Chapter 19: Life goes on 10th October 1939

The pelting rain slammed its way down onto the ground of the Hendon Airbase. The downpour had started the evening before, at around seven o'clock, and eleven hours later, it was still going. It wasn't the first day like it in a while, the whole of the week before it rained, with only a brief respite over the weekend before the rains returned on the Monday. A soaking Tuesday morning would often be one that would make it harder to get up back in Derry, for both James and David. A boring morning at the bank was always a lot more boring when a torrential downpour would greet the Englishman in the morning, whilst likewise being out all-day fixing cars was not quite as amusing if the Irishman was getting soaked.

Neither had any other choice than to get soaked that morning though. They'd been woken by Flight Lieutenant Bentley at five o'clock, to have breakfast and present themselves for inspection. Despite being an officer, James presented himself to his superior like any normal soldier or airman would do, respectfully completing the action without putting up a fuss. He could have complained that he was an officer and that he shouldn't have to, but it showed David that nothing was changing any time soon when it came to his friend. He wasn't any more special than him, he was another one of the men, even if the badge on his sleeve painted a different picture. After inspection, they were straight out running, with instructions to complete two laps around the perimeter of the airfield, as fast as they could. It was a tough physical challenge, but with little else to do, it kept them well in shape.

Over the weeks of training, the two would often measure their running performances against each other. Over the shorter distances, David was the quicker of the pair, with a decisive burst on him when he needed it. A particularly handy skill for conflict, he'd been told by Sergeant Smith, being able to get to his aircraft a lot faster than most, with his speed. Over any longer distances though, James proved to be far superior. His own personal best around the airfield's perimeter was over three minutes faster than David's, and when they'd ran around for a full lap together once before, David was very quickly unable to hold his pace. They were rarely afforded a chance to run together and for the first lap they took it steadier as the aerial bombardment continued from the skies.

"Christ, this… isn't stoppin'". David commented.

"Awful isn't it?" James replied, smirking, his eyes fixed forward. "But we should be used to it".

David chuckled at the comment. It would often chuck it down in Derry, not being overly warm either, so he couldn't have too many complaints. Getting soaked was never amusing even if it was familiar though, especially knowing that he would be straight off up into the air afterwards. James would at least get the chance to be in the warm after he was finished, the textbooks waiting for him where he'd left them the afternoon before.

"Ye know, it's not so bad back home…".

"Why not?" James asked out of curiosity.

"Well, whenever I got wet back home…". David started. "… I could at least go home to a nice warm Orla, who'd give me a cuddle".

Laughing aloud, James could imagine how the scenario would play out. A dripping wet David walking through the door, greeted by an overjoyed Orla who would jump on him, refusing to let go. The sodden clothes wouldn't be an issue for her; she would just want the cuddle.

"I wouldn't…". James snorted.

"Aye no, ye wouldn't".

"Erin wouldn't see me until I cleaned myself up. She would moan about me getting her clothes wet… that they didn't deserve it…".

"Erin… moan? That would be a first…". David spoke dryly.

"Oi!"

"Ach, sorry to speak of yer woman like that, Lieutenant Maguire!".

"Apology accepted Airman Donnelly but do be careful what you say in future!"

The two giggled at their ridiculous roleplaying. David quite enjoyed James being an officer sometimes, relentlessly teasing him about how he needed to act around different people. He'd even helped with some of James' studying, having a good read of the textbook that the young Lieutenant had been given. James didn't mind it all, as he would counter with mockery of his own when it came to David's hilarious attempts at using a posher voice around Flight Lieutenant Bentley. Bentley being as laid back as he was with James, deliberately showed a sterner side to David in order to continue their merriment at his actions.

"Ye know, it's yer Michelle's birthday soon, so it is…". David commented. "… next week I reckon".

"Thursday". James confirmed.

"She… she likes a good Birthday. I remember last year, Christ, I don't think my head was right for days afterwards…".

"Why does that not surprise me?"

Sharing a quick glance, the two did not supress the gleeful grins that were slapped across their faces. Nothing was said for another couple of minutes as they focused on their efforts, approaching the front gate where they'd started the run from. The rain ruthlessly battered them as they continued on, joined by a howling wind on their final approach to the gate, which made it most unpleasant indeed. It was more of a sea spray than a downpour once the wind increased, visibility decreasing as it did. Flight Lieutenant Bentley was stood out under the cover of the roof of the guard hut, waiting for them to come by to shout his encouragement. They were quite jealous of him, stood with a cup of tea in hand watching the two of them sweat and toil in the driving rain from the nicely covered hut. He held a bundle of letters in his hand, most likely from the postman who must have visited whilst they were doing their first lap.

"Double time Gentleman! Double time!"

Upping their pace as they went by, James' prowess over distance quickly showed itself, David finding himself unable to match the higher tempo his friend was setting. James eased off as soon as they were out of Bentley's sight however, allowing his best friend to get in a breather.

"Jesus…. James… ye…". David struggled for breath after his exertions in trying to catch up. "… yer a… a machine".

