It was almost five in the morning before the agents left and then it was just them and Perkins again. He had done a sweep of the house and grounds, checking on the dogs, who had been drugged but were fine, then roused a maid out of the servant’s quarters and told her to prepare one of the guest bedrooms, rightly assuming that they wouldn’t want to go back up to Gwen’s rooms that night. Not that they could anyway; they had been left as they were and cordoned off for a forensic team to go over when they arrived from London.
Gwen didn’t think she would be able to sleep, but almost as soon as she lay down in Kitty’s arms she fell unconscious as exhaustion and shock caught up with her.
They woke just before midday and dressed slowly. Gwen found that the whole of the right side of her body was bruised and battered from where she had flung it against the chest of drawers and her left shoulder, the one she had dislocated in Muscovy, was a constant ache. She took a couple of willow bark pills for the pain and then ignored it, wanting to get downstairs and find out what was happening.
There was a military intelligence officer, Major Dillingham, a young man with a quiet but intense manner, waiting for them downstairs and he spoke to them at the dining table while they were ravenously devouring a late breakfast of bacon sarnies.
‘We have no idea who the Prussian who followed you from London is, but the other matches the description Mr Hawking gave of the man he spotted lurking around. We found a codebook, some notes in German and a shortwave radio capable of reaching the continent in their campsite on the far bank of the river, all of which are already on their way to Whitehall for analysis.’ He looked back and forth between the two pilots as he took a deep breath, as if hesitant to continue, and if anything his voice was even more serious when he did. ‘We also found a book of photographs of all you Misfit Squadron pilots. My schoolboy German isn’t up to much, but one of my men told me that the instructions with the pictures were very clear, that all Prussian agents in England are to kill you if given a safe opportunity to do so, but that Group Captain Lennox and yourself, Lieutenant Stone, are to be executed on sight at all cost. I believe it was your appearance and that order which caused our lurker to abandon whatever stealthy plans he’d made to get into the study downstairs in favour of a more direct approach that would kill two birds with one stone, so to speak.’
They groaned at his turn of phrase and he grinned. ‘Right then, now we have to decide what to do with you. The King has sent orders for you to be protected and you’ve got two options. We either post a contingent of guards here to be with you around the clock, or you go to Bagshot Hall, where security is already in place. Lord and Lady Bagshot have been apprised of the situation and are more than happy to have you turn up earlier than planned.’
Gwen exchanged a resigned look with Kitty. They knew that, whichever option they chose, their alone time was over, but perhaps at Bagshot Hall they would be left more to their own devices. She sighed and turned back to the man. ‘We’ll go to Bagshot.’
‘Good! I’ll arrange for a military escort.’
‘Is that really necessary?’
‘I’m afraid so; we have no idea how many agents the Prussians have in England and there might be more nearby, waiting to see whether the first two were successful or not.’
Kitty frowned. ‘Are our friends in danger as well?’
‘Probably not; we don’t believe that the Misfits, annoying as you are to the enemy, are a priority target, no matter the photographs. In your case it’s most likely that the Prussians were taking advantage of the fact that they already had assets in place and we doubt that they have anybody in position to make an attempt on the others. Don’t worry, though, we’re not discarding the threat entirely - we’ve contacted the rest of your squadron and Group Captain Lennox has been put under guard.’
Gwen smiled, relieved. ‘Thank you.’
‘Just doing our job, ma’am.’ The man returned her smile. ‘Well, if you let Perkins know what you want packed, he’ll get it for you; can’t have you traipsing around those rooms until we’re finished with them, sorry. Oh, and don’t worry, we’ll clean up once we’re done and leave everything as it was, although your parents might have to foot the bill for a new carpet; I doubt if the Ministry will want to pay for that.’
Gwen grinned. ‘I don’t think my parents will be too worried about that, after all they can put it in “expenses” and charge it to the King.’
The man laughed, then stood. ‘I’ll go and make the arrangements.’ He began to walk away, but turned back when something occurred to him. ‘By the way, bloody good show holding them off for as long as you did. Corporal Perkins is impressed and believe me, he doesn’t impress easily.’
