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

scenario. And you’re right. You’re alone now. Millie’s gone. It’s down to you.” She looked up at the sky and sighed. “We all have to make choices in life, Rob. As a matter of fact, I’m in a similar position.”

He gave her a quizzical look.

“I wasn’t going to tell you this, but the Service doesn’t want us to go ahead with the flight. In fact, I’ve been recalled.”

“So we can’t go, anyway?”

“I didn’t say that. I was never going on the flight. So that’s still a matter for you.”

“But you wouldn’t be there to help me.”

“I didn’t say that, either. But I’m not staying around if you’re half-hearted about it.”

She let the statement hang in the air for a minute.

The ducks appeared to have lost hope on being fed and paddled off downstream.

“It’s easy for me to walk away,” said Susie. She tapped his shoulders. “But there’s a lot of weight on there. I’m not sure there’s any other way of shifting it.”

She looked at her watch. “Look, do one more thing for me, before you make your final decision.”

She pulled out her notepad and flicked through the pages of shorthand, before settling on a couple of scribbled lines. Tearing off a fresh sheet, she used a ballpoint pen to translate it.

73 Sunrise Avenue

Totton

“What will I find here?” Rob asked.

“A reminder why we’re doing this.”

The A36 was quiet. Rob pushed down on the accelerator and opened up the Healey, braking heavily as he came to a series of bends on the outskirts of Totton.

It took him several minutes to find Sunrise Avenue.

He crawled along the road, peering out of the passenger window at the odd numbers. 31, 33…

He gently sped up. 57, 59…

He glanced forward and stared at Millie’s car.

Climbing out, he let his hands brush across the distinctive fins on the burgundy Rover.

He recalled the occasions he’d been in the passenger seat. The thing rolled around corners like a boat. Not great with a belly full of beer.

A door opened to his left. Georgina stood in the entrance of a small bungalow with an overgrown front garden. She wore a red pattern dress. Even among the shabbiness of her new home, she looked wonderful.

Tears welled in his eyes as he made his way up the path, stepping over long discarded children’s toys.

“Hello, stranger,” she said. They embraced.

She pulled back. “It’s lovely to see you, dear Robert. But as I’m on the naughty list, I’m guessing this isn’t a sympathy visit.”

“Can we have a chat?”

She led him through to the garden. The interior of the house was in dire need of repairs. Peeling wallpaper and wonky radiators. He glanced into the kitchen as they passed and saw a small, two-ring cooker.

Charlie sat at the kitchen table nursing a mug of something.

The teenager sprang to his feet and beamed.

“Hello, Mr May.”

“Please call me Rob. How are you?”

“Not great, to be frank with you.”

“And that’s OK, Charlie. It’s OK not to be OK.”

Charlie’s eyes were warm as he looked at Rob. “Thank you.”

“Look, when this is all over, why don’t you and I spend some time together? I can tell you a bit about your father at work. Maybe a few stories he’d hope you didn’t hear.”

Charlie smiled. “I’d love that so much. Thank you.”

Rob followed Georgina out into the garden where he was offered a cheap plastic chair. Georgina sat on a wooden stool.

The fence at the back of the garden leaned forward, having been attacked by unkempt undergrowth on the far side.

“It’s not ours,” Georgina said. “It’s my brother-in-law’s. He rented it out, but the last family left it in rather a state. I think he’s hoping Charlie and I will help do it up in return for a little rent-free stay.”

“They just threw you out of the married quarter?”

“They said it was a crime scene. Can you believe that?”

Rob shook his head.

“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