Isabella’s Airman (12 page)

“Thank you, really. You know, I could slip some to Teddy as well, if you like.”

Her blue eyes were steady. The pain in them clear. “Even if he avoids the next missions, there’s no guarantee. You know that, Bella. You’re changing history, rewriting the archives. You might only buy him a few days, and then you’ll be stuck here. Alone. Is that really what you want?” Her voice wavered, her face crumpled, and we fell into each other’s arms.

That was the one outcome I refused to consider.

The one that terrified me most of all.

We were due back in the mess hall at two a.m. Juliet dozed a little while I lay staring out at the night sky. Watching. Waiting. The clock ticked slowly, counting off the minutes with painful regularity. A light cloud cover drifted across the stars, blanketing them a few at a time, the moon fading and vanishing before me. And then, a little before one a.m., I heard a distant rumble.

Sitting up straight, I listened hard, straining to hear the noise. Not thunder, not the fuel trucks driving past. That was an airplane engine. Was the op complete?

I scrambled from my bed and shook Juliet’s shoulder as I stepped to the window. “They’re back. They’re
back
. I’m going to watch them land.”

As the heavy bombers circled around, following the dim lights outlining the runway, I counted them back. Eighteen had taken off. I prayed the same number would return.

Four landed in quick succession, peeling off the runway and trundling down toward the hangars. A bustle of trucks and personnel moved back and forth, the routine operations of the ground crew checking their charges back in. I heard more rumbling overhead, more crews coming safely home. Davy might have already landed. I clung to this idea, even as Juliet and I sat on a patch of dry grass to wait. The incoming airmen were ferried to the Operations Block to debrief after their mission. I would have no firm news until they finally claimed their supper.

Another three landed together and then a loner. We waited silently, holding hands in the darkness. It seemed an age before another group of four and another loner. Thirteen in total.

They couldn’t have lost five. Could they? Would Davy be safe? With heavy hearts, we set off toward the mess hall, turning to watch another two landing in a group.

Three to go. They would be landing any minute.

I wrapped a scarf around my hair and smoothed my apron. Mrs. Latham greeted us with a tired smile. “They had a rough trip tonight. It could be a while before they come in.”

Juliet found her voice first. “How do you know? Is there news?”

Mrs. Latham paused and then spoke carefully. “My daughter is on duty in the control tower. I don’t know the details, I’m sorry.”

There was an uncomfortable silence while Juliet and I stared at her, and then she ducked her head. “Right girls, let’s get the cocoa ready.”

I snagged Juliet’s arm and held her back, waiting until Mrs. Latham was a few feet away. I wasn’t sure if I could even say what was running through my head, but I had to speak. To get it out in the open. I swallowed hard. “Do you think…?” I shook my head. Davy would be fine. He had to be.

“I don’t know.” Juliet’s whisper was so quiet I almost didn’t hear it.

I wanted to run across to the control tower. I knew they wouldn’t tell me anything; I’d have to wait here for news. My palms sweated, a dull headache throbbing across my forehead, and my eyes itched. A cold, hard ball of anxiety had taken root in the pit of my stomach and threatened to make me vomit. Somehow, I managed to drag myself to the counter with Juliet to set out plates and mugs and stir the vast jugs of cocoa. Stirring the hot drink endlessly, round and round, waiting. More waiting.

This is how my life would be as long as Davy stayed flying. How long would it take for him to move from active service, for us to have a life together? Lost in a daydream, I didn’t hear the first footsteps as they approached the kitchen, only realizing at the last minute that we had company.

“Bella.” Juliet spoke nervously. “They’re coming.”

I nodded, took a deep breath, and smiled at the first group to approach the counter, all the while looking eagerly for Davy. The airmen looked exhausted, gray lines of tiredness cutting into their faces, shadows beneath their eyes. They shuffled into a queue, yawning and cracking their knuckles, all pretense of joviality gone. There were none of the jokes and off-the-cuff remarks I’d grown accustomed to. And nobody would look me in the eye. They accepted their mugs of cocoa, helped themselves to the warm fruited buns, and drifted to their tables in little, quiet groups.

Some wore rough bandages on their hands, more than one was limping. I saw two with recent burns. And no sign of Davy.

As with the bombers landing, the airmen appeared in groups. I tried to work out how many were left to appear and failed. I handed out more mugs, more buns. Waited. God, the waiting was enough to drive me insane. The nausea was under control, just, as long as I kept myself busy. But as the clock inched round to three thirty, there was still no sign of Davy or his crew. And nobody had come in at all in the last twenty minutes.

Conflicting ideas warred in my head. Should I walk right up to the nearest group and ask them? Or beg Mrs. Latham for more information? I had to do something—
anything
. I could not just stand here and wait another minute. Drawing as deep a breath as I could manage, squashing down the waves of sickness again, I strode out into the mess hall and headed for the first table. I clutched the remnants of the cocoa, the jug acting as a shield.

Pasting a distinctly wobbly smile on my face, I held out the jug. “There’s some cocoa left. Would anyone like some?”

A couple of mugs were raised in answer. I took my time to pour, my hands shaking so much I feared I’d drop the thing. My lungs were tight and my heart pounding, but I had to ask—I needed to know. “Can you tell me, please…?” I hesitated, and several faces lifted to meet my gaze. My voice disappeared, and I croaked my next words. “C-for-Charlie. Are they back?”

