The Iron Storm CW Browning (moboreader .TXT) 📖

while Miles undid his straps and climbed out of the cockpit.

“About time you showed up!” Chris called. “I came in on fumes, so I know you must have been low on fuel!”

“Nothing to be worried about,” Miles retorted, jumping off the wing of his plane. He glanced over at the ground crew sergeant who was busy putting chucks in front of the wheels. “She’ll need refueling,” he called. “And check the undercarriage handle, will you? It was a bit sticky when I came in.”

“Yes, sir!”

Miles turned away and stripped off his gloves as he fell into step beside Chris. “I’ll be glad to have my lunch,” he said with a jaw-cracking yawn. “I’m starving.”

“We’re the last ones back, it looks like. Here’s hoping there’s still some lunch left!”

They started across the field, heading towards the buildings in the distance. Their boots trudged through the ankle high course grass and Miles inhaled, tilting his head back to let the sun warm his face.

“The new kids aren’t half bad,” Chris said after a moment. “The one almost took my tail off when we were coming in, but all in all, they’re not bad.”

“They’re not good, either,” Miles said with a quick grin. “Did you see them land yesterday? They bounced along like pogo sticks. It was embarrassing to watch.”

Chris chuckled. “They’ll figure it out. Just give them time.”

“If we have time. Who knows how long before Herr Hitler goes for France.” Miles undid his jacket and loosened the silk scarf around his neck. “Do you know they only have twenty hours on Spits? Both of them?”

“There was a time when we only had twenty hours of flying time, you know. Everyone has to start somewhere.”

“Yes, but we didn’t start in the middle of a war, dear boy.”

“Well, we’re lucky that way.” Chris shrugged. “Twenty hours isn’t a lot, I’ll grant you, but they’ll be just fine. We’ll get them some flying time and by the time Jerry comes, they’ll be ready.”

“I hope so.”

“Say, how’s your ASO?” Chris asked after a few moments of silence. “Is she still at Northolt?”

“Yes.”

“Well, when do we all get to meet her? As far as I can tell, Rob’s the only one who has.”

“Well, he is her brother. It’d be rather strange if he hadn’t,” Miles said wryly. “But if you think I’m stupid enough to let her anywhere near you, you’re barmy. I’m no fool.”

“Me? What’s wrong with me?” Chris asked with a grin, his blue eyes sparkling.

“You’re American.”

“Yes, I know. What’s wrong with that?”

“You’re different and exotic. Evelyn only ever sees Englishmen. I don’t want her thinking that you’re new and exciting, and that New York seems like a better place to live than Yorkshire.”

“Boston,” Chris corrected him with a laugh. “I’m from Boston, not New York. And I thought Rob said they were from Lancashire, wherever that is.”

“They are.” Miles glanced at him. “I’m from Yorkshire.”

“Oho! So that’s how it is, is it?” Chris clapped him on the back of his shoulder. “She must be one hell of a girl to get you thinking about settling down. Congratulations!”

“A little premature, Yank. There hasn’t been any discussion of that, yet.”

“Yet.” Chris grinned “Now you can’t get out of introducing us to her, you know. If you’re going to try to shackle yourself to her for the rest of your life, we have a right to offer our opinions.”

“What on earth makes you think that your opinion will make an ounce of difference to me?”

“I don’t, but it won’t stop us all from giving it, especially Slippy.”

Miles grimaced. “Good Lord, can’t we lock him up in a hangar somewhere?”

“Afraid not. He’s one of us, you know. If she’s going to stick with you, she needs to know just what she’s getting herself into.”

Miles smiled. “Oh, I think she knows already.”

“Poor girl. She doesn’t stand a chance, does she?” Chris laughed as they stepped onto the paved road in front of the officer’s mess. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

“Well you’ll have to, I’m afraid. She said in her letter this morning that she’s off training somewhere in the south-west. Near Cornwall, I think.”

“She travels a lot, doesn’t she?”

“Yes. It’s part of her job, y’know. All terribly hush-hush.”

“Does she like it?”

“She seems to.” Miles reached out and pulled open the door to the officer’s building. “I think she gets tired, though.”

“Don’t we all.” Chris followed him into the building and pulled off his hat, turning to head off in the direction of the restrooms. “I’ll see you in there.”

Miles nodded and turned to go towards the dining room, the affable smile on his face fading. Yes, they were all getting tired, but where they were getting tired of waiting for the war to finally get started, he had a feeling that Evelyn was getting tired from all the traveling she was forced to do. It had to be wearing her down, traveling all over England and Scotland, never staying long in one place. Even when she was home at Northolt, it was rarely for more than a week or so, and then she was off again. He thought of the haunted look in her eyes the last time he’d seen her. She had been tired, but also something else. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

His Evelyn that he’d met in the hallway at Ainsworth Manor seven months ago had changed. She wasn’t the same young woman she’d been that day in October. Oh, she still looked the same, and laughed the same, but something fundamental had changed. Something down inside her had tempered the light in her eyes, and she wasn’t as quick to laugh at the folly of life anymore. Miles sighed silently. Perhaps the war was changing her. He supposed it was inevitable that it would change them all in the end. He had no illusion that they would all get out of this unscathed. War demanded a high toll from those who were forced to be part of it, and perhaps Evelyn