Read Online Two Blackbirds by Garry Ryan - Free Book Online Page A

ground.
    The landing was smooth, and she taxied over to a hangar where two other camouflaged jets were parked outside.
    After handing over the aircraft, she made her way to the mess, where she caught the scent of frying bacon. Inside, she sat down at a table with a cup of coffee and a plate of bacon and scrambled eggs. She expected to be left alone to eat and was not disappointed.
    One egg later, a man sat down beside her. Just eat your meal, drink your coffee, and look straight ahead.
    â€œHow was your first trip in the Meteor?” Michael asked.
    She turned, caught the smile on her husband’s face, and threw her arms around his neck. He pulled her in close and she savoured the scent of him.
    â€œWhat are you doing here?” Sharon asked.
    â€œI know the squadron leader and was asked to come here to have a chat. So, you know, a call here and there, and here we are.” Michael looked at her half-eaten meal. “I’m famished. Mind if I join you? These RAF types still get the best food.”
    A few minutes later, he sat down next to her and tucked into bacon and eggs. “Next best thing to being at home in my mother’s kitchen.”
    Sharon nodded as she folded a piece of bacon in a slice of toast.
    â€œI hear you’re considering moving back to Canada after the war.” Michael tried to make the comment seem offhand, but he failed.
    â€œIt was a suggestion by Rupert McGregor. He thinks that it’s an option worth considering. He brought it up when I met with him the end of June.” Sharon put her elbows on the table.
    â€œApparently, Sean thinks it’s a fait accompli. My mother wrote me a letter. She’s in a panic and assumes we’re leaving within the month.”
    Sharon took a deep breath and looked around at the pilots there. Soon after the invasion, there was hope that the war would be over by Christmas. The reality was settling in. “Look, I should have mentioned it to you, but I haven’t seen you in over a month. Yes, I’ve thought about it, especially lately. I’m so tired of the war. And this morning. . .”
    â€œThis morning?” Michael put his knife and fork on the plate.
    â€œI flew over the Falais Gap. The smell was, well, it was. . .”
    â€œIndescribable?”
    Sharon nodded and felt tears in her eyes. Don’t you dare cry!
    â€œAnd it will probably get worse before it gets better,” Michael added, looking at the pieces of bacon left on his plate — treats he’d saved for the end of the meal.
    â€œWhat’s that supposed to mean?” She leaned in closer.
    He dropped his voice. “More reports have been coming in. Something the Nazis call the Final Solution.”
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œElimination of Jews in all occupied territories.” Michael leaned his chin on his fists.
    â€œMass deportations?” Sharon asked.
    â€œExtermination.”
    The word hung over the table. It reminded Sharon of the stink of death rising over Falais that morning.
    An hour into the car ride to White Waltham, Sharon broke the silence. “I’m sorry, I should have let you know what the lawyer said to us.”
    â€œWe’re almost at Chertsey. Like to stop for tea?” Michael smiled as he added, “It’s been impossible for both of us. The bloody war is always getting in the way. I just keep hoping that we’re near the end and then can lead some kind of normal life afterward.”
    â€œThat would be nice. It seems like it’s still a long way away. Think they’ll have some coffee?”
    They stopped at one end of a stone bridge that stepped its arches over the River Thames. In the late-day sunshine, the grass was greener, the river sparkled, and the stonework on the bridge was etched with shadow.
    â€œWhat’s that?” Sharon pointed at the statue of a woman holding the clapper of a bell.
    â€œBlanche Heriot.” Michael pulled over and stopped