A Flight of Golden Wings (20 page)

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Authors: Beryl Matthews

BOOK: A Flight of Golden Wings
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Simon was dealing with some paperwork when Lucy walked in. As soon as he saw her strained expression he was instantly on his feet. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘I can’t find Dave.’ Her lips trembled.

‘Sit down, Lucy.’ Simon urged her into a chair and crouched in front of her. ‘Tell me about it.’

She gripped his hands tightly. ‘I was supposed to meet him last night at a pub in Maidenhead. It’s where we always go when he can get away for a few hours. I waited all evening and he didn’t come. Jane let me phone Biggin Hill today, but they were very cagey and wouldn’t tell me anything.’

‘You know they won’t give out details about personnel over the phone,’ Simon pointed out gently. He was sure she had got herself worked up for nothing. These pilots could be called upon at a moment’s notice, not giving them a chance to contact anyone.

She looked at him in anguish. ‘Then why did they tell me to contact his parents?’

That shook Simon. ‘Are you sure they didn’t mean he was on leave?’

‘He’d have told me if he was going home.’ She became agitated. ‘Something’s wrong. Can you find out for me? Please, Simon!’

‘I know the station commander at Biggin Hill. I’ll see if I can reach him, but I’m sure you’re worrying unnecessarily.’

‘I hope so,’ she whispered. ‘I’ll wait here.’

He stood up. ‘I expect Dave got caught for an unexpected trip across the Channel and wasn’t able to let you know.’

‘That’s what I thought at first, but it doesn’t feel right. When I asked about Dave there was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone before the man spoke again. He was very evasive. Something’s happened and I don’t think his folks would be too pleased if I contacted them. I wouldn’t want to upset them if I’m imagining this.’ Lucy took a deep breath. ‘But I don’t think I am. I’m worried and need to know if he’s all right.’

The stricken look in her eyes tore Simon apart, and he hurried to the ops room for the telephone. The invasion had been under way for a few weeks now and the troops were making their way into France. There was an air of hope around that it would all be over by the end of the year. Lucy had been so buoyant and happy just lately, but if anything had happened to Dave, she was going to be devastated.

Simon had met the station commander on several occasions and hoped he would talk to him. When the phone
was answered he asked for Commander Young, gave his own name, and waited.

‘Hello, Simon. What can I do for you?’

‘I’ve got a favour to ask, Ian.’

‘Fire away.’

‘Can you tell me if Dave Sullivan is all right?’

Ian hesitated. ‘What’s your interest?’

‘I’m a friend of Lucy Nelson. She’s his girlfriend, and is worried.’ When he was greeted with silence, Simon continued, ‘They’ve been dating for some time, Ian, and are serious about each other. If something has happened she ought to be told.’ He now had a very nasty feeling about this. Lucy was right: they were being evasive.

‘She phoned earlier, but we couldn’t tell her anything until the next of kin had been informed.’

A cold chill crept through Simon. ‘He’s dead?’

‘Yes, he was killed yesterday when his plane crashed in France. I’m sorry, Simon, I thought his parents would have contacted her.’

‘They haven’t, but I’ll break the news to her.’ He’d had to face many distressing times in this war, but this was going to be one of the hardest.

When he returned to where he’d left her, Lucy searched his face, pleading with her eyes for good news. But she knew at once that there wasn’t going to be any.

Simon sat beside her and placed an arm around her shoulders. ‘Dave’s plane crashed yesterday in France. I’m so sorry, Lucy, he was killed.’

She let out a stifled moan and began to shake. Simon
drew her into his arms, not knowing how to comfort her as she sobbed in grief.

They had been like that for some minutes when Ruth walked in. ‘Oh, God, what’s happened?’ she asked, rushing over to them.

‘Dave’s been killed.’ Simon spoke softly.

‘Hell!’ Ruth swore with feeling. ‘I’m so sorry. Lucy, let me take you home.’

Still holding tightly on to Simon, she nodded. ‘Simon comes too.’

‘If that’s what you want.’ He helped her to her feet. Her expression was grim, but he was relieved to see that she was more in control. And he was also grateful to have Ruth take over.

Ruth supported her on the other side and they walked with her to Simon’s car. ‘Do you know where Jack is?’ she asked him.

‘He’s taken a Spit over to France. I’m not sure if he’ll be back tonight.’

Once at the house, Ruth made Lucy eat a piece of toast and drink two cups of tea, then, seeing how exhausted she was, helped her to bed.

