Death In England by David Hough

Author:David Hough
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Whiskey Creek Press
Published: 2015-08-20T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Two days later Susanne came to Plymouth station to see him leave. Her eyes were filled with tears as he held her close to him, two young people lost amongst the crowds thronging the platform.

“I always get emotional at this time of the month,” she whispered. She glanced up at him as if waiting for a response, as if hoping he understood the underlying message.

He smiled back at her. “Thank God you’re not pregnant,” he replied and heaved a long, low sigh of relief. They hadn’t found another opportunity to make love, but the memory of that one occasion would stay with him for a very long time.

He continued to hold her tightly until the train was due to leave. At the last moment he kissed her one more time before leaping aboard the train as it started to pull away. He leaned from the door’s open window and watched her waving to him until the station was out of sight.

Once again the carriage was crowded and he spent most of the journey sitting on his kit bag in the corridor. Outside, a new fall of snow covered the landscape all along the line. At Bath Spa station he climbed down onto the slushy platform and looked around for a familiar face. He saw none, so he shouldered his kit bag, went down to street level and boarded a bus.

He could scarcely contain his excitement. “It’s the first step on the ladder, dad,” he silently told his father. He leaned against the bus window and formed the words in the solitude of his mind. “I’m now a Leading Aircraftsman and I’m about to start my flying training. I’ll make you proud of me, you wait and see.” He grinned and nodded his head in self-approval. It was one of those days when the world seemed to be rotating in the right direction and all his best stars were coming into alignment.

Grey slush was heaped into mounds at the sides of the road and ghostly fields stretched out beyond the hedgerows. The bus jerked suddenly as it slid on an icy bend while climbing a steep hill out of the city. The engine screamed. Eddie floundered and grabbed at the seat in front. Other passengers cried out and continued shouting until the driver regained control of the road.

“Sorry folks,” the young female conductor shouted. “Lady driver, not used to this sort of weather. The men have gone off to war, playing havoc with tanks. All we get to mess around with is a bus.”

The joke fell flat and no one laughed as the dirty single-deck vehicle wound its way on up the winding road, the gear box complaining loudly. Eddie glanced round, still looking for a friendly face, wondering if any of the other airmen would recognize him.

I must have been grinning like a Cheshire cat just before the bus wheels slipped.

Grinning? That was a silly thing to do because he was being prepared for his role in the war machine.

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