Full Circle (10 page)

With that Madame Ruby got up and Rebecca followed her outside. She sat in the ante-room pondering everything she said while Emma was inside with the fortune teller.

“So, what did she tell you?” asked Becky as they stepped outside into the September afternoon.

“She said that despite my volatile romantic history I will meet someone soon who will be a good match for me. She says that he will be everything I am not looking for and everything I need and she sees me procreating within the next year. Like that’s likely to happen! I guess we’ll see, won’t we? What about you?”

“She told me that Sergei is not for me and that I am “remembering” my past life. She sort of suggested that I should look into it.” Rebecca was not ready to share everything Ruby said with Emma. She needed time to think it over and see how she felt about these revelations. The statement about Sergei caught her off guard. They had been seeing each other almost every night for the past two weeks and she was starting to hope their relationship would continue to evolve.

“What do you want to do now? We have lots of time till we have to meet Rachel.” Rebecca wanted to distract Emma from their visit to the psychic.

“Well, let’s go to some boutiques in Soho. I can use some new jewelry.”

“Ok, let’s go. I’ve been looking for a pair of silver hoops. I know exactly what I want; I just have to find it.” With that they walked off towards Soho.

“I am sorry, Lily. It’s not Nick, it’s Ian,” said the young man apologetically. Lily fell back on the pillow engulfed in her grief once more. Of course he wasn’t Nick. He bore a striking resemblance to his brother, but on closer inspection you could see that he wasn’t Nick at all. He was of similar height and build, but his hair was darker, the cheekbones more pronounced and his eyes a deeper shade of green. He also looked more youthful, being three years younger than his older brother.

“What are you doing here?” asked Lily.

Aunt Gwen came back into the room bearing a tray with a bowl of soup, some bread and aspirin.

“I am glad to see you awake, dear. We came to see you after we heard about Nicky. His commanding officer had rung me this morning. He tried ringing you too, but got no answer. Wanted to make sure you were all right. The door was unlocked and we found you burning up. Poor dear, I’ll stay with you for a few days until you recover. And I see you’ve met Ian,” prattled on Aunt Gwen. Lily was grateful that they had come. She had no strength to get up to even get a glass of water, so she needed all the help she could get. She took the aspirin and then tried to eat some soup. It had no meat in it, but still tasted pretty decent and she hadn’t eaten since Sunday night.

“Are you on leave, Ian?” she asked through a mouthful of bread.

“Actually, I have been transferred back to London for a bit. My knee was shattered when the ship was torpedoed and I spent several weeks convalescing in Yorkshire. Now they are giving me a nice, safe desk job until I am fit for action once more.”

Now that he mentioned it, Lily noticed the cane in his right hand.

“Ian, why don’t you go back home and tell your Uncle that I will be staying with Lily for a few days. There is a good lad. I’ll telephone him tomorrow,” said Aunt Gwen dismissively.

“Right. It was nice to finally meet you, Lily. I hope you feel better soon. Bye.” With that he left.

Lily gave back the soup bowl and lay back on the pillows feeling slightly better. The aspirin was doing its’ work and her temperature seemed to be down. It felt good to have something warm in her belly, but what she really wanted was a nice stiff drink.

“I thought I was pregnant, but I was wrong,” Lily blurted out and burst into tears.

“I am so sorry dear. There is time yet”.

Lily looked at her with surprise. What was she talking about? Nick was missing, presumed dead. When would they have time? Whatever time they had seemed to be up. Gwen gave her a kindly look. She seemed to be reading her thoughts.

“Lily, I’ve lived through the Great War. It doesn’t seem like much comparing to this one, but everyone thought it was the war to end all wars. We got many telegrams saying soldiers were missing. Some of them really were, and some of them weren’t. Some of them actually turned up after a while. I refuse to believe that my nephew is dead. He is out there somewhere trying to find his way back and you have to believe that. Don’t give up on him yet. He is a persistent bugger, that one.”

Lily gave her a weak smile. Gwen was right. There was no body. They weren’t sure. There was hope. With that thought she fell back asleep and slept more peacefully this time. When she awoke Aunt Gwen was still sitting by the window with a book in her lap and her half-moon glasses perched on her nose as she snored softly. She was a comforting presence and Lily was grateful not to be alone.

“Thank you for staying with me, Aunt Gwen.” Lily said when Gwen woke up.

“Not at all, dear, not at all. Fancy a cup of tea, do you?”

“Yes, I think I do.”

Ch
apter 17

Nick’s eyelids began to flutter as he finally regained consciousness. His mouth and nose were full of dirt severely limiting his intake of air and his field of vision was limited to a few feet all of which consisted of rich, dark soil. He tried to shift his position, but the agony even the slightest movement induced caused him to reconsider. Everything below his breastbone felt as if someone had beaten him with a lead pipe. He tried to experimentally move his legs. A flash of white, hot pain nearly rendered him senseless, leaving him gasping and moaning. All in all things didn’t look good.

Memories of the crash began to swim to the surface of his pain addled brain. They had left the airbase last night, at least he thought it was last night, on a reconnaissance mission to take photos of Wurzburg D land based gun radar systems used by the Luftwaffe. It was believed that a large number of them were operational in Germany and Nazi occupied France. Roger Field flew the airplane, while Nick was in charge of the new, improved F.24 camera with an 8 inch lens. A map marked with possible locations of the radars was in his lap.

