A Kestrel Rising

by S. A. Laybourn

  * * * *

  Every trip that week brought Flight Lieutenant Carstairs ever closer to the front of the bus so that, by the time she picked the crews up on Friday afternoon, he was in the seat immediately behind hers. He remained behind when the others disembarked.

  “Can I help you with something, Flight Lieutenant?” She turned in her seat to look at him.

  “Are you busy tomorrow night?”

  She was aware that his crew lingered at the bottom of the steps, grinning and waiting. “I had nothing planned, Sir.”

  He smiled and confirmed her suspicions about the dimples. “A few of us usually go into the village on a Saturday night, to a pub. I was wondering if you’d care to come along.”

  She paused for a moment or two. He looked at her so hopefully. “Yes,” she replied. “I’d like that.”

  “Good.” He grinned. “Sandy’s lass will show you where we all meet and I’ll see you tomorrow.” He picked up his gear and ran off the bus. As she drove away, she smiled when she glanced back in the rear view mirror and saw his colleagues laughing and patting him on the back, as if he had just accomplished one of the most difficult missions of his life.

  * * * *

  “You look perfect.” Faith observed as they walked with the other girls from their hut, to the gates where the bus would take them into the village.

  “Really?”

  “You’ll be fine. Remember, he asked you.”

  The bus idled outside the gates, exhaust smoke rose into the cold night air. The men were waiting and Ilona found Ian standing with Faith’s boyfriend, his hands in his pockets, deep in conversation. He glanced up as the chattering group of girls approached and something inside Ilona did a slow flip when he spotted her and smiled.

  Everyone else seemed to fade away. “Hello, Ilona Lowe,” he said, softly.

  “Hello.”

  He took her hand and tucked it in the crook of his arm. “Shall we go?” he asked. “I promise that you won’t have to drive the bus.”

  She laughed. “That makes a change.”

  He leaned close and whispered, “The bus driver isn’t half as pretty as you. I think she has chin hairs which, luckily, we can’t see in the dark.” He guided her along the bus then sat beside her and took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. It felt completely right to her, while the bus rumbled toward the village. The land was in darkness because of the blackout, the only light came from the moon as it passed between the gathering clouds. It seemed strange to be away from the artificial world of the airfield and Ilona realized it was the first time she had seen the village since she’d arrived at Catterick. The bus pulled up in front of a white building that stood on the edge of a green.

  “It’s lovely here in the warm weather,” Ian told her. “You can take your drinks and sit out on the grass.”

  Ilona peered into the dimness. She made out the vague outline of an old stone cross and a large tree, before her companion led her into the warmth and brightness of the pub. The landlord had pulled several tables together in front of the fire. Ian grabbed two chairs at the far end and helped her with her coat. “What would you like to drink?” he asked, when she sat down.

  “Sherry, please.”

  When he returned with the drinks, he pulled his chair closer to hers. He raised his glass to her. “Thanks for coming, and here’s to a nice evening. The first of many, I hope.”

  “I hope so too.” She sipped her sherry.

  “It’s an unusual name, Ilona,” he said. “Is it a family name?”

  “It’s Hungarian.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Hungarian?”

  “My father was Hungarian, not that I ever knew him. He’d died before I was born and my mother not long after.”

  “I’m sorry about your parents.”

  “It’s all right. I don’t even remember my mother. To me, my aunt and uncle will always be my parents.” She took another sip of sherry. “What about you? All I know is that you’re from Scotland and you can fly a plane.”

  “Nothing so exotic. I was born in Glasgow. I have three brothers. My mum is a nurse and my dad works in a shipyard. I went to university and I just started my first year as a teacher when the war started. I was always mad about planes and determined to fly them, so, here I am.” He rested his chin on his hand and looked at her. “And I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else right now.”

  She gazed back, smiling. “Nor me.”