"I would hardly say that…". An amused James replied. "… I just have better stamina than you do, that's all".

"Ye… ye were sprinting like ye'd just started".

"That's because I only just have…".

James uttered the comment in a cheeky voice, humouring his best mate alongside him. He wasn't joking at all though; for him, they were only just getting started. The whole of the first lap he'd barely used a drop of energy, whilst David was already flagging by the end of it. A long lap was in store for him, meanwhile James could enjoy a relatively relaxing lap in comparison. The only thing they would have in common would be the unpleasantry from the rain. That favoured neither of them over the other.

"It… it is my birthday soon actually…". James commented.

"Ye've kept that quiet, so ye have… when is it?" David, breath back under control, enquired.

"It… it is tomorrow actually".

"WHAT!?"

David shouted as loudly as he could into the glum morning air. Their birthdays were something that hadn't come up in conversation, David already having had his over the summer where it went unmentioned. Presents weren't always an affordable commodity in the Donnelly household, but James made sure to get him some beer so that he could enjoy something on the day. They'd enjoyed the beers on a warm evening, the polar opposite to the conditions they were facing at the airbase, talking into the early hours. For James' birthday, they wouldn't be able to do such a thing and given the Englishman's late reveal of the date and them serving, David could do little to organise anything in time.

"Ach, ye should have said!"

"Why?" James smiled, questioning his friend. "I don't deserve anything".

"Of course ye do, ye eejit!" He was reprimanded.

James shook his head, which David saw, only heightening his belief that the Englishman should receive something for all he did.

"James, yer probably the best friend I've ever had…". He started, stopping to catch breath for a second. "… ye have been good to me and to the family… ye deserve more than we could ever give ye!"

"David…". James spoke with sincerity despite their strenuous exercise. "… I have your friendship. That's all I need".

An almost touching moment, one out of place at an air force base, was shared between the two. Their friendship was one thing that would never falter in the difficult times ahead, through hell or high water. Given the nature of their duty in the air, they would certainly experience hell and being assigned to the Fleet Air Arm, they would have to get used to high water too.

"It's my first birthday without…".

Words caught in James' throat, David knowing exactly why. The only topic that could ever upset James so much was his mother. Every year on his birthday she would lavish him, making sure that her work, whatever it was, would never interfere. If it fell on a school day, she would even let him have the day off to be with her. Kathy always made sure he was treated like a King for the day. But he would be no King on his birthday that year, instead serving as a pilot when the kingdom found itself engaged in war. A war that was yet to truly begin for them, but one which was already devastating the lives of millions on the continent. He could only hope that nestled away in the valleys of the Valais, Lady Aregger was living peacefully.

"I'm sure she'll be fine". He tried to reassure himself.

"She will mate… she will".

Before they knew it, they were halfway around the second lap. By now, they were caked in mud, kicked up from the soggy ground beneath them. David was considerably more fatigued than James, but was still able to hold the pace, though without the grace and style of his friend. In his element, the young Lieutenant was enjoying himself.

"When do ye think we'll get assigned?"

The two still remained officially unassigned to any squadron. Whilst their training was ongoing, it was somewhat understandable, but there were only a few weeks of training left and David hadn't heard anything. He was sure James would have told him if he knew, but curiosity found itself working away at him, prompting his question.

"Soon hopefully…". James responded quickly. "… we can't stay running around this field forever".

"Aye… I don't want to be runnin' around this field forever anyway…".

"Believe you me, I might enjoy a run around the perimeter, but I long to be up there doing what I can".

"Me too. But we're in one of those wars where we don't seem to fight anyone…".

The frustration with the lack of action grew within the soldiers, sailors and airmen too. They weren't bloodthirsty dogs by any stretch of the imagination, but when they'd all signed up, they at least expected to have a fight to go to once training was complete. With Poland done for, the time for intervention being long past, if it ever truly existed at all, there were no fights to get into. The only duties that the Fleet Air Arm would have would be shadowing their own convoys in the Atlantic and along the channel, watching for any German ships or U-Boats. The U-Boats were a real menace, especially against the lightly armed convoys who wouldn't be able to do much to defend themselves. However, the Swordfish's adaptability allowed for depth charges to be carried, and given how easy it was to fly, the pilots could position the aircraft close to the water in order to drop the charges. Most convoys would most likely get through unhindered though, making the only potential excitement a distant pleasure.

"It will change David…". James tried to reassure him. "… we'll be up in the air and back home to the girls in no time".

"I hope so… I really do".

"And perhaps another little girl too…".

"Or boy!" David stated firmly.

Like his wife, David wasn't overly bothered whether it was a boy or a girl. Orla did slightly lean towards girl though, whilst he secretly leant towards boy. Albeit, when it came to naming a boy, they still couldn't choose between Antony, Daniel or Brian when it came to names.

"I do hope one thing for your child".

"What's that James?" David asked, panting from the growing exertions.

"That he or she is a better distance runner from you… I'll see you back at the main hangar!"

