A Song At Twilight (47 page)

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Authors: Lilian Harry

BOOK: A Song At Twilight
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At last the congratulations and good wishes came to an end. Those who were going to the reception at the Prettyjohns’ cottage began to set off up the hill, while May and Ben climbed into the trap and clattered off ahead of them, behind the old black pony. And as Alison stood with Mabel and old Mr Prettyjohn, waiting for the crowd to disperse so that William could be helped from the chair that had been placed by the church door, she noticed a man in RAF uniform walking down the narrow village street. His dark, tumbled hair was so much like Andrew’s that as she saw him she felt her heart stop.

He could not be Andrew. He was too thin. And one sleeve of his uniform was pinned, empty, across his chest. But as he came closer and began to search the crowd, as if looking for one particular face, she knew the truth, and began to run.

‘I went down behind the German lines,’ he told her as they sat in the front room of the cottage later that evening. Hughie, worn out with excitement, was in bed and Andrew had at last relinquished Caroline for her evening feed. Now she too was in her cradle, snuffling gently in her sleep. ‘I was damned lucky – a French farmer saw the plane go down and got me out. My left arm was pretty badly crushed but the local doctor saw to it pretty well, though he couldn’t save it. They kept me in their loft for weeks. They could have been killed if I’d been found, but they wouldn’t give me away. I owe them everything.’

‘I can’t believe it,’ Alison said. Tears came to her eyes again. ‘I’m sorry, darling, I can’t stop crying. It’s been so awful – I tried to believe that you’d come back, but it was so hard at times. And it was all the worse that you hadn’t seen Caroline. It was all so unfair.’

‘Well, we know life isn’t fair, don’t we,’ he said. He slipped his right arm around her shoulder. ‘All the same, I’m glad I’ve still got one of these to hold you with. You’ll have to make sure you always sit that side of me.’

‘But how did you get back?’ she asked. ‘What did the French family do?’

‘Well, the Jerries are being driven back all the time, you see, so after a while we were in Allied territory and it was safe for me to come out. As soon as that happened they contacted the nearest Army camp and I was collected, taken to a field hospital and once they were satisfied with me I was sent home with the next batch of wounded soldiers. And here I am, back again like a bad penny.’

‘Not a bad penny,’ she said, leaning against him, feeling the warmth of his body. ‘A gold sovereign.’ She understood now what May had meant by saying she had needed to keep touching Ben to make herself believe he was really there.

‘Oh Andrew, I’m so glad you’re back. I’m never going to let you go away again!’

‘Don’t think there’s much chance of me going, anyway,’ he said a little ruefully. ‘By the time I’ve persuaded the RAF to let me fly one-handed the war’ll be over.’

‘I hope it will,’ she said, and then lifted her head. ‘Listen.’

The air was filled with the sound of aircraft. They got up and went to the door. The golden light of sunset bathed the sky and tinged the feathery clouds with apricot and gold. A squadron of Spitfires flew over in tight formation.

‘That’s the Polish squadron,’ she said quietly. ‘Stefan must be in one of the planes. He told me he was going with them. He’s left Harrowbeer, Andrew.’

Andrew slipped his arm around her and held her tightly against him. The Spitfires were on their way west, into Cornwall. As the two watched, the last one dipped its wings and then flew away into the burnished distance and, with a pang of sorrow, Alison wondered if she would ever hear from Stefan again; whether he would ever find his family; whether he would even survive whatever was left of this terrible war.

They turned to go back inside, their arms still wound about each other’s waists. The sound of the aircraft died away, and Alison heard the blackbird once again; and the shimmering sky was filled with the liquid joy of his song at twilight.

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