London Dawn (53 page)

“The squadron has bicycles. Come on then, Sister Jane.”

“Sister Jane. You make me sound like a nun.”

“That’s about the measure of my relationship to you, isn’t it?”

She patted his face. “Don’t pout. Let me get out of my gear and I’ll be right with you.”

He flashed a sudden smile that made his face as bright as his ginger hair. “I’ll fetch the bikes.”

Jane found the room she was sharing with two other WAAFs and peeled off her heavy flight jacket.

“Who was that you were talking with?” asked one of the WAAFs as she brushed out her hair. “You don’t waste any time, do you?”

“Oh, don’t talk rot.” Jane sat on the edge of her bed and tugged off her leather and fleece flight pants. “He’s a cousin. He’s been posted here. There’s nothing more to it than that.”

“If that’s the case, you don’t mind if I strike up a friendship, do you? He’s on the good side of gorgeous.”

“I don’t mind at all, Alice.” Jane smiled and took the brush from her friend’s hand and began to use it on her own hair. “But first, he’s promised me fish and chips. After that you can do whatever you want with him.”

Alice laughed. “That sounds fair.”

A week later Jane and Alice and another WAAF ferried in three more Spitfires for the new air base. Alice lost no time in getting out of her flight gear and into a fresh WAAF uniform and heading off with Billy in a motorcar for a larger town twenty miles away.

“Do you feel all right about that?” asked the other WAAF as she and Jane took turns in the shower after Alice disappeared with Billy.

“Of course I feel all right, Margaret,” Jane replied. “Why shouldn’t I
feel all right? He’s a handsome boy and Alice is a pretty girl. They look splendid together.”

Margaret toweled down her red hair. “Think how splendid you’d look on his arm.”

“For heaven’s sake. Why is everybody going on about Billy and me? He’s too young—”

“He isn’t, you know,” interjected Margaret.

“—and it’s too soon.”

“You told me your fiancé died almost six months ago. That’s half a year.”

“It’s not long enough. And Billy is the brother of my fiancé…both of my fiancés.”

“So?”

“So I don’t want any more brothers. Ever.”

“Are you sure, Jane?”

“I’m jolly well sure. I don’t want to hear anything more about him. I shall request that I not ferry aircraft to this base after this assignment. You and Alice can handle that. I’ll take care of Middle Wallop.”

“Suit yourself.”

“I intend to, thank you.”

Jane’s request was denied, and she found herself back at Hunters Down in the middle of March. She and Alice were flying in replacements for aircraft that had been damaged in combat. The RAF had been conducting what it called Circus operations since the middle of January, with British fighters and bombers attacking German targets in Europe at the same time. A number of RAF aircrew had already been lost over France or in the cold waters of the Channel. As Jane yanked back her canopy and spotted a cluster of pilots standing by one of the hangars, she immediately experienced a rush of bad feelings.

“What’s up, do you suppose?” she asked Alice as they walked across the runway.

“I hate to ask, but I suppose we must.”

The men avoided their eyes when Alice and Jane came up.

“Cheers, mates,” Alice greeted them. “Storm brewing?”

No one responded. One of the men offered them a package of cigarettes. Alice took two and stuffed the extra in her jacket pocket.

“Right,” she said. “I’ve got a smoke out of you. Now maybe you could
tell me what’s going on? We’ve brought two new Spits in for your squadron.”

“We’ll be needing a lot more than that.” The man who had offered her the cigarettes nodded his head south toward the Channel. “A bit of bad luck. Two of our lads have bought it, and another two are missing.”

The familiar feeling of ice in Jane’s stomach and along her back and arms went right through her.

Alice accepted a light from one of the men. “Who’s gone?”

“Burton and Chambers.”

“Who’s missing then?”

“Addison. And your chum, Billy Sweet.”

Alice continued to smoke without flinching. “I see.”

“No one saw either of them go down. If they parachuted into France, they’re prisoners of war and that’s that. But if they went into the drink and there’s no one to pick them up, they’ve had it.”

“They’ve got their Mae Wests, don’t they?”

“The water’s like the North Pole.”

Jane went to her room and sat on the edge of her bed. She didn’t want to cry, but she couldn’t stop herself. Alice came in and put an arm around her.

“You’ll be all right,” said Alice.

“No, I don’t think I will.”

“Feelings for your cousin?”

“Yes…of course I have feelings. He’s family.”

“If he made it back in and I offered him up to you for a date, what would you say?”

“What?”

“If I went out with Flying Officer Cigarette there—he’s not half bad—and let you have my Billy for the evening, would you take me up on it?”

“Of course not. This isn’t a game. If he comes back in I shall give him a hug and thank God and then go on about my business.”

“I ought to say that was my final offer, but I’ll give you until he lands safely. That will help you know what you feel or don’t feel about him.”

Jane snapped up her head, her cheeks wet. “Are you deaf? I don’t feel anything other than what a cousin feels for a cousin.”

“I see it otherwise.”

“You do? How’s that?”

“I’ve watched you watching us. Not much of the cousin thing about your eyes then, is there?”

“You’re mistaken.”

“Women fool men. Women even fool themselves. But they don’t fool other women.”

There was a fast knocking on the door.

“What is it?” asked Alice sharply.

“Flying Officer Sweet’s coming in! He’s trailing smoke, but he’s coming in.”

The two women rushed out. The Spitfire swooped straight down, one wing dipping, bounced three or four times, slewed in a circle, and came to a violent stop, its tail rising as its nose plowed into the grass and dirt. Flames began to ripple along the fuselage.

