A Pair of Silver Wings by James Holland

Author:James Holland [Holland, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780099436461
Publisher: Random House
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Malta – June, 1995

There was nothing left of Takali, except for rows of post-war Nissen huts. The airfield had ceased to exist; at one end, where dispersal had stood, a football stadium had been built instead. They stopped, looked around, trying to remember where the pens and maintenance pits had once been, but the place had changed too much. Edward was glad it had gone, but it made him feel old.

‘Come on,’ said Lucky. ‘Let’s go to Mdina.’

Lucky was talking as they drove up the road towards Rabat, but Edward was not listening. It was now, more than at any point since his return to Malta, that the passage of time seemed to have melted. Gazing out of the window, the warm air buffeting his face, he looked up at the imposing bastions of Mdina, dominated by the dome of its cathedral, bleached and stark against the deep blue sky. And – yes – there was the Xara Palace; he could actually see the balcony, that place where they spent so many hours; where they watched the battles raging over Takali. This road, too – he sighed. How many times had he trod this route, up and down, back and forth? How many dawns had spread over the Island as they trudged sleepily down towards the airfield? How many evenings had he seen the lengthening shadows across the road stretch and disappear entirely at the end of another long day? It was such a small passage of his life – six months only – and yet now he could recall so much so very clearly. Even sitting in Lucky’s car, the wind in his face, took him back to that first time in the bus, that hopeless, rickety old bus, with its blown windows and grinding gears. Edward smiled to himself.

Lucky turned the car up a short, steep incline, past the Pointe de Vue – ah, yes, there were pilots housed there too – and into the main square of Rabat.

‘OK,’ said Lucky. ‘Let’s go. Only residents or tradesmen are allowed to drive into Mdina. It’s not quite the Silent City it used to be, but it’s still a damn sight quieter than most places.’ They ambled slowly over the bridge and through the city gate. The narrow streets were cool where dark shadows protected them from the glare of the sun.

‘It hasn’t changed at all,’ said Edward, staring up at the high walls and stone windows, and baskets of vibrant bougainvillaea. ‘It really is exactly as I remember.’ He grinned at Lucky, glad to have somebody to share this moment with. They turned down a side street and emerged into a courtyard. Workmen’s trucks and building materials filled one side of the square, but facing them, unmistakably, were the columns, ornate cornicing and elegant windows of the Xara Palace.

‘Do you think we can see inside?’ Edward asked.

‘I’m sure we can.’

A workman told them to speak to the foreman. ‘He’s inside somewhere,’ he said, then looking at them said, ‘OK, I’ll show you.

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