A Kestrel Rising (16 page)

“Where did the day go?” she asked.

“I don’t know, but let’s hope there’s more like it.”

The train squealed to a halt. “I hope so too.” She kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Francis.”

He took her face in his hands and kissed her. Ilona found his confidence breathtaking.

Francis smiled when he stepped back. “Thank you, Ilke. Take care.”

Ilona was too taken aback to do anything other than smile. “And you.” She reeled from the kiss as she stepped down onto the platform. “Please be careful.”

He grinned. “Oh, don’t worry, I will be.”

She waved until the train was out of sight then set off in search of a bus back to the base, still stunned. She returned to the hut in a daze and sat down on the bed, suddenly exhausted from all the sun and fresh air.

“How was it?” Betty asked as Ilona took her shoes off.

“It was a nice day.” She wished that Grace were there.

“Is that all?” Lily sank down on the edge of the bed. “It was a nice day? What did you do?”

“We met at the station, walked through the Botanical Gardens, bought some food, hired a boat, had a picnic and went to a pub. That’s about it.”

“You are annoyingly economical with words sometimes, Ilke.”

Ilona shrugged and smothered a yawn. She didn’t want to talk about the kiss because she was still not sure how it made her feel, apart from speechless.

“I’m sorry, I think I’m just tired, all that fresh air and sunshine. Anyway, you may get to meet him one of these days, being that Debden isn’t all that far. He said something about trying to get up here and meet at the pub, so you can all have a good nose.”

Betty grinned. “Ooooh, will he bring some of his American friends with him, do you think?”

She laughed. “I have no idea. Perhaps I should write and tell him to.”

“But are you still just friends?”

“Yes, we’re still just friends.” She yawned again. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go and have a shower and then I’m going to bed, because I’m shattered.”

Chapter Thirteen

Dear Ilke,

I’m sorry that I haven’t written for a while but, as you can imagine, I’ve been busy trying to find my feet here, not to mention busy flying. The usual things, bomber escort and fighter sweeps over France. Touch wood, I’ve managed to avoid trouble so far. However, I don’t think the squadron leader was all that impressed when I did a Victory Roll after our last trip across the channel. The lads are all right. We all seem to get along quite well, and it’s nice to be among my fellow countrymen again, although I won’t lie, I miss the boys from the 19th. We’d been together a long time and we’d been through a lot. That’s the trouble with this life, Ilke. There’s very little that’s constant. I guess that’s why our friendship has become so important to me, because you are constant, not to mention excellent company. I really did enjoy that day in Cambridge. It was a haven of peace amid all this turmoil. My only regret was that it passed too quickly. I really hope we can do it again, one day soon. I hate to admit it, but I miss you. You seem to carry serenity with you and I always feel so much better when I have spent time with you. I hope you’re not blushing when you read this, but it’s late, I’m tired and I tend to ramble on at times like these.

Now for the really bad news. There is talk that we might get shipped out somewhere out of the country. I can’t say where, suffice to say, any future visits to Cambridge would be out of the question. We are busy getting ready, just in case we do go. I’m hoping that I’ll be able to get a day before we do leave. I’ll let you know. I hope it doesn’t happen, not now.

I’ll keep this short before my writing degenerates into an illegible scrawl, something that Mom always likes to point out. I hope you’re keeping well and safe and I hope to see you, again soon, RAF willing.

Regards, etc.

Francis

“Ilke? Is everything all right?” Betty sat down on the opposite bed. “Is it bad news?”

Ilona sighed and read through the letter again. “Perhaps… It seems that Francis may be posted overseas. Bloody RAF.” It didn’t seem fair that, just when their friendship had become so easy to live with, Francis would be upping sticks and going elsewhere.

“Admit it. You just want him to kiss you again.” Betty laughed.

“Perhaps I do, just for fun. I suppose I had better write back to him.”

