War puts courage and love to the test.
It’s 1939, a lone Spitfire roars over her family home, and Ilona Lowe, entranced by its grace and power, finally knows her place in the fight against Hitler. She joins the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force, is stationed at RAF Catterick and embarks on an all-too-brief love affair with a Bleinheim bomber pilot who is killed during the Battle of Britain.
Heartbroken, but determined to carry on, Ilona returns to active duty where she encounters Francis Robson. He’s arrogant—some would even say reckless—and another pilot. Yet he’s worth the risk.
Their love isn’t easy. Francis harbors jealousy about her former lover while Ilona’s posting at an RAF bomber base feeds her nightmares about Francis’ safety. She can see the escalation of stakes as his missions grow ever more dangerous, the enemy more desperate. Ilona must put her courage to the test because she knows that loving Francis means letting him let him fight on, regardless of the terrible price they both may pay.
General Release Date: 13th October 2015
“Is it the Germans, Ilke?”
The low thrumming of an engine broke the afternoon silence, growing louder until the plane burst from beyond the trees with a roar that had Ilona and her sister scrambling for cover. Aislinn clung to her arm as they ducked behind the low wall of the terrace.
Ilona gripped the warm brick, digging her fingernails into the moss when the ground trembled. The noise reverberated through her bones. “I don’t think so. I think there’d be more than one plane.” She glanced up as the plane swept into a banking curve above the house. It was low enough that she could see the RAF roundels on the underside of its elliptical wings and she took a deep breath. “It’s all right. It’s one of ours.”
“Are you sure?” Aislinn’s voice quivered.
“Yes, I’m sure.” She stood up, her fear gone, and shielded her eyes against the glare of the afternoon sun. “How beautiful!” It seemed impossible to her that it came from a factory. Its slender fuselage and upswept wings were something that nature would fashion. It echoed the shape of the kestrel that rose, screeching, out of the woods in pursuit of the intruder. Ilona watched the bird for a moment and wished she could fly with it, to follow the plane and chase off the enemy that waited in the east. She was twenty, old enough to volunteer.
“Bloody cheek,” Aislinn declared as the plane straightened and launched into a steep, fast climb. The throaty growl of its engine stunned the squabbling blackbirds into silence and brought the girls’ parents out onto the terrace. “He nearly took the chimney off.”
Ilona wasn’t listening to her sister. She stared at the plane while it continued its climb, rising into the sky before it turned and leveled, sweeping away to the south. The heavy purr of its engines faded away. Something inside her took flight, rising with the plane. The engine’s song was in her blood. She had to hear it again. She knew she would never be able to fly a plane like that, but to see one again would be enough. It thrilled her that such a marvelous plane belonged to her country. For the first time since the Government had declared war, Ilona knew what she was going to do.
Her father put his hands in his pockets and whistled softly. “That was some machine.”
“What was it, Papa?” Aislinn asked.
“I think it was a Spitfire. They test fly them out of Aldermaston.”
Ilona sat on the wall. “I didn’t think something like that could be so beautiful. It looked more like it was alive.” She hoped that the fleeting, heart-racing glimpse would not be all that she ever saw. The ease with which it had moved tugged at her. She had only ever loved living things—her family, her horses, her dogs and cats—never a machine. It didn’t seem possible that she could fall in love so quickly. She had to get closer to it, to stand in the grass and watch it soar overhead. It would not be enough to stay at home when there was a war to fight. She looked at her sister and her parents, her mind made up.
“I’ve decided,” she said. “I’m joining the WAAF.”
* * * *
“Aren’t you ready yet?” Aislinn burst into Ilona’s bedroom.
Ilona glanced up from her book and regarded her sister with mild annoyance. “For what?”
“Aunty and Uncle Reardon, they’ll be here for drinks any minute now and here you are lounging around with your nose in a book.”
She looked at Aislinn again, all pretty and black haired in a blue dress that matched her eyes. “Why are you all dressed up?”
“The Woodplumpton’s party, you ass. Ilke, honestly, you’re hopeless. Have you forgotten?”
“Party? Why are the Reardons coming here?”
“So we can meet their grandson. Don’t you remember anything Mama told you?”
Ilona set her book down with a sigh. “Now that you mention it, I remember Mama telling me something last night on the way home from the station. I was really tired. I don’t think I took much in.”
“Obviously not.” Aislinn opened Ilona’s wardrobe and started rummaging through the dresses. “You’d better hurry up and get changed. What do you want to wear?”
“I don’t know. You choose.” She didn’t want to go anywhere. The Christmas Eve weather was far from Christmassy. The wind hurled rain against the window, and she wanted to stay in her room, curled up in the chair beside the fire.
