CHAPTER TWO

Hawk took another draw on his cigarette. It soothed his nerves to smoke. He’d come to it later than most. Before North Africa, he’d despised it for its smell and taste, but when nothing else would stop the shakes after a harrowing mission, smoking could. He’d smoked ever since.

Now he stood looking at the walled garden at Grange End and contemplated life. If the garden seemed to change subtly between each breath of smoke, he didn’t really notice. After all, how could evening turn to morning, morning to night, winter to spring, spring to autumn all in the time it took to smoke one cigarette? He didn’t even question being at Grange End even though he hadn’t been back to the wonderful old farmhouse since 1940, some four years ago.

He felt the prickles on the back of his neck and fought the urge to stiffen. He knew that warning sign. Someone was watching him. In the air, it meant there was an enemy pilot on his tail that he couldn’t see yet, probably above him. Here and now, it meant something different.

He brought his body around slowly, scanning his surroundings more stealthily. He saw nothing in the shadowed garden that was blooming with late summer foliage. How could that be? It was barely the end of spring, but from the look of the garden it appeared much later in the year. And the air was warm and heavy, like in North Africa. It was cold the last time he thought about it; so much so, that he’d considered getting his great coat if he planned to stay outside much longer.

His head swivelled around and then up. The watcher was always up. He’d seen people watching him from the house before. There had been a stocky young farmer who must have been one of Alf’s sons. Then Mildred had caught a glimpse of him and looked downright shocked. Before he had a chance to consider why she would be surprised to see him when he’d been invited here often enough, he’d let the thought go. Her face had faded from memory.

There had been more faces at the windows above… now that he thought about it. Alf, looking much older than he remembered, a young boy with bright red hair and a cheeky grin, a woman in her thirties who was dressed most peculiarly and then a younger woman… the sister of the one he’d seen before? She was a pretty girl in her early twenties, with brown hair and bright red cheeks. So many people watching him from the house – were they all visitors? He didn’t remember it being a party he was invited to. He’d thought he was the only one here besides the family.

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Genre - Historical  Romance

Rating – PG

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