A Kestrel Rising

by S. A. Laybourn

  “Ilke.” His voice was hoarse. “I’m so sorry.”

  Ilona winced at the raw pain in his voice. Her jaw hurt and her throat was tight. She waited.

  “Ilke, please…”

  She wiped her eyes and stared, through her tears, at the leaden gray sky. She ached with longing as the scent of his aftershave stole across the room.

  “God, Ilke, say something, please.”

  Ilona wished that she didn’t love him. She wished that she didn’t want to turn around and fall into his arms.

  “I miss you so much.” There was no trace of the old, confident Francis in that voice. “Please…”

  She turned slowly. “I miss you too,” she whispered, her voice caught in her throat.

  “Forgive me?”

  She nodded, weakly. “Yes.”

  He rose and was across the room in an instant.

  “I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for turning my back on you and for saying what I did, and for not saying what I should have said.” He took her face between his hands. “I don’t want us to be like that again. I need you too much, darling. You are my refuge and my sanity and I’ve been so damned miserable without you.”

  Ilona did cry then, and she closed her eyes when he kissed her eyelids and held her. He trembled as he moved his hands through her hair and trailed along her damp cheeks. She touched his face.

  “I don’t want to go through that again, either. You’re not the only one who was unhappy, Francis.”

  He kissed her in sweet, gentle sips. She couldn’t stop crying. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, darling.”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t help it.” She kissed him back, reveling in the scent and the nearness of him.

  “Merry Christmas,” he whispered against her mouth. “I promise I won’t treat you like that again, darling. I won’t hurt you again.”

  “See that you don’t.”

  “Is Charlie ready to deck me? He didn’t look all that pleased to see me.”

  “No, he’ll be fine. Just make a fuss of the twins.”

  “Ah, yes, the twins. How is that working out?”

  “They’re adorable.”

  “Can’t we just stay in here? Right here. We have months and months to make up for.”

  “No we can’t. It’s Christmas Eve. We have to be sociable. Are you going to stay for the rest of the day?”

  “I may have to fall asleep on the settee tonight. I want to stay for as long as you’re here. Do you think your parents would mind? When do you go back?”

  “On the twenty-ninth,” she told him. “My CO told me to have a long break because I haven’t taken any time all year. No, I don’t think they would mind at all.”

  “Great minds think alike. Mine said the same thing. Can I really stay?”

  “I don’t see why not. But won’t your grandparents mind?”

  “Hell, no. They’ve been fretting ever since I got back because I hadn’t been to see you. Everyone has us paired up. We might as well be open and honest about it, although it’s probably best not to mention Grantchester.”

  “Five lovely days.” She rested her cheek against his chest. “I don’t think I shall ever forget a moment.”

  He caressed her waist. “Me neither. I hope we can do it again, soon.”

  “So do I, but not here.”

  He sighed. “You’re right, of course. Let me just kiss you one last time and then, I suppose I had better show my face and make a fuss of those twins.” He kissed her once more and she responded in kind until he groaned and let her go. “If I was back at Debden, I’d have to go and take a cold shower.”

  “I can run you a cold bath.”

  He stood and took her hand. “That’s enough talk, young lady. I’ll lose all self-control if I stay in this room with you any longer. I think we’d better be polite.”

  They found Charlie, Aislinn and the twins in the sitting room, the twins finally having abandoned their attempts to reach the Christmas tree. They were on their backs on the floor waving their hands and feet in the air and gurgling. Francis took her hand as they walked into the room.

  Charlie stood and shook Francis’ hand. “It’s good to see you again, mate.”

  “It’s good to see you too, but Ilke insisted that I had to come and coo over the babies.”

  Charlie grinned and stepped back. “Here they are. ‘Coo’ away.”

  Francis knelt on the floor and made a fuss of the twins. He tickled them and made silly faces that soon had them giggling and wriggling with delight until Nancy yawned and, promptly, fell asleep. James followed shortly after.

  Aislinn picked up James and Charlie, Nancy. “We’ll put them down for a nap. It will be nice to have a bit of peace and quiet for a little while. We’ll be back, so behave yourselves.”

  “Of course we will.” He put his arm around Ilona’s shoulders. “For the moment.” He winked, earning a laugh from Charlie.

  “They are cute.” He observed as they were left alone.

  “Yes, they are and aren’t you a dark horse? I never had you down as an expert with babies.”

  He grinned. “Now you know me. I’m good at just about everything I turn my hand to.”

  “Conceited too.”

  “It’s only because their aunt is so beautiful. Otherwise I wouldn’t bother.” He kissed her hair.

  She rested her head against his chest, feeling as if she had come home. It was good to feel the steady thud of his heart beneath her cheek. “This is better,” she sighed. “Peace and quiet and you.”

  “Isn’t it just? I could kick myself for the time I’ve thrown away this year. What a stupid, bloody foolish waste. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

  “I know you will.” She sat up as she heard the familiar rattle of the tea trolley, pushed by Mrs. Maplin.