The night was clear and cold with a multitude of stars sprinkling the moonless heavens. This was their third mission this week and some useful photos had already been forwarded on to headquarters earlier in the week. This time they planned to fly deeper into Germany hoping to capture images of locations not yet documented by British Intelligence. The Channel crossing was uneventful and Nick looked down over the port of Le Havre as they flew over it in the darkness. He saw the outline of numerous vessels of all shapes and sizes in the harbor and the lights of the town. Roger was humming a tune to himself while navigating the craft Eastward towards Germany. The night got much darker as they left the port city behind and flew over the darkened countryside. They could see the occasional light of a farmhouse or automobile, but otherwise the darkness was complete.

The Messerschmitt opened fire before they even realized it was behind them. Nick made for the gun while Roger tried to maneuver the craft to avoid enemy fire. They dipped and rose again, but the gunfire kept coming, ripping into the fuselage and finally hitting the 29 gallon fuel tank behind Roger. Nick remembered a ball of flame as the Spitfire plummeted towards the dark earth leaving a trail of fire and smoke behind it like the breath of a fire-breathing dragon. Then everything went dark.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been out, but unless he got out of the open and hid in the woods it wouldn’t be long before he was discovered. He spit the dirt out of his mouth, took a deep breath and tried to crawl. The pain was excruciating and he got a few feet closer to the copse of trees before hearing voices coming closer through the misty sunrise. He couldn’t see the man’s face, but he knew he was speaking French as his fingers searched for a pulse in Nick’s neck.

“He is alive,” he called out to his companions and two more people approached. A bearded face leaned closer to Nick as the man squatted down next to him. “You will be all right,” he said in heavily accented English. “Don’t move.” Nick saw a young lad racing off as the two men tried to turn him over and examine his wounds.

“I am sorry, son, your friend did not stand a chance. We need to get you out of here before the Germans come. They will search the countryside, but we have to make them believe he was alone.”

The boy came running back a few minutes later carrying something under his arm and whispering in urgent French. One of the men, presumably his father, ordered him to be quiet and gave him some kind of instructions. Nick fervently wished that he had paid better attention in Madame Duris’ French class. The two men unrolled a blanket and gently lifted Nick onto it like a stretcher. He was deeply grateful since the idea of walking seemed completely beyond him. As they lifted him up Nick could see the charred carcass of the airplane. The nose of the plane was buried in the field and the broken tail hung limply in the air at an odd angle swinging gently in the morning breeze. He thought he could detect Roger slumped against the dashboard, but it was probably just his imagination. The body of the plane was badly burned and Roger would have been burned beyond recognition. The men carried Nick away towards the woods, while the boy tried to eradicate all traces of Nick’s presence in the dirt by dragging his feet over the flattened spot and then pissing on it to disguise the smell that might be picked up by dogs.

The walk seemed to last forever with every step causing fresh waves of pain. Nick tried to breathe deeply and count under his breath to calm himself down. By the time they reached the stone cottage he had lost count and was gritting his teeth until his jaw felt like it would break. The woman said nothing, just pulled aside a colorful rug in the middle of the room and pulled up the trap door. The thought of being lowered into that black hole made Nick’s heart pound with panic, but he closed his eyes and let the men maneuver him as they descended down the ladder into the cellar. He must have passed out for a few moments because the next thing he saw was a roughhewn stone wall next to the narrow cot they laid him on. One of the men had gone and the other one sat on an overturned crate next to the cot.

The man was middle aged with dark hair generously peppered with grey and a neat beard. His dark eyes watched Nick with obvious unease.

“You are awake,” he stated unnecessarily. “My name is Jean Lavelle and this is my house. My brother, Marcel went to fetch the doctor. They will be back soon.” He paused, giving Nick an opportunity to introduce himself.

“Lieutenant Nicholas McGuire.” Nick wasn’t going to volunteer any information. He had no idea if these people could be trusted.

“I wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you, Nicholas, but your presence here puts us in grave danger. We would have been better off leaving you where we found you. The village is under German occupation and Colonel Schneider, who is in command here, is a very dogged and dutiful individual. He is not as cruel and unreasonable as some, but we try to keep a low profile. A few months ago the Nazis found a crash site by a village outside of Tours. The officer in charge lined all the inhabitants and threated to shoot one every ten minutes until the pilot was turned over. By the time they shot the third person, the pilot turned himself in. From what we heard, he was tortured to death by the Gestapo. It took him five days to die.”

Jean was interrupted by the opening of the trap door in the adjacent space and a pair of legs in tweed trousers began to descend the ladder. Nick saw the boy’s anxious face peering into the cellar before he was shooed away and the door closed again. The new arrival introduced himself as Dr. Attal and ordered Jean to cut away Nick’s uniform with a pair of huge scissors. Protesting would have been useless, so Nick pulled out a snapshot of Lily from his breast pocket and submitted to being undressed. Jean took away his butchered uniform to be disposed of. Once he was left in his shorts and undershirt, the doctor proceeded with his examination. He began by listening to Nick’s chest and then gently prodded his sides and abdomen. The pain on his left side left him breathless. The doctor examined his legs and then sat down on the crate vacated by Lavelle in order to address Nick. Jean, who had returned by this time, translated since the doctor spoke very little English.

“You are lucky to be alive, young man. It seems you were thrown from the plane before it was engulfed by flames, so you are not badly burned. There are just a few spots that have been singed. You have three broken ribs on the left side and your right leg is fractured in two places. Your left wrist is badly sprained and you have a slight concussion. Otherwise, you are right as rain.” The doctor chuckled at his own joke and went on. “I will tape up your ribs, put your leg in a cast and bandage your wrist. I have some salve for the burns. You will need to stay in bed for several weeks at least and I will check on you whenever possible. I will give you something for the pain.”