Chapter Forty-Three

Doris slumped back into Penny’s seat and let out a sigh of relief.

“If you’ve quite finished, Doris Winter, any chance of having my seat back?” Penny asked, standing over her with her arms crossed.

“Hmm? Oh, sorry,” she muttered, getting to her feet.

Jane poked her head around the corner of her office. “Any reason you’re not over at the flight line getting ready, Doris?”

Shaking her head, Doris held out the seat for Penny to sit down before asking, “Sorry about that, boss.” Picking up her bag, Doris strode to the door before turning back. “It’s something I was thinking about after last night.”

Jane appeared at a scramble by her side. “You do know Walter’s going to be all right? We were all there when you all but threw Penny off the telephone to call the hospital, and the doctor told you he would be.”

Doris managed a smile. “I know, and I’m sorry about last night, Penny.”

“Considering the circumstances, I’ll forgive you,” Penny told her.

“What were you thinking about, then?” Jane asked.

“That with my history of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, together with the fact that now Walter’s not going to be out of the hospital in time for the wedding, and all that’s gone on this past couple of weeks, we should bring it forward. I’m not going to postpone it again!”

“Well, it’s certainly been a hectic, trying time, I can’t deny that,” Jane agreed.

Penny asked, “And does this have anything to do with who you were just phoning?”

Doris nodded. “That was the padre. He’s agreed to marry us at the hospital on Saturday afternoon. That’s if—and I suppose I should have checked with you first, Jane, sorry—we’ve got that afternoon off?”

Jane frowned and turned back to her office, coming back a few seconds later bearing her diary. “Yes, I wanted to double-check before saying anything. Our refueling system’s down for maintenance that day, so there’s no flying. Saturday will be fine. Any idea what time?”

Doris looked sheepish. There was no other way to put it.

“You haven’t agreed the time yet, have you,” Jane stated.

“Not quite.”

“Not quite?”

“That’s why I was speaking to the padre. He’s on better terms with the staff at the hospital than I am, so he agreed to go and speak to them while we’re out on deliveries today.”

Jane sighed and shook her head, though by the time she looked up she was smiling. “You don’t believe in doing things the easy way, do you.”

“Sorry.” Doris shrugged.

“All right,” Jane decided, shutting her diary. “Get yourself over to the flight line hut and get changed. I’m sure the taxi’s almost ready to go by now. Penny and I’ve got some things to sort out.”

“I’ll just nip into the mess and tell Mavis of the date change first,” Doris said, before throwing a quick salute at the pair. She took off at a run, and Penny turned to where Jane was watching the departing American. “I didn’t think the maintenance was due for another week.”

Jane shook her head before turning back and closing the door against the chill morning air. “It isn’t—or rather, it wasn’t.” Penny looked confused.

Disappearing back into her office for a few seconds, Jane reappeared with a bottle of American bourbon, turning the bottle around to stare at the label. When she looked back at Penny, it was with a sad smile. “Frank gave this to me. I was going to keep it to celebrate the end of the war, but I can put it to better use today. Wish me luck!” She glanced up. “I’ve got an engineering staff to bribe!”

****

“There’s your tea, Croft,” Terry said, placing a steaming cup before their prisoner. Turning the statement which had just been signed, he asked, “Anything else you want to say?”

Croft shook his head, wincing as he inadvertently moved his right shoulder. Rubbing his arm through the sling he wore, he picked up the mug in his left hand, blew on it, and took a quick sip. “No, that’s exactly as I remember things.”

Lawrence looked over from his desk, regarding the strange scene before him. Only rarely had he conducted a major interview anywhere but in an interview room. To be truthful, he’d never done so, but something had told him that going against correct protocol would bring them the best results this time. Hiding a smile behind his cup, he was very pleased to have been proved right.

“How’s the shoulder?” he asked.

Stopping himself from shrugging barely in time, Croft replied, “I’ve had worse. Doctors told me the bullet wasn’t a problem to take out, and it didn’t break a bone.”

“Lucky man,” Lawrence commented, before prodding the rifle before him. “Rather strange, though. This is a Lee-Enfield. A three-oh-three round, at the range you told me you were shot at, I’m surprised it didn’t blow your shoulder off.”

