Peter tells Nicola
Nicola wondered why Patrick's mother had sent Nellie to summon him like that. It was none of her business though, so she shrugged and took her favourite way home over the stream.
Coming down the path, some distance away, she could see Peter. She remembered he had gone with Cousin Jon to the aerodrome. She felt a bit uncomfortable about Patrick having so blatantly discouraged Peter from coming to see the hawks.
Maybe Patrick could only cope with one person at a time. He was a bit like Cousin Jon in that respect. Nicola sometimes felt that there were rather too many of her family for comfort at Trennels. Having to share his breakfast table and newspapers with Karen, Rowan, her father, and all the rest of them, seemed a bit much for Cousin Jon and he wasn't always very nice. Just as well they were not staying forever.
When Nicola got to the bridge over the stream, Peter was there waiting for her. "The sun came down in slanting lines through the trees, and made a fishnet of light on the bed of the stream."
"Did someone stop Patrick on his way over?" said Peter. "Or is he around somewhere?"
"Nellie stopped him," said Nicola. "His mother wanted him. I don't think he's coming to supper now. Why? Did you want to see him?"
"Oh. No." said Peter. He didn't say anything else, but he didn't move either.
"Shouldn't we go back?" said Nicola.
"I don't know," said Peter. He turned away, and looked down into the water.
"What do you mean?" Nicola thought he was being a bit strange. "We saw Jon's plane before," she added.
"He crashed," said Peter, expressionlessly.
Nicola said, "Is he alright?" She remembered seeing the plane diving, the shimmer in the air, and then smoke.
Peter looked at her then, his face stiff. "He crashed," he repeated.
"But he got out, didn't he?" said Nicola. "Planes have ejector seats."
"No," said Peter. "He crashed."
Nicola felt a bit sick. "Have they taken him to hospital?"
"No. Maybe. I don't know." Then Peter cried out, "Then there was a fire."
Nicola didn't understand. "Do you mean, he was still in the plane?"
"Yes."
"Is he dead?" She listened to her own voice, sounding strangely shaky. Never, even during the war, had she asked that question before.
"Yes."
"We'd better go home," said Nicola. She didn't know what to do. Peter was rubbing his eyes.
"I was coming to tell Patrick," said Peter. "Mum was going to tell you. I'm sorry."
Nicola thought again of that moment when the air seemed to shimmer, and the bonfire she had seen. Not a bonfire.
"It's alright," said Nicola.
But it wasn't. Nothing was alright. Nothing at all.