A Nightingale Sang

A Nightingale Sang Chapter 16

Chapter 16 Comfort in Sorrow.

Margaret became aware of the pain, both physical and emotional, as soon as she woke. Every muscle and joint ached, which was to be expected, as she had been buried under the collapsed sheltered. The pain in heart was much worse and she was sure would take longer to heal than her physical injuries. She sensed the presence of somebody at her side and felt a hand gently holding her own. Turning her head, she opened her eyes slowly. Squadron Leader Thornton was sat in the chair next to her, fast asleep. John, who had lifted her from the ruins of the shelter. John who had told her of the death toll. John, who had broken the terrible news that Bessie was one of the dead. John who held in his arms as she had wept promising not to leave her side. She stroked his hand gently with her thumb.

The soft stroke of her thumb woke him.

"You're awake thank God. " His eyes roamed over her face, concern darkening them to a dark blue grey. "How are you? Shall I call a nurse?" he asked quietly.

"No, but if you could pass me some water, that would be lovely."

He poured some water, and then being careful not to disturb the IV in her hand; he slid his arm behind her and helped her sit up. She sipped slowly looking at him intensely.

"Thank you for staying it was very kind of you," she said quietly.

"Margaret please can I say something. I promise I am not going propose again. I have missed you these past few weeks. What I mean is, I have missed your friendship. I cannot change how I feel about you, I love you. Oh I know..." John spoke quickly to stop her from speaking. "I know you don't love me and I don't expect anything. Margaret do you think we can be friends? I won't make you feel uncomfortable. Friends, you know go to the pub or pictures, just as friends." He waited expectantly.

"Oh John I missed you as well. Of course we can be friends."

The sister entered at that moment, the young nurse who John had begged to let him stay, following in her wake.

"Squadron Leader Thornton, what do you think you are doing here at ten o'clock at night? I don't care if you are a hot shot fighter pilot, hero to all, or Mr tall dark and handsome; you may turn yon lassie's head but not mine, now away with you."

He brushed his lips over Margaret's hand.

"I best go. I'll call in tomorrow."

She watched him leave, her mind and emotions in turmoil, maybe that was why she was disappointed he had said he would not propose again.

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Sergeant Dixon was wheeled to the front of the Church. Margaret watched as the normally 'waspish' Dixon struggled to overcome her emotions as she spoke about Bessie.

"I shouldn't have liked you really, me the snappy sergeant and you the cheeky airwoman. I thought you wouldn't last five minutes, not only were you a woman in a man's world but you were an Australian woman at that. You proved me wrong; behind the cheeky chatter was a girl with a heart of gold always ready to listen and support the others in your company.

The pride you had in your uniform when it arrived even though it was at least three sizes too big, I heard you that day telling the girls who were moaning about it to shut up. I heard you tell them to wear it with pride, and to march as they had never done before, challenging them to show the pilots that you WAAFs were valuable to the RAF. I watched as they followed you Bessie, I watched with a tear in my eye, as Squadron Leader Thornton led the salute for you and the others.

Section Officer Hale and I worked closely with you, and our office often rang with laughter at something you had said or done. You made the dirty business of war bearable. That's not to say you were not serious and committed, you were, but you did things with a smile on your face.