‘How is she?’ Simon wanted to know when Ruth came downstairs again.

‘Asleep already.’ She sat down opposite him. ‘Tell me what happened.’

He then told her the little he knew, not being able to hide his annoyance. ‘Dave’s family should have sent her a message. They know she’s in the ATA, and a call to any ferry pool would have been forwarded to her. But perhaps
they’re too distraught to have given his girlfriend a thought. I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt.’

‘I expect that’s it.’ Ruth gave Simon a sympathetic look. ‘So the unpleasant task was left to you.’

He grimaced. ‘God, Ruth, I hated doing that. It hurts to see her so upset.’

‘She’ll be all right when she gets over the initial shock,’ she assured him. ‘She’s resilient and, like her brother, made of strong stuff.’

He stood up, feeling drained. ‘Take care of her, Ruth. I must get some sleep if I’m going to function properly tomorrow.’

‘I will, and don’t you worry.’ She watched him leave, then went back indoors. It was doubtful if she was going to get much rest tonight, but she had to try because she was flying again in the morning.

 

Ruth was surprised to find Lucy in the kitchen the next morning, and in uniform. ‘No one will mind if you don’t come in today, Lucy.’

‘No, but I would mind.’ She spoke firmly. ‘We have a job to do, Ruth, and I’ve seen you all carry on when tragedy strikes. Not one of you has ever let your personal feelings get in the way of what has to be done, and I’m not going to either.’ She gave a sad smile. ‘It hurts like mad, but he’s gone, and no amount of wishing is going to change that. I’ll come to terms with the loss in time, just like everyone else has to. In the meantime, I want to fly and be with my friends. When I’m in the air all I have on my mind is flying. It will help me through this.’

Ruth didn’t try to persuade her otherwise because that was exactly how she would feel and act. ‘I learnt to fly after my brother was killed in a racing car accident. Being in the air was like balm to my soul.’

‘Exactly.’ Lucy spread margarine on the toast. ‘We’re very lucky to be able to fly, aren’t we?’

‘Very.’

‘I’ve written a letter to Dave’s folks. It was the least I could do.’

‘That’s thoughtful of you, and I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.’

‘I hope so, because I want to go to the funeral and say my goodbyes properly.’

After finishing their breakfast they made their way to the airfield, ready for another day. The only thing allowed to interrupt their routine was the weather.

Jack returned that evening to the sad news, and although Lucy cried on his shoulder as she told him, it was Simon she turned to continually for support and encouragement.

 

Two days later, Lucy received a note from Dave’s father, thanking her for her letter and giving details of the funeral to be held in ten days’ time. It was to be a military funeral in his hometown of Windsor.

Jack, Simon and Ruth had all known Dave, so they went with Lucy, not wanting her to face this ordeal alone. They made sure they were all smartly dressed in their ATA uniforms. Lucy stayed close to Jack and Simon during the service, and Ruth watched her anxiously, but she stood with her head up, straight and controlled. When the coffin was lowered into the ground, silent tears ran down her cheeks.

Dave’s mother was so distraught she couldn’t stand on her own and had to be helped to the car.

When Lucy made a move to go and speak to her, Jack shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t, Lucy. The poor woman isn’t in any state to meet people. I’d say she’s been sedated and probably wouldn’t recognise anyone at the moment.’

His sister nodded, and the four of them stayed where they were as the mourners drifted away.

A man walked towards them as if every step was an effort. ‘Thank you all for coming. Your letter was much appreciated, Lucy. My wife would have thanked you herself but, as you can see, she’s too grief stricken to do anything at the moment.’

‘I understand, Mr Sullivan. Dave was a lovely man and a brave one. His loss is a terrible tragedy.’ Lucy’s voice was husky with distress as she introduced Dave’s father.

He shook hands with each of them, thanking them for coming, and inviting them back to the house.

‘That’s kind of you, sir,’ Jack spoke first, ‘but I’m afraid we have to get back.’

‘Yes, of course. Dave was always singing the praises of the ATA. He said that without you the RAF would have had a job to keep flying. We never wanted him to fly, you know, but it was what he wanted to do.’ He gave a strained smile. ‘I suspect that you are all like that as well.’

‘Yes, sir, our mom didn’t want us to fly either, but no one could have stopped us.’

Mr Sullivan nodded, and then studied Lucy sadly. ‘You made our son very happy, and I’m sorry we didn’t welcome you as we should have done.’

Without saying a word, Lucy gripped one of his hands in both of hers, and then stepped back. It was an action of silent forgiveness, and understood as such by Dave’s father.