  “Hello, Miss Ilke. Your mum says I was to bring in the things for elevenses. She says she and your dad will be coming in a moment, just in case you were thinking of any more spooning.”

  Francis roared with laughter. “Spooning? Is that what it’s called?”

  “They have the measure of you.” Ilona giggled. “They have the measure of both of us.”

  The cook parked the trolley beside the settees and left, chuckling to herself and shaking her head. As she departed, her parents arrived. Francis rose to kiss her mother on the cheek and shake her father’s hand.

  “It’s good to see peace restored.” Her father sat on the other settee. “Welcome back, son.”

  “Thank you, sir. It’s good to be back.” Francis wound his fingers through Ilona’s.

  Her mother was all smiles when she poured the tea and handed the cups around. “Will you be staying, Francis? It’s fine if you want to stay here while Ilke’s home.”

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like to, ma’am. It’s been a while and we have a lot to catch up on.”

  She offered him a warm smile. “We’d be delighted if you could stay. I’m sure your grandparents wouldn’t mind.”

  “Thank you. I’d really appreciate that.”

  With that settled, the conversation turned to lighter matters and Charlie and Aislinn returned without the twins as the snow begin to drift, idly onto the lawn.

  * * * *

  By the time everyone had retired for the night, the snow was falling heavily and Ilona and Francis retreated to the dark warmth of the small sitting room. They curled up beside each other on the settee while the fire crackled and hissed and spat. “This was well worth the wait.” He sighed into her hair.

  “Yes, it is.”

  He put his hand under her chin and looked at her, his eyes brilliant in the firelight. “I don’t even want to sleep,” he told her, “because I’m afraid if I do, I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I’d rather sleep with you.”

  “So would I.”

  “But that’s not going to happen, is it?”

  “My parents are tolerant, but not that
tolerant.”

  “That’s probably a good thing.”

  “Sadly for us, yes.”

  He kissed her, slowly and deliberately. He was all warmth and comfort and his hands strayed to places that had been untouched for too long. Ilona kissed him back and slid her hand between the buttons of his shirt, until he drew back.

  “I’m sorry, darling,” he whispered. “I don’t think I can help myself.”

  “Nor can I.” She slipped out of his arms and locked the door. If they were quiet, no one would ever know.

  “That’s my girl.” He drew her back into his arms. “I’ve missed you so much, Ilke.”

  Ilona’s guilt at what they were about to do was swept away by the feel of Francis’ skin against her own. Her fingers followed paths that she had ached to revisit. She loved the smooth hollow of his back and the way he was colored by the firelight and the way he took his time. The fire of February was replaced by a reverence that hadn’t been there before. Whether he loved her or not, he filled the silence with endearments between kisses and moved with a delicate grace. She wanted to cry again but, instead, she gave him everything. She let her hands and her mouth speak for her. She kissed the shadowed hollow beneath his collarbone and kept her touch light and gentle. He shuddered and sighed as he gathered her up and slid into her. It felt like coming home.

  “I missed you too,” she whispered against his throat and his lips until he took her to a place where words were no longer necessary.

  * * * *

  “Mama,” Aislinn said. “She’s doing it again.”

  Ilona picked up the cup and saucer. “Why shouldn’t I?”

  “Because you’ll spoil him, that’s why.”

  Brilliant sunlight streamed through the windows of the breakfast room and fell across the table, glittering on the cutlery. “Nonsense, it’s Christmas Day. I didn’t get him a Christmas present, so he can have a cup of tea instead.”

  “You are besotted, aren’t you?” her sister declared.

  “I might be, but don’t tell him.” She took the tea and walked back up the stairs. She rapped on his door and crept in. His deep, even breathing told her that he was still asleep. She drew back the curtains and looked at him as he slept with the abandon of a small child. She set the tea on the bedside table and touched his face. He murmured something in his sleep and rolled over, clasping his pillow.

  “Merry Christmas.” She kissed his cheek.

  He regarded her with one open eye and grinned. “Are you my Christmas present?”

  “No, your cup of tea is.”

  He sat up and rubbed his eyes. “I think last night was the best gift I’ve ever received.”

  She blushed and felt weak at the memory, dizzy and reeling as they climbed the stairs, arms wrapped around each other. “Likewise.” She smiled weakly.

  He made space for her on the bed and she sat beside him while he drank his tea. “What’s it like outside today?” he asked.

  “Very sunny and very cold. We didn’t get much snow, just a dusting, enough to make everything look pretty.”

  “Can we go for a walk after breakfast?”

  “Don’t we always? It seems to have become a custom of ours.”

  “A very pleasant one.” He finished his tea. “Now you’d better scoot, because I don’t think a well brought up young lady like you should be in a gentleman’s bedroom while he’s in a state of undress for very long.”

  She laughed. “It’s a bit late to be finding that you have a conscience.”

  * * * *

  They found themselves sitting on Anna’s bench, holding hands in the sharp, frosty chill of late morning. The fields were brilliant with snow and pale blue shadows lingered in the folds and hollows. They sat in silence listening to the distant peal of church bells from the next village.

