The Flyer (34 page)

There was something ghoulish about Christopher’s reminiscing. Sophie’s ghost walked in the empty landscape behind his eyes.

‘They were all such good people. So full of life. Do you remember Harry Thwaites?’ He looked at Elizabeth and William in turn. ‘He was always a good chap. And Bunny Rogers.’ He turned to Margaret. ‘There were four of us who used to go about together all the time. Liz and William were sweet on one another in those days. And there was another girl, her name was Sophie.’

There was an uncomfortable pause in the atmosphere around the table, like the needle slipping on a gramophone record.

‘I remember hearing her name once,’ Henry said, frowning as he tried to recall where.

Christopher clapped him on the shoulder. ‘I’m pretty sure you never met her, Henry. It’s a shame. I should’ve introduced you to her. She was an absolutely wonderful girl. I’d never met anyone like her.’

Henry looked confused and Elizabeth felt sorry for him. Henry didn’t think it was quite the thing for his brother to be waxing on so much about another girl when he was engaged to be married. She pushed back her chair and excused herself, and Christopher looked at her guiltily.

Margaret went with her to the Ladies room. ‘Am I missing something here?’ she asked.

‘It would take too long to explain,’ Elizabeth said.

Margaret offered her a cigarette. ‘You’re in love with Captain Reynolds, aren’t you?’

‘Is it so obvious?’

‘It is to me. Does Christopher know? Is that what all that was about back there?’

‘He knows I used to be. I don’t know what he’s doing.’

When they returned to the table, Christopher was still talking about people he knew before the war, though now his mood was sombre. ‘Harry Thwaites is dead,’ he said abruptly. ‘Bought it last year on the Somme. And Bunny too. I met somebody from his regiment. Bunny was having something to eat when a shell exploded right where he was sitting. There was nothing left of him at all. Just a spray of blood and bits of flesh. Nothing bigger than your fingernail, by all accounts.’

Elizabeth put her hand on his arm. ‘Christopher, are you alright?’

He focused on her with bleary eyes. ‘Sorry, I’m ruining the party aren’t I? It’s just that it’s terrible to think they’re all gone now.’

‘I know what you mean,’ Henry agreed. ‘Several of the chaps I knew at school have been killed. I’m going to think of them every time I go up in my kite. It’ll put me in the right frame of mind when we meet those blasted Huns, and when I see one of them going down in smoke I’ll think; there goes one for poor old Kingsley or Chalmers.’ He turned to William with an earnest look. ‘I expect you can’t wait to get back into the thick of it can you, Reynolds? I say, is it true that when you pinched one of their planes you shot up their aerodrome for good measure?’

‘I was too busy trying to stay in the air to do anything like that,’ William said.

‘You had somebody with you though didn’t you? Actually it was a woman wasn’t it? That’s right. It’s coming back to me now. The chap I spoke to said he knew one of the men that found you when you landed. According to him the woman was already dead, but she’d used up half a belt of ammunition before she was hit. I must say, it makes me laugh to think of all those Huns running around getting shot up by one of their own machines.’

William didn’t say anything, but Elizabeth could see that he was affected by Henry’s tactlessness, and she was grateful when Margaret suddenly insisted Henry dance with her.

‘Sorry about Henry,’ Christopher said when they had gone. ‘He’s a bit enthusiastic I’m afraid.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ William said.

‘Liz told me that young woman saved your life. I’m sorry, old man.’

‘Thanks.’  

‘This is meant to be a happy occasion, but between me and Henry we’re managing to put a terrible damper on things. From now on there’s to be no more of this depressing talk. I promise. I tell you what, why don’t you two go and have a dance together? That’ll do the trick.’

‘I haven’t danced for a long time,’ William said.

‘It’s like riding a bicycle. You never forget. Anyway, Liz won’t mind if you step on her toes, will you?’

She smiled though her heart was thudding. ‘Don’t feel you have to, William. Anyway, I expect you have to be careful with your arm don’t you?’

‘I think I can manage. Anyway, the more I use it the quicker it’ll get back to normal, I’m told.’

She stood and they went to the dance floor. She was conscious of Christopher watching them, and at first they were stiff and a bit awkward together.

