He shook his head. “Free as a bird.” He stuck out his arm in invitation. “Dinner?”
Her arm fit snugly in his. “That sounds good.”
“With an ocean view?”
“Delightful.”
“This way, then,” he said and they headed down the gravel roadway, away from the parked planes. “I hope you like fish. This fellow makes delicious fried fish. He calls his recipes different names, but it’s all the same thing, really. It’s a twenty-minute walk or so. You all right with that?”
Dash couldn’t remember the last time she’d been on a date. She didn’t count the dances at CanCar, because those had only been fun frolics to let off steam. There was something about this man, with his enticing British accent and confident smile. Or maybe it was the timing. Maybe she was still higher than a kite after the Spitfire, and Master Corporal Pete Clark was in the right place at the right time.
“That was my first Spitfire,” she told him, grinning.
“Ah yes? And what is your opinion?”
“She lives up to her reputation and then some.”
“Have you flown a lot?”
For some reason, that question was the key. As they walked, she told him about learning to fly with Uncle Bob. Pete was a good listener, asking questions so he could see the whole picture. He encouraged her to keep talking, so she did, telling him about Dot and Gus and how inseparable the three of them had been. She tried to focus on her life prewar, but the conversation inevitably wound around to her father and everything that had happened with Dot.
“There must have been a reason,” he said. “She would never have chosen to do something like that, from what you’ve told me about her.”
“That’s what people keep telling me.”
“You have to trust her. You know her better than anyone.”
“And yet apparently I don’t,” she snapped, annoyed that Dot had interfered in her lovely evening. “Let’s talk about something else.”
He nodded thoughtfully, then pointed ahead. “Up there’s the restaurant I was telling you about. That’s Southbourne Beach.”
She’d been so deeply immersed in their conversation she’d missed her surroundings, and now the sight nearly stopped her short. An explosion of melting sunshine spread over the calmest of seas, a rippling mirror of reds, oranges, and purples. At its base stretched a long beach, empty but for a small building with crumbling walls and tables outside. She glanced around, looking for other people, but she could see no one else. This spectacle was for the two of them alone.
She saw the corners of his mouth draw up. “Glorious, isn’t it?”
All she could do was smile. When they reached the beach, she took off her boots so she could feel the sand between her toes.
“Too cold for me,” he said. “I’ve heard Canadians are a different breed.”
“We’re pretty tough,” she agreed.
“Well, you’re pretty, anyway.” He raised his voice. “Tony! Tony, are you open? I’ve brought a date for supper.”
“I’ve never seen a restaurant that looks like this.”
“Technically, it’s his house, but he likes to cook, so he made it his restaurant.”
An old man, bald and bent, shuffled out to greet them. “Pete, my lad. First customer I’ve seen in weeks, you is.” He turned to Dash. “And look at you!”
“Tony,” Pete chuckled.
“Pete never brings nobody here, miss, so this ’ere’s an occasion. I’ll cook you something special, mate.”
Pete gave Dash a wink. “Your fish is always special, Tony.”
“Find yourselves a table,” Tony said, gesturing toward two that were still intact, then he disappeared into the house.
Instead of sitting across the table from her, Pete chose the seat beside her.