  “There’s something about this place. It’s so peaceful,” Francis observed. “I can sit here for hours, but it seems the only time we’re ever here is in the winter, when it’s freezing. I imagine my mom spent a lot of time here, and Dad, too, when he was around.”

  “I can’t say that I blame them, I like it here. It’s a good place to sit, think and just stare at the scenery. I wish I’d had this place to come to these past few months.”

  He sighed and kissed her hair. “I’m sorry, Ilke. I swear I’ll never treat you like that again. There’s no excuse for what I did, but I can be a real ass when the occasion calls for it. I really thought it was the best thing for everybody. It just goes to show that I’d be better sticking to what I do best, flying planes.”

  “It was a horrible ten months. It was worse than if you had died.”

  He nodded. “Yes, I remember that line from your last letter, about the ghosts of the living being the hardest to vanquish. That cut deep because you were right. I didn’t think so at the time. I intended to throw that letter away. I crumpled it up and threw it on the floor and then, after a while, I thought better of it and retrieved it.”

  She remembered Harry’s letter and kept quiet.

  “I spent so much time missing you. I may have shut you out, but I can’t tell you how many conversations I had with you in my mind. Wherever I was, I always thought of you, even though the guilt just about killed me.” He gazed at the sky and swallowed. “I told you yesterday that I care more about you than I should, and what I mean is that, because of this damn war, there’s too much that can go wrong. Will you be patient with me?” He rested his forehead against hers. “I can’t offer you any more than that at the moment, darling.”

  Ilona put her hands to his face. “It’s all right. I understand. I’ll be patient, I promise. Just don’t be an idiot again. Talk to me, Francis. Don’t shut me out. If you abide by that one request, I will wait for as long as it takes because I need you. I really didn’t want to go through the rest of my life hiding away, because of what happened with Ian. I couldn’t go through that again. I can’t live life wrapped in cotton wool. He made me promise, a long time ago that, if anything happened to him, I wasn’t to mourn him forever and that I had to live my life. It took returning to Catterick to honor that promise, and I’m so glad that I did. It was hard and I cried more than once, but it’s done and I’m free now.”

  “Thank you,” he whispered, kissing her. “Thank you, darling. I promise that I won’t let you down again. I don’t want to lose what we have, not now.”

  “Neither do I.” She kissed him back, wishing they were somewhere else.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “I want you to have these.” Francis pressed something cool and hard into her hand.

  It was their last evening and everyone had gone to bed. They had sought refuge in the small sitting room for the first time since Christmas Eve. Rain spat against the window. Ilona opened her hand and found the glint of firelight on silver, a small round badge with an eagle at the center of a laurel wreath, and two flat discs on a chain.

  “It’s your Eagle Squadron badge.”

  “I wanted you to have something. Look on them as a promise.” He took the chain and slipped it over her head. “I wore these until I joined the USAAF. I’d like you to wear them. It’s my promise to you that I won’t let you down again.”

  The discs felt warm against her skin.

  “Thank you.”

  She couldn’t think of anything to say, knowing that she was wearing something that he had worn against his own skin for three years, like a talisman that had kept him safe. “What about the badge? Don’t you wear that on your uniform?”

  “I did, and I could if I wanted to. I know one or two of the other guys do, but it’s yours now. It meant so much to earn that badge, but you mean so much more.” He kissed her warmly. He cradled her face with his hands. “It’s the best I can do at the moment, darling. I think there’ll be tough times ahead.”

  “I know.”

  “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

  “I know you will.”

  * * * *

  Darling Ilke,

  Well
, here we are, again, back to writing letters and me back to flying planes. It’s non-stop here. Blakeslee is now in charge and that’s not a bad thing, although he is a stickler for good behavior, which is a little tough sometimes, because I don’t think any of us are particularly well behaved. We’re good where it matters, in the air. We’ve already had some choice battles. We had to rendezvous with the bomber boys the other day and a dozen or so enemy planes pounced on us from above, flying out of the sun…always tricky. We were all over the place, from twenty-four thousand feet almost down to the deck. If fights like that go well, it can’t be beat. I would still rather be flying something a little more nimble than the Jug, but it takes a lot of flak and bullets and stays in the air. When I got back from that mission, I had a look at the old girl. She’d been shot up pretty bad and I didn’t have a scratch on me.

  How was your journey back to the frozen north? I hope it didn’t take too long and that you got back in one, gorgeous piece. It gets harder to say goodbye to you every time, and I really hope that, one day soon, we’ll be done with all these goodbyes. It doesn’t help that you’re halfway to Scotland. I’d love to drop by sometime, but I don’t think Blakeslee would look too kindly on my using the plane for social calls. I hope the driving is going well and that you’re not having to battle with too much snow. I carry this picture in my head of you singing as you drive. Of course, that is only one of the many pictures I keep in my mind, the color of your hair in the firelight is another. I had better stop this because I could go on all day and night about those memories.