Kate Kingsbury - Death Is in the Air

In spite of the danger, she felt compelled to watch the plane dip lower as the engine coughed and spluttered again, then died altogether. The bomber seemed to be coming right at her, yet her legs refused to move. She felt as if her entire body had turned to ice.

She felt Marlene tug on her arm, heard her screaming something, yet she was powerless to turn away from the awesome sight of the plane drifting silently now above the roofs of the shops along the High Street in the direction of the ocean. Then she saw why Marlene was still pointing at the sky after the bomber had passed over. Floating gently down to earth was the white silky mushroom of a parachute.

The man dangling beneath it swayed to and fro in the sea breeze. Marlene jumped up and down at Elizabeth’s side, still grasping her arm-something she would never do under normal circumstances. A commoner never actually touched the lady of the manor unless it was a matter of life and death. Which it could very well be , Elizabeth thought with remarkable composure as she watched the enemy pilot falling more rapidly now as he neared the ground.

“The silly sod’s going to land on the village green!” Marlene yelled.

At the sound of her words, bedlam erupted inside the hairdresser’s shop. Rita’s booming voice rang out in an attempt to restore order as the women bolted into the street. “Wait, you blithering idiots! We have to capture the prisoner!”

“You bloody capture him!” one woman yelled. “I’m going home and locking myself inside.”

“Rita’s right,” Elizabeth called out, suddenly coming to life. “We can’t let him get away. Get everyone out in the street!” Even as she shouted the words, she could see people spilling out from the shops.

Jack Mitchem rushed out of his butcher’s shop carrying a wicked-looking knife, followed closely by Harold, the greengrocer from next door, who brandished a shovel.

Afraid now that they’d kill the German, Elizabeth started running toward the green. She heard a dull explosion in the distance and guessed the plane had landed on the beach, no doubt on a landmine. The beaches were covered with them in case of an invasion.

The pilot was on the ground now and trying to disentangle himself from the ropes of his parachute. He lifted his head as she drew closer, and she halted.

The German finally freed himself and pulled his flying helmet from his head. Then, to her utter relief, he dropped the helmet on the ground and raised his hands in obvious surrender.

Somewhat subdued, the crowd gathered around the green, encircling the man. Everyone looked at Elizabeth. Even Rita Crumm looked flustered, and she hung back as if waiting for someone to tell her what to do.

Elizabeth drew in a deep breath. Clearly the next move was up to her. As lady of the manor, she was responsible for the welfare of these people. She was in charge until the police arrived. “Someone send for the constables,” she said, keeping her voice calm so as not to alarm the German.

He looked very young and very unsure of himself. She could see his hands shaking as he held them in the air. She just hoped P.C. Dalrymple would arrive on the scene shortly. Already the women were beginning to mutter behind her. Heaven knows what would happen if Rita Crumm took it into her head to lead a charge of her housewives against the poor man.

Marlene arrived at her side at that moment. “He doesn’t look very dangerous,” she said, running her fingers through her impressive mane of red hair. “He’s rather good-looking, actually. I always did fancy blond men.”

“You wouldn’t think so if he was trying to stick a bayonet in your belly,” Jack Mitchem growled.

“Wonder what happened to the rest of his crew,” Harold muttered.

“They’re probably either dead and went down with the plane, or they bailed out earlier on.”

“Gawd, the whole village could be swarming with bloody Nazis.”

Jack raised his knife. “I say we cut those ropes off that parachute and tie him up till George gets here.”

Elizabeth thought that was a good idea. She was just about to say so when Marlene exclaimed, “Look at that parachute! All that lovely silk going to waste.”

Rita’s voice rose sharply from behind her. “Silk? That’s real silk?”

“Too right it is.” Marlene took a step forward. “That would make a lovely wedding dress.”

“And petticoats,” Rita murmured.

“Blouses!” someone else cried.

“Nightdresses!”

“Sheets!”

“Here, it was my idea!” Marlene darted toward the pilot, apparently intent on gathering up the parachute. Just as intent on getting their share, a dozen or more women raced behind her. The German pilot shrieked once then disappeared from view as the women scrambled around him.

“Wait!” Elizabeth called out. “Wait until George gets here. Someone could get hurt.”

Her pleas went unnoticed as more women joined the throng, all squabbling and tearing at the silky folds of the parachute. Elizabeth looked down the hill and saw George pedaling his bike furiously up the slope toward her. Help was on the way.

It took the combined efforts of herself and the two men in the crowd to separate the women and restore order. When it was over there was nothing left of the parachute except a few tangled ropes. Unfortunately, there was no sign of the German pilot either. Apparently he had taken advantage of the confusion and made good his escape.

“Goodness!” Violet exclaimed after listening to Elizabeth’s breathless account of the incident. “I heard on the radio that German planes fly over now and then, but I never thought I’d see one land in Sitting Marsh.”

“It didn’t exactly land,” Elizabeth said. Seated at the ancient table in the kitchen of the Manor House, she took comfort in the cup of tea Violet had poured for her. Her hands still shook from all the excitement as she replaced her cup in its saucer. “It was more of a crash landing, and I think it blew up on the beach.”

Violet carried her own cup over to the table and sat down opposite her. “I heard the explosion, but I thought it was a seagull landing on a mine. Where do you think the German went, then?”

“I have no idea, but I think if it were me I’d have made a beeline for the woods. Goodness, is that the time? I had no idea it was so late.”

Violet followed her gaze to the mantelpiece clock above the huge fireplace that had once housed an oven and had served as the only means of cooking meals. The Manor House had been built early in the seventeenth century, and except for the addition of modern plumbing and electricity, remained much the same as it had been for three centuries. The kitchen, with its huge bay windows and warm brick walls, was one of Elizabeth’s favorite rooms.

“I was getting quite worried about you.” Violet gave her a critical stare. “I told you not to go down to that shop. You should have waited for Marlene to come up here.”

Elizabeth patted her hair. “I was beginning to look straggly.”

“Looked fine to me.” Violet got up from the table and picked up the cups and saucers. “Did you get it cut after all that?”

Elizabeth frowned. “Can’t you tell?”

“Not really. I could have done a better job than that.”

“No doubt you could, but I didn’t want to bother you. Now that you have all this extra work with the American officers moving into the east wing, you have your hands full.” It was a good excuse, and one Elizabeth felt comfortable using. To her relief, Violet seemed pacified by her words.

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” she said, dismissing the suggestion with a wave of her hand. “Polly has been working pretty hard.”

Elizabeth looked at her in surprise. Usually Violet didn’t have a good word to say about the young housemaid. “Polly? I’m happy to hear that.”