Page 37 of Never Tear Us Apart

Chapter Thirty-Five

By the time Vittoria and I get the pram back onto the bus, Danny is already sitting in the back seat, his arms outstretched either side of him, as if he’s on a pleasant Sunday-afternoon trip, like he hasn’t a care in the world.

The other passengers have crammed into every other part of the vehicle, letting him have the whole back row to himself. The doctor’s little boy stares at him over the back of the seat in front. His mother puts her hand on top of her son’s head and turns it away.

Danny gives me a bone-weary smile and pats the seat next to him. I gesture down at the pram that is blocking my way.

‘You must go,’ Vittoria tells me, lifting the pram out of the way just enough so that I can squeeze past. Everyone on the bus is looking at me. ‘It’s so romantic! Go,’ she urges, her eyes full of stars, as I roll my own.

I make my way up to Danny, doing my best not to look anyone in the face, especially him.

‘How are you coping?’ I ask as I sit down next to him. At once, his weight leans into mine.

‘I’m in shock, I guess,’ he replies, keeping his voice low so that only I can hear.

‘Like nothing seems real, and maybe all this – you, even – is a trick. Sometime later tonight, I’m gonna cry for my ma and tremble and shake, and even take a goddamn drink.

But I ain’t gonna let these good folk see that.

They don’t want no shaking wreck patrolling their skies.

They need to believe I’m Errol goddamn Flynn, a bona fide hero, and not just some no-good fool trying to stay alive. ’

His honesty shocks me, and moves me too.

‘You are a hero.’ I turn to look at his profile. His skin is still streaked with smoke, his eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot. His sweaty hair falls matted over the bridge of his nose. ‘How the hell did you get that plane down? It looked hopeless.’

‘Well, you got to know your Spit like she’s the love of your life, see?

’ Danny says, with the ghost of a smile that shows genuine affection.

‘So, you know what’s gonna make her smile and what’s gonna make her purr.

That’s what it’s like when it’s you and your gal in the sky – it’s like a marriage: one part intuition, one part heart, and then the rest is hard study.

When you know her, when you really know her, then when the time comes, you don’t have to think about what to do.

Your body already knows. You put her in a sweet spot, and even if she’s on fire, she’ll still give you anything you ask of her.

If you know how to ask her right, that is. ’

‘Do they teach you flirting at pilot school, or are you just a natural?’ I ask, wanting to give him some distraction.

But when his eyes meet mine, they are intense and full of fear.

‘That goddamn plane wasn’t shot at – just something loose in the engine.

That’s no way to go in a war.’ Barely repressed anger threads through every hushed word.

‘There’s no honour in death by rivet. I fought that goddamn rivet harder than I’ve fought any Nazi.

I guess I could have just sat back and let it happen, but that ain’t me, Stitches.

I was gonna wrestle that bitch into the damn ground and make sure that when it’s my turn, it’s for a good reason. ’

‘You did it. You are an incredible pilot.’

‘I am.’ He nods, swallows hard; tears threaten. ‘But no matter what you say, it takes a damn good slug of luck to walk away from something like that.’

On the last word, his voice catches, and on instinct, I take his hand. This time, it’s him squeezing my fingers hard.

‘You fly better than anyone else on this island. You just proved that.’

‘Not that hard,’ Danny says. ‘I ain’t like a lot of those other boys that only learnt to fly a month or two ago.

I’ve been flying since I turned eleven and got a job dusting crops out at the local aerodrome.

It’s as natural for me to be up there as it is for fish to swim in the sea.

I know that’s where I’ll meet my maker someday.

But I’ll be damned if it’s over a goddamn rivet.

’ He shakes his head. ‘My ma would scold me over all that cussing.’

‘I’ve heard worse,’ I tell him.

‘Can I tell you something?’ he asks.

‘Go ahead.’

‘When I saw your face today, right there when I opened my eyes, I thought I was dead. I thought it would be you I’d see in the second I died – the girl I can’t stop thinking about.’

The bus jolts to a sudden stop. Two army jeeps block the road. A handful of men in flight dress scramble out.

‘Shucks, the fellers must have seen me falling out the sky and come to see if I’m toast,’ Danny says, clambering up, swaying his way down the aisle of the bus and out onto the road to another round of spontaneous applause.

For a minute, I stay in my seat, stunned by what he just said. Then I follow him.

‘Hey, fellers, sorry to disappoint you, but Danny Beauchamp is still the ace round these parts. You all are just gonna have to play second fiddle to me some more.’

‘Good God, man.’ A Brit claps him on the back. ‘Felt sure you’d bought it when I saw your tail go up.’

‘Damn near did. Where’s the CO?’ Danny asks.

‘On the blower to the general, trying to scare up more Spits,’ another tells him. ‘Trouble is: we keep crashing them faster than the erks can repair them. Come on, we’ve come to take you back to base for a debrief.’

He’s being cajoled back into the jeeps when he stops suddenly, as if he’s forgotten something. He turns around and walks back to where I’m watching from the doorway of the bus.

‘I ain’t gonna dress it up,’ he says. ‘Truth is, I like you, Stitches.’

‘I like you, Flight Lieutenant,’ I tell him.

‘Maybe we could take a walk, you and I, sometime, if we’re both still alive on my next rest day. See if we might like each other some more?’

‘I think that would be nice, if I’m here.’

Danny considers this for a moment. ‘Hard to know if any of us will be here tomorrow.’

Taking my hand, he makes a deep bow and kisses it. His friends cheer as he jogs back to the jeep, and in a couple of minutes, they are leaving at speed, a cloud of dust following on behind.

‘Flight Lieutenant Danny Beauchamp likes you,’ Vittoria says, clasping her hands to her chest as I step back into the bus. ‘You will marry a hero!’

Suddenly, her wide eyes seem to float away from her face, and I feel something stronger than gravity grabbing onto my ankles and pulling me down and down.

The sky rolls back to reveal stars burning fiercely in the void.

I see an infinite number of moments raining all around me, a version of me in every one of them.

‘Vitt . . .’ The words come thick and half-formed. ‘I’m . . . fainting. Get me to Sal. To Sal. Just Sal . . . No doctor.’

There’s no chance to see if she understands before I’m raked out of this body, feeling the tear and wrench of every severed nerve ending burn through whatever it is I am and cast into who knows where.