Had he?
‘Robbie,’ she said, frantic. ‘Are you there?’
Silence.
‘Robbie … ’
Then,
‘Iris,’ he said, and she could tell he was smiling. ‘That’s the most incredible news.’
‘The boys only gave up when our last engine did,’ says Tim, his voice raw. ‘We were gliding, still close to land. It was all so silent, except for the wash of the waves. On a clearer night, we’d have been able to see the coast.’ He pauses, and I can tell he’s picturing it: the swirling white air beyond the cockpit; his friends,brothers, looking at one another, accepting their time had come. ‘They took the chutes,’ he says, ‘even though they knew they’d do no good. I couldn’t manage to go with them. They were … wretched … about leaving me.’ His lips tremor. ‘Rob tried to take me anyway. He pulled me all the way to the forward hatch. But I told him to leave me, that I’d rather die quickly, than drown slowly. He said that he couldn’t leave me to die alone, but I made him, told him he had to fight, for Iris. For their baby.’ He inhales, breath scratching. ‘He should never have been in that plane. I forced him into bombing. I thought we’d be safe together. But I killed him.’ He lets go a racking sob. ‘I killed them all.’
Helplessly, I stare at him.
I want to find the words to comfort him.
But I can’t.
It’s all too unbearable.
Too hopeless.
‘I don’t know what happened,’ Tim says. ‘I’ve never been able to make sense of it, but as soon as Rob went, the bombs dislodged, falling too, and the plane must have leapt up, gained enough height to clear the coast, because the next thing I knew I was crashing into land.’ Wheezing, he fights another sob. ‘I don’t remember being found. But when I came around in hospital, it felt like a punishment. I couldn’t bring myself to talk about any of it, and everyone assumed I’d forgotten. It was too easy to let them.’ With a trembling fist, he wipes his face. ‘Fifty-five-thousand men were killed flying for Bomber Command,and six of them were my very best friends.’ His face folds. ‘I’ve been drowning slowly ever since.’
‘Oh, Tim,’ I say, still with no idea how to go on.
And he hasn’t finished anyway.
‘Iris and Ellie never told anyone we hadn’t made it to Berlin. They didn’t want me to have to fly my last mission, once I was better.’ He wipes his cheeks again. ‘I’ve known for a long time I need to set this record straight. Even before Imogen wrote her book. And I never imagined she’d think of making it Iris’s fault.’ He reaches for my hand, gripping it with surprising strength. ‘I need you to believe that.’
‘Surely you could have asked her to change it … ’
‘I never read her damnable ending. The book was already in print by the time Ellie got a hold of it and told me what had been done. I didn’t even talk with Imogen about the ending. I didn’t want to remember, and I was terrified of Imogen realising that I did.’ His whole face droops. ‘I feel sometimes that I’ve spent my entire life afraid.’
‘You weren’t afraid last time I saw you. You said then that you were already over England when Robbie radioed Iris.’
‘Did I?’
‘Yes. Felix thought you wanted it out.’
‘I do.’ He nods. ‘I’m glad I’ve done it.’
We fall into silence.
Outside, the weak winter sun shines.
Sightlessly, I look at it, torturing myself with the thought of Robbie, and all of them, disappearing into the black November sea, with their own bombs plummeting around them: I see them alone and cold, drowning, slowly, their lanterns blinking off, then illuminating again, returning them to warmth and safety; their mother’s arms, and fresh years of life.
It’s a wonderfully comforting idea, Ellen said.
I want to find comfort in it.
But I’m struggling to feel anything but the pain Tim feels.
The fear.
‘Would you stop it all from ever happening if you could?’ I ask him.
