happened on the airfield. Briefly, she wondered whether to ask him, but dismissed the idea. Andrew would tell her in his own time, if he meant to tell her at all. She knew that there were some things that he would never tell her – things he couldn’t tell her – and she remembered Tubby’s words about secrets.
She’d been disappointed that so far the rotund pilot hadn’t taken up her invitation to come and see her. He’d been to the cottage once or twice, with Andrew and some of the other pilots, but she had never had a chance to be alone with him, to ask him if the nightmare was still with him or if, with the change of airfield, it might have receded. She’d tried to catch his eye the last time he’d been here, but he’d simply grinned cheerily at her, as if there had never been any conversation between them, and she’d known that she couldn’t introduce the subject. It had to be left to Tubby himself.
She picked up one of the jars of jam. ‘Next year, I’ll make more. And bottle some fruit, too. I was thinking, Andrew, we could dig up the back garden and grow our own food. It’s what we’re supposed to be doing anyway, isn’t it? Digging for Victory. D’you suppose the owners would mind?’
‘I could find out.’ He kissed her and drew her into the living room. The edge was still in his voice, and she could feel the tension in his body. ‘What are you thinking of growing? And who’s going to be doing all the digging? I can’t promise that I—’
‘No, I know you couldn’t do that,’ she said quickly. ‘You don’t get enough time at home as it is.’ Andrew was only able to come home in the evenings, and seldom even stayed all night. ‘May says her grandfather will come and dig it over for me, and after that I’ll be able to manage it for myself. He’ll tell me what to plant and when.’
‘You seem to have made some good friends there,’ Andrew observed, throwing himself into a chair and pulling her on to his lap. ‘You’ll have to take me along to meet them sometime soon.’
‘They’d like that. They really appreciate what you and the others are doing, you know, even though the airfield has made life rather noisy for them.’ She rested against him. ‘Is anyone else coming round tonight? Tubby, or the new ones?’
‘No, I thought we’d have some time to ourselves.’ His arms tightened around her. ‘I don’t get enough time with you to want to share you every evening. I just want a quiet few hours on our own, like an old married couple.’
‘That’s lovely.’ She wished he would talk to her, tell her what was wrong. There was something she needed to tell him, too, but she couldn’t do it while there was this hidden tension between them. She made her voice bright. ‘Just what I want, too. And I’ll let Hughie stay up a bit later than usual – it’s lovely for him to have his daddy at home.’ She leaned her head on his shoulder. ‘I was wondering today if we should have a party at the weekend, if there aren’t any alarms. What do you think?’
Andrew paused for a moment before answering, then nodded. ‘Yes. It’s a good idea. These new youngsters, Hazelwood and Sinclair, could do with a bit of a breather. They’ve been practising with the Typhoons till their ears drop off.’ He frowned. ‘The chaps aren’t all that keen on this new plane, you know. There’ve been a lot of problems with it – carbon monoxide in the cockpit, for a start, just as if it weren’t already too hot inside, and quite a few engine failures. They’ll get sorted out eventually, I know, but we feel a bit like guinea pigs at the moment. Still, it’s good to be flying a fighter-bomber at last. Gives us the best of both worlds.’
Alison heard this with some disquiet. Andrew usually kept problems like this to himself. Perhaps he was aware that she knew there was something wrong, and hoped to distract her with talk of difficulties with the new aircraft. She decided not to comment and
She’d been disappointed that so far the rotund pilot hadn’t taken up her invitation to come and see her. He’d been to the cottage once or twice, with Andrew and some of the other pilots, but she had never had a chance to be alone with him, to ask him if the nightmare was still with him or if, with the change of airfield, it might have receded. She’d tried to catch his eye the last time he’d been here, but he’d simply grinned cheerily at her, as if there had never been any conversation between them, and she’d known that she couldn’t introduce the subject. It had to be left to Tubby himself.
She picked up one of the jars of jam. ‘Next year, I’ll make more. And bottle some fruit, too. I was thinking, Andrew, we could dig up the back garden and grow our own food. It’s what we’re supposed to be doing anyway, isn’t it? Digging for Victory. D’you suppose the owners would mind?’
‘I could find out.’ He kissed her and drew her into the living room. The edge was still in his voice, and she could feel the tension in his body. ‘What are you thinking of growing? And who’s going to be doing all the digging? I can’t promise that I—’
‘No, I know you couldn’t do that,’ she said quickly. ‘You don’t get enough time at home as it is.’ Andrew was only able to come home in the evenings, and seldom even stayed all night. ‘May says her grandfather will come and dig it over for me, and after that I’ll be able to manage it for myself. He’ll tell me what to plant and when.’
‘You seem to have made some good friends there,’ Andrew observed, throwing himself into a chair and pulling her on to his lap. ‘You’ll have to take me along to meet them sometime soon.’
‘They’d like that. They really appreciate what you and the others are doing, you know, even though the airfield has made life rather noisy for them.’ She rested against him. ‘Is anyone else coming round tonight? Tubby, or the new ones?’
‘No, I thought we’d have some time to ourselves.’ His arms tightened around her. ‘I don’t get enough time with you to want to share you every evening. I just want a quiet few hours on our own, like an old married couple.’
‘That’s lovely.’ She wished he would talk to her, tell her what was wrong. There was something she needed to tell him, too, but she couldn’t do it while there was this hidden tension between them. She made her voice bright. ‘Just what I want, too. And I’ll let Hughie stay up a bit later than usual – it’s lovely for him to have his daddy at home.’ She leaned her head on his shoulder. ‘I was wondering today if we should have a party at the weekend, if there aren’t any alarms. What do you think?’
Andrew paused for a moment before answering, then nodded. ‘Yes. It’s a good idea. These new youngsters, Hazelwood and Sinclair, could do with a bit of a breather. They’ve been practising with the Typhoons till their ears drop off.’ He frowned. ‘The chaps aren’t all that keen on this new plane, you know. There’ve been a lot of problems with it – carbon monoxide in the cockpit, for a start, just as if it weren’t already too hot inside, and quite a few engine failures. They’ll get sorted out eventually, I know, but we feel a bit like guinea pigs at the moment. Still, it’s good to be flying a fighter-bomber at last. Gives us the best of both worlds.’
Alison heard this with some disquiet. Andrew usually kept problems like this to himself. Perhaps he was aware that she knew there was something wrong, and hoped to distract her with talk of difficulties with the new aircraft. She decided not to comment and
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