Chapter Eight

Ted focused all his attention on Madge. And Madge was so absorbed by Ted that she didn’t know anyone else existed. This left Kitty and Sammy in an awkward position—strangers with little to talk about. Add to that the longing Kitty felt when Ted’s expressive lips curved up into that infectious smile. A smile he directed at Madge, not her.

Kitty forced her attention away from the flirting man and glanced out the window. “It’s a beautiful day,” she commented, wishing she could escape Ted’s company.

“Yeah,” Sammy followed her gaze. “Makes you want to get outside.”

Kitty turned to face Sammy. She had an idea, if he was willing. “You wouldn’t be interested in going for a walk, would you?”

“Walk? Where?”

He actually sounded interested in her idea.

“A woman in a shop told me about some old Norman ruins just outside of town.”

“Sounds interesting.” He glanced over at Ted and Madge with their heads together whispering. “You think they’ll want to go.”

Kitty shook her head. She knew Madge. Walking into the village had been more than enough of nature for her.

Kitty touched her friend’s arm to get her attention. “We’re going on that walk I told you about. We’ll be back later.”

“That’s swell.” Madge barely glanced away from Ted.

When Kitty and Sammy stood, Ted got up and walked with them toward the bar. “You two have fun. We’ll just stay here, listen to some music.” He signaled for the bartender to bring another round.

Kitty couldn’t resist staring at his sparkling blue eyes, eyes focused on Sammy, not her. She’d dreamed about those eyes, dreamed of him seeing only her, wanting only her. But he didn’t even see her, barely glanced her way.

The real man was nothing like she imagined. She didn’t even like him that much. He was pleasant enough, smiling, joking. Never serious, always looking for a good time. And although he focused his attention on Madge, he’d admitted that he just wanted to have fun.

On the other hand, Madge was crazy about him.

Madge loved men, loved flirting with them, loved them chasing her, loved them fighting over her. This time it was different. Madge was the one stuck on the guy. And the one time it happened, it had to be him, Kitty’s dream man.

Kitty couldn’t control the jealousy that crept forth from some dark place within.

It wasn’t fair. Madge got all the men. Why couldn’t Kitty have gotten the only man she ever wanted? The one she’d dreamed about?

She had to get out of there. Had to get away from him.

Out in the fresh air, she tried to clear her head and focus on where they were going. She recounted the directions she had been given, and Sammy nodded. The two of them strolled down the street. She glanced at him and wondered if he had noticed her desperation to get away.

Sammy remained quiet, and yet he appeared to enjoy being outside as much as she did.

For the first time in a long time, Kitty decided to let go, to enjoy her freedom. Even though she wasn’t alone, she was outside, and she was doing something she enjoyed rather than following orders.

They walked along the road to the east, setting a steady but leisurely pace. Knowing Sammy was recovering from a hospital stay, she didn’t want to push him too hard. She didn’t want to appear nosy, so she didn’t ask him about his injuries.

Instead she told him “We can stop and rest anytime you want.”

“Thanks, but I’m fine. It’s actually good to get out and walk. It’ll get my strength up.”

Kitty’s thoughts returned to Ted. Maybe Sammy could fill her in. “Have you known Ted long?”

“A while, yes.” He thought for a moment. “Ted’s a good sort. Lots of fun.”

“I’ve noticed.” She hadn’t meant to sound as sarcastic as she did.

“Don’t you like him?”

“I haven’t decided.” She tried to offer an explanation without sounding too interested. “He’s always joking. Never serious. It’s like he’s hiding something…or maybe himself.”

He smiled and nodded. “Yeah, that’s Bear. He kids about everything. That’s just how he is, uses humor to deal with everything.” He gazed into the distance. “Right now he’s grieving.”

“I don’t understand.” Grieving was the last thing she would have thought of to describe Ted.

“His crew. Shot down a few days after he was wounded.”

She didn’t know how to respond. Ted’s friends had died. Just like those men in that bomber she’d seen explode over the airfield. She couldn’t imagine how painful it must have been for him.

