around the damaged Hurricane and was forced to agree with the pessimistic description. ‘I’ve flown worse…’
‘With only one hand?’
‘Actually, I have. Don’t worry, I’ll get it there. But I don’t think they can repair it so it will be a wasted journey. I’d be better taking it for scrap.’
The flaps worked okay, the wings were relatively intact and the engine sounded fine. It was the fuselage that had suffered as it was riddled with bullet holes. It was going to be an unpleasant flight but, he hoped, not a disastrous one.
Taking off was interesting as the kite veered from side to side in an alarming way. No doubt this was because of the bloody great holes that let the air whistle through. He nursed the Hurry like a doting father, kept his speed to the minimum and avoided any sharp turns or steep climbs.
Even with his flight suit, helmet, gloves and goggles he was perished after the first fifteen minutes. The aircraft bucketed about and he knew he wasn’t going to be able to complete the journey and would have to land the Hurricane. He was flying so low it wouldn’t be safe to jump out so he started searching for somewhere suitable to put it down.
This was the first time since he’d started flying for the ATA that he really missed his other hand. He peered frantically from one side to the other in the hope of seeing an empty field where he could ditch the craft without killing half a dozen cows or terrifying a team of land girls.
Then the matter was taken out of his hands when the engine stalled. The propeller stopped turning. He would have to glide it in and hope for the best. This was a manoeuvre he’d accomplished many times, but never in a kite that was falling apart.
It started to rain heavily, reducing visibility to a hundred yards. He was over a small village – so close he could see the white faces of the villagers staring up at him. He skimmed over a stand of trees and then matters were taken out of his hands.
There was a horrible tearing sound and half a wing plummeted to the deck. He was going for a Burton. He’d never see Ellie again. He closed his eyes and sent up a fervent prayer that his death would be quick and he’d not be engulfed in flames.
*
Ellie completed her deliveries in record time and was eager to share with her colleagues the incident with the American pilot. Aliso
n and Margaret met her as she came into the building. She felt as if a large stone had lodged in her chest.
‘What is it? Who is it?’
‘It’s Jack. He crashed. He’s been taken to the military hospital at Wheatley. The Fairchild taxi is waiting to take you to White Waltham. Transport’s been laid on to take you to the hospital when you arrive.’
She turned and raced to the waiting taxi and jumped in behind the pilot. Only as they took off did she realise she’d not stopped to ask how badly injured he was – or even if he was dead. They’d both looked so grim she feared the worst.
The panic had made her run without asking the necessary questions and now she must wait until she got to his ferry pool. They must know what had happened and how bad it was so she would just have to sit tight and pray things weren’t as bad as she thought.
On landing she saw a car waiting for her at the side of the strip. She was tempted to leave her parachute in the aircraft but decided against it. The driver, a young woman, threw her belongings onto the back seat and opened the passenger door for her.
‘Don’t ask how he is or what happened as I don’t know the answer to either question. You’ll be there in twenty minutes and can find out for yourself.’
Ellie perched on the seat, hands clenched, her eyes closed willing the tears to stay away. This was the second time she’d rushed to his side after a crash – but this was so much worse as before he’d only been a friend and now he was the most important person in her life.
When the car screeched to a halt outside the hospital she was out and running for the door before it was quite stationary. The driver could take care of her belongings until… until… She couldn’t finish the thought.
This was a military hospital and the nurses were dressed differently – they wore a short red cape and grey dress with the usual crisp, white apron. Why was she thinking about their uniform when her beloved Jack could be critically injured or even dead?
‘Can I help you? Are you looking for someone?’
‘My husband. Jack Reynolds.’ It was hard to speak.
The nurse who’d stopped to enquire smiled. ‘I’ll take you. Don’t look so worried, Mrs Reynolds, apart from substantial cuts and bruises, he’s going to be absolutely fine.’
For a moment the words didn’t percolate into her brain. Then she grabbed the woman’s arm. ‘He’s not dead? He crashed. How can he not be dead?’
‘The big man upstairs was certainly taking care of him today. Here you are, he’s in the corner bed and you can ask him yourself what happened. I’ll bring you a cup of tea as you look as if you need one.’
She burst into the ward and saw him sitting up in bed chatting to a nurse. He had a bandage around his head and one eye, and there was a cage over his legs. She flew across the room and flung herself into his arms. She was incoherent. He understood and just held her tight, letting her sob into his shoulder.
Eventually, she was able to sit up. He handed her the corner of the sheet and she wiped her eyes and blew her nose on it noisily. ‘No one said anything but that you’d crashed. I didn’t stop to ask and my driver didn’t know anything.’
‘I’m sorry, darling, that you had such a miserable journey thinking I’d kicked the bucket. The nurse left a cup of tea for you – drink it and then I’ll tell you what happened.’
The tea was horribly sweet but she swallowed it in three gulps knowing it would help with the shock. She couldn’t remember putting her feet on the bed but she wasn’t going to move. She’d already ruined his pristine sheet so they would have to change it anyway.
The cup rattled in the saucer and she was relieved to put it back on the bedside cabinet without dropping it. ‘I’m ready. Tell me what happened.’ She listened with growing incredulity.
‘The wing fell off? How high were you?’
‘Forty feet. I know, I can’t believe it myself. I thought I’d had it.’