  * * * *

  Ilona was sorry when someone announced that the bus was due. Ian helped her into her coat and they walked out into the icy night with the others. The moon had disappeared and Ilona fancied she could smell snow in the wind. It swirled across the green, stirring up old, dead leaves that rattled across the road. She shivered.

  Ian took her hand in his and tucked them both in his coat pocket. “There’s a dance at the NAAFI next week,” he said. “Will you come with me?”

  “I’d love to.” She smiled at him, feeling something inside leap at the thought.

  His eyes glittered in the darkness. “It’s a date, then. I should warn you. I can’t dance all that well.”

  “I don’t mind, neither can I.”

  The bus pulled up with a hiss of brakes and the revelers slowly made their way to their seats. Ilona was content to sit quietly with her hand in Ian’s while his fingers wound their way through hers. He traced idle circles on her palm with his thumb. She could have sat like that for a long time, trying to work out how such a simple gesture could make her feel so weak and warm all at once. It seemed only a moment or two later that they were standing inside the gates of the airfield as the bus roared away into the night. Ilona felt the cold creep into her bones.

  “Back to the grind,” Ian sighed. “The war doesn’t stop even for Sundays.” He squeezed her hand. “Thank you for this evening. I really enjoyed it.”

  “So did I.” Ilona was aware that Faith was waiting somewhere beyond the gate. “Thank you.”

  “Good night.” He kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning, ACW Lowe.”

  “That you will, Flight Lieutenant Carstairs.” She smiled. “Good night.” She turned and walked back toward where Faith waited.

  “Well?” Faith asked, as they strolled back toward the hut. “How was it?”

  “How was what?”

  “Your evening, you goose. Don’t tease.”

  “It was lovely.” Ilona sighed, still feeling the trace of his touch on her hand and the warmth of his lips on her cold cheek. “You’re right, Faith. He’s adorable.”

  “Ha! I knew it! You’ve fallen for him already, haven’t you?” Faith took her arm. “Haven’t you?”

  “I don’t know. If fallen for him means wanting to spend more and more time with him, then yes, even if it means just seeing him on the bus twice a day until next weekend.”

  “Did he ask you to the dance?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s wonderful. I just knew that you two would hit it off. I’m so pleased for you both.”

  Ilona grinned. “You know what, Faith? I’m pleased too. I don’t know that I’ve felt this happy in ages, if ever. I know there’s a war on and that makes everything sharper and clearer and quicker and strange. I know that we can’t take anything for granted. My mother once said that war is a terrible thing. It breaks hearts. But I intend to enjoy every moment that I spend with Ian.”

  Her friend sighed. “I know what you mean. That’s how it is with Sandy and me. They have dangerous jobs. I know they haven’t really seen any action yet, so we’ve been lucky, but every day, I watch for his return. I count the planes when they come in, with my fingers crossed.”

  * * * *

  It seemed strange to be back to business as usual the following morning. The only difference was that the seat immediately behind Ilona’s was left empty. Ian slid into it and winked in the rear view mirror when she pulled out and headed toward the runway. Nothing else had changed. The men still chatted amongst themselves. They smiled
and thanked her as she dropped them off by their planes.

  Ian was the last off the bus. “I’ll see you later. I’ll dip the wing of the old girl as I come back in, that way you’ll know it’s me and everything is all right.”

  “Won’t you get in trouble?”

  “Don’t worry. It will be a subtle dip. The squadron leader is too far up his own arse to notice things like that.”

  The cold winter sun was beginning to slide toward the west across the Old North Road before the planes returned. Ilona made it to the runway’s edge in time to see them circle before their final approach. The rumbling drone of their engines was the only sound in the afternoon silence. She shivered while she stood beside the bus, hands in the warm pockets of her airman’s jacket. One by one, the planes touched down. Ilona shielded her eyes from the glare of the sun and watched the final plane, because Ian always seemed to be the one bringing up the rear. When it descended toward the runway, the nearest wing dipped toward her like a bow. That simple, secret gesture touched her more than any kiss. She wanted to wave wildly—instead she waited until the crews began to emerge from their planes and started her drive to pick up her weary passengers.