It was Kitty’s turn to grin. ‘Thank goodness for basic training.’
‘Yes. Basic training...’ The man blinked at her, not quite sure if she was being serious or not. ‘If only basic training imparted the courage and initiative that you two displayed last night; this war would have been over by now.’ He gave them one last nod, then disappeared out the door.
The trip to Bagshot Hall took less than half an hour at the breakneck speed the small convoy of Ministry autocars went at.
They were met on the steps of the mansion by Lord Basil “Biffy” Bagshot and three servants, who began taking the baggage inside. His usual wide smile was somewhat subdued, his worry for them showing, but they barely saw it as their eyes had been drawn immediately upwards to where a bright blue aircraft with a golden belly and pink nose was wheeling around the sky, tumbling and turning in a remarkable series of incredibly complicated and sharp aerobatics.
Gwen shaded her eyes and squinted at it, wishing that her bags and her flight helmet hadn’t already been taken inside so that she could use the lenses to see it better. However, even without them she could see that the pilot was remarkable and the aircraft was handling incredibly.
‘Who the hell is that? And what’s that machine?’
A genuine smile broke out on Lord Bagshot’s face. ‘That, ladies, is Kingfisher. She was completed a month ago. As for the pilot, I’ll give you one guess.’
‘Penny? Really?’
He laughed at Kitty’s incredulity. ‘She told you she’d fly again. Didn’t take her long, did it?’
‘No it bloody well didn’t!’ Gwen couldn’t believe it either, but not because she hadn’t expected Penny to be back in the air, rather the manoeuvres that the aircraft were carrying out spoke of a coordination that few pilots had, let alone one that had lost both her legs only months before.
The three watched the aircraft, but its gambolling soon took it out of sight behind the mansion.
‘She’s only just gone up and she’ll be up there until her spring tension runs out, so why don’t we get you two sorted in the meantime? I’ve had your old room aired out for you.’ Lord Bagshot gestured to the mansion, then led them inside and up the main staircase.
‘By the way, I heard about your shootout last night. Jolly good show! You really showed those Prussians what for!’ He grinned at Gwen. ‘Remind me not to challenge you to a duel anytime soon. Oh, and if you’d like to go hunting some time, I’d be delighted; the bag would certainly be a lot bigger if I took you along!’
Gwen shook her head with a wry smile. ‘I’m not a hunter, sorry, I only shoot paper.’
Lord Bagshot’s face fell slightly, but he covered his disappointment well. ‘Oh, well, each to their own, I suppose.’
They got to the top of the stairs and turned onto the long corridor heading towards the wing of the house that the Misfits had been given as their quarters.
‘So, how was Russia? I’ve heard a fair amount about your work there through official channels, but I haven’t had a chance to talk to any of you about it. Was it as cold as they say it is?’
‘And then some!’ Kitty laughed. ‘It wasn’t so bad with these snazzy new coats, though.’
Lord Bagshot eyed the black fur appreciatively as the American gave it a flourish. ‘I don’t
approve of fur usually, but that is very nice.’
Gwen nodded. ‘It was necessary as well; the RAC greatcoats we were issued with before we went were completely inadequate, especially when the weather really started to get bad.’
They reached the room Gwen and Kitty shared and Lord Bagshot opened the door for them. ‘Well, I’m sure that you’ll regale us with some stories later, perhaps over elevenses when Penny gets back?’
‘We’d be delighted.’
‘Wonderful! And welcome back to Bagshot!’ He gave them a last smile and a small bow, then left them to settle in.
Rather than waiting for Penny to show up, Kitty and Gwen strolled down the lawn to the airfield to meet her. The was another reason for going, apart from just to see their friend a few minutes earlier, though; the Misfit aircraft had arrived at the same time as their baggage from the Arturo and Kitty wanted to check in on Hawk.
They had expected the airfield to be almost deserted, the majority of the Misfit personnel home for the holidays, but they found the doors to the hangar holding the fighters wide open with what looked like almost the entire complement of fitters working within. Support staff were in evidence as well, moving between the administration buildings, and Gwen was pleased to see a wisp of smoke rising from the mess, promising tea and snacks.
