Isabella’s Airman (14 page)

“How do you know my name?” He paused and glanced at my own badge. “Student Gillman. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

He waited patiently for me to speak. I groped for my voice. “I’m sorry, you looked like someone else. I’ve just come back from a field trip where I met Davy Porteous.”
I fell in love with him.
“Right before he, ah…” I couldn’t say the words. Tears clouded my vision again. As I blinked to clear them, I saw his face light up.

“He was my ancestor. That’s why I came to view the archive.” There was a sudden flash of a lopsided smile; a dimple appeared and then vanished again. “Would you mind talking about him with me? We could, ah, go and have some refreshments.”

It felt as though he’d thrown me a lifebelt. I grasped it. “Yes, please. I’d like that.” A thought struck me. “He didn’t have any children.” I scrubbed at my eyes, at the tears threatening to fall.

Student Porteous frowned, a puzzled look on his face. “When he returned home after the war, he—”

I froze. “He returned home? How? I heard…I heard his Wellington crashed. All crew lost.”

Time seemed to stop between us. His frown gave way to another smile, so familiar I couldn’t believe this was a different person. “No, C-for-Charlie crashed on the border of Belgium, but Sergeant Porteous escaped. He was a hero. He rescued his two friends, Teddy and Jock, despite being wounded. Together they crossed Belgium, worked their way through occupied France, and arrived back in England months later.”

My knees shook. I couldn’t stand. Groping for the nearest seat, I sank into it. My head spun, the words flying around and around in circles.
He returned home. Davy returned home.

I drew in a shuddering breath.
He escaped
. Another breath.
He survived the war.
I closed my eyes as the pain engulfed me. I wasn’t there.
I didn’t wait for him.
I wanted to weep.

Somewhere over my head, Student Porteous was speaking, his voice gentle. “Some of his artifacts are held in the archives. Would you like to see them?”

•●•

I was glad to be sitting down when the archivist brought the box to the table and opened it before us. A photograph of Davy and Teddy, the paper yellowed and flaking at the edges. Some military badges. The metal RAF badge I recognized from his cap. My yellow ribbon, tied in a neat bow, the edges now ragged. I gulped as I stroked my finger over its protective cover. And a letter, held securely inside a clear sleeve. I glanced up at my companion, and he smiled encouragingly back at me.

“They called them Last Letters,” he explained. “The airmen and soldiers were encouraged to write them to their loved ones in the event of them not returning from a mission. Sergeant Porteous wrote one to Isabella.”

My heart just about stopped. He slid the letter toward me. I stroked the clear sleeve as my eyes filled up again. “Please…would you…” I gulped, unable to speak, but he understood.

Sitting back in my chair, eyes closed, it could have been my Davy reading it aloud to me.

My dearest, darling Isabella.

I asked you this afternoon if you believed in fate. I truly believe we were meant to be together. My time with you has been so short—a lifetime would never be enough—but every minute has meant more to me than the years before I met you. You have made me so happy, brought me so much love, I am a better person for loving you. If I live to be a hundred, I’ll never forget our afternoon in the woods.

But I know if you’re reading this, then I must have gone on ahead. My love, I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there with you. Promise me you’ll forget about me. I want you to live your life as if every day were your last. Be happy.

Even if I can’t be there, I will love you forever.

Always yours,

Davy

X

His words hung in the air, but I couldn’t speak yet.
Davy had written to me.
I could add this to my mental archive of everything-Davy.

“That’s odd.”

I opened my eyes and saw Student Porteous sifting through the artifacts. “What’s odd?”

“The other photographs are missing. I’ve looked at these many times before, and there should be more pictures. One I remember clearly was Sergeant Porteous and his wife.”

Oh no. I really did not want to hear this. In the space of half an hour, my world had turned inside out. To learn Davy had married was a step too far. Common sense told me he would have been lonely, but I didn’t want to see the evidence.

I sucked in a ragged breath and manufactured a very fake smile. “I should be going. Thank you for this. Really. It means a lot to me.”

He glanced at me, his brows knitted together. “I wanted to see it. The resemblance is uncanny. I wonder where it can be?”

The smile was making my cheeks ache. “Yes. You do look like him. I thought that straight away.”

“Not me. You.” He tugged at his hair. “You look exactly as I remember the picture of Isabella.”

What? For the second time, I was glad to be sitting. “I don’t understand.”

“There should be a picture here of Davy Porteous and Isabella. The girl he wrote the letter to. His wife.”

I stared in the mirror and assessed my appearance as critically as though I were looking at a stranger. The dark shadows beneath my eyes hinted at physical exhaustion, but the firm set of my jaw offset it. If anyone asked, I was working long hours to retrain. I was keen to take up a new posting, in a new time period, and the amount of information I had to absorb was colossal.

I knew there were whispers about why. Why I’d left behind my specialist period, an era I’d trained in for years and was as familiar with as my own time. I’d been given the opportunity to lead a squadron, and I’d turned it down. None of my
ghardian
peers understood, and I knew they questioned my judgment. I might never be given this promotion opportunity again. I must be unstable. More than one had mentioned PTSD.

Unstable? Yes. That summed it up. The armor I’d constructed over the years had been smashed to pieces. One crack was all it took. One slip of a girl. And now I had to painstakingly rebuild it, one day at a time.

