A Song At Twilight (36 page)

‘I know.’ Stefan was just as concerned. He had happened to be the only one in the mess, sitting at the breakfast table, when Andrew had arrived, anxious and unshaven, from taking Alison to the hospital. Dismayed, he had listened to the account of their hurried rush and the Matron’s assessment of the situation. ‘But it’s taking so long. Can’t they even give you some compassionate leave?’

‘I asked,’ Andrew said gloomily, ‘but she’s not in danger, you see. If she were, they might – but I can’t be dishonest about it. It’s not fair to the other men.’

‘I don’t really see that,’ the Pole said. ‘What good does it do to anyone else to deprive you? What harm would it do to them, to let you go?’

‘It’s about morale. And it’s about being fair to everyone. It doesn’t do to give men something to grumble about. They grumble enough as it is – we don’t need to give them a real grievance as well!’

Stefan shrugged. If Alison were his wife, he thought, he would tear down the fences of hell, let alone an airfield, to get to her at this time. But Andrew was right. Nobody was allowed off the station now without special permission, and it didn’t seem likely that this would be granted.

The worst of it was, as they all knew but didn’t say, that Andrew might never see his baby. He might not live long enough.

Three times a day, he rang the maternity home. It was the first thing he did in the mornings, as soon as the Matron allowed. He rang again after lunch and again in the evening. On each occasion, he was told that nothing had happened. Alison was comfortable, and the doctor was satisfied. There was nothing they could do but wait.

‘Wait!’ he fumed, coming away from the telephone after lunch. ‘She’s been in there two days now. How long are we supposed to bloody wait? Why can’t they
do
something?’

‘They will if they think they should,’ Robin Fairbanks reassured him. ‘Look, Andy, I know it’s hard but she’s in the best place possible. You ought to be thankful you were able to take her in and see her settled. You’d be in an even worse state if she were still at home.’

Andrew glared at him, then conceded that this was probably true. ‘All the same, it’s actually started, hasn’t it, so why can’t they just move things along a bit? The baby must be ready to be born. I mean, it’s got all its fingers and toes and everything. What difference will a day or two make?’

Robin shrugged. ‘Don’t ask me. I’ve never had a baby! But there must be some reason why it starts – some sort of trigger. Seems to me you’ve just got to wait for it and there’s nothing else you can do.’

‘I suppose so.’ Andrew stared moodily out of the window. Across the road, the watchtower was already busy and beyond that he could see the bays where the planes were drawn up ready – Spitfires and Typhoons which had been flying the day before and taken over by the mechanics for maintenance during the night. Past the buildings and the hangars he could see the distant shapes of the Dartmoor hills – the rugged, escarpment of Sheepstor only a mile or two away, with the RAF transmitter on Sharpitor, and the smoother uplands of Cox Tor and Pork Hill further off. He thought of Alison’s plans to go cycling and walking in the hills, plans which they’d not been able to fulfil. Maybe this summer. Or maybe next. The four of them, he thought. He with Hughie on the back of his bicycle, Alison with the new baby on hers. It would be old enough by then to use one of those little seats …

‘Phone for you, Andy.’ Robin’s voice broke in upon his thoughts and he jerked round and hurried to the telephone in the corner.

‘I never even heard it ring!’ He grabbed the receiver and held it to his ear. ‘Yes? Knight here – what is it? Is that the maternity home?’

‘It’s Matron here, Squadron Leader,’ the calm voice said. ‘I just thought you’d like to know that your wife has started her labour. She’s been having slight contractions all night—’

‘You didn’t tell me that just now! Why didn’t you say?’

‘They were too slight to be concerned about. It could have been just a false alarm. However, she’s been examined now, and she’s begun to dilate so—’

Andrew had no idea what this meant. He interrupted impatiently. ‘How long will it be?’

‘I can’t tell you that, I’m afraid. Nothing seems to be happening very quickly as yet, but you can never tell. You’d better ring again at six, as usual.’

‘At
six
? That’s over four hours!’

‘It’s unlikely that anything will have happened before then. Please don’t worry, Squadron Leader. Your wife is in very good hands and everything is progressing smoothly. We’ll take great care of her.’

‘I know. Thank you. I’ll ring again at six, then.’ He replaced the receiver and turned to face the others, who were all watching him expectantly. ‘She’s started, but they still seem to think it’s going to take quite a while. God, I wish I could be with her!’