“How about this one?” Her sister held out a dark green dress. “It’s nice and warm and the color really suits you.”
She eyed the wrap-around wool dress with little enthusiasm. “I suppose so.”
“Oh, do snap out of it, Ilke. You can’t sit around all Christmas and read books.”
Ilona slipped out of her trousers and jumper and stepped into the dress. “Why not? It’s not like I’m going to have much time when I go back to training. Why aren’t you tired? Don’t they work you as hard in the WRNS?”
“Yes, they do, but I don’t want to sit around the house all the time. You know that Lady Woodplumpton’s parties are the only bit of excitement we get around here. Anyway, I want to meet this Francis person.”
“Francis, that’s his name?” She tightened the dress around her waist and smoothed out the skirt. “What’s he doing here anyway?”
“Don’t you listen to anything anyone tells you? He’s with the RAF. He’s a pilot. He’s Mama’s cousin’s son.”
“The one that lives in America?”
“That’s the one. He’s mad keen on flying and Lord Woodplumpton pulled all sorts of strings to get him into the RAF.”
Ilona stooped to look in the mirror. She ran her fingers through her hair and tried to fluff out the unruly waves. The dress made it look redder and she wasn’t sure she liked that.
“Are you ready?” Aislinn shifted from foot to foot. “That doorbell’s going to ring any minute and Mama will be beside herself if we don’t get down there.”
The doorbell rang, sending the dogs into a frenzy of barking. Cries of delight filled the foyer as the guests walked in. Ilona followed Aislinn down the stairs and into the whirlwind of dogs and guests.
“Here are the girls.” Father pushed the dogs aside to usher them forward.
Ilona was swept up into Mrs. Reardon’s fierce hug. “Welcome home, dear. It’s lovely to see you again.”
“It’s nice to be home.”
“Good heavens!” Her mother exclaimed. “You’re your father all over again. I can’t believe it. He’s the image of Jon. It’s like going back in time.”
Ilona noticed the other guest for the first time. He stood to one side in his dress blues and looked bored. She did see the resemblance that her mother was going on about, in his tousled brown hair and his eyes that were the color of strong tea. There were photographs in the sitting room of his parents. Anna, her mother’s cousin, was small and fragile-looking beside a tall, lean man with a haunted face. His son’s face lacked the ghosts, but he didn’t seem happy. She offered him a smile.
“I’m Francis,” he said, not returning the smile.
“Ilona.” It was bad enough that she had to give up a precious, quiet evening but his curtness annoyed her. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“He doesn’t look too thrilled to be here, does he?” Aislinn took her arm as they headed for the sitting room.
“No, he doesn’t,” she whispered back. “Too bad. He’ll have to drink cocktails and be polite like everyone else.”
Ilona had always loved the sitting room. It was at its best during the long, brilliant days of summer when sunlight fell through the tall windows and tumbled onto the floor. There were plenty of places to sit but, the evening was cold and everyone sought refuge on the group of chairs and settees clustered around the fireplace. Ilona listened while Aislinn tried to engage Francis in conversation. His replies were monosyllabic and he kept looking with obvious longing at the door. The others were too busy talking to pay much attention to the strained silence in the chairs farthest from the fireplace and Ilona itched to be away from there. She tucked her legs underneath her and gazed into the flames, wishing that she was back in her room with her book. Instead, she sipped her sherry until her mother decided that it was time to leave for the Woodplumptons’ party.
Everyone retrieved coats and umbrellas in a little flurry of activity. Her father announced that he would take the Reardons in the car and Ilona, Aislinn and Francis could walk.
“After all”—he grinned—“you’re all young and fit and a little stroll in the rain won’t bother you much.”
Ilona opened her mouth to protest. A sharp glance from her mother put paid to any objections. She shrugged into her coat and wondered if it was worth wrestling with an umbrella on such a windy night. Instead, she wrapped a scarf around her head and followed Francis and Aislinn into the darkness. She took her sister’s arm as they picked their way along the drive while their companion walked slightly behind them in silence. The wind roaring through the trees did little to encourage conversation. They hurried along the lane and through the quiet village. It was a relief to reach the warmth and light of the Woodplumptons’. Ilona hoped that Francis would be lost in the crowd because his silence unsettled her and she didn’t feel like working hard to get a word out of him. Aislinn had already spotted some friends of hers and disappeared into the noisy chaos of the drawing room.
Francis looked at her. “Would you like a drink?”
She hurriedly glanced around, searching for someone that she knew. There was no one and she mustered a smile. “Thank you, yes. That would be nice.”
Perhaps he’ll open up with a drink.
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