I blinked and then twisted my head to examine the scar tissue. A dark red line snaked down from my hairline to my left temple. That was the only outward scar from my last jump. The others were mostly on the inside.

Grabbing my bag, I left my quarters and set off for the training center. A few hours of hard, physical exercise might leave me tired enough to sleep properly. It might also silence some of the relentless whispers inside my head, that I’d become weak.

I rounded the corner and nodded to one of the admin assistants that staffed the
ghardian
residential complex. “Lieutenant Gallagher.” He snapped a salute. “I just left you a message, sir. You have a visitor.” He gestured toward the reception area. “I put her in room one while I tracked you down.”

A visitor? None of the people I knew were in the habit of dropping by to see me. I kept my puzzlement from my face and nodded to the assistant. “Thank you.”

The first thing I saw from the doorway was her hair. A golden yellow plait hung halfway down her back. I blinked, unsure if I was hallucinating. By the way my heart was racing, the pulse booming in my ears, she was real. “Lila?” The name dried on my tongue when she turned around.

Younger than Lila, she had a narrower face and a classic peaches-and-cream complexion. Her eyes were a darker shade of blue, but her lips were the same rosebud pink.

I must have become weak if I really imagined Lila would come to see me. It was my decision to cut myself out of her life, and I had to live with that every day. She was happy, I knew that. She had Jared, and he was a worthy partner, but my gut still ached when I thought about her.

Hauling my attention back to the blonde girl staring at me, I tried to pull my usual armor back into place. “How may I help you?” It came out sharply, and her eyes widened. To her credit, she didn’t move.

“Lieutenant Gallagher?”

I nodded.

“My name is Student Juliet Delafield. I’m a friend of your cousin Isabella.” Her voice was soft, melodic, and didn’t betray her nerves. Her tightly clasped hands gave that away.

I’d tried to contact Isabella following her return from assignment, but she had declined to meet me. There was no reason for her friend to seek me out. “I ask again. How may I help you?”

A flush of color lined her cheeks, but she kept her gaze on me. “Can we go somewhere private, please?”

In reply, I stepped fully into the room and then closed the door behind me. I leaned on it and crossed my arms. “This
is
private.”

She lifted her chin, and pushed back her shoulders. Not intimidated by a surly
ghardian
. “I’m worried about Isabella. I know you offered to counsel her when we came back from our jump, but I don’t think she’ll call you.”

I shrugged. “It’s her choice.”

“I know. But as her study partner, I’m concerned by her behavior. She may be ejected from the course.”

Her words were crisp and unemotional, but I wondered if there was more to Student Delafield than met the eye. I assessed her appearance. She wore the regulation gray student trousers and jacket, but with a distinct flash of color at the base of her throat. That brought me to another thought.

“How did you get into this complex? You’re not wearing a visitor badge.”

More red suffused her cheeks. “I lied to the security detail. I told them I was Isabella.”

A bold move. I held onto my surprise. “Did they not challenge you?”

“Yes, but I had a note, from you, inviting her for counseling. I told them I was here to meet you for the first session.”

Intrigued, I pushed away from the door and strolled to the window behind her. She stood completely still, but her breathing quickened. So I did make her nervous after all. “You jumped back to 1941?”

“Yes.”

“And how did you find it?”

She hesitated, as though composing herself. “We both found it hard, but Isabella more so.”

“And why was this?”

Another hesitation before she spoke. “That would be betraying a confidence.”

I took a silent step right behind her, so close I could smell the shampoo she used. Floral. Not unusual for the students, but a rare fragrance in the sterile
ghardian
compound.

“So tell me, Student Delafield. You have no compunction about stealing a private note, bluffing your way into a secure installation, and then lying to the security guard about your identity.” My voice was cold. I wanted to frighten her, even as I recognized that I was being a brute. “Yet you stall at revealing a confidence? Do I need to sweeten the pot, perhaps?”

Her breath hitched, and beneath her jacket I saw the rapid rise and fall of her breasts. Leaning forward, I spoke next to her ear. “I could have you arrested in an instant. Tell me why I shouldn’t.”

Her back stiffened. “I am more than Isabella’s study partner. I’m her friend.”

“And that means?” I should have moved away, but the crass part of me was enjoying the view.

“It means she has my loyalty. She has no idea I’m here. Asking for your help.” The words tumbled from her mouth, and I drew back.

“You may leave.”

Her shoulders slumped, but instead of beating a hasty retreat, she turned her head to look at me. “Please help her.”

I was fascinated by her eyes. Bright blue at first glance, at close quarters they had a green ring around the iris. Why hadn’t she left yet?

“Why me? She has other family.”

“Apart from the fact that you offered to counsel her,” she gazed back at me, “I thought you had more experience of jumps not going to plan.”

Her words, for all that they were softly spoken, acted like ice water in my face. I jerked back. So the rumors about me had extended from the
ghardian
ranks? It was only a matter of time.

“This discussion is over. I suggest you leave before I call security.”

As she strode out, plait swinging gracefully and hips swaying, I made a mental note to request a thorough review of security procedures. If a civilian could just walk in from the street, we had some serious gaps in our procedures. Although, remembering the way she’d refused to buckle under my questioning, she might just have been an exceedingly talented individual.