‘Dropping from that height, I’m surprised there wasn’t a fire.’
‘It was tipping it down and that’s what saved me. The lights went out and the next thing I knew I woke up here. Some guys from the village pulled me out and I was wrapped in several blankets and driven here by the local doctor.’
‘If you were a cat, you’d have just used up most of your lives.’ She wriggled around so she could kiss him and he responded enthusiastically. They were brought to their senses by the whistles and catcalls from the other patients in the ward.
‘I just think I’m the luckiest guy alive. That’s three crashes I’ve survived. I think my luck might well have run out with this one.’
‘Don’t say that. I’ll be terrified every time you fly from now on.’
‘There’s something I haven’t told you. The doc thinks I’m now blind in my left eye. I won’t be able to fly at all from now on if that’s the case.’
‘Then you can start studying straightaway. You’ll be almost qualified by the time this is over.’
‘You don’t mind? You’ll be married to a guy with one hand and one eye.’
‘I love you, it makes absolutely no difference to me. You’re alive and I’ll be able to lead a normal life. You could have been dead or horribly burnt or…’
‘Don’t rub it in, honey, I’ve been through it enough times in my head. I’m a lucky guy to be here.’
She reluctantly scrambled off the bed and into the chair that had been put there for her use. ‘Have you broken a leg or something?’
‘No, just a lot of stitches. I’m going to be stuck here for a week. How long can you stay?’
‘I didn’t stop long enough to ask Alison or Margaret. There’s a rather grumpy sister coming towards us so I think I’d better make myself scarce. With any luck I can find a public phone I can use. I’ll ring Frankie and Margaret and tell them how you are.’
Eleven
December 1943
Jack’s sight had improved slightly and he could make out shapes and colours, but it was a handicap too many for him to remain a pilot for the ATA. He’d been given the all clear by the doctors and couldn’t put off this difficult visit any longer. He couldn’t start his degree until next September and he intended to become a fire watcher or something equally useful in the meantime. However, when he tried to tender his resignation Frankie wouldn’t accept it.
‘Well, old boy, we don’t want to lose you from the ATA. We want you to stay on in an admin roll, you’ll be bloody invaluable and can run the show occasionally so I can deliver a few kites myself.’
He was about to refuse but then reconsidered. ‘If you’re quite sure, then I’d be glad to stay on in any capacity. I wasn’t looking forward to moping around the house when Ellie’s working so hard.’ His grin was a little lopsided but genuine. ‘Also, I rather like the smart uniform and would be loath to give it up.’
‘Excellent, that’s the ticket. Have the quacks signed you off? Can you start right away?’
‘Sure can. What do you want me to do?’
Half an hour later his desk was piled with the paperwork. Frankie had accumulated a massive backlog of bumf which he’d promptly unloaded on him. Ellie was taking a Lancaster somewhere in Norfolk and was then returning with one for repair. At least with four-engined bombers she wasn’t flying alone and always had a flight engineer or cadet with her.
It was too dark to fly after four o’clock so she’d be lucky to get back tonight. Although only just midday, it was already gloomy out there. One of the perks of being an admin guy was that he had access to the telephone.
He dialled the switchboard and asked the girl to ring the base were Ellie should be just about ready to collect the damaged kite. If he was lucky, she wouldn’t have left and he could get a message to her. After his accident she’d been allowed to transfer immediately and was now based at White Waltham in his stead. She was actually far more use to Frankie than he’d been as she could fly the big guys.
Then to his delight she was on the other end of the line. ‘Jack, is something wrong?’
<
br /> ‘No, honey, everything’s just dandy.’ He quickly explained the circumstances and she was thrilled for him.
‘That’s wonderful, darling, much better than twiddling your thumbs and getting under Mary’s feet all day. Sorry, I’ve got to go if I have any hope of getting home tonight.’
There was no goodbye and the line went dead. He wasn’t offended, but proud that his wife was one of a handful of women able to do the job she was doing.
The office staff didn’t go home until it was too dark for any further aircraft to land. He’d ploughed through the pile of stuff he’d been given and the desk was now clear. No doubt there’d be another pile tomorrow morning. It wasn’t exactly stimulating work, but nevertheless the day had passed quickly and it was definitely better than the alternative.
He glanced at the clock and then out of the window. If the taxi didn’t land in the next ten minutes Ellie wasn’t coming. It was frosty outside, but not dangerously so. Then he heard the distinctive sound of the Anson approaching. It didn’t mean that Ellie was on it, but she might be.
Three guys got out and then the distinctive shape of his beloved girl came last. He watched her walk across the strip and then went down to the locker room so he could meet her there.
‘Jack, I only just made it and so did the Anson. If I’d been five minutes later at the MUs I would have missed it.
It was impossible to talk when they were peddling in the near darkness, especially for him, as he needed to concentrate in order to stay upright. The lacerations on his legs had healed but they were still a bit sore.
They walked their bikes around the house and left them propped up outside the kitchen. This was the way they went in as well because the back door opened into the boot room. There was never a light on in there so there was no need to worry about breaking the blackout regulations.
‘I still intend to do a fire watch, Ellie, as I’ll be home every night.’
‘Good show – but I don’t know how you can work a stirrup pump effectively with only one hand.’
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