Many weeks later four airmen alighted from the Swansea train at Paddington station. They had arrived at Pembroke dock in the early hours of the morning, their faces grey and oily with the strain of fatigue. There Biggles had made a phone call and Ginger had sent a telegram. Some of the squadron had left the train at Carmarthen to head further north. Algy and Taffy's paths lay on the same line. Algy was glad of company for most of the journey as he made his way on a long-overdue visit to his old home in Merionethshire to see his parents for a short while, before joining the others in London.

Ferocity had gone home to Liverpool, taking Tex with him.

Henry and Angus were being returned to a rehabilitation hospital near London, not too far from Mount Street, where Biggles and Ginger were bound for. Bertie and Tug had promised to look in at some point during their ten days leave.

Tired as he was, Biggles set a brisk pace as he walked towards home, with Ginger struggling to keep up. He broke into a run the last hundred or so yards when he identified the figure waiting on their doorstep.

Mary heard the sound of running footsteps and looked up eagerly. Her face lit up as she beheld the slim figure and almost fell down the steps in her haste to get to him. "James!" she exclaimed, catching him in her arms, laughing. He lifted her off the ground in a fierce embrace. "Mary."

"Oh, my poor darling. You're exhausted – both of you," she added as she saw Ginger, who had taken a more leisurely approach and was grinning at them.

"We've been better," Biggles admitted, his arm around her. "But we're home now and I'm sure Mrs Symes has the kettle on. And I'm looking forward to escorting you home tomorrow."

.

.


The following day Mary and Biggles took the train down to Mary's home near Malmesbury. It was a fairly slow journey and the train was forced to wait in sidings on several occasions due to the troop trains being given priority. Mrs Raymond met them at Little Somerford, as the train to Malmesbury did not run on a Sunday. One of the land girls had been pressed into service and was waiting to drive them home in an old horse-drawn cart that had seen better days.

Biggles lifted his and Mary's bags in and then handed the ladies into the vehicle, before climbing in beside Mary.

.

.


A shrill cry broke the silence of the night. Mary had been aware for a few minutes of the restless sounds in the next room. She put on her dressing gown and opened the door from her room and quickly went into the next room

For the most part muttering incoherently, the murmurings were punctuated by intelligible words and cries of terror. "No!.. I can't…. Stop!" Biggles tossed and turned; he was sweating and shaking profusely.

"It's all right, James. You're safe here with me." Mary switched on his bedside lamp. His hazel eyes stared uncomprehendingly for a few moments before registering where he was.

"I didn't think I'd be coming home."

"You're home safe now," Mary reached out and held him tightly. Great choking sobs racked his body, the tears soaking her dressing gown and through to her nightdress.

"Shhhh. It'll be ok. You're safe James, darling." She rocked him gently and continued to talk softly, stroking his hair.

There was a scuffle outside the door in the corridor.

"What are you children doing out of bed?" a woman's voice asked sharply.

"We heard someone yelling and came to see what was happening," a boy's treble voice said. There was a chorus of agreement.

"Is everything all right Miss Mary?" The woman with curlers in her hair and wearing a pink dressing gown peered in through the door.

"Yes thank you, Nanny. It's only a nightmare. Squadron Leader Bigglesworth could probably do with a cup of tea."

There was a muttered comment in a childish voice that sounded like 'coward'.

"When some of you children have quite finished offering stupid opinions I suggest you get back to bed. Got anything constructive to add? No? If any of you are still here when I get back with tea you will feel the back of my hairbrush on your behind."

Mary continued to hold Biggles, talking quietly until footsteps could be heard coming back. Biggles sat up. He was still shaking from the effects of the nightmare.

Nanny handed them both a cup. "Those dratted evacuees are sometimes more trouble than they are worth. If you need anything else, love, give me a call."

"Thanks, Nanny."

"Looks like a good cuppa. Thanks," Biggles took a sip as she left the room.

