“They told me while the investigation took place, everything was on hold. Including the pension.”
“How are you for money?” Rob asked. Georgina gave him a look that said it all.
“It’s hard enough for me, but it’s been terrible for Charlie. Can you imagine what he’s thinking? He adored his father. He was his hero. But now? I hate that he thinks Millie could have done anything wrong.” She dabbed her eyes with a hanky.
“He did nothing wrong, Georgina. But it’s… complicated.” He waited for her to recover herself. “Can I ask you some questions? Do you remember that Saturday when Millie went to Oxford to see Charlie and we went shopping?”
“I do. And I know he didn’t go. I suspected as much, but knew better than to ask. It’s funny, after he died I didn’t think so much about the conversations we had. I thought more about the ones we didn’t have. I barely knew anything about his work these last few years. It must be hard to hide so much. Damn Kilton and his vale of absolute secrecy.”
“So, you didn’t ask him anything?”
“No. I let it go, like so much. Charlie told me you asked him, though. I didn’t know what to say. Do you know where he went?”
“Not exactly, no. Was there anything odd about him, leading up to the crash?”
She thought for a bit and looked off in to the distance. “There was something off, I could sense it. In fact, I thought it was about you.”
“Me?”
She smiled. “He loved you, Rob. Loved having you around. You made him feel young. He was so pleased you’d picked him out as a friend, when you had all those glamorous flyers queuing up to rub shoulders with.
“But then, something changed. You drifted away, which was fine of course. Understandable. Ultimately, I think he understood it. He was good like that. A man without ego. But for a few weeks, it was hard.”
Rob tightened his hand around the thin plastic arm of the chair.
Georgina tilted her head. “Oh, darling, he still loved you and you were still friends, weren’t you?”
“I wasn’t a friend when he needed me.”
Georgina handed him a tissue.
“I have plenty of these!”
Rob took a moment to steady himself.
“Was there anything else, Georgina? Just something he may have mentioned in passing that sounded odd?”
Georgina put her hand to her chin and stroked it for a moment before shaking her head. “I can’t think of anything. I mean, he was wrestling with some maths problem at one point, but I can’t see that’s got anything to do with anything.”
“Maths? Tell me exactly what he said.”
“Well, I don’t remember much. He just said he had a maths problem. We laughed a bit about Charlie having all the maths brains in the family.”
Rob stood up and took a few steps around the area of grass that had been cut enough for a couple of chairs and a table. “But he didn’t ask Charlie? Unless Charlie was lying. Maybe he asked Charlie to lie?”
“I’m sure he would have told me by now, but let’s ask him. Charlie!”
He appeared at the back door.
Rob faced him. “Charlie, do you remember our conversation at your mother’s?”
“About me seeing Dad in Oxford?”
“Yes. I want to check that you’re not covering up for him. That he didn’t ask you not to say anything. I promise you I’m on his side. I’m not here for TFU or the police. I’m here to clear his name.”
Charlie shook his head. “I would tell you, Mr May, I promise. But I never saw him. God, I wish I had. But he didn’t visit me.”
“Or call you?”
“No. Nothing. I last saw Daddy at Easter.”
“Thank you, Charlie.”
“Will you clear his name?” Charlie asked, glancing across to his mother.
“I’m doing everything I can, I promise.”
Georgina stood up. “We’re so alone here, Rob. This means everything to us. Thank you.”
She showed him to the front door.
“God, I miss Mary. How is that gorgeous wife of yours?”
“She’s fine.”
“Well, send her my love from Siberia.”
Rob smiled. “We’ll see you on Friday. After that, you won’t be able to get rid of us.”
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.
31
THURSDAY 7TH JULY
The alarm unleashed its urgent clanging. Rob’s eyes flickered open.
His first thought was surprise. He’d slept.
He turned over and faced the space where his wife should be. He rested a hand on the undisturbed pillow, before rolling out of bed.
He put on his uniform and packed a civilian change of clothes in a holdall.
It was just after 7AM.
He walked downstairs, picked up the telephone receiver, and, with nervous fingers, dialled the switchboard at West Porton.
“Commanding officer, Test Flight Unit, please.”
A short pause.
“Kilton.”
“Sir, it’s Rob May. I’m afraid I’ve been rather unwell in the night and I’m not fit for work or flying today.”
“You can come in, though?”
“No. I’m unwell.”
“This is very inconvenient, May. You have two trips today. Important ones. I’m about to reassure the government we’ll sign off tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“Fine. I’ll take your place.”
Rob said goodbye but found himself speaking to a dead line. Kilton was gone.
TEN MINUTES LATER, Rob slipped out of the house and walked at a brisk pace into the village.
He didn’t look left or right, but just prayed his fellow TFU colleagues were too busy dressing or eating breakfast to glance out of the window.