  Chapter Four

  “What a stupid bloody rule.” Faith straightened the skirt of her dress uniform. “Having to wear our uniforms while we’re on base. It’s a dance, for heaven’s sake.”

  Ilona fastened the final button of her jacket and tugged at her shirt collar—the starch chafing her neck. “I couldn’t agree more. But, I suppose, rules are rules.” She was looking forward to seeing Ian in his dress blues. It made the discomfort of the collar and the hideous, sensible shoes worth wearing.

  “Are you ready?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be in this wretched uniform.” Faith glanced at her watch. “I suppose we’d better go. They’ll be waiting for us.”

  They hurried out into the cold and bowed their heads against the bitter wind. At least, Ilona reflected, the uniform was warm. Faith had heard that this would be the last dance for a while. The squadron was to become fully operational at the beginning of February. Corporal Harris had told Ilona that the squadron would be flying at night and her shift would be changing to reflect that, because the crews were insistent that she continue to be their driver.

  “I reckon they think you bring them luck,” he’d said. “But, whatever the reasons, they want you there to send them off and there to pick them up, and I’m not going to argue with that. There won’t be much else to do, mind. There’s a cot in the back office that you can use, while you’re waiting and, because you’re on night duty, there will be no driving for you during the day.”

  “Really, Corporal Harris, sir?”

  He’d smiled at her, for the first time she could remember. “Really, ACW Lowe. You know morale is very important, so just because you don’t feel you’re working as hard as you were, what you’re doing is equally important.”

  “Yes, Corporal Harris, sir.” She hadn’t been able to contain her grin, and to stay on the same shift as Ian made it more than bearable. She thought about this as she and Faith walked toward the dance hall. The faint strains of music slipped through the door. She spotted the glow of a cigarette when they approached and realized it was probably Sandy.

  “It’s about bloody time,” he joked. “It’s not like you were fretting about what to wear, so don’t use that use that excuse, Faith. Poor Ian has frozen to death where he stands.”

  Faith laughed. “Don’t be so melodramatic. We’re not even late.”

  “You had better thaw Ian out, Ilona.” Sandy put his arm around Faith’s shoulder. “He’s a big soft girl without his flying jacket.”

  “Och away with you, man.” Ian grinned and took Ilona’s hand. “I’m just fine. You’re the one who’s been whining about the cold.” He smiled at her and kissed her cheek. “Are you ready to have your toes trodden on, Ilke?”

  A blast of warmth and music hit them when they walked into the dance hall. A band played on the stage, complete with a singer.

  “It’s the RAF band,” Ian told her, as the singer launched into Begin the Beguine. He took her hand. “Shall we dance?”

  “It’s worth a try.” She giggled. “At least with these wretched shoes, you might not hurt my toes so much.”

  He led her onto the crowded dance floor and put his arm around her waist. In spite of his claims to the contrary, he danced with some grace and avoided her toes. His eyes never left her face but Ilona didn’t mind. She studied him and thought he looked splendid in his dress blues.

  “Let’s get a drink,” he suggested when the song finished. “Sherry?”

  “Yes, please.”

  He kept hold of her hand as they made their way to the bar. Some of her passengers greeted Ilona warmly while they clapped her companion on the back. There were one or two ribald comments and more than a few expressed their delight that she would be their driver when they switched over to night patrol.

  “Aye,” Ian said, as they carried their drinks away from the bar. “A few of us paid Corporal Harris a visit, and he was more than happy to change your shift. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all. It was a nice surprise.”

  They found a table in a far corner of the hall, away from the noise of the crowd and the band. He took a sip of his beer. “It’s what we all wanted, me especially. I know it sounds a wee bit fanciful, but we’re a superstitious lot and it seems right that you see us out and you’re there when we come back. It’s nice to have someone to come back to.” He squeezed her hand. “I like the notion that at the end of a patrol, you’re waiting there. Is that selfish of me?”

