‘Probably,’ Bess laughed. ‘What’s with all the baking anyway, Nadia?’
‘I’ve always enjoyed it but I took a few classes at the start of autumn, thought I’d do something different just for fun, and then I got addicted. Now I’ve started baking even more, I can’t seem to stop myself.’ Blonde and curvy, she was every bit as gorgeous as the cakes she kept bringing to the airbase.
‘No arguments from me,’ Noah hollered as he passed by from the direction of the office. The airbase building had a welcoming reception at the front, the hangar at the rear, an office, kitchen, locker room and briefing room as well as a small room with a few beds should any of them need to get their head down for a while on shift.
‘Talk to your mum soon, Bess,’ Maya urged when it was just the two of them again.
And she knew she had to. For both their sakes. She texted her mum there and then to say she’d be over after shift.
But no sooner had the whoosh sound signalled the text leaving her device, the phone at the base rang out, its shrill signal alerting them to another job coming in.
It was time for The Skylarks to drop everything and take to the skies again.
The job turned out to be a major one where the outcome was very unsure indeed. A schoolgirl had climbed a tree in her backgarden to rescue her cat and she’d fallen, landing on her head. Her injuries were life threatening and Bess and Noah did as much as they could for her on the ground before transporting her by air to the trauma centre where neurologists and other doctors were on standby. If the young girl came through this, it would be a long road to recovery.
By the time Hilda landed back at base, it was well after the end of shift for the red team and Bess was shattered. The more difficult and traumatic calls where the outcomes might not be favourable were hard.
She called her mother so she could explain why she was running late. If she sent a text, her mum would assume she was putting the talk off again, but after she gave the gist of what had happened, her mum suggested they reschedule for lunch tomorrow instead.
‘What can I bring?’ Bess asked, keen not to dwell on the sadness and shock of her shift. ‘I’ll have to do a supermarket dash in the morning, I’m almost out of a few essentials.’
‘I don’t like to be a pain but could you grab me a few packets of cat food for Liquorice?’
‘Of course I can. I’ll see you tomorrow, around midday.’
No mention of Malcolm. Maybe her mum was as apprehensive about talking about him as her daughter was.
Bess headed home, the last job of the day still very much on her mind, all good thoughts going to the young girl and her family that their story would have a happy ending.
Nothing was ever guaranteed, though, and as she pushed her key into the lock of her front door and clocked the words on her key fob yet again, she was very much reminded of that.
5
It had only been a few days, but Gio thought he might well tear his hair out soon with this woman here. All day, every day.
There was only so much patience Gio had.
And already, it was wearing thin.
The night he’d spoken with his mother on the phone had brought with it the usual stress but when he’d fallen asleep on the sofa, he’d had no idea of what was about to come his way.
His mother. In real life. At his door.
‘Well, don’t I get a hug?’ his mother had said, opening her arms.
He rubbed a hand across his face as though he might be seeing things. ‘Mum, what are you doing here?’
She dropped her arms but he quickly stepped forwards to indulge her with a hug, defusing the situation before it blew up in his face. ‘You’d better come in.’
The sun wasn’t even up yet and he wished he wasn’t either. He felt all over the place – late shifts and night shifts often buggered up his sense of timing. And so did unexpected visits.
‘Mum, what are you doing here?’ He repeatedhis question the second he closed the door after she’d hauled her bag inside. His heart sank at the size of it; it looked big enough for most of her worldly possessions from what he remembered.
She unwound her green, knitted scarf, the one she’d knitted herself in one of her better periods when she had steered clear of the bottle – at least for as long as it had taken her to knit the thing anyway.
‘I know it’s a shock.’ She toyed with the ends of the scarf between her fingers until he offered to take it along with her coat. He put them both on the hooks in the hallway.
So much for the cleaning job. Which, come to think of it, she had either lied about or jacked in before she’d even started.