The aircraft were in good shape. Repairs had been completed on the journey from Muscovy and they had been reassembled after their journey by road from Scotland. However, they hadn’t been able to give them a fresh coat of paint because most of the garish colours hadn’t been available on the Arturo and many of them still had bare metal panels. Fresh stocks had evidently been brought in, though, and the fitters were hard at work returning them to how they were before their hard fight in Muscovy.
While Kitty rushed off to Hawk, Gwen wandered around the rest of the aircraft, nodding to the fitters as she went past. Several of the machines and their respective ground crews were missing of course, away at the King’s exhibition, which the Misfits were now forbidden to attend for security reasons. There was no sign of Sergeant Jenkins and her own fitters either and she supposed that they had been farmed out temporarily to a squadron that could actually use them.
She ended her circuit of the hangar next to Dragon and stood contemplating the machine, taking in her vastly altered but, to her eyes, improved lines.
Sergeant Potter noticed her and stopped what he was doing to walk over to her, bobbing his head in greeting.
‘What do you think of the changes, Mr Potter?’
The fitter glanced somewhat nervously at the rest of the men and women working on the aircraft and every single one of them looked away, trying to seem too busy to pay attention.
He gave a sigh, shook his head and chuckled at his team’s cowardice, then resolutely met Gwen’s eyes. ‘Sorry, ma’am, but we don’t like them. Even though Group Captain Lennox had us paint her the same, she’s not Dragonfly anymore, if you know what I mean.’
Gwen gave him a wry smile, trying to let him know that she hadn’t taken offence. ‘I do, Mr Potter, and I’m sorry, but I believe that it was necessary to make the changes; she’s a better aircraft now, which will allow Abby to shoot down even more Prussians than before. I also believe that her spirit is still the same and will be as long as Abby is flying her.’
Potter nodded reluctantly. ‘We understand all that, ma’am, but she still doesn’t feel right.’ He rubbed at his forehead with his thumb. ‘I guess we just need to get used to her.’
Gwen smiled. ‘I’m sure you will soon enough, Sergeant.’
She nodded at him and the rest of his crew, then wandered off to find a cup of tea in the pilots’ ready room while she waited for Kitty.
Kitty was more than happy with how Hawk was and she bounced into the ready room with a huge grin on her face and flopped into the armchair next to Gwen.
Gwen raised an eyebrow at her. ‘What are you doing here? I thought you would have taken Hawk up for a test flight.’
‘It’s very tempting, but I’m on leave. I can wait a few days until we go back on duty.’
Gwen rolled her eyes; none of the Misfits would ever pass up on the opportunity of taking up an aircraft, especially if it had been weeks since they’d last done so. ‘Just because I don’t have an aircraft to fly, doesn’t mean you have to mope about on the ground with me.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course.’ She waved in the direction of the changing room at the back. The Misfits had left their flight gear on the Arturo because there hadn’t been space on Dreadnought. It had come with the aircraft and was hanging waiting for them. The flightsuits had even been serviced and the silk lining around the collar, which stopped them chaffing necks that were always in movement, had been replaced. ‘Just go already, I know you’re dying to.’
Kitty twitched, her body almost out of the seat before her brain caught up. Admirably, she managed to restrain herself, though, and just leaned forward to pour herself a coffee from the pot the steward had brought her as soon as she’d sat down. ‘I think I’ll wait until Penny gets down and say hello first, but after that don’t expect to see me again until it’s dark!’
While they sipped their drinks and picked at snacks they spoke about the aircraft in the hangar and Gwen’s new design, but it was almost impossible to keep up the conversation because Kitty’s eyes darted to the window every few seconds and she wouldn’t stop fidgeting.
In the end, Gwen had had enough. ‘Kitty, darling. Why don’t you go and get changed, then see about putting Hawk on the flight line so that you’re ready to go as soon as Penny arrives?’
‘OK!’