“Get him out!” Alice and Jane heard a man shout. “You’ve got less than half a minute!”

A rescue truck was already roaring across the runway, but Jane couldn’t stand still.

“Where are you going?” Alice grabbed Jane by the arm. “You can’t do anything.”

Jane shook Alice loose and began to run. “Eva pulls men from burning buildings. Why can’t I pull Billy from a burning plane?”

“Get back!” one of the rescue crew shouted at her as they pumped water over the plane.

Jane jumped onto the wing and pulled at the canopy with all her strength. One of the rescue crew leaped up to help her. With a crack the canopy opened and slid back. Jane took Billy’s head and shoulders in her arms while the man beside her tore off the seat straps. Billy’s eyes were closed, and blood had dried at the corner of his mouth.

“I’ll get his legs!” the man barked. “Have you got his head?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s go. Smartly now. One, two, three—heave!”

They half dragged, half carried him out of the cockpit and moved him as far away from the plane as they could. The others in the rescue crew continued to hose down the wings and fuselage. Smoke rolled over the airfield.

“Are you hit, sir?” asked the man, bending over Billy after they had laid him on the grass.

Billy’s eyelids barely moved. “Don’t know,” he managed to get out.

Jane continued to cradle his head with her hands. “There’s blood at the side of your mouth.”

“Bit my tongue.” He tried to look up at her. “Fancy having you hold my head in your lap, cousin.”

“Shut up.”

The man from the rescue crew looked at her in surprise.

Tears were cutting down her cheeks. “It wouldn’t surprise me if you arranged this whole affair with the
Luftwaffe
just so you could snag my feelings and give them a go.”

“Arrange getting shot down?”

“I wouldn’t put it past you, Billy Sweet. You’re cut from the same cloth as your brothers.”

“Clerical cloth?”

“Sweet, gorgeous, and clever. And impossible for me not to care about no matter how hard I try.”

“So you do have feelings for me?”

“I said I did, didn’t I?”

“Does this mean—?”

“It doesn’t mean anything at all. Here comes the ambulance. We’ll talk later—once they’ve given you a clean bill of health.
If
they give you a clean bill of health.”

“Nothing will keep me from having a clean bill of health right now. You’re better than a shot of morphine.”

“Shut up.” Jane still had tears on her cheeks.

Billy Sweet walked out of the infirmary in his flight gear a half hour later.

“That’s it?” demanded Jane. “That’s all?”

“It is.”

“What about the blood?”

“I told you. I bit my tongue.”

“I think you did that on purpose too.”

“Think what you like. You always have.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “There are problems that have to be dealt with, though they are not of a medical nature.”

“What problems?” asked Jane.

“I promised the night to Alice weeks ago.”

“Is that what you think? I’ve made my own arrangements. Or she has. Alice said we could have the evening together if we wanted it. Just this once.”

“She did?”

“She did.”

“Why would she do that?”

“Ask her.”

Billy shook his head. “No, I think not. She might change her mind.” He gestured with his thumb. “I have to talk with the intelligence officer and fill out some forms. Will you wait?”

“Of course I’ll wait.” Jane folded her arms over her chest. “I’m sorry about your men.”

“Thanks. The war didn’t end with the fight over Britain. That was just the opening bell.” He began to walk away, stopped, and looked back. “You look absolute in an Irvin flight jacket.”

“I have it on because of the wind. It’s sharp.”

“I don’t care why you have it on, Jane. You look absolute.”

“Absolute what? What you’re saying doesn’t make sense.”

“It does to me.”

An hour later, as they ate and chatted in the village pub, Jane reached across the table and put her hand over his.

“I can’t have you die, Billy Sweet,” she said, cutting him off in mid-sentence. “It was too hard with your brothers. I can’t go through that again. You must live forever.”

Billy splashed more malt vinegar onto his chips. “Then I shall.”

“Thank you, but I just said it to say it. You can’t guarantee immortality. I wish you could. I suppose that and your age are the things that have held me back from even dreaming of dreaming about you.”

“I like older women.”

“You don’t even know any older women except me.”

“Well, you’re the only woman I like.”

“Right. What about Alice?”

“Alice was an interlude,” Billy said, popping a chip into his mouth. “Until you came to your senses.”

“Really?”

He shrugged. “She’s very cute. But I hoped going out with her might make you look at matters differently.”

Jane tapped her fingers on the side of her teacup. “Alice swears it did.”

“Did it or didn’t it?”

“Billy, all this is happening faster than the new Spitfire Mark Fives doing an attack run. I fly them now, so I know how fast they can go. I can’t go that fast, Billy. I care about you more than I want to admit. I have feelings I don’t want to own up to. You’re too beautiful, you’re too fun, you’re too much like your brothers, and on top of that, you have your own little twists I used to think were cute but which now I find far too attractive. So I want you to take me back to my room and we’ll talk again when I ferry more aircraft down here. I’m getting trained on the Hurricane II and your other squadron here is slated to get those in short order. I’ll be back in two weeks.”

“What? That’s tonight’s date? That’s it?”

Jane got up. “That’s our date.”

“It was no different than buying you fish and chips when you were my cousin.”

“I still am your cousin. After a fashion.”

“This is quite a disappointment.”

“Is it? Well, Billy, I need some time to sort myself out when it comes to you, and my reaction to your crash landing is not the most useful way to do that.” She made her way to the doors of the pub. “Will you cycle back with me?”

“Of course I will.”

“It’s actually a clear evening, so the ride need not be as disappointing as the date.”