Croft gave a small smile, telling the policemen, “That’s probably because the ammunition was some my old dad brought back from the Great War. It wasn’t exactly stored in the best place, so I’m not surprised it’s lost a lot of its power.”

“I suppose that’s also the reason you missed Third Officer Winter and Mr. Johnson that night?” Lawrence asked, watching Croft carefully for any sign of hesitation, or a change to what he’d put in the statement.

“A bit,” Croft replied, “but I was also aiming to deliberately miss.”

“Not by much,” Terry commented.

“What can I say? I’m a good shot,” Croft replied.

“Perhaps too good,” Lawrence agreed, only getting a small smile in reply.

Taking his cue from his Inspector, Terry waited until he got the nod. “Constable!” he called, sticking his head around the office door and then stepping back to admit a uniformed officer. Addressing Croft, he told him, “To your feet, Croft. We’re sending you to the hospital for another check-up, and then it’s off to prison with you.”

Obediently getting to his feet, Croft quickly finished his tea and didn’t object when the constable took him by the left elbow. However, once he got to the door, he turned his head. “Do we have a deal?”

Without nodding his head in any way, Lawrence looked up and told him, “So long as what’s in your statement checks out, I’ll speak to the judge.” He picked up another piece of paper. “You also seem to have made a bit of a friend in Fred, the fish ’n’ chip shop owner. He’s put in a good word, so you’ve got that going for you too.”

Croft seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, then allowed himself to be led out of the room.

Once he’d gone, Terry went over and closed the door. “What do you think?”

Lawrence picked up the statement before quickly putting it down again. “Well, from what we’ve seen at the incident sites, everything tallies with what this says,” he stated, tapping the statement sheet.

“I know I shouldn’t, but I’ve my fingers crossed,” Terry uttered, picking up his own mug. “If we can get that scumbag Verdon back into the nick, I’ll consider it a very good week. Do you mind my asking, boss, how’s Doris?”

What could only be called an evil grin spread over Lawrence’s face. “Still sticking to her story.”

“You know, old rifles, they do have a tendency to misfire,” Terry replied, hiding his mouth behind his mug.

Lawrence tried to hide a laugh. “That they do. Still, he’ll live.”

“Bit of a shame he won’t be able to have children, though,” Terry mentioned, at which point he had to put his mug down on the table and take a seat. “Misfire or not, it was a hell of a good shot.”

“I’m very glad that door’s closed, or I’d have to give you a rollocking for that remark, Terry.”

“Sorry, boss,” Terry said, not sounding in the least bit sorry.

“Not sure I’ve ever seen anyone press their knee to someone’s groin to stop bleeding before, either,” Lawrence said, not helping matters as his shoulders began to shake in unmistakable laughter too.

“Do you think Walter knows what he’s letting himself in for?”

Lawrence stopped laughing to think the question through, and said, “You know, I think he does.”

“Well, it’s going to be an interesting talk with Verdon, once he’s up to it, anyway,” Terry mused. “Do you think he’s going to try to blame this whole hare-brained scheme onto Croft?”

“Without a doubt,” Lawrence quickly replied. “However, what with the chippy’s statement, and what we’ve already gathered, and undoubtedly we’ll add to that over the coming days too, I don’t think a jury will be taken in. Don’t forget, the girls are witnesses to him barging in and threatening to kill Betty, too.”

“I doubt we’ll see trouble from him again, then,” Terry said. “How about Croft? He’s not the nicest of villains, and one good turn can’t defend a lifetime of crime.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Lawrence agreed. “However, a promise is a promise, and he did risk his life. Not only to save Betty, but also for his actions with Fred. I believe the judge and jury will take that into account. I may ask the judge if he’ll be willing to let me speak to his regiment, see if they’d take him back. I don’t know where it’s come from, but he seems to have become quite the patriot! Perhaps after a spell inside a military prison, he’ll turn into a good soldier.”

****

Not having bothered to get changed, Doris came racing up to the ops hut still in her Sidcot suit. “How did it go? Have you heard from him?”

“I assume you mean the padre?” Penny said, putting the receiver back onto its cradle. “Good timing. That was him.”

“And?” Doris asked, when Penny didn’t carry on, instead finishing off a biscuit.

“And he’s squared everything with the hospital. He’s also got Walter moved into a side ward on his own, so you’ll have some privacy.”