‘You don’t really,’ Robin said. ‘I know someone who saw his baby being born – it all happened very quickly and he had to deliver it himself. He said it was horrific.’ He caught sight of Andrew’s face and stopped abruptly. ‘Anyway, I expect he was just laying it on a bit thick,’ he mumbled. ‘I don’t suppose it’s anything like as bad.’

Andrew gave him a withering look and returned to his position at the window. He stared out, trying to imagine what was happening to Alison at this moment. Oh God, he prayed, don’t let it be too bad for her. Let it be over soon. Please, please let everything be all right …

‘Scramble!’

The voice on the tannoy had barely completed the word before every pilot was on his feet and racing for the door. Most were wearing much of their flying gear already and the rest was being pulled on as they ran across the grass and tarmac towards the waiting planes. The mechanics were ready to help them get strapped into their seats, turn the propellers and whisk away the chocks, and within less than a minute the whole squadron was airborne and setting off for the coast.

In the tumult, Andrew almost forgot his wife, even now giving birth to their baby. He had no time to think; his brain had switched immediately into action, shutting out all other matters. But as he rose into the sky and steadied his aircraft, she slipped into his mind again and he cursed. He hadn’t even had time to telephone.

Stefan too was thinking of Alison. He had been aware for some time that he was falling in love with her. He’d kept his feelings firmly locked away in his heart, knowing that she could never be any more than a friend, but as they’d exchanged tokens on that last day, he had seen in her eyes a deeper feeling than friendship, and had felt the sudden tension between them; and he’d known then that, whether she realised it or not, Alison was at least a little in love with him as well.

The knowledge had both shocked and delighted him. He was delighted because it was so long since he had felt that anyone loved him, and although he had had plenty of brief romances since he’d been in England, he’d never felt seriously in love with any girl. And he was shocked because he’d never had any intention of coming between Alison and her husband. He’d believed he could keep his love to himself. Now, he knew she was aware of it too – or, if she wasn’t, she very soon might be.

I won’t be able to see her again, he’d thought, the delight giving way to desolation. Not alone, anyway. I shall have to be very, very careful …

Suddenly, he realised that his aircraft wasn’t lifting as it should. Almost at the end of the runway, it was still only half off the ground – and he was heading straight for the lump of craggy rock that marked the perimeter. Jerked back from his drifting thoughts, he fought to bring up the nose, let out a sharp breath of relief as it began to come up, then gasped as it dropped again. He screamed a curse as the plane teetered in the air, one wing dipping sideways. Even now, if he could just clear the rock – yes, he was almost there – he could do it. They were up … and then the tip of the propeller just shaved along the roughened edge. The plane tipped sideways, swung violently round, and dug its way into the ground.

Stefan looked up from his crazy position in the cockpit and saw the rest of the squadron passing overhead. He swore again in his native Polish and then passed out.

‘Bear down,’ the midwife said. ‘You’ve got to help yourself here, Mrs Knight. Here – hold on to this towel.’ She twisted a hand towel into a rope and fastened it to the iron bedhead. ‘Now, pull on that and bear down hard.’

‘I can’t,’ Alison moaned. ‘I can’t do it any more. Can’t I have a rest?’

‘Only if Baby says so, I’m afraid.’ The nurse looked round as the door opened and Matron popped her head in. ‘It’s going very slow, ma’am. The pains are still five minutes apart, but they’re so strong. She’s getting proper worn out.’

‘There’s nothing we can do about it.’ Matron came in and looked down at the sweating figure on the bed. She laid one hand on the swollen abdomen. ‘Listen to me, Mrs Knight. Your baby will come in its own time and not before. There’s no use fighting this, you just have to let yourself go with it. Try to relax …’

‘I
can’t
relax!’

‘… and just bear down as the pain asks you to do. That’s what it is, you see – it’s the only way your body has of telling you what to do. Bearing down will make you feel more comfortable, and each time you do it your baby will be a little closer to being born.’

‘It hurts!’ Alison screamed.

‘I know, but it’s Nature’s way. It will all be over soon and you’ll have a lovely baby.’

‘I don’t want a baby! I just want this to stop!’

