London Dawn by Murray Pura Page A

bushes so they can be alone?”
    “Yes. Why not? But first.” She produced an envelope from her coat.
    “What’s this?”
    “It’s from your father.”
    “Must I read it now?”
    “I’d rather we get it out of the way, yes.”
    “My mind’s on other things now.” Kipp began to kiss her on the cheek and neck.
    She closed her eyes. “Is it?”
    “It was on aviation an hour ago, but now I can’t even recall what I was flying. Do you?”
    “A plane of some sort, wasn’t it?”
    “I’m not sure.” He ran his hand through her thick blond hair and pulled her closer. “There. I had the name for a moment but it’s gone.”
    “Oh, Kipp.” She tried to squirm loose. “We must talk first.”
    “You started it.”
    “I started it?”
    “You showed up looking so inviting.”
    “In this ratty old coat? With my hair all windblown?”
    He kissed her ear and her hair. “You look perfect.”
    “I do not look perfect. I was in such a rush to get here. There was barely time to pack a few things.”
    “What was the rush? Was I the rush?”
    “Oh, yes, you were the rush.” She pushed him back with both hands. “They’ve found Ben and Victoria.”
    “What?” Kipp pulled back. “When? Are they all right?”
    “Physically they’re fine. Ben was forced down by an Italian fighter before Christmas. He was ferrying some medical supplies near the border with Ethiopia and took a burst of machine-gun fire. Crashed in the jungle. He had a hard time with no legs making it to a town where he could contact Vic. Some bigwigs from Westminster got involved and told him not to say anything. That Britain’s official policy is not to offend Rome. Oh, it’s all a big mess. They just started letting their mail go through a few weeks ago. Your father is furious. But no one in the family is allowed to go public about what happened to Ben. All hush-hush. So the mission is without a plane and there Ben sits with Victoria and the boys at his side.”
    Kipp hesitated, taking it all in. “He’s not hurt.”
    “Banged up from the crash. Nothing serious.”
    “I can write him then.”
    “Yes, of course. But they’ll jail you if you speak publicly about the incident with the Italian fighter.”
    “Dad wanted you to come down here and tell me this?”
    “In person. No telegrams. No phone calls. No letters.”
    Kipp lifted up the envelope she’d given him. “What’s this then?”
    She shrugged. “There were a lot of things on his mind. Once I said I’d drive down here with the news about Ben he dashed it off.”
    “I should read it.”
    “Go ahead.”
    My dear boy,
    With Caroline running to Martlesham Heath to give you the news about Ben and Victoria I thought it best to jot down some of my thoughts. First, let me say I pray for you daily and I thank God you are where you are. German rearmament is surging ahead at a frenetic pace, and no one is in a position to put a halt to it, so you must help rebuild our air force. Our government is playing a fool’s game by favoring Italy in the Ethiopian War, believing Rome will side with us against any aggression from Herr Hitler. Nonsense. Fascists will flock with fascists. Which brings me to the trouble in Spain.
    You must keep this very close to your chest. I only put it in writing because Caroline is bringing this letter to you. We anticipate an uprising of Spanish fascist elements against the Socialist government of that country. My sources are fairly certain Britain will side with the fascists. We want untroubled access to Spanish ports and Gibraltar and feel we will get them from the fascists more so than the Socialists or Communists. As you know, Terry is down there with the Hood and the Mediterranean Fleet right now, keeping an eye out for Italy’s interests, though the fight is very one-sided and Ethiopia must surrender shortly. The Hood will most certainly not be recalled to English waters if the threat remains of conflict in Madrid and Barcelona. Your brother Edward is