Elizabeth Elgin - Whisper on the Wind

She reached up and pulled his head to her own, closing her eyes, parting her lips for his kiss. As he kissed her, she lifted the hand she had touched with her lips and placed it beneath her blouse to rest on her warm, wanting breast.

‘Love me?’ she murmured, drawing him closer. ‘Please love me?’ Her body strained nearer and she felt the first stirrings of his need, heard the sharp indrawing of his breath. ‘Remember this morning, Paul? Remember Jock, who’d never lived? I haven’t lived either, and I want you …’

He said no, that they shouldn’t. They’d be sorry, he said, after. But his protests held no substance against the force of her need and she kissed away the last of his doubts.

‘I’ll never be sorry.’ She slipped open the buttons of her blouse, closing her eyes as his lips touched the hollow at her throat then slid, searching, to her breasts. ‘Never in a million years …’

Their first loving was a sweet, surprised discovering, a setting free, a soaring delight. It was tender and caring; a coupling without pain or passion. They lay side by side afterwards, breathing unevenly, glad of the darkness.

‘There are a lot of stars up there.’ She was the first to speak. ‘And a moon.’

‘It’s a new one; a wishing moon.’

Presently she said, ‘Was it the first time, Paul?’

‘Yes.’

‘For me, too. I love you.’

Her love would keep him safe. Now it would always be a part of him. It would wrap him round and keep him from harm, where ever he was, however far.

‘Roz – I shouldn’t have said what I did. Everybody’s afraid, some time or other. It was Jock, you see …’

‘I know, my love. Nothing will hurt you again.’

‘God, but I love you so.’ He gathered her to him, his cheek on her hair. ‘I’ll always love you.’

The hay smelled sweet of a summer past and a summer yet to come.

She had given him back the courage he had feared lost, and he was a man again.

And he was hers, now, for all time.

It was not until the last of the milk had been delivered, the last empty bottle collected, that Roz said:

‘He’s flying again.’ The words came reluctantly, angrily. ‘After what happened two nights ago, Paul was on ops again last night.’

‘But I thought – didn’t you say their plane was a write-off? And surely they can’t fly without a gunner?’

‘They didn’t need to. Jock’s replacement arrived yesterday morning. As soon as Paul told me, I got a nasty feeling inside.’ And cold, frightening fingers tracing the length of her backbone. ‘Oh, K-King isn’t airworthy; they’ve already removed the engines and wings to make it easier to move. Then they’ll put the whole lot on a transporter and send it back to the factory that made it. It’ll be like a new plane when they’ve finished with it and nobody will ever know that Jock –’

‘Hush, now.’ Kath pulled on the reins, calling the pony to a stop. ‘You mustn’t get upset again. You said yourself that Paul is over his thirteenth op; the unlucky one’s behind him. He’ll be back, all right. Bet everything’s gone just fine. It’s nearly light; we’ll be hearing them soon.’

‘No. They didn’t leave till midnight. It’ll be an hour yet, at least. Unless it’s been France or the Low Countries, which I doubt.’ She shivered then dug her hands into her pockets, hunching into the upturned collar of her coat, holding herself tight against her anger. ‘I thought he’d be all right; when they came back all shot-up I thought at least they’d be given some kind of a break from flying. But no. A crew goes on leave so Paul’s lot take over their plane. Hell, but I’d like a few of those desk-wallahs to have a go. Just one sticky op so they’d know what it’s like. It was inhuman, sending them out again so soon after what happened.’

‘Steady on, Roz. Maybe they had a reason. You know what they say about falling off a horse – that you should get straight back up again? Perhaps that’s why they did it – so they won’t lose their nerve.’

‘Ha!’ Roz clicked her tongue and the pony walked on. ‘And as if that isn’t bad enough, he’s going on leave as soon as they’ve been to debriefing and I won’t see him before he goes, though he’s promised to ring me. Every night, he said, if he can manage to get through.’

‘Then what are you worrying about? Everything’s going to be fine. I heard them go last night, but I didn’t count. How many went?’

‘Nine. I stood at the window. It was a good sky; quite a bit of cloud-cover for them. Oh, Kath. I get sick, just to think about him …’

‘I know, love. I know. Do you want to take Polly’s milk, or shall I?’ Change the subject. Talk about anything but flying. ‘And tell me – why doesn’t the other gate lodge get milk from us? Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen them.’

‘You wouldn’t. She keeps herself to herself. Doesn’t drink cow’s milk – she has her own goat. Bombed out in that first big raid on Manchester, I believe. She’s an artist – does illustrations for advertising, or something. Gran was glad to let her have the lodge. It had been empty for ages.’

‘She’s alone?’

‘Yes, but that isn’t unusual these days.’

‘Suppose not.’ Keep at it. Just don’t let her talk about Paul. ‘What’s she called?’

‘Don’t know, but Arnie calls her the Manchester lady.’

‘Arnie.’ Kath smiled. ‘He’s a great kid.’

‘Hmm.’

‘Polly’s going to miss him when the war’s over.’

‘Yes.’

‘He’s been –’ Kath stopped. She was getting nowhere. ‘Listen, Roz. Paul will be all right and you can’t go on like this, every time he’s flying. Worrying isn’t going to help him – unless there’s something else?’

‘What do you mean?’ Roz jerked out of her apathy. ‘Paul’s flying. Two nights ago they lost their gunner, then crash landed – isn’t that enough? And isn’t the prospect of not seeing him for ten days more than enough?’ she demanded.

So something else was bothering her. She’d been sure of it. All day yesterday Roz had hardly said a word and there had been a tenseness about her, a strangeness.

‘Roz. Are you and –’ None of her business, but somebody had to talk to her about it. ‘Are you and Paul lovers?’ There. She’d said it. She turned her head away, not wanting to see the truth of it in the young girl’s face; turned away from the anger she knew was to come.

‘What the hell has it got to do with you, Kath Allen? Mind your own business – right?’

‘Right!’

They walked in silence along Ridings drive, between the rows of shiny-black, dripping trees. They had almost reached Home Farm when Roz said:

‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I know you were only trying to help. Kath – you can’t get pregnant, can you; not the first time?’

‘They say not, but I wouldn’t bank on it.’ Oh, the silly young thing; so innocent it just wasn’t true. She took a deep breath, trying hard to keep her voice even. ‘But best you don’t take chances, Roz, next time. Maybe when Paul comes back off leave you should have a talk with him about it? They tell men about things like that, I believe, in the Forces. He’ll see that nothing happens.’

‘Yes, I will. I must. Only at the time it seemed so – so right.’

‘I know. And nobody’s blaming you. It had to happen, I suppose, sooner or later. But be careful, Roz.’

Kath sent a jet of water bouncing over the cow-shed floor. ‘Cheer up, Roz. They’re all nine safely back. Aren’t you relieved that Paul has really broken his jinx, now?’

‘Of course I am. I was thinking that he’ll probably be on his way to the station by now. Wish I could have seen him, just for a second; even a wave as they drove past. I’d have settled for that. Wish he’d asked me to go home with him, though. I want so much to meet his family. Paul said his sister was trying to get some leave to be with him. They haven’t seen each other for a year. It must be hard for them, being apart. She and Paul are twins – did I tell you?’