A Kestrel Rising (28 page)

“I’d say you both have it bad for each other.”

* * * *

“Ilke?” Grace set down her glass and peered over Ilona’s shoulder. “What did you say your Francis looked like?”

“Tall, brown hair, brown eyes…why?”

“Two men in American uniforms have just walked through the front door. There’s a tall one with brown hair and brown eyes and he looks like he’s searching for someone.”

“Are you joking, Grace?”

“No, turn around and see for yourself.”

Ilona refused to believe that Francis would make the journey from Debden to see her on a Saturday night when his letters had been full of accounts of long missions and dogfights. He would want to rest, surely. Nonetheless, she turned in her chair. Her heart pounded and she tried to subdue the hope that rose in her. Harry spotted her first. He grinned, waved and grabbed his companion’s arm. Ilona stood and watched the warm smile spread across Francis’ face when Harry pointed him in her direction. He was across the room in a heartbeat and swept her up in an enthusiastic embrace.

She clung to him. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d surprise you. Harry fancied a drink or two so we drove up.” He stepped back and touched her face. “I can see the surprise worked.”

Her legs trembled. “Yes, it did. I don’t know what to say.”

“
Hello, Francis, it’s lovely to see you
, would do for a start.”

“Hello, Francis, it’s lovely to see you,” she echoed. She wished they weren’t standing in the middle of a crowded, smoky pub.

“Francis,” Harry said, “Why don’t you put Ilke down and I’ll buy the drinks.”

They returned to the table. Ilona couldn’t stop looking at Francis as he sat beside her, his fingers entwined with hers.

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Welcome back to the flatlands, darling.”

“Thank you. It’s very nice to be back.”

“I missed you,” he whispered. “I wanted to see you so badly that I had to drive Harry’s lousy car to get here. I’m not even going to tell you what we had to go through to get the gas for the damn thing. It was worth it, just to see the look on your face.”

Harry returned with the drinks. “Are you two going to join in the conversation or are you just going to gaze at each other all night?”

Ilona knew what she would have preferred, as Francis’ leg brushed against hers. She bit her lip as desire rose and flickered inside.

“Just let Ilke and me have a few minutes outside.” He stood up. “We’ll be back.”

She followed him out into the cold night. The waxing moon picked out vague shadows in the garden and the drone of departing bombers shattered the illusion of peace.

“Damn war.” Francis drew her into his arms. “I can’t sit around a table and chat until I’ve said hello to you properly, darling.”

“I know.” Ilona closed her eyes when he kissed her. She shivered as he caressed her. He pulled her closer and leaned against the wall.

“Ilke…” His voice was a long sigh against her mouth. “What I wouldn’t give to be somewhere else with you right now.”

“Yes.” The scent of him was enough to summon up a host of memories. The heat of his hands stirred up even more.

“We need to go to Cambridge again.” His lips were firm against her throat. “A nice quiet bed and breakfast somewhere. I know it will only be for a couple of days, but it’s better than nothing.”

“It could be a garden shed, as far as I’m concerned.” She took his face in her hands and kissed him. “I just want to be with you. I miss you so much.”

“Me too.” Another sigh. “All the letters in the world can’t make up for being with you.”

Ilona leaned against him while he held her in silence and stroked her hair. She ached to tell him how much she loved him. She felt the words on her lips and took a deep breath…

“Oi! Lovebirds!” The rude and brilliant interruption of an ARP torch flickered across the pub garden. “Sorry!”

“Jeez,” Francis growled. “Can’t we have a moment’s peace?”

“Sorry, mate, I didn’t mean to intrude.” The ARP’s tin helmet gleamed in the moonlight. “You can never be too careful these days.”

“There’s no damn German spies here, mate.”

“I can see that. I’ll leave you in peace.” The circle of torchlight bobbed away.

“Dammit.” Francis took her hand. “I suppose we’d better get back inside or we’ll end up with a crowd out here, with our luck.”