It happened in slow motion. Two men looked away, matching flushes across their faces. One sad pair of eyes met mine. Behind me, Juliet wailed. The sad-eyed airman rose to his feet, speaking as though he were miles away, his voice sounding distorted. “I’m so very sorry.”

I dropped the jug and watched it bounce against the edge of the table, the dregs of the cocoa arcing out across my apron as it spun majestically in the air, dropping to the floor in a messy puddle.

I didn’t hear it, though, couldn’t hear anything over the buzzing in my head. The noise that told me my world had just fallen apart.

The first day after Davy was gone, I’d pleaded illness and stayed in bed. I
was
ill. The pain that had taken up residence in my chest was eating me from the inside out. My heart had been ripped out and devoured. If I was body-scanned, they’d see a bloody hole where it used to be.

All I had left was memories. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut and remembered every detail.

We lay in the wooded glade, dappled sunlight filtering through the trees, the buzzing of nearby bees soothing enough to make me sleepy. Or maybe that was due to the warmth of Davy’s arms, the heat pouring from his bare skin.

“Do you believe in fate, Isabella?”

He lay on his side propped up on one arm, the other draped across me, his fingers tracing lazy circles over my naked stomach. I tilted my head to press a kiss onto his throat. “Fate?”

“That everything has been preordained. That you and I were meant to meet, to be together.”

His fingers were trailed farther down, sparks of excitement flashing in their wake. I longed for him to kiss me again. “What do you think?”

My wish was granted. He leaned forward and claimed my lips in a kiss so hot, I was scorched. “I think I’ve been waiting all my life for you, Isabella.”
Kiss
. “No matter what happens,”
kiss
, “I will love you forever.”

Gathering me to him, slanting his mouth against mine, our lips met, and we surged together. I felt strong enough to take on the world. The kiss grew more demanding, hungrier. Davy moved so that I lay beneath him again, his hips wedged securely between my thighs. He’d removed his shirt, and his golden chest pressed against mine, skin to skin, the dusting of chest hair tickling against my breasts. I shifted to lick his nipple, the firm brown nub deliciously tight beneath my tongue, and his groan of delight rumbled through me.

“Tease,” he murmured, “but I can tease too.” One hand slipped between my legs, easing into my folds and flittering across my clit, as he called it, making me squirm. The sensation was intense, driving me to distraction. I could only writhe and beg for more.

“Please,” I whimpered, and he took pity. Dropping his head, he closed his mouth around one nipple, the shockwave making my back arch as another groan fell from my lips. At last, one finger penetrated me, easing inside, a second following, his thumb keeping up the pressure on my clit. I gasped, the breath tight in my lungs as I began the spiral, climbing higher, the spring in my belly coiling tighter with each feverish stroke from his thumb. And yes, God, at last. One final caress and I tumbled over the edge, moaning against his skin, my hands clutching his hair, electric shocks tearing me apart while Davy’s mouth glued me back together again.

•●•

I opened scratchy eyes to a lightening sky and tried to cling onto the memory. Failed.

Juliet’s muffled sobbing annoyed me. She hadn’t been in love with Teddy, hadn’t wanted to change her life for him—hadn’t been prepared to give up everything to be with him. I rubbed my hands across my face and wondered, not for the first time, why I couldn’t cry my heart out too.

Lying on my bed, I stared out through the window at the first glimmer of dawn. If I closed my eyes, I could pretend
this
was all a dream, the op was still in progress, and Davy was on his way back to me. I wanted to hang on to the memory of us together. Our stolen afternoon in the woods.

Had we done something to change the timeline? I would never know. Jock had flown after all, his suspected appendicitis not being severe enough to ground him. I’d hoped the crew being intact would have worked in their favor. Instead, the raid had been hit badly by flak and pursued by enemy fighters, with most of the Wellingtons limping home damaged. C-for-Charlie had collided with T-for-Tommy as they left the target and tried to avoid the ground fire. The sad-eyed airman who’d spoken to me in the mess hall was the wireless operator on T-for-Tommy. He’d seen Davy’s bomber spiraling down somewhere close to the Belgian border. No parachutes. And an explosion when it hit the ground.

No matter how tightly I closed my eyes, that image lurked in my head. My only escape was to sleep. And hopefully dream of my lover.

No matter how much I wanted to stay in bed again today, I couldn’t. We had our appointment with the
sentinel
.

As before, we perched on hard chairs and tried not to stare at the stern man sitting opposite us. He scratched out more notes in his little book and then fixed his icy gaze on me. “Student Gillman. At our last session, I asked you to expand your social analysis. What have you learned?”

How to fall in love? How to die on the inside?

Next to me, Juliet cleared her throat. “May I go first, sir?”

“I want to hear from Student Gillman.”

Despite spending the entire previous day in bed, I was tired beyond belief. I’d not slept properly since we arrived here, and I was exhausted. Weariness pressed down on me, sapping my strength and dissolving my common sense. I licked dry lips, swallowed, and tried to find something to say.

Juliet fidgeted in her seat. The clock ticked. I stayed silent.

“Student Gillman. I am waiting.”

I was waiting too. I wanted this to be over.

“I can’t do this.” My voice quavered, but I dug deep. “It’s wrong. We’re sitting here watching while they are dying. A few hundred miles away on the other side of the English Channel, soldiers are fighting and falling. The men here are risking their lives every few days, while we observe. How is that right?”