Millie went back to the bar and tugged Rob on the shoulder.
“We’d best be getting back, young man. The wives will be waiting for their card game.”
“Oh no! Rob’s dad’s here to pick him up,” said Johnson. “Ooh, please, Rob’s dad. Can he stay for just one more drink?”
Rob looked at his newly presented pint.
“I might just have this first, Millie. I’ll see you at yours later.”
THE RUSTING WHEELS of Millie’s ten-year-old Rover complained as he scraped the kerb outside his married quarter.
“And that’s why I’m not a pilot,” he reminded himself, clambering out and into the warm June evening.
The sound of laughing women drifted from the back garden as he made his way down the side passage.
Georgina and Mary sat in two tatty garden chairs. Summer dresses, floppy hats, and what looked like gin and tonics in hand. Georgina in her favoured red, Mary in yellow. Millie stood and watched for a moment.
“Darling!” Georgina shouted when she spotted him. “Whatever are you doing lurking in the shadows?”
Millie set down his flight case just inside the open French doors and picked up a third garden chair.
“Just admiring the local beauty.”
“Peeping Tom, more like.” Georgina lifted herself and kissed him hello. “Drink? scotch?”
“Do we have any ice?”
Georgina thought for a moment. “I don’t think so, but I’ll see if I can pull something off the inside of the freezer if you like.”
“Needs must.”
Millie’s relief at being home must have shown in his eyes, as Georgina loitered for a moment.
“Everything OK?”
He tried not to glance at Mary; this wasn’t the time to say anything about the incident. It was up to Rob and every member of aircrew what they shared with their wives.
“Yes, fine. Just tired.”
Georgina looked unconvinced, but then disappeared into the house.
“Well,” Millie said turning to Mary, “I thought you might be missing us, but apparently not.”
Mary laughed. “The heatwave is so gorgeous. It’s just nice to be in the sun.”
“No cards tonight?”
“Well, we need four for cards. Did Rob go home to change?”
“Actually, he was still in the bar when I left. I expect he’ll be along later.”
“Fine, well we can enjoy the evening sun, the three of us.” She leant back in her chair and closed her eyes, her shoulder-length brown hair gently shifting in the breeze. Millie smiled at her; so young and pretty and with an up and coming test pilot by her side.
He felt a twinge of jealousy as he recalled the time after the war when he was promoted, and he and Georgina were considered the young ones.
The three of them ate outdoors and remained there in the last of the warmth; it was unusual for it to last so long into the evening.
The Milfords’ grandfather clock tolled, its gentle clangs seeping out of the house through the open doors and windows. Ten bells. It was apparent Rob would not be appearing that evening. He was either still in the mess or had headed home, worse for wear.
Millie walked Mary back to their married quarter, two streets away in Trenchard Close.
The house was dark.
“Not here, either.” She turned to Millie. “Has my husband forgone us for some new drinking pals?”
“I fear so. We all need to let our hair down every now and again.”
She looked thoughtful for a moment. “Yes, of course. A bit rude as we had cards planned. Sorry, Millie.”
“Think nothing of it,” he said and they kissed their goodbyes on the cheek. “I’m sure he’ll be back presently.”
Millie sauntered home. Had he missed anything important in the bar of the officers’ mess?
It was nagging at him, the brief exchange with Kilton.
Making a bit much of this… Bloody silly thing to say.
He thought of Kilton going over to Brian Hill as he was leaving.
Were they discussing the Guiding Light situation without him?
He looked up as he approached the house and saw Georgina in the kitchen looking at him. He gave a little wave and pushed open the front door.
She was at the sink, apron on, finishing the washing up.
“Let me help you,” he said, and he picked up a drying up cloth.
“Thanks. You know what I thought watching you waddle back home?”
“How handsome I look?”
“Yes, obviously, but also how porky you look. You need to lose some weight, mister.” She poked him in his side.
“I know, but it’s so tedious exercising and, god forbid, dieting.”
Georgina stopped washing up. “What happened today?”
Millie smiled. “I can’t hide anything from you, can I?”
“Nope.”
Millie shrugged and spoke as casually as he could.
“We had a little moment in the air.”
“Oh, god.” Georgina pulled off her yellow rubber gloves. “Tell me.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine. Everyone’s OK. It was just a moment. Briefly scary, but we got out of it and that’s all that matters. Actually, Rob was flying and did a sterling job.”
“Rob was flying? Is that why he isn’t here tonight.”
“I think so. Letting off some steam in the mess.”
“Fair enough. Did you say anything to Mary?”
“No. That’s up to Rob. Everyone’s different.”
“Can you tell me what happened?”
Millie thought for a moment. “Not really. Sorry.”
She reached forward and put her hands on his cheeks. “It doesn’t matter. I’m glad you’re safe, Squadron Leader Milford.”
They kissed and he welled up, the near-death experience catching up with him.
He’d seen it in others: a delayed reaction.
Georgina didn’t seem to notice. She released him and walked over to their wall calendar, pinned to a cork board over the table.
“I nearly counted the days today. It’s something like one hundred and twenty. She lifted the pages until October showed.
“I’m sorry, what?”
Her finger rested on October 19th. “This is the day, isn’t it? October 19th. Your last day in the RAF.”
“Ah. Yes.”
She let the pages of the calendar fall back down.
“One hundred and twenty days, Millie, that’s it. All I ask is that you remain in one piece. OK?”
He laughed. “I promise. Believe me, I’m looking forward to it as much as you are.”
“Are you?”
“Yes, of course. I’m going to take up sailing, remember? I’m sure the RAF pension can stretch to the Lee-on-Solent place we saw. Just.”
She tilted her head, appraising him. “Good. It’ll be fine, Millie. We’ll still see all our friends, wherever they get posted.”
Millie finished the drying up. Georgina disappeared and reappeared with a tumbler of whisky.
He sat down at the kitchen table and lifted it to his nose.
“Ah, the Lagavulin.”
“Well, I think you need a treat. And it’s the posh tumbler, the wedding set. Last one standing.”
“The last one? We started with eight.”
She smiled. “All things must pass, Millie. Anyway, the attrition rate for glasses in married quarter is pretty high. We’ve had some pretty wild nights over the years. I think we must have lost three of them in Hong Kong playing that silly game with the cricket ball.”
Millie laughed at the memory. “Test Match Sofa was a brilliant game. I was quite the slip catcher when positioned correctly near the piano.”
“I’m sure you were, I’m sure you were.”
She kissed him on the head and whispered, “I’m glad you’re home, Squadron Leader Milford.”
He squeezed her hand and smiled up at her.
“Don’t worry, our retirement is safe. I’ll be getting under your feet every day before you know it.”