by Dan Walsh
“Thank you, sir. It’s much appreciated.” He saluted and stepped back through the doorway. Before the door closed, he heard Gibson say aloud, “Astonishing, simply astonishing.”
32
Jack sat in his room, trying to get into a book he’d been reading over the last few days. Surprisingly, no patrol missions had been scheduled today. Either the Luftwaffe had taken the day off, or else they’d reduced their attacks on the shipping lanes to a more moderate level. Either way, the services of Jack’s squadron were not being called upon. Their CO had suggested the men do whatever they could to enjoy this brief respite. Once the air war began, the concept of “free time” would go out the window.
Jack set the book down. He was too distracted by yesterday’s events. The problem was, he wasn’t sure which of the two things affected him more. Meeting Renée, which all but guaranteed he would soon meet his long-lost twin brother, or just… meeting Renée. Why did she have to be so beautiful? And so easy to be with? And so easy to talk to? Her presence in the situation added all sorts of layers to what was supposed to be a singular pursuit.
He hadn’t come all this way to meet the girl of his dreams; he’d come to find Elliot. But on the drive back last night from London to the airfield, and for all his waking hours after that, he had two thoughts about Renée for every one thought about his brother.
The front door opened. Joe peeked his head inside. “Hey buddy, passing on a message. Someone snagged me on my way back from the mess hall. You got a visitor. Headquarters building. The guy who told me was sent from Captain Gibson, so you better get a move on.”
Jack stood. “Who’s the visitor?”
“Don’t know. They didn’t say. Anyway, I gotta use the john.” Leaving the door open, he walked down the hall.
Jack grabbed his hat and headed out the door. It was a five-minute walk to the headquarters building. Along the way, he watched two flights of Hurricanes take off. Just some routine training for some of the newer pilots. Even still, made him wish he could join them. That part of this trip had no downsides. Jack still loved flying and couldn’t believe how many times he’d gotten the chance to scratch that itch since coming to England.
Just as he reached the front door, it opened and one of the Australian pilots he knew came out.
When he saw Jack, he did a double-take and looked back inside the office. Then back at Jack. “Thought you were already in there, mate. Don’t look now, but there’s someone in their who’s your spittin’ image.”
“What?”
“Head on in, you’ll see.”
Elliot. Has to be. He hurried in and glanced around the room.
There he was, rising to his feet, staring right at Jack. A flurry of emotions fired off inside. Disbelief. Confusion. Relief. And a simmering anger, not at Elliot but at whatever had kept them apart till now.
“Pilot Officer Turner?” Elliot said.
“Major Turner?” Jack replied and instantly saluted.
Elliot returned the salute then quickly added, “Let’s do away with the formalities, shall we?” He stepped toward Jack with his hand extended.
Jack eagerly shook it. He thought he saw moisture welling up in Elliot’s eyes. There was an impulse to hug him, which he quickly killed. But this was his brother. Tears quickly filled Jack’s eyes. He wiped them on his sleeve. “I can’t believe it’s you. You’re really here.”
There could be no doubt. One look at the man standing in front of him and Elliot knew—Renée had not been mistaken.
It was like looking in the mirror.
“I met with Renée last night,” Elliot said. “I’m sure you’ve guessed that. It’s why I’m here. What she said seemed impossible to believe.”
“Then it’s true,” Jack said. “You’ve had no idea I even existed?”
“Not until last night. And until you just walked in here, I still couldn’t be certain it was true.”
“Do you want to see any papers? My ID? Or passport?”
“That won’t be necessary, Jack. Is that what I should call you?”
“Sure. It’s what our Dad’s always called me, growing up.”
Our dad. Elliot sighed.
“Oh, that’s right,” Jack said. “You didn’t know about him before last night, either.”
“No, I didn’t.” Elliot sighed again. “There’s so much to talk about. But this isn’t the place. Is there a pub somewhere close?”
“Maybe ten minutes away.”
