‘I’m sure your egos would love to believe we talk about nothing else,’ Bobby said with a laugh. ‘Actually we had something more interesting to discuss.’
‘Can you tell me?’
‘I think I’m allowed. It’s Jolka and Piotr. They’re expecting another baby.’
‘That’s good news. When?’
‘Five months, the same as Marmaduke. I felt awful that I couldn’t share my news in exchange. I had to assuage the guilt with fruit cake.’ She gave him a kiss. ‘Don’t worry, though, I saved you a slice for after tea.’
‘I hope it won’t be long until we can start telling people. As soon as I’ve found a job, you can give Reggie your notice and start spreading the news.’
Bobby thought about the letter she had found in the bin. The DFC could make a big difference to his employment prospects, she was sure.
‘Charlie?’ she said hesitantly. ‘Can I ask you about something?’
Charlie was engaged in kissing her neck. ‘If you like.’
‘It’s just… I’m sure I’m worrying over nothing as usual, but earlier, in the salvage bin, I found, um, a letter.’ She took a deep breath. ‘From the Air Ministry.’
Charlie stopped kissing her and looked up, his expression wary. ‘What of it?’
‘I wondered why it was torn up, that’s all. You can’t have meant to do it.’
‘Can’t I? Why not?’
‘Well, because it’s the DFC.’
He turned his face away from her. Feeling awkward, Bobby removed herself from his knee.
‘You threw it away on purpose?’ she asked.
‘I told you when I came back from that last op. I’m not interested in some meaningless bloody gong.’
‘But whyever not, Charlie? I can’t think of anyone who deserves it more. Climbing out of the plane to put out the fire… that was real heroism. Everyone at Wykeness said so.’
Charlie gave a harsh laugh. ‘Everyone said so, did they? And yet I came so close to being classed LMF when I told them I wouldn’t fly again. Having my commission stripped from me, reduced to the ranks, disgraced. Wasn’t it you who told me there’s a fine line between cowardice and heroism?’
‘That doesn’t make you any less a hero.’ Bobby knelt in front of him and took his hands. ‘It makes you more of one, if anything, because you had to battle your nerves every step of the way to do what you knew was right. I bet there are a tiny fraction of men who would have done what you did that night.’
‘What I knew was right,’ Charlie repeated tonelessly. He extracted his hands from hers and took up his newspaper, then turned to a page he’d folded over and pointed out a story. ‘Look at this.’
Bobby skimmed it. It was only a couple of paragraphs: a report on the success of recent bombing raids over Germany.
There was no mention of specific ops or squadrons: just a lot of statistics about damage to enemy manpower and things. She was struggling to see what might have upset Charlie. It seemedvery dry and unemotional to her. There was a single mention of Mannheim, but no other details.
‘I’m not sure what you want me to see,’ she said. ‘Were friends of yours involved in the Mannheim campaign?’
‘It’s just so bloodyclinical,’ Charlie said, his face working feverishly. ‘How many “manpower hours” the Germans have lost. How many German civilians have been “dehoused”. You know what that means, right? It means we wiped the poor buggers out. Loss of manpower means loss of men. Dehoused means some residential area’s been reduced to rubble, and its people killed or made into refugees. I did that, Bobby. Me.’
‘Well yes, but it’s war,’ Bobby said helplessly. ‘I know it seems heartless, but if it’ll end this thing faster then it saves more lives in the long run, doesn’t it?’
‘I hope that helps the other boys sleep at night, because it doesn’t me.’ Charlie took the newspaper and held it in hands that trembled so violently, he could barely keep a grip. ‘Look here. It says that due to the amount of damage the new heavy bombers can inflict, a Lancaster has paid for itself even if it only makes one trip. No mention of the seven men who would have been killed on that one trip, not to mention those on the ground. At the beginning of this war, people in this country wouldn’t have stomached the idea of bombing civilians. Then the Blitz came, our men started dying in the skies and our people on the ground, and it hardened us. Made us vengeful. And if you show any sign of giving a damn what happens to those people, you’re scorned as weak or womanish. The RAF can stick their bloody gongs.’
Bobby took the newspaper away and seized the trembling hands. She kissed them softly, looking up into Charlie’s face until the black cloud dissipated. It was replaced by weariness as he sagged in his chair.
‘I do understand,’ Bobby said softly. ‘You’re right to care, and I love you for it. There’s nothing weak about compassion, Charlie.’
He summoned a shaky smile. ‘I’m sorry. I ought to have talked to you about it. I was angry, and I tore the thing up and tried to forget it so we could enjoy our afternoon. But I’ll have to let them know I’m refusing it, I suppose.’ He sighed. ‘Why am I like this, Bobby?’