Deciding that the time for chatting and not pushing himself further was over, James accelerated away, leaving the helpless David in a cloud of figurative dust behind him. The Irishman smiled, chuckling at his friend's burst of speed that left him rendered useless. He was never going to try to keep up with the flying Englishman, who soon became a blip on the horizon in front of him, which was still hazed by the lashing rain that continued on. The grass on the airfield was being churned up savagely beneath their feet, the mud thickening around them. If it was the farmer's field back home, then there would have been no flying that day given the state of it.

Nearly two minutes after a fairly fresh, though now out of breath James arrived, David trapsed in. The friends were reunited outside Flight Lieutenant Bentley's office, who they could hear on the telephone with what they assumed was another officer at a different base. Nothing was said for a minute as they regathered themselves, David taking considerably longer to get his breath back under control. Sweat was pouring off of them, their clothes drenched in a mixture of sweat and rain, with their shoes and shins covered in a thick, muddy layer.

"Ah, Lieutenant Maguire and Airmen Donnelly…". Bentley suddenly opened the door and started to speak. "… enjoy yourselves?"

"Yes, Sir!". They both answered in unison, stood to attention.

"At ease Gentleman".

The two eased out of their stances to return to the relaxed positions they'd been in a moment before. Smiles on their face, the Flight Lieutenant shared the gleeful outlook. He would be out running himself later in the day, holding back the knowledge of it drying up in the early afternoon from the other two in order for them to not moan about completing the run. It was only then that they realised his hands remained behind his back, with the edges of what appeared to be letters in them.

"These came for the two of you earlier. From Derry, it looks like…".

The girls…

They'd written back…

Bentley dished them out a letter each, improving their already sky-high morale tenfold. They would have given anything to have heard back from Erin and Orla respectively, the latter of whom would bring news of their baby to the anxious David.

"I don't suppose given the weather, that it would hurt to have a quieter morning…".

"Thank you, sir!" James replied to him graciously.

Nodding, the Flight Lieutenant gestured to them that he had more calls to make, so the two left him in peace. In reality, they just wanted to see what their loves had to say to them. To see how much they were truly missed, both expecting to be missed considerably. Once they were back inside their rooms and washed, delaying the reading of the contents until they were comfortable, the two young men lay back on their beds to fully take in what the girls were going to say…

Dear David,

Thank you for yer letter and the wee picture! Yer so handsome in yer uniform! It was right cracker of ye to send me one because I know yer real busy doin' all that flyin' with James like. How did ye convince the postman to walk from England to Derry? It's a real long walk like and he must have been like that wee Jesus fella walkin' over the water ye know… aye maybe it was Jesus… although it's a bit rubbish like that his second coming he has to be a postman. Maybe he annoyed god or something? Anyway, it was real good of ye to get Jesus to agree to help us like that.

Stopping reading for a moment, David let himself enjoy a laugh of relief. Going off on tangents that no one in their right mind would go off on; that was his Orla. His loving wife that made him laugh like a child.

I was right buzzin' for days after yer letter, so I was. Our little baby must be able to read through my tummy ye know, because I was getting a good few extra kicks. When he or she is grown up, they can kick you! I've had enough of the kickin', so I have. It's not fair that a mammy has to get kicked for months whilst Daddy is away! Although, when I said that to Erin she got proper fierce like saying that the kickin' was nothin' because you's were probably getting' shot at and that's worse. Ye know, she's ever so moody these days, I think being away from James is really affectin' her, so it is. The other day, Uncle Colm came round, and Erin was ragin' with him just for sittin' in the chair that Granda usually sits in. She said it wasn't right that he thought he could just sit in Granda's chair without askin'… but Granda wasn't there so I don't know who he was supposed to ask. Aunt Mary was ragin' with Erin afterwards which calmed her down. Mammy thinks she needs to… well I think ye know what I mean… but James isn't here so I'm not sure who with.

Apart from Erin being Jack the Ripping half the time, everything is fine at home. It's not long till we can meet our baby now… a bit longer for you mind, unless ye are comin' home for it? I know what we said about ye have to put yer duty first and I know that, but if ye could come home for us then that would be magical… aye, right magical it would be. I love that yer thinkin' of us all the time… I think about you all the time too. Yer always in my dreams ye know, my lovely husband sitting with me somewhere with wains at our feet… it's lovely, so it is!

Hang on David… Erin's here…

She was ragin'! AGAIN! She says I shouldn't be sat writing for so long because it's bad for the baby. I don't know why she thinks that, but she was sayin' some right nasty stuff to me then. Maybe she does need ye know… can ye send James home? Or can he send himself, just to keep Erin happy for a few days…

Where was I?