“I have a car outside.”
“There’s a good chance I can go,” Jack said. “But I’m not officially on leave. I’d have to clear it first with Group Cap—”
“I’ve already cleared it with him. He’s okayed our visit. Is there anything else you need to do?”
“No. Lead the way.” Jack stepped aside and Elliot walked past him toward the front door. “Just turn right at the main road,” he said as they walked outside, “and I’ll give you the rest of the directions on the way.”
Jack sat in a corner table at The Black Swan, sipping an almost-hot cup of coffee. Across the table, sat Elliot’s pale ale. He’d left a few minutes ago to use the loo. Jack offered up a quick prayer of thanks for this unbelievable moment. How could he not? He’d just met his brother. They were about to have their first real conversation. He had at least a thousand questions. He didn’t know where to begin. So much of his thoughts and energy had been spent getting to this moment, he never really prepared for what to do when the opportunity finally arrived.
Elliot came back, slid into his seat and sipped his beer. “Starting to wonder if I shouldn’t have ordered something stronger. Don’t you drink beer?”
“Sometimes. This time of day I’m more interested in coffee.”
“You Yanks and your coffee.”
“You Brits and your tea.”
Elliot smiled. “Even that, you’re an American. I have so many questions. I don’t know where to begin.”
“I feel the same way. Of course, I’m not in the same state of shock as you. I’ve known about you for a few months now. Well, about your existence, but hardly any details. But I do remember how I felt that first day when I found out, and that you were over here in England. I knew right then, I had to come.”
“How did you find out? What were you told all this time?”
Jack took another sip of his coffee. “I wasn’t told anything. There was never even a thought that I might have a sibling. My mom had died before I was old enough to remember her. That’s what I was told. I always assumed it was just my dad and me, and that he never remarried. But that kind of made sense, considering his condition.”
“His condition?” Elliot said.
“He’s crippled. He’s been in a wheelchair ever since the Great War. This part of the story, I’m almost positive is true. He was injured in an airplane crash. He was a fighter pilot. I’ve seen the pictures.”
“I was told that, too,” Elliot said. “Only I was told he died in the crash. And not just by my grandfather—our grandfather—but by my mother, as well.” He paused, looked out the window. “That means…she lied to me, too.” He sat back. His expression changed to deep sadness. “That’s a bit hard to take. I have no trouble believing my grandfather would do such a thing. But not her.”
This was so strange, hearing Elliot talk about his mother as someone other than Jack’s mother. He meant nothing by it. But it was still strange. This whole thing was so hard to sort out. “Renée said she didn’t think you were that close with your grandfather. Well, our grandfather. Guess we should stop correcting each other this way.”
“She’s right. He and I are not close. For a number of reasons. Maybe in another conversation I’ll share some of them with you. But this. Finding out this. It changes everything. My mother may have cooperated with the lie, but I have no doubt who came up with this scheme, and then manipulated everyone involved. I’m sure Grandfather forced her into it. Likely, our father too. My grandfather was a ruthless man. Still is. Although his po
wer over others has deteriorated a great deal in recent years.”
Jack set his coffee cup down. “That’s the scenario I’ve imagined, when I’ve tried to think this through. Someone had to set this terrible scheme in motion. It has to be him.”
“Oh, believe me,” Elliot said. “It’s him.”
“I’m finding it hard not to hate the man,” Jack said.
“I understand,” Elliot said. “But right now? I’m not finding it hard at all.”
33
The barkeep had just left their table, after bringing Elliot another ale and refilling Jack’s coffee cup. He could tell from the first sip that it had come from the same pot as before. A little less hot and a little more bitter. For the last fifteen minutes, Jack had provided Elliot with a thumbnail sketch of his life. He didn’t have to skip over much. There just wasn’t that much to tell.