  “Not at all. I like the idea too.”

  “So you don’t mind my selfishness ruining your beauty sleep?”

  “I’ll soon let you know if I think it’s ruining my beauty sleep. My sister says that I’m not very nice when I haven’t had enough sleep. So consider yourself warned.”

  He leaned across the table and kissed her cheek. “Thank you, Ilke.” He smiled. “I also asked the corporal to arrange it so that we are on the same rotation.”

  “How on earth did you manage that?” That Ian had managed to persuade the usually intractable corporal to ensure that they had leave at the same time seemed little short of miraculous.

  “That’s my secret.” He winked. “Would you like another dance?”

  Ilona took his hand.

  “Ah, one of my favorites,” Ian murmured, when he pulled her close and sang softly in her ear. “My own…”

  Ilona closed her eyes and rested her head against his shoulder. She didn’t care if anyone noticed or not. She would have given anything to be somewhere else with him, far away from the war and planes and the hot, crowded dance floor. A spreading warmth made her feel weak and tearful, scared and foolish, all because he held her and sang a plaintive love song in her ear. She was sorry when the song ended.

  “Time for some fresh air,” he whispered and led her away from the dance floor.

  The cold night air was a shock but after the stuffiness of the hall, it was welcome. Ian said nothing as they wandered into the darkness. Stars glinted coldly against a backdrop of black, away from the glow of the waning moon.

  “That’s better,” Ian declared, taking a deep breath. “It’s a wee bit warm in there.

  “It is and wearing these uniforms doesn’t help.” Ilona wanted to rip her collar to pieces.

  “The price we pay.” His smile was bright in the gloom. “But you’d look good in sackcloth and ashes.”

  “That’s nice of you to say so.”

  “Oh, I’m not being polite. I mean it.” He took her face in his hands and kissed her, as if he was taking a cautious sip of a strange, new drink. Ilona responded with equal caution. He slid his arms around her waist and, trembling, answered with more confidence, drawing the breath from her.

  Ian held her close, burying his face in her hair. “I think I’ve fallen in love with you, Ilke.”

&nb
sp; “Me too.” She wondered if he was shaking because of the cold. She didn’t think her voice too steady either. “I never expected this.” She touched his face.

  “Same here.” He laughed. “Not until I stepped on that bus one, bright morning. I never expected to find a rose on this particular dung heap.” He kissed her again, his fingers curled in her hair. “I’d give anything to be somewhere else right now, darling—somewhere warm and peaceful.”

  He sounded nervous and Ilona found it endearing. “I was thinking that, when we were dancing.”

  He grinned. “My terrible singing didn’t scare you off then?”

  “Far from it. I love that song and I’ll love it even more, now.”

  His hand was warm against her cheek. “Bless you for saying that. Can I just say how happy I feel right now?”

  “As happy as I am, I hope.” Ilona shivered when the night chill began to chase away the shared warmth.

  “Now you’re cold and so am I. We’d better get back inside before we freeze on the spot.” He kissed her once more. “I love you, Ilke.”

  “I love you, too.” She took his hand and they returned to the smoky, crowded warmth of the hall. If anyone had noticed their absence, nothing was said as they eased their way through to the bar, apart from by Sandy, who gave his comrade a broad wink and nudged him. “A little cold outside, was it?”

  “Not at all,” Ian replied. “It was nice and warm.”

  When the band struck the first chords of a familiar song, Ian grabbed her hand. “Here’s something we can dance to.” They made their way back to the dance floor. “I’ve been waiting for this one all night.”

  Ilona recognized an Ink Spots song and smiled as Ian pulled her into his arms once more. His voice was soft as he sang in her ear. The wool of his tunic was rough beneath her cheek.

  His arm tightened around her waist. “It drives the lads crazy,” he whispered, “when I start singing over the radio. They start howling in pain.”

  Ilona giggled. “Your voice isn’t bad.”