“I suppose so.” Ilona wound her fingers through his while they walked back to the pub. She hoped that there would be another moment where she would have both the courage and the chance to tell him how she felt.

* * * *

“Ilke, you’re miles away. Are you all right?”

“I just like this song. That’s all.”

“Happy memories?”

“Very.” She sighed and folded the letter. “I can’t hear it without thinking of Francis.”

Grace chuckled. “Oh dear, I hope, for your sake, that you get to see him again soon. All this lovelorn sighing is quite funny.”

“Am I really that bad?”

“No, I’m only joking. After everything you have been through, it’s nice to see you happy.”

“Thank you. I really try not to think too hard about what he does for a living.”

“I can’t imagine. But he’s been at it a long time so he knows what he’s doing.”

“That’s true, but I still wish this was all over.”

“Do you think you’ll get married?”

“I don’t even know if he loves me. He just says that he cares for me more than he should and that he wants the war over and done with first. I can’t say that I blame him. I’ve decided that the time we have spent together and will spend together, is worth the worry and heartache. I made a promise to Ian that I would live my life, and that’s what I’m doing.” She put the letter in the envelope and wrote the address. “I think that’s the least I can do.”

“I can’t believe how things change,” Grace said. “When I think of what you used to say about Francis and then as time went on, after that hospital visit, I saw how things changed.” She laughed. “It was like watching a miracle in progress. Now you’re wearing his ID tags around your neck and writing to each other constantly. It’s lovely to see.”

“It is rather miraculous, when you think about it,” Ilona agreed. “When I think back to that first day and how awful and obnoxious he was, I can’t believe that he’s the same person.”

“He was probably shy.”

She laughed, “Francis? Shy? I can’t see it myself. One thing he has never been is shy.”

“Overwhelmed by your beauty then?”

“Oh, Grace, please…stop.”

* * * *

My darling Ilke,

I have managed to snatch a few moments peace to write to you and, yes, as you imagined, I do lie on my bunk, propped up against my pillow, writing letters to you. When I say ‘peace’, I should tell you that Harry is flat out, snoring his head off, so it isn’t very quiet, and one of the other guys has suggested a competition to see who can get the most rolled up bits of paper into Harry’s wide-open mouth…now you know how we amuse ourselves in our spare time.

Same old routine here, mission after mission after mission. Sometimes we escort the bomber boys and sometimes they let us roam at will across the countryside, attacking airfields. Now that, my dear, is very interesting, because the Mustang has useful guns and the idea is to swoop down as low as we can and shoot up everything we see. It has its hazards, namely the flak. The best way to avoid that, we’ve discovered is to fly, more or less, just above the ground because the guns can’t get that low and the airfields get their grass trimmed, all part of the service provided by the USAAF. It adds a little variety to the week, dogfight one day, strafing run the next. We had quite a big set-to the other day. We were bounced by about a hundred enemy planes and the fight was all over the place, from all the way up to about twenty-three thousand feet to the ground, there were parachutes everywhere and thirty-three kills by the end of the day. I have to say, Ilke, these planes are damn good now that we’ve got the measure of them.

We had a VIP visit from General Eisenhower. He was there to give Blakeslee a medal, which, I should add, was well deserved. However, now he’s decided that we all need to behave ourselves a bit better. We had a letter from him yesterday and, from now on, we have to:

Wear our proper uniforms… (Oh, all right, if we must)

Eat at the times we’re told to eat… (Why not when we’re hungry?)

Show up on time… (No comment)

Control our dogs… (I, personally, don’t have one)

Salute… (Never been a problem for me. I was in the RAF).

Participate in athletics… (What? Me? Are you kidding? Does playing the piano count?)

No unauthorized use of group vehicles… (Innocent, Harry has a car)

Moreover, to drive the point home, he had us flying practice until after midnight last night, so we’ve all learned our lesson, and we will be good boys from now on. I daresay he would probably not be impressed by what’s going on as I write this. There are little balls of paper flying all over the place. None have hit their target and Harry remains blissfully unaware. Are you sure you want to be seen with me?