‘It feels a bit strange doesn’t it?’ William said.

‘Yes it does.’

The tune ended and they let go of one another, but almost immediately the band began to play a foxtrot.

‘We can go back to the table if you like,’ William said.

‘I’d rather stay.’

He put his arm around her and they began to dance again. ‘Does he talk about Sophie very often?’

‘No. I’m sure he thinks about her though. He loved her.’ It occurred to Elizabeth that William must be wondering if history was repeating itself; that she was in love with a man who didn’t return her feelings.

When the tune ended they went back to the table and Christopher asked her to dance with him.

‘It’s wonderful to see William again, don’t you think?’ he said when they were on the floor. ‘And for us all to be together like this.’

‘Yes, it is.’

He smiled at her. ‘Are you enjoying yourself, darling?’

‘I’m happy so long as I’m with you.’

‘Are you really?’

‘Of course. Don’t you believe me?’

‘You wouldn’t rather be with William?’

‘How can you ask such a thing?’ she said. ‘Is that why you were talking about Sophie and the four of us going out?’ She saw that she was right.

‘I’m sorry. I wanted to see how you both reacted.’

‘You mean you were testing me,’ she said angrily.

‘No, not the way you think, Liz.’

‘How am I supposed to think then?’

‘You’re angry.’

‘Yes, I’m bloody furious. How dare you do that to me?’

‘I only did it because I know you were in love with William. I don’t want you to feel you have to stay with me, that’s all.’

Her anger faded. For an instant she was tempted to tell him the truth. But what was the truth? She loved William, but in the morning Christopher was going back to the war. She had known him all her life and she loved him too. Perhaps not in the same way, but no less powerfully. ‘Surely you must know that I love you.’

Relief flooded his eyes and he gripped her hand tightly. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Of course I do. And I love you.’

‘And when this war is over we’re going to be married.’

‘Yes, yes we are.’

*****

When they arrived back at the hotel, Elizabeth got ready for bed while Christopher poured himself a whisky. After a while she got up and went to find him. He was standing beside the open window in the sitting room.

‘Come to bed,’ she said.

He finished his cigarette and let it drop to the street, watching it explode in a shower of sparks. ‘I thought you were asleep.’

She didn’t answer, only took the glass from his hand and led him away from the window. He went with her and in the bedroom undressed and got into bed. He kissed her, but then broke off.

‘I’m sorry, Liz. I don’t know what it is. Too much to drink I expect.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ she told him. ‘I just want to be here, the two of us together.’

‘I just feel… I don’t think I’m being fair to you.’

‘We have our entire lives in front of us,’ she told him. ‘Most couples are separated by the war. They only have letters to keep them going. At least we can be together. Nothing is more important than that.’

‘I suppose you’re right,’ he said.

‘Of course I am.’

He put his arm around her. ‘You are the most amazing person, Liz. One day when this is all over we’ll have a wonderful life. I can see us at Pitsford with three or four children. We’ll have picnics by the river, all of us together.’

‘Yes, of course we will.’

‘It’ll be marvellous. I do miss the place you know. I suppose one takes these things for granted most of the time, but being over here makes me appreciate it more. I often think of the woods. Do you remember what it’s like there in the spring, with the bluebells like a painting by Monet?’

‘It’s beautiful,’ she said, remembering how they’d roamed there as children before he went away to school.

‘There’s a glade somewhere in the middle, a great open space with a huge fallen tree where we used to play. We had sticks as swords. I’d be king of the castle and fight you off.’

‘You’d try,’ Elizabeth said, laughing as she remembered. ‘I’d knock you down often enough.’

‘Yes you did, didn’t you? That’s why I liked you so much, I think. You weren’t like other girls.’

‘Wasn’t I?’

‘No.’

He was quiet for a little while. And then he said, ‘I feel I can’t keep going sometimes, you know. The only thing that gets me through is thinking about you and I together when this is all behind us. I don’t think I’ll ever want to leave again, you know.’

She didn’t answer. He stroked her hair. Her eyes leaked tears and her throat was tight.

