Some Day I'll Find You

Some Day I'll Find You by Richard Madeley Page B

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Authors: Richard Madeley
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so
many
of them. Most of the dogfights were inland, away from the
beaches. I suppose that’s why the Army thought we’d let them down. The whole point was trying to stop Jerry’s planes getting to Dunkirk itself. But we didn’t have long to
engage them. After a few minutes we had to turn back home to refuel, grab a sandwich and a mug of tea, and then it was back over there again, a.s.a.p. It was absolutely bloody exhausting, I can
tell you.’
    Lucy came in from the hall. ‘Telephone for Miss Diana.’
    Diana slipped from the room.
    ‘The thing is,’ John continued, ‘the thing is . . .’ Here, he came to a complete halt.
    ‘It’s all right,’ his father murmured. ‘Take it easy, John.’
    ‘No, I’m all right, Dad – really I am. The thing is, well, we lost a lot of chaps, you see. Someone in Intelligence told me yesterday that at least sixty Spits have been shot
down over France and the Channel in the last three weeks. You’re not supposed to know that, by the way. And I saw some of them going down . . . heard them, too.’
    His parents looked puzzled. ‘How could you hear them?’ his father asked quietly.
    The boy pointed to his throat. ‘Over their radios. Some of the chaps accidentally leave their mics open, and when they’re hit, you hear – well, noises. You know. A lot go down
in flames and . . . stuff. It’s pretty horrible.’
    Gwen and Oliver stared blankly at their son.
    ‘And we’ve lost four from our squadron alone. Really super chaps. Two definitely killed, one burned to a bloody crisp and lingering, another shot down and taken prisoner. All that in
less than a month.’ His head twisted away.
    Diana burst back into the room. ‘That was James! He’s got leave too and wants to come down here. I told him that was absolutely fine. It
is,
isn’t it?’
    Gwen stood up and took her boy into her arms.
    ‘Of course it is,’ she said over his shoulder. ‘It’s the least we can do.’

29
    Brother and sister lay on the lawn behind the Dower House and stared up at the brightest stars that were beginning to appear in the summer night sky.
    ‘That’s Venus, isn’t it, Johnnie?’ Diana asked. ‘You know: “Twinkle, twinkle, little star” . . .’
    ‘Yes. That’s the Evening Star all right. Remember the Mad Hatter? “Twinkle, twinkle, little bat, how I wonder what you’re at”?’
    ‘“Up above the world you fly”,’ Diana continued, ‘“Like a tea-tray in the sky” . . .’
    They laughed.
    ‘Bonkers,’ said Diana. She turned her head to his. ‘Johnnie?’
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘Have you killed anyone?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘More than one?’
    ‘Yes.’ Her brother sat up beside her, patting his pockets. ‘Do you have the cigarettes? I can’t find them.’
    ‘Yes. Here.’ She lit one for each of them. ‘Go on.’
    John lay back on the grass. ‘I think I’ve killed three men, actually. Well, that’s stupid, I
know
I have.’
    A shooting star flared across the sky and Diana grabbed her brother’s hand. ‘Make a wish, quick!’
    He tensed, and then slowly relaxed. ‘It’s done . . . anyway . . .’
    Diana waited. When her brother remained silent, she sat up and considered him in the gathering dusk.
    ‘We’re living in extraordinary times, aren’t we, John? I can hardly conceive of my big brother killing anyone, let alone three men. Tell me about it, if you can.’
    After an even longer silence, he put an arm around her waist and rested his head on her lap. When he spoke, his voice was muffled.
    ‘It’s awfully mechanical, actually. Automatic.’
    She let him gather himself. Eventually he pulled clear of her and finished his cigarette.
    ‘Let’s see . . .’ he started. ‘There were about six or seven of their dive-bombers headed for our men on the beaches late one afternoon. I think it was last Tuesday.
Maybe Wednesday. They were Stukas. Vile things. They have two men on board, you see, one flying, the other operating the machine-gun, shooting up the blokes on

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