Ach yea, ye were right about Mammy and Granda Joe fussin' around me. Mammy's been unbearable and that's annoyin' because I like bears, so I do. She won't let me do anything really. It's been worse since I haven't been at work because at least when I was there then she'd leave me alone to get on with it. I can barely make a cup of tea without her wanting to cry because she thinks I'll hurt our little wain. I wouldn't hurt our wain though, ye know that don't ye? I want a happy little wain when he or she decides she's finished kickin' the inside of my belly! Aunt Mary was explaining to me what happens when the baby's ready to come out like. It sounds difficult ye know and Mammy said it hurts as well but Granda will hold me hand, I guess. Or Anna. Aye Anna's been right good to me. She doesn't shout at me like Erin does either…

I have a couple of questions for ye before I finish off writing.

First one, how many beers is too many? Michelle said it the other day and I've been tryin' to work it out. Do ye know? It's really annoyin' me and when I asked Granda he just shook his head and said he was too busy to explain.

Second one, what's Antidisestablishmentarianism? Anna brought me something that she'd stolen from Erin's room the other day, some sort of story or something. Anyway, that word was on it, I've copied it from there like, but I have absolutely no idea what it means… do ye know? Please tell me in yer next letter!

I love you… and our wain just kicked me AGAIN to say he or she loves ye to!

Orls

"James, What's Antidisestablishmentarianism?".

Dear James,

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you! Thank you for sending me your letter. You wrote it out so nicely. I didn't know you had such good handwriting. Although I do know what you can do with your hands! Christ, I sound like Michelle. I LOVE YOU.

I have been ever so lonely without you. I try to act as normally as I can around everyone, but I'm so cold at night without you snuggling up with me. Please come home soon and hold me again… please! Receiving your letter has been the best day I have had since you've been gone. My heart was racing when Granda Joe came in with the letters from you and David. I am happy he's well and as you can expect Orla's proper happy, although she's not doing a very good job of taking things easy. We're all having to tell her off for trying to do things but then not taking little walks to keep herself mobile. She can be so infuriating!

Sorry James, I had to stop after writing to go and tell her off! She's been sat at the little desk in Anna's room for ages, not having taken a walk for a while! She is more work than the baby will be, I swear it! As well as your letter, the picture that you sent… James what are you trying to do to me!? I had to stand here with the family around me, looking at your picture trying to keep myself composed! You are devilishly handsome, beautiful, in fact. I could barely hear what everyone else was saying because all I could think about was you slowly taking that uniform off with only me to see underneath it. I must have been bright red! Please, if you are going to send any more then can you address the letter's to… our… cottage so that I can look at them there. Another time I'll try to get you another picture of me. I'd get you one… you know, a naughtier one… but I have no one to take it. When you are home for Christmas though, you can take one then.

"James, What's Antidisestablishmentarianism?".

David's stuttered question, just about getting the word out, interrupted him just as his own face began to burn. Erin really was making her feelings for him known…

"W-What?" He stuttered a reply.

"Antidisestablishmentarianism, what is it?"

"Oh, erm… it… it is believing that the church should still receive government support and not be disestablished".

"Right…".

The sight and sound of a flustered James caused David to raise an eyebrow, but it was quickly dropped once the young Lieutenant indicated that he hadn't finished his letter yet. Hiding his face well, James hid his embarrassment from Erin's wish to send him a photo which would be far less innocent than the one he had of them together. Not that he was against it…

My wee Prince is an officer! I can't say I'm surprised but then I would be biased because I love you. Lieutenant Maguire, the handsome pilot who loves me with all of his heart. By day he rules the skies, by night he's in my arms. I think I might write a wee story about a young pilot and his pretty young female companion. I'll change our names obviously. You can be John and I'll be… well I'll think of a name for myself. I suppose being an officer, that means you get to tell David to do whatever you want him to do. I'd have him doing everything for me so that I could have a good rest and do nothing other than the fighting when it starts. Does he have to call you sir? I wouldn't mind calling you sir… Christ I'm sounding like Michelle again, aren't I?

I have been making shirts as you suspected. It has been tough at work without Orla as well as the need to make new uniforms for the likes of you. We all want to keep contributing the best we can though for you brave lads who are out there ready to defend us. Michelle's started to slip these wee little messages into the pockets of some of them. I can only apologise if you find a uniform with a comment about "wanting to buck" or asking if you want to "come for a ride". She says she's only putting in the sweeter messages, but I know Michelle well enough to know she's talkin' absolute rubbish! Speaking of Michelle, she said her Ma got your letter to them and they will write back to you as well soon. I know Michelle has a few things she wants to say to you, although some of them might be better for when you come home at Christmas.

There is so much I want to talk to you about when you get back. As much as I miss having you here to hold myself, I miss our little conversations just as much too. I don't have anyone that I like talking to as much as you and no one looks at me the way that you do. How long do you think you will be able to stay when you are back? A couple of days? A week? Two Weeks? I am already counting down the days until Christmas, the days left until I will be complete again. I listen to the radio every night you know, just in case something has happened and in the hope that they might say your name. The best pilot in the world out there giving the Germans a good kicking! I'm not sure if I've said it yet, but I love you!

Before I finish off, Anna wanted to write something to you. Normally, I wouldn't share but she was desperate and I know the two of you get along very well after that nice bucket of water you dropped on me in the summer!