Dear Francis,

Thank you for your letter. I am not surprised that you’re busy. I can’t imagine what it must be like for you, after almost three years with the 19
th
to be thrown into a completely different squadron and have to find your way around so quickly. I find it a real nuisance, being shifted from pillar to post, and I can tell you that there’s nothing worse, for me than walking into a hut full of complete strangers. At least, this time, Betty and Lily came from Mildenhall with me, so it was much easier. It has to be tougher for you, because your life, literally, depends on the others in your squadron.

I am very sorry to hear that you may be going overseas. I hope it does not happen because I, also, have really come to value our friendship, probably for the same reason—the constancy which we so need at times like these. As for my ‘serenity’, that comes as a surprise to me. I never really considered myself a serene person at all, and, yes, I did blush when I read that, but I forgive you your late night ramble. I can be just as bad. I hope that we do get a chance to meet again before you go. If it’s any help, we do get most Saturday nights off and go to the pub. It is the highlight of the week and I can certainly understand why you speak so fondly of the John Barleycorn. It is charming and there’s nothing nicer than sitting outside on a warm summer’s evening listening to the birdsong. Are there any nice pubs down your way? Have you had a chance to find out, yet?

Some news from my family. Ash is pregnant. Needless to say, plans for the wedding have changed dramatically and I think they plan on getting married within the next week or so. Sadly, I won’t be able to make it, but I think Mama and Papa were going to try and get there. Would it be wrong of me to say that I was not at all surprised? I do hope that everything works out for them and I suppose that Ash will be will be leaving the WRNS before too long and moving back home. Mama still can’t quite believe that she is going to be a grandmother. She refuses to believe that she’s old enough and she says that she is not going to start knitting booties and blankets. Aunty Ilke won’t be knitting either, mainly, because she can’t.

I must go. It’s time to head over to the canteen for dinner. I have to say that I’m starving. It seems like ages since lunch.

Take care,

Regards, etc.

Ilke

* * * *

“I’ll get this round.” Ilona rose from the table. It was their first visit to the pub since the end of June and the first warm day for a week. Lily and Betty had also managed to make the escape. They all sat at a table outside, overlooking the quiet lane. The evening was still and the silence pierced by the calls of swifts and a mourning dove. Ilona took everyone’s orders and walked into the warm, smoky gloom of the pub.

“Same again for everyone, love?” the barmaid asked as Ilona put the empty glasses down.

“Yes please.” She leaned against the bar and gazed at the horse brasses gleaming on the dark wooden beams. She hadn’t heard from Francis for a fortnight and wondered if he had left the country. The barmaid placed the drinks on the tray and Ilona handed her the money.

“Ilke,” Betty whispered, her face flushed. “There’s a tall handsome American outside looking for you.”

“Nice try, Betty. Stop teasing.”

“No, really.” Her friend grabbed her arm. “Never mind about the drinks, I’ll wait for the change. You get out there.”

“What does he look like?”

She held her arm up. “About that high, brown hair and the most gorgeous, melty brown eyes.”

“Melty brown eyes?” That sounded like Francis and Ilona felt lightness inside. “All right, I’ll go and see for myself.” She tried not to hurry to the door and hoped that she looked calmer than she felt. She was annoyed with the fluttering of her stomach.

He rested against the low wall, hands in his pockets, by the table where two men in dress blues had joined the girls, who were chatting excitedly. She smiled when he grinned at her.

“Hello, Ilke.” He put his hand on her shoulder and kissed her cheek. “It’s nice to see you.”

“What a nice surprise. I thought you had gone.”

“No, it seems that you can’t get rid of me that easily. We’re not going now.”

“Thank goodness for that.”

He glanced over her shoulder. “We have an audience. There are two women goggling at us, craning their necks to hear every word.”

She giggled. “I suppose we had better go and join them.”

“If we must.”

“It would be very rude not to.”

Space was made for them at the table, and Francis found a couple of chairs. Everyone fell into talking. Ilona was amused by her companions’ flirtation with the two Americans.

“You’re looking well.” He leaned close.

“Thank you.” She thought that
he
looked very well.

He took a sip of his beer and studied the foam on the side of the glass for a moment. “We were supposed to go to Russia, so we had a lucky escape.”

