The Final Flight James Blatch (e book reading free .TXT) 📖

a silver case, opened to reveal about twenty filter tipped cigarettes.

“Thank you.” Rob took a cigarette and a box of matches from the engraved case.

He took a seat in an armchair; JR perched on the end of his bed.

“What are the chances that you could replicate the trip to Abingdon with me on board?”

JR thought about it. “I don’t see why not, but it’s risky. A lot could have gone wrong and Millie could have ended up in very deep water. Are you happy to take that risk, even in this febrile atmosphere at West Porton?” JR raised his eyebrows.

“Yes. I am.”

“Well, we’ve still got the Anson; but I fear it’s in a few pieces at the moment. Might have it ready for Friday.”

“That’s too late. Can you do Wednesday?”

JR shook his head. “Not Wednesday. Station Commander’s annual inspection. No flying. We’ll be standing by our beds saluting. I dare say we could encourage the engineers to have it ready for Thursday, though. Best I can do.”

“There are no other options over there?”

“Not really. We have a Beverley destined for the scrap heap, but it’s a team effort to get that airborne and not quite the discretion you’re looking for. The Twin Pioneer’s dead, and I can’t see it being resurrected this month. No, sorry, it’s the Anson or bust, and they’ll need tomorrow at the very least to get it back together. So with the inspection on Wednesday, Thursday’s the best I can do.”

“It’s fine, JR. Incredibly kind of you, actually.”

“So. How will this work?”

Rob puffed out a breath. “I haven’t got that far yet. I’ll have to call in sick. I can’t think of anything else that would excuse me for the day.”

JR nodded. “OK. But you live in the middle of a married quarter patch, surrounded by TFU officers. Won’t they see you?”

“I hadn’t really thought of that.”

“And the main gate? Lots of eyes as the cars crawl through at that time in the morning.”

Rob sagged in his seat. “As I say, I hadn’t really thought it through.”

JR drummed his fingers on his thigh for a moment before sitting up. “We can do this. How about I pick you up? You drive that red Healey don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Far too conspicuous. Nestle into the passenger seat of my old banger. I’ll come and get you. Let’s choose somewhere you can walk to, away from the patch. How about that shop on Church Street? Do you know it?”

“The newsagents? Yes.”

“I’ll scoop you up, drive you onto the station and around to 206. Your Healey can stay in front of your house. It’s not perfect, but it’s better.”

“Thank you, JR. You really are a different breed across that side of the airfield.”

“Chap, when you’ve delivered thousand pounders to a heavily defended Berlin a dozen times, the odd clandestine trip around here doesn’t seem so bad.”

Rob stood up and held out a hand. “I don’t know what to say.”

“I’m looking forward to it. Nice for an old warhorse to be on operations again.”

As Rob switched off the car lights in the driveway, he noticed a vehicle parked across the road with a man sat at the wheel.

He stared in his wing mirror but couldn’t make out any features; just the outline of a figure.

As he locked the Healey, a terrible thought occurred.

He was being watched.

Had they followed him everywhere?

Or was this man with Susie? Protecting her? Monitoring him?

He stood by his car, unsure what to do.

If it was West Porton security, he was done for, surely?

“Bugger this.”

He marched across the road.

As he approached the car, the man turned toward him and looked alarmed.

He wound down the window.

“Can I help you?” Rob said.

The man stared, mouth open, apparently at a loss.

“Who are you?” Rob said.

“I’m Derek Laverstock. We met at church a few times. My wife knows your wife.”

“What are you doing here, Mr Laverstock? Are you watching me?”

Laverstock shifted in his seat.

“I think you need to speak to your wife.”

Rob looked back at the house and then back to Laverstock. “What’s going on?”

“Just speak to Mary, Mr May.”

Rob slowly turned and walked back to their married quarter.

He found Mary exactly where he’d left her, on the sofa.

“What’s going on, Mary? Why is a man called Derek Laverstock outside watching us?”

Mary stared at him for a moment and then said, “What’s her name?”

“Whose name?”

Mary’s face creased up into tears. She dabbed her eyes with a tissue.

Rob took a seat opposite her in the armchair.

“Oh, Mary. No. It’s not what you think—”

“Really? You lied to me, Rob. You lied tonight, didn’t you? I called the mess. There was no meeting to plan the wake.”

“No, there wasn’t. But it’s not what it looks like.”

“You lied on Tuesday night as well, didn’t you? You weren’t at the mess then. You stood in our kitchen and looked me in the eye and you lied. You lied to me.”

Her voice trembled.

He stood up.

“Keep away from me.”

“Mary, you’ve got it wrong—”

“No, Rob, I haven’t.” Her voice settled. Now she sounded steady, defiant. “They saw you. You’ve been caught. Janet and Derek from church saw you last week in a pub with her. Just the two of you. Janet thought it might be innocent, but she saw you kissing.” She began to sob. “For Christ’s sake, Rob. Just down the road from us, for everyone to see? And just when… just when I thought you were back. Back in our relationship. But you’ve betrayed me in the worst possible way.”

“No, Mary, no. That’s not right. It’s not what you think.”

As he stepped back from her, he noticed a suitcase by the front door.

“For Christ’s sake, Mary, you’re not going to leave, are you? You haven’t even heard what I’ve got to say. She isn’t a lover. She’s helping me. The kiss was a cover. It’s how she operates.”

Mary stood up and snorted her contempt.

“Helping you? With what?”

“The box. She stole it.”

“It’s her? The CND woman? Bloody hell Rob, have you lost your mind?”

“She’s not CND. She’s working against