“Woo-hoo!” Doris rejoiced, punching the air.

“Not that much privacy,” Jane teased, causing Doris to go cherry red with embarrassment.

“Eleven in the morning, before I forget,” Penny added.

“Eleven! Oh, God, that’s in…” She staggered back against a desk and tried to count on her fingers.

“Somewhere less than two days,” Jane helpfully supplied.

Doris nearly fainted.

“Oh, no, you don’t!” Jane told her, darting forward and grabbing her before she slid to the floor. Slapping her lightly on the cheek, Jane quickly brought her back to her senses and led her to a seat.

“Sorry,” Doris mumbled once her eyes regained their focus. “I think it’s just hitting me. I’m getting married in less than two days!”

“Breathe, just breathe,” Jane urged.

“There you are!” Mary’s voice said, closely followed by Mary herself.

Betty came in behind her and, quickly taking in what was happening, made her way to Doris’s side. “Is she okay?” She looked up at Jane from where she’d knelt down.

“She’s fine,” Doris assured. “I’m just abusing the privilege of the bride being fussed over.”

“In that case,” Penny said, coming to joining the others, “you’ll be pleased to know that Celia’s coming down on the late train tomorrow night. You’re under orders, by the way, not to get married until she arrives. That’s in case there’s any trouble with the train.”

“Great!” Doris replied, and then made the mistake of trying to stand up—and had to sit back down.

“Whilst you’re still our captive audience,” Jane joined in, “I’m sure you’ll be pleased to hear that Shirley’s also flying down tomorrow afternoon.”

“Brilliant!” Betty was the first to speak up. “I can’t wait to see her. She can’t have long left on her course.”

“Just over a month, I think,” Jane replied.

Apparently recovered, Doris stood up, gripped the edge of the table whilst her friends watched her carefully, and clapped her hands together. “Right, girls! Time to get home. We’ve got to finish off the cake, make sure everything else is in tip-top shape for Saturday, and… What was it? Oh, I’d better go to the hospital and make sure Walter’s all right with this.”

“I thought you said you’d talked this over with him,” Mary said.

“We have,” Doris said, swaying a little as she bent to pick up her bag. “I just really need to see him after, well…you know, the other operation. I need to make sure he’s still okay with this.”

“Betty, you go with Doris, please. We’ll get things home for you both,” Jane decided.

After the two had left, with Betty fussing around Doris like a mother hen, Mary went to get changed, and Penny asked the one question left she needed an answer to. “How did things go with the mechs?”

Jane let out a small laugh. “Let’s put it this way…it’s fortunate Doris is popular with them.”

****

“Doris!”

Looking over her shoulder, Doris turned to find one of her favorite people in the village waving and walking toward her. “Fred!” she shouted and grabbed hold of Betty’s hand, waiting for her chip shop friend to meet them. She firmly shook his hand. “It’s very good to see you again. How’re you feeling?”

A reasonably large man, Fred nevertheless came across as one of the most gentle souls she knew, and it hurt her to see pain cross his face as he rubbed his jaw.

“It could have been much worse. My jaw’s got a slight crack to it, the doctor tells me, but it’ll be all right.”

Doris leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m very pleased to hear that. Look, if you’re not doing anything on Saturday, come to my wedding! Eleven in the morning, at the hospital.”

Fred mustered a smile. “That’s very kind of you,” he said. “That brings me to what I wanted to talk to you about. Have you got a meal for the party afterwards? I’m assuming there’s going to be a party?”

“Of course,” Betty answered for Doris. “I’m not sure how many are going to be there, but everyone’s coming to my place after the ceremony. We’ve some cakes and sandwiches laid on.”

“In that case, can I offer a fish-and-chip dinner for everyone…on the house?”

Betty thought Doris was going to faint.

“That…that’s unbelievable, and so generous! Are you sure, Fred?” the American managed to say.

Fred nodded. “It’s the least I can do for my best customer. You, and your friends,” he turned as wide a smile as he could onto her, “are unbelievable! I’ll never be able to thank you enough, so allow me to do this one thing for you. Agreed?”

Doris grabbed his hand and energetically pumped it up and down. “Are you kidding? Fish ’n’ chips, with a Guinness chaser! Never mind the wedding, that’s my idea of heaven!”