When he fell asleep she got up and went into the other room. She sat by the window staring outside. When she heard him cry out, an hour had passed. He was dreaming, the bedclothes were twisted tightly around him and his arms were flailing as he mumbled incoherently. She sat beside him and stroked his brow.

‘Shhh, it’s alright, Christopher. I’m here.’

He was hot, bathed in sweat. The sound of her voice began to calm him. She talked to him about Pitsford, describing every room as she remembered them. She made it sound as if they were there together, walking through the house, hand in hand, ready to begin their lives together again. It was late afternoon, perhaps in the autumn, and the fires were lit, the flames reflected on the polished glass and silver. Eventually he slept peacefully.

CHAPTER 32

‘Whisky?’ Colonel Faversham asked.

‘Yes, thank you, sir.’

Faversham poured two glasses and gave one to Jarvis. They lit cigarettes and sat on opposite sides of the fireplace. The house was near St Omer. It belonged to a factory owner from Paris who had grown up in the area, though for now the army had requisitioned its use for the Flying Corps.

Beyond the large windows at the end of the room, the grounds shone wetly beneath an overcast sky, though the cloud had begun to break, parting like muddy scum revealing depths of blue.

‘He actually killed them?’ Faversham said, referring to Albert and Edith Lisle.

‘Yes, it rather shocked me too,’ Jarvis confessed. ‘Though in fairness I gather he didn’t really have a choice.’

‘No, I suppose in the circumstances he didn’t,’ Faversham agreed, though his tone was heavy with reservation. ‘Nevertheless, no matter how you dress it up, shooting dead a couple of pensioners hardly lends his escape quite the note we’re after, does it? And one of them a woman too.’

‘Quite.’

‘It’s a pity though.’

‘We could still use him of course.’

‘I don’t see how.’

‘He hasn’t told anybody about any of this, and I told him not to, for the time being. It would simply be a matter of editing his account of events somewhat. I was thinking that perhaps if Reynolds didn’t mention the Lisles at all, it would simplify things.’

Faversham sipped his whisky, which was a rather decent single malt. ‘What about the woman? What was her name did you say?’

‘Helene.’

‘Yes, that’s it. We have to account for her somehow or other.’

‘He could simply say that she hid him until they escaped, which is true after all.’

Faversham considered the suggestion. ‘Was there something going on between them do you think?’

‘I wondered that myself actually. I get the feeling that there may have been, yes.’

‘That puts rather a different complexion on matters don’t you think? After all, we’ve only got Reynolds’ account of what actually happened. If he was mucking about with somebody’s wife, who’s to say what really went on.’

‘Yes, I see what you mean, sir. I must admit the same thing occurred to me. Though to be fair, he needn’t have told me anything about the Lisles. If there was more to it than he’s letting on, you’d expect him to keep quiet about the whole thing.’

Faversham considered this argument. ‘What we must consider, Jarvis, is the benefit versus the risk. Before we send Reynolds back to England to drum up some favourable publicity, we have to weigh the positive effect on recruitment, against the negative effect if some unpleasant truth were to get out.’

‘Unless it was to come from Reynolds himself, I don’t see how that might happen, sir,’ Jarvis countered. ‘The others involved are all dead.’

‘I agree. Then our decision rests on whether or not Reynolds is the sort of chap we can rely on. What do we know about him?’

‘He seems steady enough. Perhaps a bit shaken up from his experiences, but that’s to be expected. I’m sure it will pass. He was at Oundle, I believe.’

‘Well, that’s something. Not a first rate school, of course, but quite acceptable. What about his family?’

‘I’m afraid we don’t know. Reynolds is rather vague concerning them. His parents are both dead.’

‘Siblings?’

‘None, sir.’

‘Who was his last CO?’

Jarvis consulted his file. ‘Thompson. Number twenty-eight squadron.’

‘Go and speak to him, Jarvis. See what he has to say.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Faversham emptied his glass and looked at his watch. ‘I think I’ll get Smith to saddle my horse. Work up an appetite before dinner. I believe we’re having game pie this evening. I’m very partial to a decent game pie. Would you care to join me, Jarvis?’

‘Thank you, sir. I’d like that very much.’