“They came to visit him in the hospital, soon after I got there,” Sammy continued. “The officers, I mean. Even through the fog of the pain killers, I remember their laughter. They were giving Ted a hard time about getting hit in the rear end. And he gave right back. He was lovin’ it.” Sammy paused, remembering. “He told me later the four of them were like brothers.”

“How did he take it…when he found out they’d all been killed?”

“Hard.” Sammy shook his head and flattened his lips in a frown. “He said he wished he’d gone with them.” He glanced over at Kitty and caught her gaze. “Your friend’s good for him. She’s given him something to think about, to look forward to.” He looked away. “Life goes on, you know.”

“And what about you?”

“Me? Oh, I’m fine. Next week I go back to Allsford. Start flying again.” He paused a few seconds before continuing. “Ted’s lucky, getting assigned to headquarters. He might just survive this thing.”

****

They reached the lane the Englishwoman told her about. It led across a pasture and up a sloping hill. Beneath the thick grass, deep indentations marked the path where, for untold years, wheeled vehicles had plodded their way up to the castle. Now only sheep grazed the hillside.

She drove thoughts of Ted from her mind. He’d chosen Madge. And it was probably for the best.

“The history books say the Normans crossed the channel and conquered this land centuries ago. To hold it, they built fortresses to withstand attacks from their enemies.” Kitty relayed the story she’d read while waiting to be shipped overseas.

“It’s strange how many wars have been fought over here and how old everything is,” Sammy said. His pace slowed on the uneven ground.

“Are you interested in history?” she asked.

He laughed. “I always thought the Civil War was ancient history. And the Revolution, well, I guess that seemed like the beginning of time. I never thought much about anything that happened before that.”

Kitty hid her disappointment in her companion’s lack of interest. At least he came along, instead of sitting in a pub all afternoon. She continued her history lesson. “We fought the Revolution to get free from the English. This country was around a long time before the United States got started. Our ancestors came from over here—at least mine did.”

When Sammy didn’t reply, she looked back. He’d stopped to watch two lambs frolicking in the grass nearby. They were much more entertaining than her musings about the past.

The sunken road curved around the wide-spread limbs of an ancient oak that stood guard on the lower portion of the slope. Beyond it the track became steeper.

Eager to reach the top, Kitty forged ahead.

“Look,” she exclaimed. “There it is. The old wall.” The stones at the crest of the hill sent a thrill through her as if she’d found some lost pyramid. She glanced back at Sammy who was looking up, too. She stifled her desire to dash ahead and patiently waited for him to make his way.

The path wound around the hillside until what looked like the remains of two towers came into view. They must have flanked the entrance to the fortress.

Kitty rushed on, imagining what these still-mighty stone structures would have looked like to approaching travelers. Mounted knights would have ridden through the gate to pay homage to their lord. Flags would have flown from high up on the walls. And watchmen would have called down from their towers to identify the visitors.

Sammy reached her side, but instead of looking up at the crumbling walls, he took in the view from the hilltop.

Kitty turned around to see what those imaginary watchmen would have seen. The sight took her breath. Spread out before her were fields of different shapes and shades, like a patchwork quilt with no apparent design. Roads became mere lines dividing the shapes, interrupted by an occasional roof or cluster of trees.

Her attention returned to the wall, unable to resist the feel of the rough, hand-cut stones, stones that stood here before her ancestors came to America, before Ellingham Castle was built. The history of England lay beneath her fingertips, tangible history that didn’t come from books. Touching these stones made all the stories of castles and knights of long ago real.

Kitty’s gaze roamed upward. “How high do you think it is? Twenty feet?” She wondered what she could see if she climbed to the top. Could she see as far as the channel?

“I don’t know,” he replied, clearly tired from the steep climb. He found a spot to sit, leaning against the wall, where he could survey the surrounding countryside.

“Why don’t you sit there and rest while I explore?”

He nodded. “I think I will.” He pulled a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket. “Too bad we didn’t think to bring something to drink.” He held out the pack to offer her one.

