couldn’t find a way to make Davy ill. If I couldn’t avoid the ghardians .
The sun set, twilight falling across the aerodrome, and I heard the first rumbles of an engine coming to life. I froze over my mop and stared at Juliet, busy wiping shelves. We gazed at each other for a moment and then darted to the doorway to watch.
One by one, the huge planes fired up, coughing and spluttering, and then roaring as the engines caught. Lights flashed in the distance on the runways, and the banging and rumbling got louder as they started their journeys. Juliet and I clung to each other. Logic told me they would return home safely in the wee hours of the morning. Fear held me, and I knew with a certainty I would not relax until I saw Davy again.
As the Wellingtons took off, their massively laden bellies heavy with bombs, they lurched into the air with all the clumsiness of sheep attempting to fly. God knew how they could even stay in the air, let alone fly thousands of miles. The noise was colossal, the vibrations pouring through my body, the ground trembling beneath our feet.
The moon was just rising, full and yellow. It would be bright later—a perfect bomber’s moon. I had to wonder what it must feel like for the Germans to see these raids flying overhead, dozens of English aircraft in tight formation, raining death upon them. I shuddered at the thought, feeling suddenly weak at the knees.
Juliet wrapped her arms around me and murmured into my hair. “Breathe,” she whispered. “Keep breathing, slow and steady. He’ll be fine, you know this.”
“Yeah,” I gasped back. “And Teddy too. But I’m still scared.”
•●•
Back in our room, I sat on Juliet’s bunk, while she paced up and down. Eventually she stopped to crouch before me, a tiny bottle in her hand.
“This is something I’ve got from the infirmary. I told them I had constipation.”
I took the bottle from her and slowly tipped it sideways, watching the thick, oily liquid slosh around inside.
“Syrup of figs. Take two spoons before bedtime.” I read the label aloud, and then looked up to Juliet. “This is perfect, but how much should I give him?”
She shrugged. “I’ve no idea. And you need to disguise the taste somehow. I tried just a tiny bit, and it’s disgusting.” Her nose wrinkled, her lips pursed, and I nodded.
“Thank you, really. You know, I could slip some to Teddy as well, if you like.”
Her blue eyes were steady. The pain in them clear. “Even if he avoids the next missions, there’s no guarantee. You know that, Bella. You’re changing history, rewriting the archives. You might only buy him a few days, and then you’ll be stuck here. Alone. Is that really what you want?” Her voice wavered, her face crumpled, and we fell into each other’s arms.
That was the one outcome I refused to consider.
The one that terrified me most of all.
Chapter Seventeen
We were due back in the mess hall at two a.m. Juliet dozed a little while I lay staring out at the night sky. Watching. Waiting. The clock ticked slowly, counting off the minutes with painful regularity. A light cloud cover drifted across the stars, blanketing them a few at a time, the moon fading and vanishing before me. And then, a little before one a.m., I heard a distant rumble.
Sitting up straight, I listened hard, straining to hear the noise. Not thunder, not the fuel trucks driving past. That was an airplane engine. Was the op complete?
I scrambled from my bed and shook Juliet’s shoulder as I stepped to the window. “They’re back. They’re back . I’m going to watch them land.”
As the heavy bombers circled around, following the dim lights outlining the runway, I counted them back. Eighteen had taken off. I prayed the same number would return.
Four landed in quick succession, peeling off the runway and trundling down toward the hangars. A bustle of trucks and personnel moved back and forth, the routine operations of the ground crew checking their
The sun set, twilight falling across the aerodrome, and I heard the first rumbles of an engine coming to life. I froze over my mop and stared at Juliet, busy wiping shelves. We gazed at each other for a moment and then darted to the doorway to watch.
One by one, the huge planes fired up, coughing and spluttering, and then roaring as the engines caught. Lights flashed in the distance on the runways, and the banging and rumbling got louder as they started their journeys. Juliet and I clung to each other. Logic told me they would return home safely in the wee hours of the morning. Fear held me, and I knew with a certainty I would not relax until I saw Davy again.
As the Wellingtons took off, their massively laden bellies heavy with bombs, they lurched into the air with all the clumsiness of sheep attempting to fly. God knew how they could even stay in the air, let alone fly thousands of miles. The noise was colossal, the vibrations pouring through my body, the ground trembling beneath our feet.
The moon was just rising, full and yellow. It would be bright later—a perfect bomber’s moon. I had to wonder what it must feel like for the Germans to see these raids flying overhead, dozens of English aircraft in tight formation, raining death upon them. I shuddered at the thought, feeling suddenly weak at the knees.
Juliet wrapped her arms around me and murmured into my hair. “Breathe,” she whispered. “Keep breathing, slow and steady. He’ll be fine, you know this.”
“Yeah,” I gasped back. “And Teddy too. But I’m still scared.”
•●•
Back in our room, I sat on Juliet’s bunk, while she paced up and down. Eventually she stopped to crouch before me, a tiny bottle in her hand.
“This is something I’ve got from the infirmary. I told them I had constipation.”
I took the bottle from her and slowly tipped it sideways, watching the thick, oily liquid slosh around inside.
“Syrup of figs. Take two spoons before bedtime.” I read the label aloud, and then looked up to Juliet. “This is perfect, but how much should I give him?”
She shrugged. “I’ve no idea. And you need to disguise the taste somehow. I tried just a tiny bit, and it’s disgusting.” Her nose wrinkled, her lips pursed, and I nodded.
“Thank you, really. You know, I could slip some to Teddy as well, if you like.”
Her blue eyes were steady. The pain in them clear. “Even if he avoids the next missions, there’s no guarantee. You know that, Bella. You’re changing history, rewriting the archives. You might only buy him a few days, and then you’ll be stuck here. Alone. Is that really what you want?” Her voice wavered, her face crumpled, and we fell into each other’s arms.
That was the one outcome I refused to consider.
The one that terrified me most of all.
Chapter Seventeen
We were due back in the mess hall at two a.m. Juliet dozed a little while I lay staring out at the night sky. Watching. Waiting. The clock ticked slowly, counting off the minutes with painful regularity. A light cloud cover drifted across the stars, blanketing them a few at a time, the moon fading and vanishing before me. And then, a little before one a.m., I heard a distant rumble.
Sitting up straight, I listened hard, straining to hear the noise. Not thunder, not the fuel trucks driving past. That was an airplane engine. Was the op complete?
I scrambled from my bed and shook Juliet’s shoulder as I stepped to the window. “They’re back. They’re back . I’m going to watch them land.”
As the heavy bombers circled around, following the dim lights outlining the runway, I counted them back. Eighteen had taken off. I prayed the same number would return.
Four landed in quick succession, peeling off the runway and trundling down toward the hangars. A bustle of trucks and personnel moved back and forth, the routine operations of the ground crew checking their
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