A Kestrel Rising (32 page)

“Well, you make sure you get up there and see him. It’ll do him the world of good. We need him back here and he needs you. He talked about you a lot when we were flying back and I kind of used you as a stick to beat him with when I thought he was going to pass out. I told him that you’d have my nuts on a plate if I didn’t get him back in one piece.”

In spite of everything, she laughed. “No, I would never do that but, if it worked, then that’s a good thing. Thank you, Harry. Thank you for letting me know.”

“Captain’s orders, honey. He swore me to secrecy over some of the things he told me up there, but I think you can guess.”

“I can, and thanks again.”

“When you’ve seen him, will you call and let me know how he’s doing?”

“Of course I will. Goodbye, Harry.” She set the phone down and stared blankly at the mug of tea and at the sergeant.

“Is everything all right, Lowe?”

She shook her head, “No, sir. It’s my boyfriend. He’s been hurt. They’ve taken him to the Hospital near Diss.”

“Redgrave Hall, there’s a big Yank hospital there for their Air Force chaps.”

“That’s the one.” She glanced at the clock. It had just gone three in the afternoon and she wondered if she would make it by nightfall.

“I guess you want some time off.”

“If that’s all right, sir. I’d like to try and get there today, if I can. They’ll have operated on him by now. I’d like to be there.” She knew that she would be good for nothing if she had to stay on the base.

He nodded. “Drink your tea and I’ll find out about buses, then go and get yourself tidied up. Take as long as you need.”

“Thank you, sir. I really appreciate that.”

“I think we can manage without you for a day or two. You won’t be much good to anyone if you’re too busy fretting over your boyfriend.”

She sipped her tea and the sergeant picked up the phone and made some enquiries, scribbling down bus numbers and times on a piece of paper. By the time she had finished her tea, he had an itinerary all written out for her. “I’ll see if I can get the number of the place and I’ll phone and tell them you’re on your way, so they let you in. What’s your boyfriend’s name?”

“Francis,” she told him. “Captain Francis Robson. He’s with the 4th Fighter Group, 334th squadron.”

“Right. You go off and get changed and catch your bus. You’ve got time. Just get back here when you can.”

“Thanks, again, sir.” She took the piece of paper and tucked it in her pocket. “I’ll return as soon as I can.” She wanted to kiss him. Instead, she saluted and backed toward the door.

“I hope he’s going to be all right, Lowe. Good luck.”

* * * *

The sergeant had done his research well and Ilona found herself dropped off at the gates of Redgrave Hall less than two hours after she’d left the depot. She walked up to the guardhouse where a military policeman asked for her identification. When she told him her name, he smiled and said that she was expected and he would phone for a jeep to take her up the drive. She waited outside in the late afternoon sunlight, marveling at the kindness of the sergeant who, clearly, had not only informed them of her arrival, but had seen to it that she was to be taken care of. She just wanted to see Francis and would have gladly walked up the drive if that was what it took, but after a few minutes a Jeep, driven by another MP, arrived at the guardhouse. “Miss Lowe?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Hop aboard, miss. I’ll take you up to the hospital.”

She climbed into the Jeep and watched the open parkland sweep past as they headed back up the drive to a collection of Nissen huts and tents. The MP dropped her off in front of the reception and told her that someone in there would show her where to go. She thanked him and walked, shakily, into the hut. A man in army fatigues sat behind a desk and he glanced up as she walked in.

“Can I help you, miss?”

“I’m here to see Captain Francis Robson,” she said, trying to keep the tremor from her voice. “I was told he arrived here today.”

He picked up a clipboard and examined it. “Would you be Miss Lowe?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Your sergeant called and told us to expect you.” He rose. “Follow me. I’ll take you to the ward. The nurse there will tell you all you need to know.”

Ilona followed him back outside and into the cluster of huts. After a few minutes, he paused at the door of one of the huts.

“This is the one. Just ask for Second Lieutenant Jackson, she’ll take care of you.”

She gave him a grateful smile and stepped into the ward, not sure what to expect. She found a long, orderly, decently lit ward, with two rows of beds, one against each curved wall. There was a comforting air of calm about the place but she was overwhelmed by the number of patients there.

“Can I help you?” A nurse in pristine whites appeared out of nowhere, holding a metal tray with a collection of instruments on it.