“Yes, you did. That’s a world away.”

“I’m glad we didn’t go. I wasn’t looking forward to it, not just being there, but also being so far away. I can’t imagine I would have been able to write.”

She was surprised at the relief she felt. “I’m glad you didn’t go. That would’ve been dreadful.”

He grinned. “For you or for me?”

“I’m relieved for you. I can’t imagine that it would have been a very hospitable place.”

His hand strayed toward hers and covered it. “Now we can think about Cambridge, again.”

“That would be nice.”

They got caught up in the conversation around the table for a while. Harry, Francis’ wingman, bought the next round of drinks as the sun began to slide beyond the trees.

“Can we go for a walk?” Francis whispered in her ear. “I need to talk to you.”

“Yes, all right.” Her pulse quickened. She wasn’t sure whether it was from excitement or apprehension.

He rose and helped her with her chair. “We’re just going for a little walk before it gets too dark.” He held out his hand and Ilona took it, ignoring Lily’s raised eyebrow. They strolled along the quiet lane while the swifts called out in pursuit of midges and bats emerged in the silvery dusk. They walked close, their shoulders touching.

“Is everything all right?”

“I’ve been thinking, Ilke. This war isn’t going to get any easier or any less dangerous, especially if we finally manage to get onto the continent. If anything happens to me, my parents get a telegram, as next of kin. I don’t want you to have to get a letter from your parents or my grandparents telling you the news. I don’t think that’s fair on you, because you deserve more than that”—he offered her a sad smile—“my constant friend.”

Ilona swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat. This wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have. She fought with memories she didn’t want to remember.

“I’ve had a word with Harry,” he continued. “I’ve made him promise that if anything happens to me, he’s to come and tell you himself. After all, he’s my wingman. He’ll know more than anyone will. Plus, he has a car, so he can drive here sooner rather than later.”

“You would do that for me?”

He trailed his fingers across her cheek. “I think it’s only fair, don’t you? You’re very important to me. You’ve kept me sane these past few months.”

Ilona stared at him numbly.

“Are you all right?”

“I…I think so. I just don’t know what to say. I don’t want to think about anything happening to you.”

“Neither do I, but I thought it would be best to be prepared, just in case.”

Her mind was a tangle of thoughts. Old hurts rose to the surface and she pushed them away but quick tears betrayed her and she dashed at her eyes with her hand.

“Ilke.” He drew her into his arms. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m sorry.”

Ilona let him hold her, not caring that they were standing in the middle of a quiet lane in the gathering dusk while bats fluttered overhead and the waning moon crept above the shadowed rooftops. He moved his hand through her hair and his lips brushed her temple, a light, fleeting touch. “It’s all right,” he whispered. “I’ll do my best not to hurt you.”

“I know.” She sniffed.

He put his hand under her chin and kissed her. It was sweet, languid and stirred up things that she had long forgotten. Ilona responded with equal deliberation, letting her hands drift to his face to feel the warmth of his skin against the evening chill.

He kissed her palm and sighed. “I could do this all night, Ilke, but you do realize that we’re standing in the middle of the road, it’s getting dark and there is a blackout. We will likely be run over.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” She felt regret when he let her go.

“We should get back to the pub.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t worry. There will be other times, preferably somewhere more private.” He caught her hand and kissed it. “If that’s all right with you.”

“That would be fine.” Ilona wanted more.

They turned back toward the pub. “I’ll hold you to that, one day.”

“Don’t worry, I shan’t forget.”

“Did you get lost?” This was Harry. “Your drinks are getting warm.”

“It’s a nice evening. We had a walk. That’s all.” Francis retrieved his beer.

“Are you sure? Is that hay I see in Ilona’s hair? Did you find a haystack?”

Ilona laughed and Francis squeezed her hand. “Alas, no,” he replied. “Not this time.”

Betty giggled. “Ilke, a haystack? Surely not!”

The conversation steered to other topics and they sat in the moonlit darkness until the landlord called for closing time.