‘Bien sûr,’ replied Fitz.
‘I might have guessed,’ said Bob. ‘See you over there.’
Five minutes later, Fitz walked into the mess room, casting her gaze around, she couldn’t deny her disappointment that Sam wasn’t there. She had so been hoping to see him. She did,however, notice the two gentlemen in civilian clothes sitting on one side of the room.
‘Bonjour,’ she greeted them. ‘How are you both?’ The two Frenchmen looked surprised but replied in French that they were indeed well. ‘And you’re looking forward to your trip overseas?’ queried Fitz.
The two men exchanged a look and the older of the two replied. ‘We really can’t comment.’
‘Oh, of course not. Silly of me. I take it you’ve come across from Tangmere Cottage?’ asked Fitz amiably.
‘That we can confirm,’ replied the man. ‘I must compliment you on your French. I can barely detect an accent. You’re not French though, are you?’
Fitz smiled. ‘Thank you. I’m afraid I have a succession of French governesses to thank for my language skills.’
The man looked impressed, but before he could say anything else, a deep American voice, one that Fitz had replayed over in her mind the past few months, broke through the conversation.
‘Why am I not surprised you speak fluent French, Miss Fitz-Herbert?’
Fitz spun around. She wanted to fling herself into Sam’s arms but even she wasn’t that brazen. ‘Oh, Mr Carter,’ she said. ‘Not just French but German, too. There is no end to my talents.’
This caused a snigger from one of the English pilots who was standing nearby. Fitz winked at him and looked back at Sam.
He shook his head. ‘I don’t doubt that for one moment.’
They grinned at each other. ‘Hello, Sam,’ said Fitz. ‘I wasn’t sure I was going to see you today.’
‘Hi there,’ replied Sam. ‘I heard you were in town so thought I’d drop by.’
‘I’m glad you did. You owe me a pub lunch I seem to remember.’
‘And you owe me a handkerchief.’
Fitz produced Sam’s handkerchief from her pocket not unlike a magician. ‘Hey presto!’
‘I’m impressed.’ Sam took the cotton square from her.
‘I do like to impress you,’ said Fitz. ‘Now, I’ve fulfilled my side of the deal, I do hope you’re not going to renege on yours?’
Sam raised his eyebrows in mock indignation. ‘Never let it be said I don’t keep my promises.’
‘Oh, God, you two need to get yourselves down the pub.’ It was Bob who had come into the mess room unnoticed by Fitz. ‘All this pussyfooting around. Go on. Off you go.’
Fitz wished the two Frenchmen well and then left the mess with Sam. He offered her his arm and she placed her hand in the crook of his elbow.
They walked through the village to the one and only pub which was more of a small hotel, simply named The Tangmere Hotel and Bar.
‘It’s not much to write home about,’ said Sam apologetically. ‘I figured taking you into Chichester when you’re supposed to be on duty, it wouldn’t go down too well with the top brass.’
‘No, I don’t suppose it would,’ agreed Fitz. ‘However tempting it might be. I confess I don’t always abide by the rules, but nevertheless I don’t want to be booted out of the ATA.’
The bar area was quiet for the time of day and Sam showed Fitz to a table in the window, before ordering them a drink each. Fitz stuck to orange juice. She knew she’d be hung out to dry if they thought she was boozing before getting into a plane.
‘So, how have you been?’ asked Sam.
Fitz knew he was thinking of Betty and the accident. ‘I’ve been all right,’ she replied. ‘We try not to dwell on what happened but remember Betty for, well, the things we love doing ourselves. You know, flying.’
It was hard for Fitz to articulate how she felt about Betty when it was so very different to how she felt about her own mother’s death.
