A Nightingale Sang

A Nightingale Sang Chapter 11

Chapter 11 "This was their finest hour."

Her reflection in the train's window was one of gentle gracious beauty. Her face should be on Gainsborough canvass. Or carved as cameo set in a broach. She was totally oblivious to his scrutiny, lost in her thoughts. The landscape had changed dramatically as the train had moved north. Gone were the golden sun kissed fields of the agricultural south. The northern cities now dominated the view; the skyline was one of smoking chimneys, mills, factories and warehouses, their walls blackened by 100 years of industrial development. Even the back bone of England, the great Pennine hills were rugged harsh and dark. Life in the north was tough and the scene through the window reflected that. Milton was a thousand shades of grey and John knew them all. Margaret's face was inscrutable he could not read her thoughts and so was left to wonder what she thought of his home.

A week had passed since the kiss, how the lightest of touches could still play on his mind seven days later, he would never know. They had barely spoken all week and only then to discuss this journey. John knew he was avoiding the issue of the man at the gate. Lieutenant Henry Lennox. John had recognised him immediately; he was the officer from the ship that had rescued him. The recognition had been mutual.

"Lieutenant Thornton from HMS Worcester?" he questioned looking John up and down, his public school tone superior.

"It is Squadron leader Thornton, I trust you are recovering from the horror of Dunkirk?" he asked politely.

"Oh yes the army is made of stern stuff. The RAF will have to join in fully now not pick what fights it chooses. Is the RAF ready to dabble in this war Thornton."

"I don't know that I am the person to ask I'm not sure I know how to dabble." His northern tone in stark contrast to Henry's upper class one, He turned to face Margaret.

"Miss Hale you have had a bad shock you should go and see the doctor." His eyes roamed her face in concern.

"Nonsense I am perfectly alright. There is no need to worry." Margaret smiled in an effort to reassure him.

"In that case I will leave you and Lieutenant Lennox alone." He took charge of both bicycles and walked away through the camp.

"Shock, what shock Margaret?" Henry asked looking after the slowly retreating figure of Squadron Leader Thornton.

"A Me109 tried to frighten us that's all Henry." Margaret played the incident down.

"In that case Miss Hale let me take you to the pub down the road and I will buy you a Port and Lemon to revive your spirit." Henry offered his arm.

John had turned as Lennox took Margaret's arm and escorted her away from the camp and he watched then disappear.

He had been so deep in thought he jumped at the sound of a voice near him.

"Faint heart never won fair maiden Sir" He turned sharply

"Higgins You found your way to the base then ?" John spoke ignoring the statement the Australian had made.

"I have Sir. My girl Bess tells me that we are linked by more than the Air Force. You own the mill our ancestors worked is that true?" he enquired.

"Aye that's right my family own Marlborough Mill. She says that where your family worked in the 1800's." John looked at the man with interest, wondering what had led to his family emigrating.

"That's true I hope to get up there while I am here. Bess say's you have offered to her take up there next weekend. I am not sure that she should go alone with you. She's just a young girl." Higgins looked at his commanding officer not wishing to offend, but looking after his girl.