“No. But you go ahead.”

Amiably, he lit a cigarette and waved her to go on and explore.

Satisfied to leave him behind, curiosity spurred her through the undergrowth partially blocking the old gateway. Instead of an open area, or bailey, inside the wall, she found a jumble of stones with bushes and trees growing up through them.

In her mind she could see the lord’s stonemasons removing stones to use as building material for his new castle. Local farmers would have scavenged for foundation stones for their homes and barns. Archeology and the preservation of history would have been far from their minds. This site probably provided much of the building materials for the surrounding area.

Kitty searched for a way to climb up to the highest remaining portion of the wall. She finally managed to pick her way from stone to stone until she stood near the top of the old ramparts. Straining her eyes, she searched the horizon for the English Channel she knew lay only a few miles to the east, but a haze obscured her view.

The panorama before her was magnificent. Far to the right, tiny, moving specks caught her eye. She guessed they were planes, bombers returning from their flights over Europe. The present intruded on the past with its subtle reminder of the violence so far away and yet so close.

The stone wobbled beneath her feet. She looked down and, for a second, envisioned herself falling from the unsteady precipice. In the blink of an eye, her beautiful day could end in tragedy. Cautiously she balanced herself and step by step retraced the route she had taken to reach the summit.

Once on the ground she relaxed. The momentary danger behind her, she smiled at her own foolishness. Milton would have taken her to task for climbing the wall. Of course, he would have led the way, telling her to remain behind where it was safe.

She ventured back through the gateway where Sammy waited.

He was content to sit and enjoy the view. She sank down beside her companion and leaned back against the aged stones to rest and absorb the sunshine.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He smiled and leaned toward her. For a moment she wondered if he would try to kiss her. He’d been a perfect gentleman, so far. But she’d learned that men could change very quickly.

She nodded and looked away, unsure what she wanted.

“Thanks for bringing me along.”

“You’re welcome. It hasn’t been too much for you, has it?”

“No. It’s good for me to get out and walk.”

“Are you looking forward to seeing your friends when you get back to your base?”

He nodded, thoughtfully. “I guess.”

With his non-committal answer, she decided to drop the subject. She pulled her knees up and rested her chin on them. Perhaps silence was safer than trying to talk.

She gazed out over the idyllic setting and made a conscious effort to preserve the moment in her memory. The fresh, clean country air filled her lungs. In the trees, leaves danced in the gentle breeze. Birds twittered among the branches. Scattered through the pasture below her, wild flowers raised their colorful faces to the sun. Sheep munched the plentiful grass. All was right with the world.

Something rumbled behind them. A dark gray, almost purple sky closed in from the north.

Sammy pushed himself to his feet. “Time to go,” he announced, as if she didn’t know what they had to do.

She followed him back down the winding, narrow lane.

The wind whipped around them, much cooler than moments before. They picked up their pace and made their way around the giant oak before the first raindrop hit them.

Kitty looked up. Fat splats of liquid fell all around them. One landed on her arm. Another hit her cheek. They pelted her back and shoulders.

When they reached the road, she and Sammy exchanged a quick glance. He nodded and called to her, “Let’s go.”

They broke into a jog along the wet pavement.

How far was it back to the village? She tried to remember. It had seemed such a short distance when they started.

Water splashed into her shoes. Her skirt clung to her legs. The rain soon soaked through her uniform jacket. The dampness reached her arms and shoulders.

The blowing rain came down at an angle. Sammy turned up the collar of his uniform jacket and held it together at the neck. His crusher cap provided little protection.

When they rounded a curve in the road, the rain hit them smack in the face. Kitty put her hand up to shield her eyes. Water seeped down her collar. Her hair, weighed down with dampness, pulled free from its pins, and stray curls turned into wild tangles.

Finally houses appeared in the mist, and the road brought them into town. A short way up the street, the Blue Ram’s sign swayed in the blowing rain. They made a final dash for what she prayed would be a warm, dry haven.