There was silence for a few minutes that became awkward. Mary waited.

"If you're going to scare me half to death with the screaming meemees you need to tell me something."

"I know."

More silence while they drank their tea.

"There were times I was frightened," Biggles finally said as he got up and went to his kitbag. He rummaged around for a moment and withdrew his cigarette case and a letter. He sighed and lit a cigarette. "Sorry. I need this." He handed the letter over to Mary. "I'm glad that I am still here to give this to you

"Are you really sure you want me to read this?" She looked at Biggles.

"Yes. No. I don't know." He paced agitatedly around the room. "I only know that I can't talk about most of it. I want to. I don't want to keep secrets from you, but I just can't. This is the best explanation I've got."

.

.

"Darling Mary,

I sincerely hope you never read this letter. Or if you do I am standing beside you as you read it. If anyone else has given it to you then I am dead.

We're up against it this time. But it's not an enemy we can see. Give me one of those any day. I hate working in the dark; I like to see who I am fighting. One by one something is picking the men off, slowly and surely and my time cannot be too far away. I admit that I am frightened, Mary.

I cannot ask my boys to go out and commit suicide, yet essentially that is what I am doing. And we will go off one by one in order of seniority until we find this thing or have all gone for a Burton.

Mary, darling, I think of all the things I'd like to say, that I may never now have a chance to say.

You know I'm not particularly good with words, but words are all that I will have left to give you in the end.

You mean so much to me, you have brought love and laughter back into my life. I never knew how much my life would change the day I met you again on Kingsway. We've always been good friends, you and I. It's only now I realise I must have been in love with you for a good many years.

I look at the moon out here, not too far from where your mother was born, and know that you will see the same moon where you are. It is the one thing I can share with you.

We may never grow old together, sitting side by side with our grandchildren at our feet.

And I may never get to hold you in my arms again and tell you I love you, or lie beside you at night and watch you while you sleep.

I can only write, and wish that I was with you, right now.

The station is quiet tonight, but sleep seems a long way away for all of us. I can hear Henry and Ginger talking quietly in the next room, and I can smell Tug's particular brand of tobacco.

I have your photograph in my breast pocket and will carry it with me when I go up and know that you are close to my heart.

I must try and sleep now.

My beautiful Mary, I love you so much.

James"

.

.

Mary sat for a moment staring into space; tears began to slide down her cheeks. Then she turned to look at Biggles. His eyes met hers, willing her to understand. "I'm not a coward, Mary."

"I know you and I know that whatever has happened you are not a coward." She put her arm around his shoulder and gave him a gentle shake.

He looked down. "Machines dropped out of the sky in front of us."

He lit another cigarette with hands that shook slightly and smoked silently until it was finished.

Mary put her head on Biggles shoulder.

"We nearly lost Angus to this thing. Henry crashed and broke his leg."

Biggles turned his face to Mary's shoulder and held her tightly.

"I can't begin to imagine how you felt." She stroked his hair gently.

He was silent for a few minutes.

"Please stay with me for a while. Whenever I close my eyes I see Angus, as Tug and I loaded him into the Moth."

.

The bedside clock ticked by the minutes. Somewhere in the house the deep boom of the grandfather clock sounded the half hour - or was it one o'clock? It was impossible to tell.

.

Biggles relaxed as they talked quietly, and his breathing became deep and regular. Soon he was asleep with his head on Mary's shoulder, snoring slightly. Mary dozed fitfully, waking every time Biggles became restless with the beginnings of another nightmare.

As the grey dawn was breaking, she finally slept, only to be woken by Nanny with a cup of tea.

Mary slid carefully off the bed to take her tea.

"How is he, dear?"

"He slept reasonably well, apart from the bad dreams."

"Poor man. It's time you went back to your own room. You know what will happen if your mother finds you here."

Mary sighed. "You're right, Nanny. Maybe I can get some sleep myself."