It looks like I will get a couple of days in May. The Mustangs are having new tanks fitted at some point, so we’ll be grounded for a few days. I have a horrible feeling if I stick around here, I’ll end up being pressed into some dreadful athletics competition, and the only athletics I like take place far away from a large, green field and would not be for public consumption. I’ll try and find out when I can get away and let you know as soon as I can. I’m sure one of the guys here will know of somewhere nice to stay for a couple of days. We can meet at the station, like we did last time. I can’t wait, darling. Do you still have that yellow dress?

Francis

* * * *

Dearest Mama,

I hope that everything is all right at home, especially now that the twins are running around like mad. I hope that they don’t cause too much trouble, although, I suspect, that may be a vain wish on my part. I can imagine it’s rather chaotic at the moment. At least, now that the warm weather is here, you can turn them loose outside for a little while. Although I can imagine Papa might get a little nervous if they venture too close to the vegetable garden.

Is there any chance that you can send me my yellow dress, now that it’s getting warmer? I’m enclosing my green winter dress because I won’t need that, hopefully, for a few months. Not that I get much of a chance to wear civilian clothes, but it would be nice to have it handy, just in case.

Francis is fine. He’s keeping very busy, as you can imagine, but we write to each other regularly and we may meet up in Cambridge in May, which is why it would be nice to have that dress.

I’m sorry this letter is so short. I’m sitting in the depot waiting for my lorry to be loaded up before I head off to Newmarket. I don’t mind Newmarket. The same sergeant is there, so I always get a cup of tea and a sandwich.

I promise I’ll write a longer letter soon.

Lots of love,

Ilke

Chapter Twenty-Three

Ilona leaned out of the window when the train pulled into Cambridge. She realized that it had been almost two years to the day since she had last met Francis there. She smiled at the memory and wondered if that was why he asked about the yellow dress. She wished she were wearing it, instead of her uniform. It was too warm a day. The wretched, starched collar chafed at her neck and she hated the rule that they had to wear their uniforms when they left the base. The discomfort disappeared when she found Francis. He stood on the platform, tall and striking. She watched him as he searched along the length of the arriving train and her heart began to skip as he spotted her and waved. He walked swiftly along the platform as the train slowed to a halt and, by the time it stopped, he was waiting by the door, grinning hugely.

“Hello, Ilke.” He swept her into a hug.

“Hello.” She didn’t care that they stood in the middle of a busy railway station platform while he kissed her with enthusiasm.

“Darling, it’s so good to see you,”

She stepped back to look at him. “It’s good to see you too and to see that you’re following your CO’s orders and wearing your uniform properly, Captain Robson.”

“Cheeky girl.” He kissed her once more and took her hand. “Let’s find that hotel.”

“Hotel?”

“Do you really think I’d book us into a little bed and breakfast, given that we won’t be playing tiddlywinks in our room, my dear? We don’t want a nosy landlady, who’ll want to know when we want tea and clean towels. We need a big hotel where no one really minds what we do, as long as we don’t make too much of a noise.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Ah, no, well you wouldn’t because you’re a well brought up young lady. It’s best to leave the baser thoughts to me. I hope you didn’t have any high minded notions about sight-seeing or museums or colleges because, if you did, we have some negotiating to do.” He took a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. “We just have a bus to catch. We could walk—it’s not that far—but I’m not in the mood for wasting time with something as wholesome and time-consuming as walking. It’s been too long, darling.” He squeezed her hand.

“It has.”

They stood, hand in hand at the bus stop until a bus arrived. Francis checked his paper once more and decided that it was the right one. It was a short ride up Station Road and Hills Road to Parker’s Piece, where they left the bus, staring across the expanse of parkland. “That’s it, there.” Francis pointed across the green. “The University Arms, will that do?”

It looked comfortably large and anonymous to Ilona.

“It seems perfect,” she replied, as they walked across the grass under a sweep of blue sky, dotted with wind-driven clouds.