The Final Flight by James Blatch (books to read in your 30s .TXT) 📗

Easter. It was odd. I double-checked with him and he looked at me like I was mad, questioning when he last saw his father. But Millie had been very clear. He went to Oxford to see Charlie. He missed a day out with us for it.”

“And that was unusual?”

“It was. I think Georgina was taken by surprise that he suddenly went off to visit their son. Then Charlie tells me he never even saw him.”

“This could be it, Rob. It sounds like a cover story. So, where did he actually go?”

“I don’t know.”

Susie patted him on the knee. “See, I told you this works. Let’s do some more.”

Rob felt exhausted. “I’m worn out.”

“We don’t have time to schedule a session for next week.”

“Fine.” He lay back down and closed his eyes, allowing his mind to wander a second time. But the adrenaline rush from his first discovery made everything cloudy.

He sat up. “It’s no good. My mind’s too busy now.”

“OK, well, let’s think this through. Millie fibs to his wife and disappears for a day using a cover story about visiting Charlie. Is this the day he delivered the tapes? When was it?”

“Quite a while ago. I remember it being not long after the first incident. I think that makes it far too early to have delivered the tapes. He wouldn’t have had time to record sixty of them.”

“It must be connected, though. We need to know where he went. You have literally no idea?”

Rob cast his mind back. He couldn’t remember much about the morning. He thought maybe Georgina had told them Millie wasn’t coming…

But then there was the evening…

“We went to a cocktail party that night. Millie drove. He acted odd.”

“What do you mean exactly?”

Rob shook his head when he remembered. “The guards stopped us. He was nervous. Really nervous.” His eyes widened. “Christ. He must have had the tapes in the car.”

“Why on earth would he have the tapes, going into West Porton for a cocktail party? Wasn’t he trying to get them out of there?”

“Don’t know.”

Rob thought through the evening. The crowded room, the heat. The mayor’s wife.

“He went off at one point. Said he left his watch in TFU.”

“Right, so he was returning something. Tapes, maybe. This is good, Rob.”

“But that’s it. I didn’t question him.”

“Did he ever talk to you about it? Did he ask for your help?”

Rob studied the grass. “Yes, but I closed down the conversation pretty quickly.”

“Was there anyone else at TFU he would confide in?”

Rob shook his head. “No. Everyone liked Millie, but I think I was the closest. Funnily enough, Kilton was probably the next nearest. They served together in the war. At Tangmere, I think.”

Susie offered Rob another cigarette and held out a lighter. He leaned forward and spoke with the cigarette in his mouth.

“He served everywhere, actually. All the old boys knew him. Even the graveyard—”

Rob stopped lighting his cigarette and looked up.

“What is it?” Susie asked.

“There’s a man, an ancient fossil from the Maintenance Unit. We call it the Graveyard. JR. Nice bloke. Friendly, just Millie’s sort. He said something odd to me. Something about Millie, but I can’t for the life of me remember what.”

“When, Rob? When did he say something?”

“The night of the crash in the bar. I was drunk. And upset. I remember being confused. Damn it, what did he say?”

Susie let him rack his brains in silence for a minute before speaking again.

“Well, why don’t you ask him?”

“Is that safe? I’ve avoided saying anything to anyone at TFU.”

“He’s not at TFU, is he? And anyway, all you’re doing is asking what it was he said to you.”

Rob looked at his watch. “He lives in the mess. I could even catch him tonight.”

“Then let’s fly, flight lieutenant.”

The mess bar was busy for a Monday night.

Rob surveyed the room.

At the bar; a white-coated steward regarded him expectantly.

“Is Squadron Leader Richardson in?”

Without answering, the steward pointed to the far wall where JR sat with two others Rob recognised from his few dealings with the Graveyard.

As he approached, the three men stood up, as if he was a senior officer or a woman.

“Hello, Rob.” JR reached out his hand, followed by the two other pilots who gave him a warm greeting.

“JR. Do you mind if I borrow you for a moment?”

JR gave the others a look, and they headed off to the bar.

“When we spoke on the night of the crash, you said something to me about Millie. Do you remember?”

Although JR’s eyes were sunken well into his head, with bags that looked like rolled up carpets, he still had a twinkle. Just like Millie.

“I wondered when you would come to me.”

Rob stared at him for a moment. “You’re the accomplice?”

“Ha! I’m not sure I’m that. But, just to be clear, this isn’t an official visit on behalf of Wing Commander Kilton, is it?”

Rob shook his head. “No, it absolutely is not.”

“Good. You know what this place is like. What it’s become since your lot moved in, anyway. Careless talk costs lives, and all that.”

“Yes, sorry about that.”

“Not your fault. Anyway, I know you and Millie were close.”

“We were.”

“And yet, it appears he kept something from you?”

“I think so, probably for my own good. But now I need to know.”

JR looked more serious. “Is it true Millie’s name is being dragged through the mud by that oaf Kilton?”

“It’s nonsense, of course, what they’re saying about him.”

“We all know that.” JR picked up his drink and looked around the bar. “But this is not a place to raise doubts about the truth unless you’re well-armed.”

“So, you were helping him?”

JR waggled his head. “Sort of. Just one trip. He’d officially asked to go to Wyton for some meeting, but he asked us to take him to Abingdon instead. He obviously didn’t want the visit on any official log.”

“Abingdon? When?”

JR screwed up his face, which became a sea of wrinkles. “Early last week. Monday, I think.”

“What did he do there? Who did he meet?”

“No idea, I’m afraid.