They watched while he walked back to the waiting car and drove away.

Jack placed an arm round his sister’s shoulder and gave her a squeeze. ‘Let’s get back. We’ve got planes to fly.’

 

Later that day, as Jack made pickups in the taxi, his thoughts went back to the funeral. He had been proud of Lucy. She had acted with dignity, and he was glad Mr Sullivan had come over to talk with them. It had given his sister a chance to put her first unfortunate meeting with Dave’s folks behind her. Lucy had a generous nature and forgave easily. He’d felt so sorry for the Sullivans. It must be unbelievably hard to lose a child, as he had noticed with Ruth’s folks. He doubted that they would ever fully get over the loss of their son. It could be a cruel world at times.

Lucy now had her own battle to deal with in trying to come to terms with Dave’s death. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy for her, but they were all here for her. She wouldn’t lack love and support.

Lucy threw herself into her work as she tried to deal with the loss of Dave. Ruth’s admiration grew for the lovely American girl who had become a treasured friend. Jack and Simon were also there to support when needed. It was only five weeks since the tragedy and it was clear that Lucy was making a huge effort to move on with her life, and Ruth knew just how difficult that was. It had taken her a long time after her brother’s death. Flying had been her way to healing, and Lucy was finding it the same. She flew constantly, only taking a day off when she was ordered to do so. But no one worried about her flying, for she was far too good a pilot to take unnecessary chances. Like all of them, if the conditions were bad she wouldn’t take off.

Making her approach to Little Rissington, Ruth set the plane down and taxied to the parking area. As she jumped out it was obvious that the men were all talking animatedly. Wondering what was going on, she went straight to check
in. There was an air of excitement around the place.

‘What’s happened?’ she asked, as she handed over the delivery chit.

‘Haven’t you heard? Paris has been liberated!’

‘That’s wonderful!’ She glanced at the date of the ferry chit – 25th August. This was a day that would go down in history. It was a milestone in the war.

‘Berlin next,’ the officer said.

Ruth couldn’t wait to get back to White Waltham. They’d all go out and celebrate tonight. ‘Have you got something else for me?’

‘There’s a Dakota for Luton. Can you take that? We’ve got a flight engineer who needs to get to Luton, and he can come with you.’

She nodded. It always amused her that the plane was named after the state Lucy and Jack came from. ‘I need to phone my ferry pool and let them know where I’m going and see if a taxi can pick me up from Luton.’

Arrangements were soon made and Ruth was once again in the air, singing quietly to herself. Things were going well, and she hoped Jack was back from his jaunt across the Channel. He’d been there overnight and was expected back sometime today.

As it happened, she was able to pick up an Oxford from Luton and didn’t need the taxi. It was late in the afternoon before she arrived back at her ferry pool.

When she walked into the Mess it was as if a dark cloud was filling the place. The atmosphere was completely different. No one was celebrating the liberation of Paris. Lucy was as white as a sheet and everyone else seemed stunned.

‘What’s happened?’ Ruth asked, the words barely audible.

Simon left Lucy’s side and came to her. He didn’t mess about, but told her the news straight away. ‘Jack’s missing, Ruth. The Spitfire he was delivering never arrived. The weather turned nasty evidently and he might have landed at another field. We’re waiting to hear.’

She felt as if someone had hit her very hard and rocked her back on her heels. She gathered her senses together as best she could. ‘But you’d have heard from him if he had.’

‘Yes.’ Simon’s expression was grim. ‘Let’s hope he didn’t come down in the sea.’

‘Oh, God!’ The room began to sway.

Simon stood in front of her, shielding her from the rest of the room. ‘Breathe deeply,’ he murmured.

As she did this she steadied again. Touching his arm to indicate her thanks for his understanding, she straightened up and walked towards Lucy. There was no need to give up hope so soon, and this double blow was going to tear Lucy apart. Ruth sat beside her, taking hold of her hand. She was shaking badly from the shock. ‘They’ll find him,’ was all she could think of to say.

When Lucy looked up she was dry-eyed with terror. ‘Not Jack as well,’ she moaned. ‘That’s too much, Ruth. Too much. How am I going to tell Mom?’

‘I wouldn’t say anything just yet. Wait until we have some definite news.’ Ruth steeled herself to offer comfort, but all she wanted to do was find a place on her own and curl into a tight ball until the pain disappeared. The man she adored might never come back. All she’d have left were blissful memories of his lazy smile and spending nights in his
arms. She had always known that after the war he would return to America, but she didn’t want to lose him like this.
Please God
, she pleaded silently,
not like this.