“I was told to ask for Second Lieutenant Jackson.”

The nurse smiled. “That’s me, and you must be Miss Lowe.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You’ve come to see Captain Robson.”

“Yes, if that’s all right.”

“Of course it is. We don’t get many visitors here, so it’s a little unusual, but apparently, your sergeant was
most
insistent that we let you see Captain Robson.”

“How is he?”

“He just came out of surgery about an hour or two ago, so he’s still out of it. The surgeon managed to get all the junk out and clean everything up. He’s going to be a little uncomfortable for a while but, provided the wounds stay clean, he’ll be fine.” She set the tray down on a desk. “I’ll take you to him and you can sit with him. I guess he may start to come ‘round in an hour or two. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”

“Thank you.” She followed her guide along the rows of beds, just wanting to be with Francis, just wanting to see for herself that he was all right. The nurse stopped about half way along the ward. “Here we are. Just wait a minute and I’ll find you a chair.” She left and Ilona stared down at the man on the bed. It took her a moment or two to recognize him. He was still, thin and pale, and a long tube led from his arm to a bottle suspended from a pole. His face was gray and his eyes were underlined with crescents as dark as bruises. She sat on the edge of the bed and picked up one unresisting hand. It was cool to the touch and his long fingers did not react as she stroked the back of his hand with her thumb. Only the steady, almost imperceptible rise and fall of his chest gave any indication of normality at all.

The second lieutenant returned with a chair and Ilona watched her as she felt Francis’ pulse, listened to his breathing and checked the bottle.

“He’ll be fine.” She patted Ilona’s hand. “There’s water here, which he can sip if he comes round. Let me know when he wakes, and I’ll check him over. It shouldn’t be long now.”

“Thank you.”

“Your name wouldn’t be Ilke by any chance, would it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She smiled. “I thought as much, because when he first came in, he was talking in his sleep. He said your name a lot, so I’m guessing he’ll be very pleased to see you when he wakes.” She turned and walked away, leaving Ilona sitting on the chair, waiting.

The events of the day soon caught up with her and, despite the fact that she sat upright in an uncomfortable chair, she dozed off holding Francis’ hand. Her dreams were a confusion of planes and buses, women in white and rows of beds filled with sleeping men. When she awoke, the ward was a lot darker, illuminated by amber pools of light through which the nurses moved silently. She looked at Francis who still slept, but his hand was now curled around her own and the pallor of earlier had gone, replaced by the faintest flush of pink. As she watched him, his eyelids fluttered and he moaned. She waited, not daring to speak, just watching and hoping, and he finally opened his eyes. It took a moment or two for them to focus but, then, he found her and the smile made the long day, the worry and the heartache worthwhile.

“Ilke?” he whispered. “Am I dreaming?”

She squeezed his hand and smiled back, weak with relief. “No, I’m really here.”

He winced. “Where’s here?”

“The American Hospital, Redgrave Hall, don’t you remember?”

“Not a damn thing, not yet anyway.” He tried to sit up.

She eased him back. “Let me fetch a nurse before you try sitting up,” she told him, reluctant to let go of his hand. She rose and glanced around. Second Lieutenant Jackson was still on duty and Ilona caught her eye. She nodded and made her way over.

“Good evening, Captain Robson. I see you’ve finally decided to join us. How are you feeling?” She checked his pulse.

“Like I’ve been run over by a tank,” he replied, his voice weak.

“That’s to be expected. You gave the surgeon quite a bit of work to do. Do you want to sit up?”

He nodded, unable to speak because she’d put a thermometer in his mouth.

She plumped up his pillow and Ilona helped her ease him into a sitting position, earning a warm smile.

“Is that better, Captain?”

Another nod and she took the thermometer back and held it to the light.

“Your temperature is fine, which is good. I think you’ll probably survive, Captain. I’ll leave you with Miss Lowe. She’ll let me know if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” He leaned back against the pillow and squeezed Ilona’s hand once more. “How long have you been here?”

“I have no idea. I got here as soon as I could.”

“How did you know?”

“Harry phoned me.”

He closed his eyes. “Good. I won’t have to hide his records away again. Did he tell you what happened?”

“Yes.” She touched his face. “You were very lucky.”

He caught her hand and kissed it. “I know, and I did tell you how dangerous it was.”

“As long as you’re all right now.”