Hello James!

It's Anna. I hope you haven't forgotten me.

Erin talks about you all the time.

I think you looked cracker in your uniform.

Granda is teaching me how to play cards. We can play when you are home at Christmas.

Have fun fighting, you are the best!

Love

Anna

She got herself really excited when I said I'd think about letting her write a little bit as well. I know she misses you, not as much as me obviously, but she liked it when you used to talk with her. I have to say, I thought it was quite cute myself.

I can't believe this is the end of my letter. I would write to you for days if I could.

I love you James

Please stay safe for me, my English Prince.

Forever

Erin

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Putting his letter to the side for one moment, James' smile radiated throughout the room. A slightly bemused David, who whilst happy himself, didn't have a grin as wide as the mouth of the Foyle, picked up the letter, noticing the ending of it in particular. James didn't mind him reading it all and saw the exact moment David reached the sentence where Erin declared her intent to let him get a naughty photo of her. His chirpiness was at least understood by his friend.

"Are all those x's meant to be kisses?" David snorted the question, struggling to hold back the laughter.

"I believe so. Erin can become quite… passionate, when she wants to be".

"Ach well, seeing as she's not here to give you them…". David started, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "I'll have to give you them on her behalf".

Suddenly clambering across towards him, James darted backwards whilst giggling at David's antics. It was all in jest of course, though it didn't make it any less strange for him to find the young Donnelly crawling over to him within the intention of kissing him.

"No… No!"

"Not so brave and heroic now are ye?".

"Airman Donnelly!". James jokingly raised his voice. "As your superior officer, I could order you to participate in another two laps of the perimeter".

David's face went deathly pale, remembering that James could order him to do so without him being able to argue the point. He didn't believe his friend could be so cruel, but James deliberately held his serious expression to briefly, truly concern his best mate. Quickly realising it was all an act, David got up and shook his head.

They were two very happy young men that morning though. Their girls had written to them, telling them how much they loved them. A small taster of their old lives that were held in stasis, waiting to be lived back home.

A war was going on, but life was going on too.

A few days later…

Sunday afternoons in Derry, midway through October, were not pleasant. For once, it was not the rain that was the problem, instead the howling winds making any outdoor travel particularly disgusting to undertake. Most families were staying indoors to play with the children, escaping the raw power of the elements from behind the safety of bricks and windows. Some were braver though, Gerry and Martin being two of those who decided to take the plunge and trudge out into the gales. They didn't particularly have to go out that afternoon, but an escape from being moaned at by Mary and Deirdre respectively would not be disturbed by a bit of rough weather. It would be rougher staying at home…

Their destination was the cottage that had been mostly unoccupied since James left for England. On the day the two of them flew out, James entrusted the keys of the cottage to his Uncle Martin, asking he and Gerry, who took the spares, to make sure the place was not totally abandoned. He trusted them the most to do so safely, making sure to imply to the latter that Erin was free to borrow the keys whenever she wished. Providing she would agree to it, they would move in together once he'd returned from serving the country, the next chapter of their lives starting at the cottage. One which he hoped would end in marriage. But as he couldn't be there to tend to the home that would be theirs, he found two capable assistants to the task.

"Those boys wouldn't be up there flyin' today, Gerry". Martin commented.

Shivering, Gerry gritted his teeth and nodded. They were both walking along whilst simultaneously wrapping their arms around themselves to keep warm. The wind also contained an icy cool to it to add to the lashing effect as they were caught in crosswinds on the gravelly driveway that led to the front door.

"I reckon James would probably give it a try!" Gerry shouted over the wind. "David probably wouldn't fancy it though!".

"Well James is English, isn't he? They're right crazy bastards when they want to be!".

Chuckling at Martin's statement, Gerry couldn't disagree with him. He'd been in the pub once when a group of Englishmen, on some sort of visit with a minister, walked into the place, ordering round after round of drink. They'd drank some of the toughest patrons under the table in their fine suits, seemingly unaffected by the alcohol. The pub's takings must have been incredible that evening, the fairly sizeable party of visitors attracting an even larger number of challengers, who'd almost all passed out by the end of the evening's drinking.

Reaching the front door, Martin was quick to open up, allowing the two inside to escape the clutches of the despicable wind. Once inside, the lights were quickly on, illuminating the hallway and living room as they ambled in. Martin had been up to the place once, a couple of days after James and David went to sign up, checking for any letters that might have arrived for him. There was nothing of great importance that day and he hadn't been back since. Anything official was usually picked up the by the McLaughlin brothers at the bank, the postman always stopping there before going on out to the cottage. It was easier for Martin to nip over to the bank to retrieve anything and for any of the others for that matter, Erin and Michelle both having gone on a couple of occasions. The only other time the place was opened up was one day when Anna wanted to go out for a walk in the country with Gerry, the two stopping to check in on the cottage whilst they were passing. She made sure to show him the well too, recounting the story of what she and James had done to Erin in the summer, a tale which left Gerry with a bellyful of laughter.