Gwen laughed as Kitty leapt from her armchair, planted a kiss on her lips, then raced towards the changing room.
Able to relax again, Gwen poured herself another tea and imagined, for about the millionth time, flying Excalibur through and around fluffy white clouds, taking her to her limit and beyond.
Kitty was just finishing her final checks when Kingfisher buzzed the airfield at grass level, did a Split S over the mansion to bring her into the wind, then came directly in to land, not bothering to do a proper circuit.
Gwen calmly finished off her tea then made her way outside, meeting up with Kitty and stood waiting as the aircraft taxied in.
Penny brought her aircraft to a halt, switched off, climbed out of the cockpit, then jumped down from the wing and sauntered over to them. ‘Kitty! Gwen! You’re here! I’m sorry, I was told you’d arrive this evening, otherwise I would have made sure to be there to greet you.’
‘We understand. You had better things to do.’ Kitty gestured at Kingfisher with a grin.
‘Thank you.’ Penny nodded graciously. ‘Well? Professional opinions?’
She followed them as they walked around the machine, careful not to get in the way of the fitters as they rewound and checked her.
It was sleek, highly streamlined, with a long nose and a pointed tail. Her wings were rounded though, somewhat reminiscent of those on a Spitsteam, with blisters for Wendy’s cannon, although the guns weren’t installed.
Kitty chuckled. ‘Well, it’s certainly a bit of a departure from your usual style.’
Lady Penelope had always flown twin-springed aircraft, not just in Misfit Squadron, but also in the Schnitzel Cup, competing to see who had the fastest machine in the world. She had never, to their knowledge, designed and built a single-springed aircraft.
Penny shrugged. ‘I wanted something I could throw around the sky a bit more, something to challenge me, so that I could make sure I was up to it.’ She grinned mischievously. ‘That wasn’t what I was expecting you to say, though; doesn’t she look a bit, I don’t know, familiar to either of you?’
Gwen frowned and shook her head. ‘I...’ She started to say no, but bit back her words because there was something about the aircraft. The sharply swept-back tailplane, for example, looked very much like one of the features they had played around with, but eventually discarded, when they h
ad designed Sable and Raptor. With that first discovery it was like the floodgates had opened and she quickly spotted other things that they had come up with - Penny had managed to find a way to combine them that none of them had thought of, to create something completely new and much much better.
‘She’s incredible.’ Gwen shook her head in wonder, then grinned at Penny. ‘Bruce and Monty are going to be pretty damn annoyed; she’s much better than their machines!’
‘It’s kind of you to say so.’
‘If only we’d had you in the design room a bit more, I’m sure we could have come up with something truly remarkable for the boys.’
Penny smiled wryly. ‘Yes, life is full of if onlys and what ifs, dear, but in the end one has to do the best one can with what life sends one’s way.’
Kitty chuckled. ‘Well, you certainly have, you look fantastic!’
‘She’s right.’ Gwen nodded enthusiastically. Penelope had been in a lot of pain after her accident, taking strong medicine just to be able to function and unable to remain awake for more than a couple of hours. There had been hope, though; last time they had seen her she had just been fitted with clockwork legs and it seemed that she had more than gotten the hang of them while they’d been away. ‘And your flying certainly hasn’t been impaired. Are you going to come back to us?’
‘That is my plan and I have spoken to Sir Douglas Pewtall about it. He has agreed, but only if I pass my “wings test” again.’
Gwen laughed. ‘I don’t think you’ll have any problems with that, after what we saw you doing.’
‘I hope not!’ Penny laughed, but then wrapped her arms around herself. ‘Well, I’m getting a tad cold standing around out here and I must be getting back to my husband; he does worry so.’ She glanced at the waiting Hawk, then turned to Gwen. ‘Can I offer you a lift up to the house? Or would you like to take Kingfisher for a spin once she’s been rewound?’
Gwen blinked, surprised; usually pilots got very jealous of their personal aircraft, not trusting anyone with them, especially one as new as Lady Penelope’s. ‘I would love to, if you really don’t mind.’
A Misfit Midwinter Page 10