57

ZOOM!

WHOOSH!

A huge sense of relief washed over the boy as he realised that he and his grandfather were now airborne.

“Up, up and away!” said the old man.

“Up, up and away!” repeated Jack.

The back wheels on the Spitfire’s undercarriage just clipped the roof of one of the police cars in the roadblock, causing the plane to wobble a little. But they were clear.

Now they were heading straight towards the historic Savoy Hotel. But Grandpa pulled the control column back and the plane shot up high in the sky. The old man couldn’t help but show off to the policemen on the ground and performed a victory roll in the plane.

This was much like a killer whale leaping above the waves just to prove its absolute superiority over every other living thing.

The Spitfire was like that. She was the greatest warplane ever built. And behind the controls was one of the RAF’s greatest ever pilots.

In Grandpa’s hands, the old plane handled like a brand-new racing car. She could turn on a sixpence; Grandpa flew so close to St Paul’s Cathedral his grandson’s heart nearly missed a beat. Then the fighter plane powered along the River Thames past HMS Belfast, straight towards Tower Bridge. Just as the two sides of the bridge were opening, Grandpa accelerated the Spitfire, and she zoomed straight through.

For the first time in his short life, Jack felt truly alive. Free.

“She is all yours, Squadron Leader,” said Grandpa.

The boy couldn’t believe his ears. His grandfather was giving him control of the fighter plane.

“If you are sure, Wing Commander?”

“Roger!”

With that, the old man took his hands away from the control column and the boy held it tight. Just as his grandfather had taught him, he only needed to make the tiniest of movements for the plane to respond.

Jack wanted to touch the sky. He pulled the control column back and the plane raced up, up and up. They sped through some clouds and there was the sun. A ball of blazing fire lighting up the sky.

Above the clouds they were alone at last. London was far below them, above them only space.

“I want to do a loop-the-loop, sir!”

“Roger!”

Then the boy pulled the lever sharply towards him and the plane arced in the sky. Now they were upside down! Nothing else mattered aside from this moment. All of the past and all of the future meant nothing next to this.

Keeping his hands on the control column, the plane was soon the right way up again. Had that been seconds? Minutes?

Nothing mattered. Nothing else mattered. Nothing that had ever happened before mattered. Nothing that was ever going to happen mattered. All there was, was NOW.

The boy took in every single thing. The force pinning him to the seat. The sound of the engine. The smell of the petrol.

The Spitfire levelled out and skimmed the clouds, heading straight for the sun.

Then out of the blinding red light ahead of them, they could see two mysterious black dots emerging. The light was so blinding, it was impossible at first to see what these dots were. But they were travelling at speed towards them.