Matron nodded. She’d heard it all before, and she knew that once the baby was born Alison would forget – or deny – that she’d ever said such things. ‘It will all be over soon,’ she said, patting Alison’s hand, and then turned her head sharply as they heard a commotion outside.

‘Whatever’s going on? Stay here, Nurse. I’ll be back as soon as possible.’ The older woman hurried out, closing the door behind her, and Alison began to groan again as a fresh wave of pain crept up her body and tightened its hold, like an iron band, about her stomach.

‘What’s happening?’ she panted as the wave receded. ‘I can hear a man’s voice – is it Andrew?’

‘Are you expecting him to come?’

‘I want him to come. Is he here? Let him come, please. I want him!’

‘No!’ the midwife exclaimed, shocked. ‘Of course he can’t come in here. In any case, I don’t think he’s here. Now, you stop worrying about your husband, Mrs Knight, and think about yourself and your baby. It’ll be here soon.’ The sound of voices outside grew louder and she glanced over her shoulder a little anxiously. It certainly didn’t sound like the usual subdued murmur of visiting time, yet why else would a man – several men, by the sound of it – be here? Apart from husbands and workmen like plumbers or handymen, the only male visitors were the local doctors. These voices didn’t sound like any of those.

Matron came in again. Her lips were folded with disapproval. She looked down at Alison, who was tensing her body as the contraction began again.

‘Do you happen to know a Polish pilot?’ she enquired rather frostily. ‘I believe his name is Dabrowski.’

‘Why, that’s Stefan!’ Alison screwed up her face as the pain swelled around her. ‘Stefan!’ she screamed. ‘
Stefan
!’

‘Mrs Knight – please!’ The appalled midwife turned to Matron, who drew herself up with displeasure. ‘Please, you really mustn’t call out like that. Why, he might hear you.’

‘I
want
him to hear me,’ Alison sobbed, her body sagging again. ‘I want him to hear me, I want to see him. I want somebody with me.’

‘
We’re
with you.’

‘I want someone I
love
,’ she cried. ‘I want someone who loves
me
!’

Matron took a breath and spoke in a stern voice. ‘Mrs Knight, be quiet at once. You don’t know what you’re saying. Now, forget about what’s going on outside, or who’s there, and concentrate on why you’re here. You’re having a baby. That’s all that matters. Stop behaving like a silly girl and calm down. The pains are there for you to work with. Stop fighting them. The sooner you do that, the sooner your baby will be born, but if you carry on like this you may even harm it. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, Matron,’ Alison whispered.

‘I should think so, too. Now, I’ll go and sort out whatever’s happening outside while you and Mrs Phelps here get on with your work. And when I come back, I shall expect to find that this baby is very close to being born, and there’ll have been no more of this silly behaviour. The idea!’ she said to herself as she left the room. ‘The very idea!’

Stefan had been taken to another room. He was lying back on a narrow hospital bed when Matron came in and gave him an icy look. He summoned up his most charming smile.

‘Madam, I have to give you my thanks for taking me in. My plane crashed …’

‘So I understand,’ she said. ‘What I
don’t
understand is why you were brought here. Surely there’s a hospital on the airfield?’

‘There is. I do not know why I was brought here.’ He tried the smile again. ‘They didn’t ask me, you see. I was not conscious.’

She stepped forward and laid a professional hand on his brow. ‘Well, you seem to be now. But I suppose we’d better keep you for a while, to make sure there’s no concussion, at least until one of your own doctors can come and attend to you. It’s most irregular, however. This is a maternity home, not a casualty clearing station.’

‘I know. I’m very sorry.’ The smile was even more winning. ‘However, I promise not to have a baby to cause you more nuisance.’

‘Really!’ she exclaimed, but he saw her lips quiver very slightly, as if the ice had begun to thaw a little. ‘You will not be permitted to be a nuisance,’ she went on firmly. ‘A nurse will come along to examine you and attend to your injuries, which seem to be very slight, and you’ll then stay in this room until a doctor can come. Please don’t detain my nurses longer than you have to.’ Her look told him that she knew all about Polish pilots and their ways with nurses. ‘As I’ve already explained, this is a maternity home and we have a patient in labour at this very moment.’

‘Ah, yes,’ he said. ‘And I believe she is a friend of mine. Mrs Knight, not so?’