Her whole being rebelled at the direction her thoughts were taking. He wasn’t dead! She wouldn’t accept that. Many things could have happened, and he would probably turn up tomorrow, quite unaware of the distress he had caused. She clenched her teeth together in an effort to gain control. The last thing she must do is fall apart. Lucy needed her to be strong and positive.

‘My car’s outside.’ Simon was bending down in front of them. ‘I’ll take you home.’

 

The next day Ruth and Lucy were back at work, needing to be kept busy. They were anxious for news, but at the same time afraid that when it came it would be what they didn’t want to hear.

Lucy had said very little, but Ruth knew neither of them had slept. She had listened to the muffled crying from the other bedroom and hadn’t been able to stop her own silent tears from soaking the pillow. When dawn had finally arrived, Ruth had wanted nothing more than to stay where she was. Fear swamped her, but she could hear Jack saying, ‘Come on, honey, there are planes to fly.’

Simon was already at the airfield when they arrived. Without them saying a word, he just shook his head to let them know that there wasn’t any news yet.

One day stretched into another, and the longer they went without news, the more chance there was that Jack was lost to them for ever.

‘Four days,’ Lucy said, when they returned home after another long day. ‘I haven’t told Mom yet, but I can’t leave it much longer, Ruth. I asked the ATA to let me tell her. I can’t bear the thought of her just receiving an official letter saying he’s missing. They have given me the letter, but I haven’t had the courage to send it. The news should come from me.’ The tears began to trickle down her cheeks. ‘This is going to break her heart.’

‘Would you like me to write to her as well?’ Lucy was right; they had delayed too long. Jack’s mother had a right to know.

‘He’s dead, isn’t he, Ruth?’ The words came out in a sob.

‘We don’t know that.’

Lucy lifted her tear-stained face, her mouth set in a straight line. ‘Yes, we do. I’ll try and write that letter to Mom, and I’m sure it would be a comfort to hear from you as well.’

‘All right, but we might receive news soon. He can’t have disappeared. Someone must know something. Give it one more day, Lucy.’ Ruth knew that sounded silly. Many people had just disappeared in this war, but she was clutching at any thin sliver of hope.

 

The next morning, they were collecting their ferry chits when Simon caught them. ‘Lucy, there are a couple of American pilots who have ferried bombers across. They’re going back today and have said they’ll take you.’ He tipped his head to one side enquiringly. ‘Would you like to see your mother? They’ll bring you back in two days’ time.’

‘Oh, that would be a blessing. I’ve tried many times to
write to Mom, but I just haven’t been able to put it into words. It seems so impersonal.’

‘It’ll be better if you can see her, won’t it?’

She nodded, her bottom lip trembling as she hugged him. ‘Thank you, Simon. I don’t know what I’d do without you.’

‘You’d manage,’ he said as he removed the ferry chit from her hands. ‘I’ve fixed it for you to have some time off and I’ll do your deliveries today. Now, you’d better hurry. They’re leaving in fifteen minutes.’

Lucy turned to Ruth and clasped her hands. ‘I’ll be back.’

‘Give your mother my love, won’t you, and tell her I’ll be writing soon.’

‘Sure will.’

Simon and Ruth watched her run out to the waiting plane, climb in, and it immediately taxied for take-off. Lucy was on her way home to America.

 

‘Hi, Mom.’

Bet spun around at the sound of her daughter’s voice. She had the wireless playing Glenn Miller and hadn’t heard her arrive. She stared for a moment, too stunned to move or speak as she took in the sight of Lucy standing in the kitchen. She was wearing her ATA uniform, and Bet felt as if her heart would burst with pride. She’d raised a couple of fine children.

‘Lucy!’ she squealed and threw herself at her daughter, hugging with all her might. The questions poured out. ‘Where did you come from? Where’s Jack, is he with you? Are you home for good?’

‘I’m only here for two days … and Jack isn’t with me.’

It was only then Bet realised that something was terribly wrong and her joy turned to sickening dread. She gripped Lucy’s arms fiercely. ‘Tell me.’

‘He was delivering a plane to France, but he never arrived. They haven’t found him, Mom. He’s officially listed as missing.’ Lucy’s eyes misted with tears.

‘Missing?’ Bet had been steeling herself to hear that her darling son was dead, but the word missing ignited a spark of hope. ‘Then he could still be alive.’