"The spiders are having fun up there".

Martin huffed, tilting his head upward, Gerry tracing it to discover the spiderwebs in the corner of the living room. They weren't paying James any rent for their stay, though neither man could be bothered to tear them down. The fire escaped the cobwebs at least, with Gerry quickly going over to it in order to get it going. On their way up to the cottage, during a slight respite from the severe conditions, they'd decided they would stay for a while. James had told them on the day he left that they were free to indulge in a couple of beers should they wish, an offer that wouldn't be refused. Martin was on hand to get them, joining Gerry in sitting in front of the fire a couple of minutes later.

"Well, this is some life Gerry".

"Sure is Martin…". He chuckled. "… always good to get away for a few hours".

"Aye, too right!" Martin agreed emphatically.

They took it in turns to stoke the fire over the next few minutes, saying nothing to each other in order to take in the peaceful surrounds. It was easy for them to see why James enjoyed living at the cottage as much as he did. Quiet and out of the way, yet still carrying a homely sense to it like their homes in the city, relaxation could truly be found there.

"Deirdre's been on at me all week…". Martin began his story of hardship. "… it starts with one sock being left on the floor on Monday morning, and by Wednesday evening I was threatened with having to sleep outside!"

"I've been there before". Gerry snorted.

"Ha I bet ye have! Has yer Mary been giving you a hard time then?"

"It's not Mary who's the problem… it's Erin".

Erin wasn't just moody with her cousin and sister, but her parents too. In fact, even with the girls at work. They knew she was upset with James having gone to England to sign up and fight, but the pettiness of her moaning some days was legendary. She could clear the room some nights when she went off on one, with even Joe agreeing with his son in-law about her behaviour one night, an act that nearly gave Mary a heart attack.

"Erin? Ach, yer lucky ye haven't got Michelle…". Martin sniggered in regards to his own daughter.

"Lucky? I'd have Michelle at our house any day at the moment".

"That bad?"

Martin's eyebrow raised rather comically, bringing a grin to Gerry's face as he sipped away at his beer. If the man would rather deal with Michelle and her associated shenanigans, then he knew tensions at the Quinn house must have been higher than ever.

"She's always… on edge, ye know. Wanting to start an argument over the most ridiculous things…". Gerry explained.

"We get that with Michelle".

"Aye, but with yer Michelle ye know she's doin' it harmlessly. Erin can get really vicious at times ye know, Mary was crying one night because of it!"

"Mary crying!?" Martin recoiled in shock. "How's Erin still alive?"

"Believe you me, I think Mary considered it. Erin was really critical of her as a mother one night from a conversation that started about the last apple in the bowl that morning. Erin was accusing Mary of eating it when she'd told her not to as it was hers. It got right out of hand".

The apple argument went on for over an hour that evening. Erin liked an apple or two, and once the last one was present in the bowl the night before, she'd made the claim around the house that it was hers. When she came down the next morning to find that the apple was no longer in the bowl, but in someone else's belly, she went ballistic. Mary being the only other member of the house awake at that time took the full brunt of her frustrations ahead of work, with a second round in the evening that began the trouble.

"She misses James I suppose".

"She might miss him Martin, but the way she's carrying on these days… I might have her living up here all the time".

"Maybe I should send Michelle too. Ye know, two birds…".

"One stone". They finished the sentence in unison.

Chuckling away, feeling quite proud of themselves, they continued on drinking their beers. It was a rare occasion where they got to spend time with each other, with usually one or the other having a justifiable reason to not be in the other's presence. Mary would often have Gerry working in the garden at home whilst Martin could sometimes be pulled away to help around the house at the Mallon's. Disciplining Michelle could be considered a part time job for him at times too, as despite her age, she still needed telling off a good three or four times a week. Swearing loudly and proudly was the usual crime, the same one the priest had been told for the last ten years every time she went to confession. That was a sin she would never be able to shake.

"Have ye heard anything else about the Professor?" Martin asked after a couple of minutes.

"Funny you should say that…". Gerry replied. "… one of the lads at work was on about him the other day. Apparently, it's all very hush hush, if you know what I mean".

"Hush Hush? Like not wanting people to know".

"Aye. He's not at that camp his wife and their wain are at either from what the lad at work was saying. His mate is a guard there and he had some leave the other day and told him about it. This mate of his reckoned some funny blokes in suits took him away".

"Funny blokes in suits… all sounds a bit made up to me Gerry".

Martin was dismissive of the tale, though he held the Professor in no high regard. Once the news that his arrest was due to collusion with the Nazi's spread, any respect he had for the man evaporated instantly. He didn't feel for the family either, even if they weren't involved at all. They all deserved to be punished for such a heinous crime.

"I asked Joe about it". Gerry spoke up again.

"And?"

"Now, I've had some ear bashings from Joe, but never as severe as the one I got when I mentioned this to him".

"Really?" A curious Martin enquired. "Why was he so harsh with ye?"