“I would be if it didn’t hurt so damn much. I really thought I was done for. There was blood everywhere. Harry had to keep threatening me and shouting to stop me from passing out.”

“I know, he told me.”

“If I’d been smart, I’d have put down behind our lines, but with all that fuel, it could’ve been nasty. I just wanted to get back home. I wanted to get back to you and I guess it paid off because here you are. It’s not quite the reunion I had in mind, but it’s wonderful to see you here, sweetheart.”

She wanted to crawl into bed beside him and gather him into her arms until the lines of pain on his face went away. “It’s lovely to see you too.”

“Can I kiss you, please?”

She sat on the edge of the bed. He took her face between his hands and his kiss was sweet and gentle, reminding her of Christmas Eve.

“I feel better now.” His eyes were warm. “Thank you, darling.”

“You’re welcome.” She touched his face and returned to her chair with regret.

He winced and closed his eyes, falling back against the pillow. “It bloody hurts, Ilke.”

“Shall I get a nurse?”

He shook his head. “No, it’s all right. Perhaps I should try to sleep again.”

“I think that’s a good idea.” She rose and helped him get comfortable with his pillow.

“Will you be here when I wake?” he asked, a plaintive note to his voice.

“If they let me, yes. I’ll stay.” She watched as he drifted back into sleep, seeking refuge from the pain. When she was sure that he was asleep, she went in search of fresh air. Second Lieutenant Jackson was sitting at her desk, her face illuminated by a sweep of light from the lamp.

“Is Captain Robson all right?” she asked.

“He’s sleeping again. I think he’s a bit uncomfortable.”

“That’s to be expected.” She shuffled through the files on the desk until she found the one she was looking for and opened it. “If you’ve the stomach for it, I’ll tell you exactly what the surgeon had to do.”

Ilona nodded. “I’m up to it.”

“The Captain had three wounds, caused by flak entering the cockpit,” the nurse read. “There is one on the left hip and two on his left leg, one on the thigh and one just below his knee.” She glanced up at Ilona. “I shan’t bore you with the technical language, but the surgeon removed the fragments from all three wounds and then he had to cut away the dead and damaged tissue until he reached the healthy, undamaged tissue. He stitched up the damaged nerves and now the Captain has three open wounds that have been packed with gauze so that they can drain. He’s been given penicillin, which should prevent any infection, and, while he’s here, we will change the dressings and the wounds will begin to mend. He lost a fair bit of blood, so he’s been given plasma to replace what he’s lost. Considering all that, he’s in good shape, so he should be all right, and he could be back on duty in a few weeks. In the meantime, if the pain gets too bad, we can give him something for that, but sleep is the best thing. He’s had quite a day, Miss Lowe.”

“Yes, he has.”

“And, I imagine, so have you.”

“Not as bad as his.”

“Your being here will have been a tremendous boost for him. I should think most of our patients would feel a lot better if they could see their loved ones.” She smiled. “You must be tired yourself.”

“I am. I was just going to go and get a bit of fresh air. I really hate to get in the way.”

“It’s all right, Miss Lowe. You’re lucky, because it’s been quiet today. If you want somewhere to rest your head, we can find a cot for you in the nurses’ quarters.”

“I really wouldn’t want to cause any bother.”

“It’s no bother at all. We’re down a couple of nurses now, so there’s room to spare. Anyway, it’s not every day that we have someone from the WAAF drop by for a visit. It’s kind of neat to meet someone new.” She closed the file and put it back. “Get yourself some fresh air, Miss Lowe, and we’ll sort out a cot for you.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Ilona offered a smile and went out into the cool night air. She walked slowly away from the hut, seeking somewhere empty, dark and quiet. She wandered around until she found herself on the perimeter, staring at the park of the old house, which had long since gone. The sweep of grass was dim beneath the starlight and somewhere in the woods beyond the park, she heard the reeling call of a nightjar, which reminded her of home. The old familiar cry was all she needed to hear and the tears that she had held back finally escaped in hoarse, whispering sobs. She knelt in the cool, soft grass and wept with exhaustion and relief until she was spent and tired and a chill crept into her bones. She climbed to her feet and headed back to the hut. Second Lieutenant Jackson was waiting with the news that she had a cot ready and that, if Captain Robson woke in the night needing her, someone would send for her.