Tallyho

Published by: eXtasy Books

Author : Jon Bradbury

ISBN :978-1-4874-4221-7

Page :95

Word Count :25631

Publication Date :2024-09-13

Series : #

Heat Level :

Available Formats : Tallyho (epub) , Tallyho (mobi) , Tallyho (pdf) , Tallyho (prc)

Category : Historical Romance , Romantic Suspense and Mystery , Romance

Product Code: 978-1-4874-4221-7

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What do you do when you find yourself swimming upstream? Keep swimming.

It’s America, 1940. Hostilities have kicked off in Europe, but Congress has passed the Neutrality Act, making it illegal for any American citizen to get involved in any way. It’s in this atmosphere that Matthew Cooper, a civilian pilot for many years, decides to take up his friend, Debbie Douglas’ offer of assistance to get overseas.

My wife Annie and I were just sitting down to dinner when the phone rang. I’d been home for about an hour, having flown tourists in a helicopter from the airport to the docks. Now we were getting ready to sit down for dinner.

Annie frowned. “Who could that be?”

“Probably one of those stupid telemarketers,” I said.

She stepped over to the phone and lifted it. “Hello. Oh, hi, Mom.”

I smiled. I still remember what my mom had told Annie, nervous at meeting my parents for the very first time. “Call me Mom.”

But just a moment later, Annie handed me the phone. “She says she needs to speak with you.”

“Okay.” I took the phone from her. “Hi, Mom.”

There was a long silence on the line, punctuated only by a sniff.

“Mom?” I said, less sure of myself.

There was another sniff. “He’s gone, Matt. Your granddad, Matt, the first.”

I was left gobsmacked, blindsided, a bite of whatever it was I was about to eat, halfway to my mouth, forgotten. “What?”

“I know you two were close,” she said. “That’s where you got your love of flying and airplanes from.”

I chuckled sadly. I still had that model Spitfire. Granddad had taught me how to fly an airplane before I could even drive a car. Before I got my learner’s permit, I already had my pilot’s license. At school, I had a special kind of confidence. When I graduated high school, I went to learn how to fly private jets, after which I got a job ferrying celebrities here and there. Just for the fun of it, I’d learned how to fly helicopters so I could start ferrying tourists from the airport. I have a comfortable lifestyle and travel often.

I asked her, “Uhm...did they say how he died?”

Annie gasped and covered her mouth. I dropped my fork, took her hand in my own free hand, and squeezed it.

Meanwhile, mom said, “The nursing home said he had a heart attack and died in his sleep. At least he went peacefully. Frankly, I’m surprised he’s lasted this long. The man was in his nineties.”

I heard another sniff. Trying to comfort her, I said, “Well, now he’s with Grandma.”

Grandma, Catherine Cooper, had passed away the year before. I’d seen pictures of her when she was young, both of when she’d been working for Pan Am and during her war service with the US Eighth Air Force in England doing what she had already been doing, just with a different uniform on. She was, simply put, beautiful, as women from that period tended to be.

I personally would’ve given anything for one more dear from her.

Then Mom continued, sounding stronger and more in control of herself. “Sometime next week, the family is going to get together for the reading of the will. Try to be there. I know he left you something. I just don’t know what.”

“Uhm, yeah. I’ll be there.” I spoke in a dull, mechanical voice.

“He’s living forever in the clouds,” Mom said. “Just where he wanted to be.”

That finally brought a smile to my face. “Yeah,” I said. “You guys need anything? Anything I can get for you, anything I can bring you?”

“No, son. We’ll be fine. At least I think we will be. If I need anything, you’ll be the next to know.”

“Okay, Mom.”

“Bye, son.”

“Bye, Mom. Love you, guys.”

“Love you, too, son. Bye-bye.”

“Bye, Mom.” And we hung up.

Just as promised, there was a reading of the will a few days later. Granddad Matt had left me a monetary gift, which he’d given to everyone in the family. But he’d gifted me something that he hadn’t given anyone else in the family, something even my sister Emily wasn’t jealous of, something unexpected—a letter with mysterious instructions.

I said to Granddad’s estate attorney, “What’s this?”

“Sorry, that’s what he specified in his will.”

“Yeah, I see that,” I said. I turned to Annie and said, “Feel like a trip overseas?”

“I’d love to.”

“Great,” I said, reading the additional instructions. “It says here we have forty-eight hours to pack for our flight.”

“Excellent,” she said. “I’ve always wanted to see London!”

Two days later, Annie and I were arriving at LaGuardia. Apparently, instructions had been sent before us, and as our taxi pulled up to the terminal, there was a lady waiting for us, dressed in a very prim and proper suit, her auburn hair only a shade or two lighter than Annie’s, was pinned up in an equally proper bun.

“Mister Cooper?” she asked, extending her hand.

“Yes,” I said, taking her hand.

“Jane Thomas. I represent an organization that seeks to preserve any artifacts relating to the Second World War and any related events, yes?”

I said, “Uhm, I gotta tell you now. Don’t be surprised if I have no idea what you’re talking about. Granddad never talked about what he did in the war.”

She gave a single nod in understanding. “Quite so. Not many of them do. So I will do my best to, how do you Americans say, cushion the blow. But I must tell you now, in return, that you are in for quite a few surprises.”

“Like what?” I asked, feeling a frown on my face.

“Well, I don’t know if you’re familiar with the Eagle Squadrons?”

I said, “That’s a group of American pilots that flew for the Royal Air Force before the United States entered the war.”

“That’s correct,” she said. “Well, your grandfather was one of them.”

I reeled. It was like an emotional gut punch. I literally had to stop and sit down on a nearby bench. All these years and granddad never said a thing—to me or to anyone in the family.

“Are you all right?” Jane asked, sounding concerned for the first time.