When they drove through the gates into the station, with Philip sitting circumspectly in the back seat, she could feel him taking on the mantle of Commanding Officer once more. He seemed to be two people; the serious, dedicated Group Captain who carried the awesome responsibility for the station with strength and yet compassion. And then there was the man she knew when they were alone; the man who loved her and needed her to love him.

Two days later, he called her into his office. ‘Come in – close the door.’

She stood before his desk. His face was tired, the lines of weariness etched deeply. ‘I’ve done all I can to find out about Danny.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘But there’s nothing. His plane hasn’t been found and there’s no report of him being a prisoner.’

‘Is there anything about any other member of the same crew? Something that might give a clue as to what happened to their plane?’

Philip shook his head. ‘Nothing. It’s as if they’ve disappeared completely. Still, at least there’s hope. Usually when this happens, it’s that their aircraft has crashed in enemy territory and they’re hiding out with resistance workers. I don’t want you to build up false hopes, though, and I’d advise you not to say anything to his family. Living amongst it, I know you understand better.’

Kate nodded. ‘Yes, you’re right. And I hope you’re right about Danny too.’

Philip looked at her solemnly. ‘So do I, Kate. So do I.’

They spent every possible moment they could together, but it became more difficult as Philip’s responsibilities increased. Now he had three squadrons under his overall command on a station purpose-built for two. Although it was only a temporary measure that one of the East Markham squadrons be housed at Suddaby, nevertheless it threw a strain on the smaller station. Frequently, Philip slept in the little room behind his office, rather than go to his official quarters. He was so committed, Kate thought. He was there at every takeoff and waiting through the long night until every aircraft was back, or at least until those who had not returned were posted ‘missing’. And then he would hunch his shoulders into his coat and return alone to his office to write those awful letters to the families of the missing crews.

‘We have a free afternoon off, Kate,’ he whispered from the back seat of the car as they drove out of the gate one morning for a routine visit to Group HQ. ‘A whole four hours with nothing to do. Where shall we go?’

‘I don’t know. Where do you want to go?’

‘How about you take me to your home? I’d love to see where you live.’

Kate gasped. ‘Home! But – but do you think we should?’