A Nightingale Sang

A Nightingale Sang Chapter 12

Chapter 12 A Blow And Its Consequences.

The evening meal served at Marlborough mill was a lively affair, Bessie had come out of her self and chatted away about Australia and her life there. Mrs Thornton warmed to the young girl , who it had to be said was a ray of sunshine. She was completely without guile often saying things and then blushing at her own frankness.

She could not help but notice how her son's gaze often rested on Miss Hale's, his eyes glowed and his lips formed a half smile when ever she spoke. Had he formed an attachment to her, was that love in his eyes. As his mother she doubted this girl were her son's equal, but for all that she seemed such a proud lady and her just the daughter of a parson.

Follow their meal the three young people headed out to sample Milton hospitality at a local pub. Mrs Thornton stood looking down at them from the dining room window as they crossed the deserted mill yard and went out into the evening air of Milton.

The Pub was an old coaching inn. Its solid oak beams blacken with age but as strong as when they had been built two hundred years previously. A huge fireplace dominate one wall with polished horse brasses glowing in the subdued light. The bar ran along one wall its mahogany surface gleaming. Their footsteps rang on the flag stoned floor. The girls took a seat at a small oak table, scarred and stained with age.

"Just imagine Miss Hale my ancestors may have used this very pub."

"Yes Bessie they could. Look away from the base call me Margaret, I feel ancient when you call me Miss Hale." Margaret smiled at the younger girl.

"Margaret they don't seem very friendly in here, if looks could kill John would have dropped dead by now." Bessie observed.

John made his way from the bar and put the drinks down on the table.

"Thank you Squadron Leader Thornton, you have been so kind." Bessie smiled at him.

"You're welcome Miss Higgins." he replied and raised his glass "Cheers Ladies."

They sat talking quietly for several minutes during which time more customers arrived, it was when John stood to get some more drinks that Margaret sensed trouble. Several soldiers were in the bar all having had several drinks.

"Hey lads its pansy t'pilot too scared to fight at Dunkirk. You'll not get served another drink here we don't hold with cowards." the man's words were slightly slurred.

"Look I don't want any trouble," John tried to move away.

"Where were you at Dunkirk?I waded through hundreds of bodies to get on a boat home where the bloody hell where the RAF? I'll tell you safely at home." The man made a grab for John moved out of the way.

The man's friends were get restless now as well and John moved towards the bar. Soon he was surrounded by a large group of angry men all jostling and shoving. Margaret watched in horror as one picked up a glass.

She moved quickly pushing men out of the way to get to John. Throwing her arms around him acting as a shield.

"Go away Margaret." he spoke his mouth at her ear his voice deep "This is no place for you."

"It is you did not see what I saw. They will not attack a woman." she replied turning slightly.

"Go home all of you this man has done nothing to you. I know Dunkirk was bad but he is not the enemy. Go home before the police come." she pleaded with them.

The glass flew through the air, aimed at John Thornton but at the last minute Margaret moved and it caught her a glancing blow on the side of the head. She slumped in John's arms unconscious her head against his chest blood trickling from a cut to her forehead.