Lucy shook her head miserably. ‘It’s been five days, Mom. If he’d been alive they would have found him by now.’

‘No! I can’t accept that. If my boy had died I would have known.’ She wanted to yell and know why the hell she hadn’t been told about this at once, but when she saw the tears rolling down Lucy’s face, she hugged her again, her own tears mingling with those of her daughter. ‘Ah, sweetie, you’ve had a terrible time, haven’t you, what with losing Dave, and now this. But don’t give up hope. Jack will turn up alive and well, you’ll see. You’re tired out. Stay home and have a nice rest.’

‘I have to go back the day after tomorrow. Simon’s managed to get me a lift in a bomber being ferried to England.’

Bet nodded, desperately needing Lucy to stay, but she understood her need to get back. For that is where Jack would go. ‘I wish I could come with you.’

‘Once this war’s over you must come and meet everyone, Mom. Ruth’s folks have been so kind to us.’ Lucy wiped a hand over her eyes, tired beyond belief. ‘They lost their son in an accident just before the war, and they loved Jack as their own.’

‘Don’t talk in the past tense!’ Bet spoke sharply, and immediately regretted it. This dear child of hers had been through so much, and it showed. There were dark circles under her eyes, showing both grief and weariness.

‘I’m sorry.’ Lucy bowed her head.

‘You’re worn out. Why don’t you try and get some sleep? Your room is just as you left it.’

Lucy stood up and began to walk towards the stairs.

‘Lucy, I won’t believe that Jack is dead unless I see a body. And neither should you. I gave birth to the two of you –’ Bet placed a hand over her heart ‘– and if anything happened to either of you, I’d know it. I don’t know what has happened over there in France, or wherever Jack might be, but he’ll be coming back alive.’

‘I hope you’re right, Mom. I must sleep. I might be able to see things clearer then.’

Bet watched her daughter climb the stairs as if every step was an effort, then she picked up the framed photo of her son. ‘Be safe somewhere,’ she whispered.

 

Ruth leant on the table, relieved that the bar was quiet this early in the evening. ‘That was kind of you to get Lucy a lift home, Simon. But do you think she’ll come back?’

‘I’m sure she will. This is where Jack belongs, and she knows it. If he’s out there somewhere then he’ll make his way back to White Waltham, even if he has to crawl the whole way.’

‘What do you think the chances are that he’s survived?’ Simon sounded as if he believed Jack was still alive, and Ruth prayed that he was right.

‘Very slim, but as long as he didn’t come down in the Channel there’s always a chance.’

She nodded. But if he came down on land then he might be out there injured and in need of help. The thought that he might be somewhere alone and in pain frightened Ruth. Then something Simon had said penetrated her weary mind. ‘What do you mean, this is where Jack belongs?’

‘Just that, Ruth. Jack loves this country and I believe he now considers England as his home. If he survives this then he will probably go back to America for a while when the war’s over, but he’ll be back because this is where he wants to be.’

‘He’s never said that to me.’

‘He hasn’t said anything to me either, but I’m sure that’s how he feels.’ He gave Ruth a tired smile. ‘You know Jack never talks about his inner feelings, but he thinks things through very carefully before talking about or acting on any decision. But you already know that, don’t you?’

‘It’s really hard to know what’s going on inside his head.’ Ruth fought back the tears, determined not to let them spill over again. ‘He’s got to come back, Simon. There’s going to be a great hole in many lives if he doesn’t.’

‘I know. He arrived in this country at the beginning of the war, and over the years he has gained respect from all the people he’s dealt with.’

‘And love,’ Ruth added.

Simon covered her hand with his. ‘Respect and love,’ he repeated. ‘Have you told your parents yet?’

‘Yes, I nipped home last night. They’re both dreadfully upset and are praying for his safe return.’

‘It’s obvious that he ran into trouble and has come down somewhere. He’s a strong man, Ruth, and if he survived the crash then he’ll get back somehow.’ Simon picked up their empty glasses. ‘I’ll get us another drink.’

While he was away, Ruth thought over what Simon had said about Jack. They had become firm friends, and Jack may well have talked more freely to Simon than he had to her. But was Simon right when he said that Jack would want to stay in England when the war was over? She knew he loved it here, but did he love it enough to settle here permanently? Could he leave his own home, leave his mother and sister, for Lucy was sure to return home as soon as she could now? Brother and sister had always been close and, in her view, it was unlikely they would live so far apart now. She clenched her hands into tight fists. If he didn’t come back then these were questions she would never have answered.

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