Heartwarming and emotional story of one girl's courage in WW2 by Fenella Miller (best ereader for students .TXT) 📕

He peered over the greenery and saw what had happened. The girl had been catapulted over the hedge and must be unconscious on the other side. ‘Miss Simpson, Ellie, are you hurt?’ There was no answer and he leaned into the vicious thorns in an attempt to see if she was spreadeagled close to the edge of the field where he couldn’t see her.

He tried yelling again. ‘Ellie, for God’s sake answer me?’

‘I’m perfectly fine, no thanks to you.’

She spoke from right behind him and shock made him grab two handfuls of hawthorn bush. The thorns embedded themselves in his fingers and palms. His foul language made her laugh.

He stepped away from the bushes to examine his lacerated hands. ‘For Christ’s sake, what is it with you? You should be called Cassandra, not Ellen.’

Her fists clenched. He braced himself, not wishing to end up in the thorns for a second time.

‘Mr Reynolds, you are a blithering idiot. First you attempt to ditch our new aircraft and now you’ve ruined my bike. I can only imagine that Joe calls you his favourite nephew because he doesn’t have any others.’

He was about to apologise but she held up her hand. ‘Don’t just stand there like a useless article – get my bike out of the hedge. I’m going to be late for work.’

He ignored her and returned to his car. He started the engine and revved it loudly expecting her to leap sideways in order to get out of his way. She did the opposite and positioned herself firmly in the middle of the lane. The only way he was going to move forward was by driving over her.

They glared at each other through the windscreen. This was ridiculous. He was behaving like a kid – one of them needed to act like an adult. He would get the bloody bike out of the bloody hedge for her but if she didn’t watch out she would end up the same way as her bike.

She stood by in silence as he struggled to remove the damn thing. He gave it another heave and this time was successful. He staggered back with the bike in his hands and lost his balance, ending up in the mud at her feet with it on top of him.

Again, she surprised him. Instead of enjoying his humiliation she removed the bike. ‘Let me help you up, Mr Reynolds.’ Then her expression changed to one of concern. ‘There’s blood all over your hands. You should have worn gloves…’

He sat up and examined them. ‘Serves me right. Only a few scratches, nothing to worry about. Will you call me Jack?’

Her smile turned her face from ordinary to rather attractive. ‘Okay. My bike’s had it. Do you think it will squeeze into the back of your car? Sid will be able to fix it if we can get it to him.’

‘Can you drive?’ This seemed a stupid question but it was possible she could fly planes but not drive a car.

‘I can – why do you ask?’

‘You need to get to work and your bike is too big to fit in the back. Take the car and I’ll carry the bike to the airfield.’

She nodded. ‘Thanks, makes sense as you’re the one who caused the damage. I’ll see you later.’

He was about to explain how to start the vehicle but she was already inside and obviously knew what she was doing. She drove away without a second glance, leaving him to stagger the remaining distance carrying her broken bicycle.

It took him half an hour to complete the journey and if he’d expected to be greeted with thanks and enthusiasm he would have been disappointed. The mechanic, who was doing something complicated to a bit of an engine, gestured towards the wall.

‘Stick it over there, mate, I’ll get to it later. Joe wants you to fix the compass on the new kite. You’ll find the tools you’ll need over there.’

‘I need the rest room first. Also, do you have any overalls I can borrow?’

The man grunted and jerked his head in the direction of a door at the far side of the hanger. Either the bloke was a grumpy bastard or he was taking Ellie’s side. Once he’d cleaned up and pulled on a disgustingly dirty pair of overalls he was ready to fix the compass.

He supposed that Uncle Joe had told the old guy his nephew was a competent ground engineer. When you came to think about it his uncle being involved in a toffs’ activity like flying was a bit strange. The money to start it up had come from wheeling and dealing in the East End. Probably best not to enquire too closely exactly how this had been obtained.

It took him a while to unstick the needle on the compass and put it back in place. While he was busy another car rolled up. The Swallow took off a short while later and was still out when he’d finished. He double-checked everything was working properly and then gathered up his tools and scrambled out of the cockpit.

His uncle banged on the window of the office and beckoned him in. He didn’t look very happy.

Four

Ellie’s morning improved once she’d arrived at the airfield. Both Joe and Sid were sympathetic and agreed that Jack was a nitwit. She got on with the paperwork she had to fill in before her students could do their first solo flight and forgot all about him.

Giles Humphry performed perfectly and she was certain he would have no difficulty on his solo excursion later that day. He landed smoothly and taxied the aircraft off the runway.

‘That was really good, Giles. You’ll be fine this afternoon.’

The young man nodded happily. ‘I want to get as many hours as I can under my belt before things go pear-shaped. I’m going to join the RAF when it does.’

‘I don’t know why you’re spending