Three men dressed in loose shirts and pants listened to the dark-haired woman talking. Each man wore their wounds like a badge of honour. One man had lost a leg below the knee and was seated on a small stool. His crutches were placed on the ground beside him.
"Do you think you can do it?" she asked.
"I'm sure I can," he said. "Providing I can sit down while I plant."
"You'll have to learn to trust that artificial leg soon, Dave. And we'll work with you to try and make things easier and to fine tune everything. Try and stand up for a little while and test your balance. There's a long-handled trowel and you can lean on one of your crutches if you like."
Mary knelt down beside the second man. "How are you doing, Jim?"
"It'll be easier once I get some feeling back in the rest of my fingers."
"The Doc says keep exercising them and you should get something."
"Who's this coming?" Jim looked up towards the road.
Four pair of eyes were raised to the long driveway where a lone figure wearing a blue airman's uniform and carrying a haversack was walking towards them.
They stared for a moment.
"He looks familiar," said Jim.
Mary dropped the potato basket she was holding and set off at a run. "James!"
Biggles picked her up and swung her round, kissing her soundly, laughing all the while.
There was a cheer from the three men watching. Biggles flushed and broke away in embarrassment. "Ahem! Sorry, forgot where I was for a moment."
He looked down at Mary. There was a smudge of dirt on her face and her head was tied up in a scarf. "Home safe as promised, old girl."
"I'm so glad! When did you get back?"
"Yesterday. I'm wanted at the Air Ministry, no doubt to report in person. I decided I could get away with a short detour first so I could see you."
"Wherever you have been it was hot and sunny," she remarked, studying him.
"Yes, Miss Sherlock."
"And – you've been hurt," she said, touching the red scar above his ear.
He pulled away. "Nothing to worry about."
"One day you will tell me how you came to get that," she said quietly.
.
Biggles turned to survey the airmen working in the far corner of the garden. He took a step forward. "Mahoney by all that's wonderful!" he exclaimed.
"Well bless my soul! If it isn't Biggles!"
"What on earth are... Oh." Mahoney raised his gloved hand, two fingers of which flapped uselessly.
"I'm sorry to see that. How did it happen?"
"Our aerodrome at Witterring was attacked and my fingers got in the way of shrapnel. My eyesight let me down, so I was confined to ground duties. Most of the boys had already been sent out when the stray bomber came over and unloaded his eggs. Me, Dave, and Peter were the only surviving officers. Dave's had to learn how to walk again; I've had to learn how to feed and dress myself. Pete's arm was badly broken. At least we're home alive. That's something to be grateful for."
"How do you and Jim know each other, Biggles?"
"Mahoney and I met on the boat on the way over to France in the last show. We ended up at 266 squadron in Maranique together. Algy joined us there later."
"Algy! Do you see much of him?" Mahoney asked.
"He's my second in command at 666."
"Tell him I was asking after him."
"I shall. How long are you likely to be here?"
"As long as it takes, Biggles, as long as it takes. And you and Miss Raymond...?"
"Yes. One day." Biggles glanced at Mary.
"Better hurry up and get that knot tied then. There are a number of lads here who would ask nothing better than to carry her off from under your nose."
"I don't think she'd go," he smiled at Mary. "Would you, old girl?"
"Well, if someone offered me a million pounds..." she laughed.
.
"I must go. Walk me to the gate?"
Biggles shook hands with Mahoney and he and Mary set off for the gate. Mary slipped her hand through Biggles arm. They stopped at the gate.
"See you tonight, darling?"
"You bet."
Biggles took a quick look around to see if anyone was watching, then pulled Mary closer and kissed her soundly. There was a cheer from the men looking out of the window above them.
"Confound it!" he exclaimed in exasperation. "Am I ever going to find somewhere quiet enough to kiss you?"
"Probably not," Mary gurgled with laughter.
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"Dearest Mary,
It was lovely to see you for even a short while last week. I wish it had been longer. As I said to you that evening, we had our rest while we were still overseas and that was only because it took time to arrange transport home.
Mahoney's right. I still haven't given you a ring. If I can find it when I am next home, I would like you to have my mother's ring. Otherwise we'll have to go looking for something when I next have leave.
Did you get all your planting done?
I hope to see you soon. I might not be able to give you much notice beforehand.
Love Biggles.
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"James,
What a lovely surprise to see you yesterday! It would be when I was home sick in bed with a dreadful cold and I couldn't even kiss you. I hope you don't catch it. You managed to shock a few people, demanding to be taken to my room! I think they understood when I showed them your mother's ring, which is beautiful, by the way
I felt much better after you made me a hot toddy. Do I dare ask where you found the whiskey?
Love
Mary"
.
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"Dear Mary
I hope you are well over your cold by now. Is there any chance you might be able to come down here for a weekend? I'm not sure when I will next get leave.
Life has been fairly regular here, with the only excitement being that Annie the pig has had three little ones. Henry has begged for a few hens and one of the farmers sold us some hatchlings. We are looking forward to fresh eggs when they grow up. Henry has been told that any roosters are to go into the pot or to go back to the farmer. He's chosen the farmer, who will probably put them in the pot anyway!
Must go. There's a lot of paperwork to catch up on.
All my love,
Biggles"
.
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"Dearest James,
We've been working without a break for the last few weeks, harvesting and preparing the last of the vegetables for winter and trying to get new ones planted as quickly as possible to capture the last of the warmth in the soil. I wish I could come down, but I can't get away. Is there any chance of you coming to London?
I am so thankful the hard work is nearly over. I am exhausted!
I hope for Henry's sake all the chickens are hens.
I must finish before I am too tired to run to the post with this.
Love you,
Mary"
.
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The lock on the door in the Mount Street flat tumbled late one wet afternoon about a week later. Biggles ushered Mary into the warm hallway. He shook the rain from his greatcoat and did the same to hers, before hanging both coats on the stand beside the door. His hazel eyes sparkled with mischief as he realised his arrival had not been noticed by his housekeeper. He quietly placed his kitbag in the hall, took Mary's hand and followed the sound of voices towards the kitchen, where Mrs Symes listened to the wireless while she worked. The scent of vinegar and spices filled the house, by-products of the pickles she was making.
Biggles and Mary stood in the doorway, watching the jars being packed with hot shredded vegetables.
Mrs Symes looked up. "Oh!" she exclaimed and dropped her ladle in surprise. "Welcome home!" She caught the sparkle of Mary's ring and recognized it from the portrait she had dusted every week for many years. She looked up and saw how tired they were. "You both look like you need a cuppa,"
"We do, Mrs Symes. Mary hasn't had a break for a couple of weeks and I've been at the Air Ministry all day."
"I'll bring it to you in the parlour. Congratulations to you both!"
"Thank you," Biggles smiled.
.
.
.
Rather more than an hour later Mrs Symes returned to pick up the tea tray. It was very quiet and she wondered if Mr Bigglesworth and Miss Raymond had gone out and she had missed them. She pushed open the door.
Curled up on the couch with her head on his shoulder, Miss Raymond and Mr Bigglesworth were deeply asleep.