The Final Flight

³⁰ WEDNESDAY 6TH JULY

In their final chat on Tuesday evening, Susie had dubbed it ‘Normal Wednesday’, urging Rob to play the part of the TFU lackey. Toe the line. Head down.

“Throw Kilton off the scent. He’ll be writing up your special commendation for delivering the project rather than worrying what you’ll do next.”

At the tea bar, he was nervous. He couldn’t believe that his colleagues didn’t know Mary had walked out.

But he drank tea, laughed when he could, and threw himself into the planning for two more Guiding Light trips.

According to the truncated project timetable, they had nine hours and twelve minutes left to log. Kilton wanted the jet in the air morning and afternoon. Log four hours today and four tomorrow, leaving the ceremonial final flight with around sixty minutes to complete the minimum requirement.

After an uneventful morning trip to Yorkshire and back, Rob took himself off to the mess for lunch.

JR was at a table by himself. It would be too out of the ordinary for Rob to join him, so he loitered by his side for just a moment as he passed with his drink in hand.

“All ready?” He kept his voice low.

JR looked up and nodded.

“She’s fixed and waiting for you, Flight Lieutenant. I’ll pick you up at 7.30AM.”

ROB NODDED.

He avoided the bar after work and went home, remembering to casually mention to Red and Jock that he wasn’t feeling one hundred per cent.

Twice he picked up the phone and dialled the Laverstocks’. On both occasions he hung up before the line connected.

It was unbearable, not speaking to Mary. But Susie had warned that any contact might upset him. Throw a spanner in the works at the wrong time.

The light faded. He finished a bottle of wine as a distraction from the silence. At 10.30PM he went to bed, praying for a good night’s sleep, although he knew it was unlikely to come.

He turned onto his side and closed his eyes, imagining Millie sitting next to JR in the cockpit of the Anson. Holdall behind him.

Alone on a mission to save lives.