"Apart from the fact that my name's Gerry and I'm a...". He stopped, coughing theatrically to emphasise his point. "… southern shite, I don't know. He said I shouldn't ever mention that man's name again in the house".

Confused by Joe's reaction too, Martin continued to ponder why. None of them could respect a man who was practically a Nazi, but Joe's reaction was baffling. To spell out to Gerry that the Professor's name couldn't even be mentioned was most peculiar.

"Ach well, I suppose Joe did fight before…". Martin suddenly remembered.

"That was the conclusion I came to…". Gerry responded, taking another sip of the beer. "… and ye know what Joe's like. He didn't respond well to me saying about old Colonel Kavanagh either".

The second high profile arrest within the city, not that anyone actually saw it unlike with the Professor, word soon got out that Colonel Kavanagh was being held under suspicions of collusions. Many hoped it was a terrible mistake, as the Colonel and his family were well respected throughout the city. Families like the Quinn's, McCool's and Mallon's certainly didn't mix in the same circles as they did, though the kids did go to school with his daughter Charlene, but the Colonel could still be a generous man. After one young family lost their house to a fire a couple of years earlier, he'd put them up at his home within the city for weeks whilst helping them to find a new home, not asking for a single penny. It saddened the locals to think that such a kind-hearted man would hold beliefs that were the exact opposite of his image. But nobody suspected the Professor either…

"I'd never get myself involved in that shite".

"Neither would I Martin, neither would I".

Gerry got up a second later to stoke the fire, giving Martin the chance to go to the toilet. On his way back, he decided to have a look in James' bedroom, a specific curiosity getting the better of him. He'd always viewed James jealously when it came to clothing, not being able to match the refined look of his dashing nephew. They weren't too dissimilar in height and body shape, though Martin was more fat where James was pure muscle and power. Something was bound to fit him, he thought, and with James away, he could spare a shirt or perhaps two for a couple of months. Opening his wardrobe, he found a forest of shirts. Mouth gaping open, Martin was stunned by how James could have afforded them all.

"G… Gerry!". He called out.

"What!?" Gerry shouted back.

"Come have a look at this!".

Stopping stoking the fire, Gerry turned on his heel in the direction of the noise. Deducing that Martin had, rather nosily, gone for a look around James' bedroom, he found himself to be correct walking into the room. Yet he too was soon mesmerised by the collections of shirts that the young man had amassed, along with plenty of suit jackets and pairs of smart trousers. Shorts too. For an eighteen-year-old living alone, he had more shirts than the two middle aged men staring at his collection had owned between them in their entire lives. Jealousy ran through their blood, sparking at every turn.

"Mother of God…". Gerry uttered.

"I… he must have… I can't count them all…".

Their mouths continued to remain open as Gerry opened a drawer at the bottom to reveal at least twenty different ties of varying colours. Knowing how well organised he could be, Martin knew there would be a tie to go with every suit, combinations accounted for perfectly.

"Where does he get all the money from for this…".

"Kathy has some money from what we can gather". Martin told him as much as he knew. "Christ, if I showed Deirdre this then she'd collapse. He's living like royalty here!".

Royalty wasn't the half of it. They'd gauged his wealth at substantial but not of the likes of the Professor or even Colonel Kavanagh yet were rapidly re-thinking their evaluations. He wanted for nothing, having everything he could possibly ask for at his disposal. Living a life of such luxury, it was bizarre that he would want to go off to fight on the front, though they both knew it would be wrong to re-judge him based upon his finances. He was a man of honour, despite his few years. He would always do the right thing. Fight the good fight.

"Yer Erin should marry him while she's got him".

The comment Martin made was one that Gerry wholeheartedly agreed with. It was what he wanted to, the clear wealth only justifying his thoughts even more when it came to his daughter marrying the fella.

The fella needed to return to her to ask the question first, to be certain that she would accept his proposal.

There was no certainty in war though.

No certainty at all…

It was nearly a week until James received the letter from Michelle. His letter might have been to his Aunt, but it was his cousin who took it upon herself to reply for the family. Once Erin mentioned in her own letter to him about Michelle writing back, he dreaded what she might want to say. After receiving torrents of abuse from her during his time in Derry, he could only expect more in her letter. After all, they'd parted on the same terms they'd started, he being overly polite to her in an attempt to forget just how horrible she was in return. Pacifying her wasn't overly difficult to do, but he shouldn't have had to pacify her. The rest of the family thought much the same as he, although he didn't know how strongly in the case of his Aunt and Uncle.

"Is that Michelle's letter?"

It was the evening by the time he had the chance to read it, David questioning as he noted it in his friend's possession just before they were settling down for bed that night. The day was a fairly routine one for the two, James spending his morning buried in the manuals whilst David spent it up in the air. They were then in the air for further training in the afternoon, quickly becoming used to themselves as a team in the air. An already strong friendship made their work together much easier, one most of the time knowing what the other was doing, although David could sometimes be caught out by James' manoeuvres. David's gunnery was improving day by day and the more comfortable he was manning the rear gun, the more comfortable James could be in the actions he was taking. They were yet to have a true target to fire at, but there would come a day when they would meet the Germans in the same airspace and the training would truly kick in.