‘Excellent. Come along then, we’ll get somebody to find you a horse.’

*****

It was midday when Jarvis arrived at twenty-eight squadron. The adjutant showed him to the CO’s office.

‘I hope you don’t mind me dropping in like this.’

‘Not at all,’ Major Thompson assured him. ‘Would you like to stay for lunch?’

‘That’s very kind of you. Perhaps we could talk first?’

‘Yes, of course. Cigarette?’

‘Thank you.’ Jarvis took a cigarette from the offered box and accepted a light. ‘I want to ask you about a chap who was under your command. Lieutenant Reynolds as he was then, though it’s Captain Reynolds now. MC.’

‘Ah yes. I’ve heard all about his exploits, of course. I suppose you have to admire the cheek of a fellow who steals one of the Hun’s machines from under their noses.’

‘Yes, well that’s exactly the point, you see. It’s the sort of thing that we feel it might be to our advantage to make the most of. Play the whole thing up in the newspapers and so on. It might help us to persuade a few more men to volunteer for the Flying Corps.’

Thompson nodded. ‘Yes, I can understand what you mean.’

‘We’re considering sending Reynolds on a sort of speaking tour of England. Civic receptions, that sort of thing.’

‘I see.’

‘That’s why I’m here really. I’d like your opinion of the fellow.’

Thompson leaned forward and tapped his cigarette on the edge of an ashtray. ‘Is this an official enquiry, may I ask?’

‘No, not at all,’ Jarvis assured him. ‘Simply a chat, off the record, so to speak. I want you to feel you can speak freely.’

‘It’s just that I wouldn’t want to blemish a chap’s record in any way.’

‘Of course. Perhaps I should tell you that we have certain reservations about Reynolds. Nothing to do with his actions, you understand. It’s simply that we must be careful to make certain he’s suited for what we have in mind. We don’t want him saying the wrong sorts of things to the newspapers.’

‘No, I can see that. Well, in that case if I were to be perfectly frank with you, I’d have to say that I think your concerns would be justified.’

‘Really?’

‘He was never very popular here amongst the other chaps. Kept very much to himself. Bit of an odd fish actually. Wouldn’t let the men service his machine and so on. Insisted on doing everything himself. He rather gave the impression that he imagined he was a cut above everybody else. Damned opinionated with it too.’

‘Opinionated? In what sense?’ wondered Jarvis.

‘He was prone to criticising his superiors. Not only me, but the General Staff. Didn’t agree with the way the war was being pursued. Quite frankly, Reynolds didn’t know his place.’

Jarvis wasn’t surprised by Thompson’s remarks. His own initial impressions of Reynolds had always been that Reynolds might be more of a hindrance to their aims, than a help. He thanked Thompson for expressing his views openly.

‘Not at all. Now, how about that lunch before you leave? The patrols ought to be back about now. You might like to speak to some of the men.’

‘Yes, I’d like that. How are things in this sector at the moment by the way?’

‘Oh, I think we’re managing alright. Naturally, I’d like to have some more experienced pilots, but I should think everybody’s in the same boat.’

‘I’m afraid so.’

‘Mind you, I haven’t enough planes for the pilots I’ve got at the moment. Is there any chance we might get some of the new machines?’

‘The SE5s? Unlikely I’m afraid. They’re all being sent to the new fighter squadrons as quickly as we can make them.’

‘It’s just that my chaps are having to fly without an escort, you see.’

‘Yes, I sympathise, but I shouldn’t worry too much, once we’ve got enough of the new machines, I think you’ll find the enemy won’t have things all their own way. I’ll mention your concerns, though,’ Jarvis assured him.

‘Would you? I’d appreciate it. Not that I’d want anyone to think I’m complaining, you understand. I realise we must all do the best we can.’

‘Naturally.’

‘Now, here we are.’ Thompson held open the door to the officer’s mess. ‘I believe we’re having beef today. Can I offer you a drink, Jarvis?’

‘Thank you. I’ll have a whisky if you don’t mind.’

‘I’m afraid we’ve only got Bells, will that be alright?’

‘Absolutely. Though I might have a dash of soda with it in that case.’