Elliot seemed particularly upset by the topic they had just started discussing. He was clearly shocked to learn how poor they were and that they always had been, throughout Jack’s childhood. Jack pointed out that America had just gone through a great depression, and that everyone he knew was equally poor. Add to that, their father being stuck in a wheelchair.
“That isn’t it,” Elliot said. “You don’t understand.” His face had suddenly grown angry.
“What am I not understanding?”
“This is more of Grandfather’s doing. His way of controlling…our father. I’m sure of it.”
Jack still wasn’t clear on what Elliot was saying.
“He could have done so much more for him, for you. So much more.”
“What are you saying?”
“I want to hear it from his own lips,” Elliot said, “but I’m pretty sure I’ve figured out what the scheme was. At least the money part of it.”
Jack decided not to respond, to see if Elliot just needed more time to work through what he was trying to say.
“It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
Jack took another sip of coffee.
“You said our father wanted to tell you more about what happened, but he seemed afraid to?”
“Not exactly what I said, but that’s pretty close. I got the impression he wasn’t allowed to say more. He said if I wanted to find out any of the details, I’d have to come here to get them myself.”
“Don’t you see?” Elliot said. “Grandfather was paying him an allowance all this time. A pittance compared to what he could have provided. But he took advantage of our father’s condition, that he could no longer work because of his injuries. And I’m sure he made one of the conditions for Father to keep receiving this money was that he accepted the arrangement, and kept his mouth shut all this time.”
“He purchased his silence?” Jack said.
“Exactly.”
Now that made sense.
Elliot sipped his ale. “Jack, I am so sorry you and Father were treated so poorly. If you could only see the wealth, the provision that could have been put at your disposal all this time. It’s a travesty.”
The picture was beginning to become clear. After all, grandfather was an Earl. Hoity-toity, as Joe would say. At this point, Jack didn’t care so much about the poverty he’d grown up with. He was more aware of how strange it sounded to hear Elliot call their dad “Father.” Jack never called him that. It sounded far too proper.
Elliot continued. “Of course, Grandfather’s wealth is a fraction of what it used to be. But back in the day, back when our parents were young and clearly in love, the estate was booming. I can just imagine what must’ve happened.”
Now, so could Jack. “Dad was absolutely the wrong kind of guy for our mother to be dating. This daring young fighter pilot from America.”
“It would have been a terrific scandal,” Elliot said. “Grandfather would never have allowed it. Not in a million years. Not now, but certainly not back then.”
“So, they continue to see each other secretly, defying Grandfather’s instructions,” Jack said. “At some point, they elope. Some time goes by. She gets pregnant, with us.”
“And then Father’s plane crashes,” Elliot adds. “Bringing their fantasy romance to a screeching halt. I take it our father didn’t come from a family of means?”
“He had no family,” Jack said. “He grew up in an orphanage.”
“So, no help there. And even more evidence of why Grandfather would have rejected him. And I’m sure back then whatever help the US government provided veterans with profound disabilities was minimal.”
Jack agreed.
“With Father now chained to a wheelchair, and two twin baby boys to care for, the young couple would have been forced to turn to Grandfather for help.” Elliot was looking out the window, as if imagining the entire scenario unfolding in his mind. “They would have been at his mercy.” He looked back at Jack. “And Grandfather was not a merciful man.”
My gosh, Jack thought. He suddenly realized what must have come next. “You think he came up with the idea of splitting us up? One of us going with Dad back to America, and one of us staying here?”
“Very possibly,” Elliot said. “Although, I can imagine that wasn’t his first offer. My guess is, he would’ve suggested Father go home to America empty-handed and leave both of us here to be raised on the estate.”
Jack instantly knew, his dad would never have agreed to that. “What a horrible mess. I can’t imagine being forced to make such a choice.”
“No,” Elliot said, “but sadly, I can easily see Grandfather forcing them into such a position, to where they had no choice but to do as he demanded.”
Neither said anything for a few moments. Jack suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of compassion for his Dad. All the anger and bitterness he’d been keeping inside since learning of the great family secret simply dissolved.