"Yes". James answered quietly. "You know, I am actually more nervous about reading this one than I was about reading Erin's".

"I would be too to be honest. I can't say I'd like to have Michelle as my cousin". David quipped.

"I wouldn't say that. I love Michelle even if she has no respect for me whatsoever, she is a member of my family after all".

"Who doesn't think you should be part of hers…".

David gave him a look that told him to wise up, though James remained resolute. He meant every word of what he'd said; he did love Michelle, despite the feeling not being mutual in the slightest. She was tough on him, far too tough, but there was a bright young woman within her in James' opinion, one who could thrive should she change her ways a little. Getting her to change was the challenge.

"Here…". David said after another minute, one James spent deliberating whether or not he should read it. "… let me read it".

Hesitating for a moment, he knew he should read it himself, but David's offer was too tempting to refuse. A temptation which he gave into embarrassingly quickly. The letter was soon handed over, with his friend starting straight away.

Dear James,

I know you probably thought that Ma or Da would write back to you, but I wanted to do it instead. I have something I need to say to you, and you might laugh at me for it. You won't have seen what I have to say coming, I can at least say that, but it is the honest truth.

"I'll admit, now I'm terrified". He laughed, David laughing with him.

"Ach, come on James, it can't be that bad".

Before I get to what I have to say, I'll tell you about everything else. I know you'll have heard from Erin by now, she was proper buzzing like when your letter came. She hasn't shut up about it since, but I can understand why. She loves you a lot you know, I reckon the two of you might be perfect for each other after all. I don't suppose you are an expert at writing terrible poetry? Ha, you could never be as bad as Erin, mind you, she could never be as good a pilot as you! Not quite exact, yet still perfect for each other… eejits!

Mammy and Daddy are well and they have asked me to say they are thinking of you. David too. Then again, we all are in our own way, I guess. Please say hello to David for me. I know Orla sent him a letter, by Christ I don't know what he might have found in it!

James sniggered at the comment. David had shown him the letter after they'd both finished reading that morning, and he was highly amused by Orla. It seemed her talent for bringing smiles to people's faces extended through the means of writing letters as well as in the flesh. At the snigger, David shook his head and rolled his eyes. He should have expected a comment like that from Michelle though…

Nothing much has changed at home, I'm still being a pain in Daddy's words and Mammy still tells me off about one thing or the other most days. I think I just attract trouble. Easy enough to understand though, given how attractive I am. Jesus, I'm starting to sound like Erin, talking myself up so much.

I try to listen to the radio most nights to see how you boys are getting on. Everyone is so proud of you two for doing what you've done. Joe was even speaking positively about the two of you's the other day, so you've got quite the reputation to come home to, so you have. Speaking of home, don't you get yourself worried about the cottage. I know Daddy and Gerry have looked in on it since you've been away and they've both said it is totally fine. I would imagine it's a wee bit cold up there seeing as it hasn't been lived in for a while, but nobody's started living in it since you've left. Have you got any good booze up there? I was thinking I could take a trip up to make sure it's alright myself, but I need a bit of what's the word… incentive. Mammy helped me spell that one... Christ, I feel like Orla now.

David paused, James immediately looking up to investigate the source of him stopping.

"I don't think she meant that offensively…". He referred to her comparing herself to Orla.

"I know". David chuckled. "I might as well be David the dictionary at home sometimes, Orls is always asking me questions about how to spell things. I might get her one when we're allowed to go home".

"Not the worst idea". James smiled. "Why then, may I ask, have you stopped?"

The chuckling continued from his friend, a frowning James struggling to understand what tickled him so much. He must have read something further down the page, he quickly deduced, though what he'd read, remained a mystery.

And continued to remain one.

Before David had a chance to reveal why he was laughing so much, Flight Lieutenant Bentley suddenly burst into their shared room. It was very rare to see the man after dinner in the evenings, unless he requested James' presence for a meeting of officers. He almost never came to their room either, usually sending Sergeant Smith or one of the others to fetch them so that they could go to his office.

"Sir!" They both stood up to attention.

"Night flights gentleman, you have ten minutes, meet me in the main hangar".

"We weren't told, Sir?" David questioned the order, to James' horror.

"Airman Donnelly…". Bentley addressed him in the sterner voice that he was stereotyped with. "… the Germans won't send you a telephone call to inform you when they are launching their next attack. You should view the ten minutes as generous…you will not always receive them in battle".

"Yes Sir! Sorry Sir!"

"Good. Ten minutes gentlemen".

The rest of Michelle's letter would have to wait. Duty called for the two young men of the Fleet Air Arm. They would have to practice flying at night sometime, with the Swordfish's adaptability expected to stretch long into the dark hours. Dark, frozen nights where they would risk death to preserve the way of life that they believed in.

Nights where the shadow of death would cling just that little tighter…