Heartwarming and emotional story of one girl's courage in WW2, Fenella Miller [best pdf ebook reader for android TXT] 📗

have to manage with an empty oil can. This sort of thing was easier for a man. Another one of life’s disappointments.

‘This will have to do. I’ll move your car somewhere more sensible and leave you to it.’ She was about to close the door when something occurred to her. ‘Do you need help with anything?’ She kept her fingers crossed that he didn’t.

‘Sod off, Ellie, I’ll call you when I’m finished.’

There was plenty to get on with outside. Fortunately, no one else was working today, but someone had booked a three-hour jaunt in the de Havilland this afternoon. At some point this morning she would have to taxi the aircraft out onto the strip and do a quick pre-flight check. It would also need refuelling. She’d no idea where the pilot intended to take the plane as he hadn’t filed his flight plan.

A plan wasn’t strictly necessary, but a sensible precaution. Before any aircraft left the airfield, Joe insisted he knew exactly where they were going and that the pilot was quite clear where he could land in an emergency. Flying out to sea was strictly forbidden. She supposed the company rules didn’t apply to relatives.

Petrol was delivered in large cans every week from the local garage. These were kept in a separate building far enough away from the hangar that in the event of a fire nothing else would go up in flames. The Moth had to be taken to the fuel and not the other way around.

How long would it take Jack to pee in the can? He should be finished by now and it would be safe to go back and remove it. She’d given it to him with the lid so at least she wouldn’t have to view the contents or get it all over her hands when she carried it out.

Moving the car to a more sensible parking place took her ten minutes. She noticed there was a rug on the back seat so she grabbed that and took it with her. Even if he didn’t want it over him he could use it to lean on and make himself more comfortable.

Despite the seriousness of the situation she couldn’t help smiling. If Jack was anything like either of her brothers he’d be squirming in embarrassment. It wouldn’t do any harm. In her opinion he was far too full of himself.

She paused on the top step. ‘Is it safe to come in?’

‘Yes.’

He was nursing the half full container between his knees. Hastily she rammed on the lid making sure she didn’t make eye contact. ‘I’ll just get rid of this and then get on with the search.’

The contents slopped about inside; it was surprisingly heavy. She wasn’t going to do any more at the moment than put it somewhere outside where no one else would inadvertently open it. He could dispose of it himself when he was better.

When she returned to the office he was looking a lot brighter but still far too pale. She added the rug to the one he was already covered in and he didn’t complain. ‘I know you don’t want to go to the hospital but how do you propose to get to your friend? You can’t even stand up and I certainly can’t move you on my own.’

‘Hand me the telephone and I’ll make the arrangements myself. You get on with your search.’

He was far too fond of issuing orders but this time she would let it go as he was probably feeling really rotten about everything.

When he was connected Jack didn’t give any details about his injury, just asking for whoever it was to come immediately to collect him. She returned the telephone to the table and continued rummaging through the newspapers.

‘Will your friend be here soon? Do I need to have finished this before he gets here?’

‘He’s coming from London. Please try and find it. I can’t leave knowing whatever it is might still be here and those bastards will be coming back for it.’

She resumed her task and was beginning to think it a wasted effort when a long brown envelope slipped out of the paper she was flicking through.

‘I’ve found it.’ She looked around expecting him to be sharing her relief but he was either asleep or unconscious and didn’t react. She pushed her find into her slacks’ pocket, quickly re-stacked the newspapers and replaced them on the shelf.

‘Jack, Jack,’ she squeezed his good arm but got no response. She checked his pulse; it was no weaker than before and still regular, but this time he wasn’t just dozing but unconscious. This couldn’t be a good sign. Could he have internal injuries from his fall? If his friend didn’t arrive in the next ten minutes she was going to ring for an ambulance and he would just have to jolly well lump it.

Her bandages were still in place and neither wound was bleeding heavily enough to discolour them. She hoped she was worrying unnecessarily and that he was just deeply asleep. There wasn’t any blood on the floor – it had all soaked into his clothes. There must be some on the wall behind him but she couldn’t do anything about that now. It would have to be cleaned when he had gone.

Should she cancel the man bringing his girlfriend for a joyride? What if the man with the gun came back? She’d given her word she wouldn’t talk about what had happened to anyone, otherwise she would ring Dad and ask him to come over.

Now she was being ridiculous – he would be somewhere on the farm and she could hardly tell her mother why she wanted him so urgently.

Then the welcome sound of a powerful car approaching made the decision for her. She was about to rush out to greet the driver when it occurred to her it could be someone else looking for the paper and not Jack’s friend. There wasn’t much she could do about it apart from hand over the