Jack finally broke the silence. “So, what was your childhood like, being brought up on a proper British estate? What’s Grandfather’s title again?”
“Earl of Bainbridge. It’s a beautiful, majestic place. Like so many of the British Manor homes. Bigger than some, smaller than others. I forget how many rooms it has. Of course, it’s been on a steady decline for years. He’s had to let go of more than half the staff. And because of some of the foolish choices and allegiances Grandfather made in the years leading up to this war, I fear it will not survive long after the war ends.”
“What do you mean… foolish allegiances?”
“It’s all very complicated, but to put it simply… Grandfather backed the Nazis. He was pro-Hitler. He may still be, I don’t know.”
“You’re kidding?”
“I wish I was. Like I said, it’s more complex than what it sounds. A lot of the aristocracy backed Hitler. At least up until he invaded Poland. But of course, they are all paying for it now and will pay for it even more once Hitler is defeated.”
Jack found this news alarming and disturbing, although he was glad to hear Elliot speak of Hitler’s defeat. “So, what do you think, Elliot? Can Hitler be defeated?”
Elliot took another sip of ale and leaned back in his seat. “He has to be, Jack. For all our sakes. Although, the work I’m doing now, as we prepare for the invasion, is to help prepare a counterattack should his invasion be successful.”
“A counterattack. You mean, if England is defeated? Is that a real possibility?”
“It’s up to your lot, Jack, to see that it doesn’t happen. Whether or not Hitler invades has everything to do with whether the RAF can stop the Luftwaffe in the air. I’m sure you heard what Churchill called it on the radio last week, The Battle of Britain. That’s where the next big battle will take place. Not on the homeland, but in the air. If you boys don’t stop him, the Nazi’s will invade England.”
When Jack got back to the base, he went looking for Joe. Finally found him chatting with some mechanics working on his plane. “Joe,” he yelled. “Can I grab you for a minute?” He tried to keep his expression as normal as possible.
“Sure. Excus
e me, guys. Just do what you’re planning. Sounds good to me.” Joe ran over to Jack, standing in the hangar doorway. “So, what’s up? Who’d your visitor turn out to be?”
“You’re never going to believe who I just spent the last couple of hours with.”
Joe thought a moment. “Your brother?”
“How’d you know?”
“Easy. You don’t have any friends off this base but me.”
“I do, too.”
“Name one.”
Jack couldn’t. “Alright you win. But isn’t that crazy? That girl I told you about, my brother’s girlfriend? She set it up. He drove all the way from London to see me.”
“He look a lot like you?”
“Like looking in a mirror almost. But it was so weird. We were raised so differently. It was like talking to a stranger. He’s a Major. Sounds like he’s working in intelligence. Said he really couldn’t talk about what he did.”
“Did he know anything about you? Did you find out anything about your England-side of the family?”
Jack was just about to answer, when Joe blurted out another question.
“Wait, tell me first. He was hoity-toity, like I said, right?”
Jack smiled and nodded. “You could definitely say that.”
“So what now, are you rich? I mean, if you’re brother’s for real, then you’re hoity-toity too, right?”
“No Joe. I’m not rich. And by the sound of it, the hoity-toity side of the family isn’t doing so well these days.” Jack spent the next twenty minutes filling Joe in on the details.
34
August 14th, 1940
Middle Wallop Airfield
Almost seven weeks had passed since Jack had that first meeting with Elliot. The plan from that point—which didn’t happen—was for them to meet several more times over the next few months to get to know each other better, and to fill in many of the blanks they both had about each other’s story.
During the first two weeks, Elliot had been the problem, which gave Jack the opportunity to experience Renée’s dilemma. On both occasions, Jack had gotten leave and drove all the way to London, only to have his brother not show up. Although, his frustration had been significantly reduced both times when he’d contacted Renée, and she had been able to see him.
