Blackbirds Read Online Free PDF Page B

to you.”
    â€œSharon wouldn’t miss it!” Linda turned to her friend. “And neither would I!”
    Honeysuckle said, “Linda, would you help me bring out dessert?” She stood up.
    Linda smiled. “Of course, Mother.”
    Sharon gathered plates and followed them into the kitchen.
    Honeysuckle closed the door behind Sharon and said to her daughter, “What is wrong with you?”
    Linda said, “You can all live in your fantasy worlds, where we never deal with reality, never mention Michael’s name, and never say how Marmaduke blamed his mother for the old bastard’s death, but some of us have to live in the real world! There is a war on, and Marmaduke is moving in with his mother to save his skin and lay claim to the estate!”
    Sharon looked at Honeysuckle.
    â€œThat’s true.” Honeysuckle faced Sharon. “Your uncle, unfortunately, is much like his father.”
    The phone rang.
    Linda picked it up, listened, then hung up. “Sharon, we’ve been called back.”
    Sharon heard relief in her friend’s voice.
    Within thirty minutes, Sharon and Linda were in the back seat of Cornelia’s Rolls-Royce, her chauffeur at the wheel. Sharon looked out the window at stone walls, gardens, and thatched roofs. This is my first summer in England and my second ride in a Rolls-Royce. It felt remarkably similar to a Buick she’d had a ride in once.
    Linda looked out the other side.
    After half an hour, Sharon said, “Did they say why we’re being called back?”
    Linda shook her head. “Mother wouldn’t say. It was all very cryptic.” She made eye contact with Sharon and glanced at the driver. The message was clear: anything said would be reported back.
    Sharon looked ahead and saw the eyes of the driver studying her. She thought for a moment, trying to remember the driver’s face, and found she could not.
    Sharon passed the rest of the trip in silence, memorizing the route, noting that the road signs had all been taken down in order to make navigation difficult for an invading army.
    As they approached the airport, more military vehicles and men in uniform were visible. One group marched in the opposite direction with broomsticks instead of rifles on their shoulders.
    Sharon saw a blend of anger, determination, and fear on their faces.

CHAPTER 4
    [ JULY 1940 ]

    â€œWhat’s the matter with you?” Linda sat behind Sharon in the Anson, their ride to the first delivery of the day.
    Roger was up front, concentrating on his instruments. It appeared his frequent belching was an attempt at holding down a breakfast of greasy sausages he called bangers.
    Sharon looked out her window for a glimpse of the ground. There was the hint of green treetops disappearing into a world of grey cloud. “I was hoping to fly today.”
    â€œToday, tomorrow, next week, don’t worry — you’ll get back to Biggin Hill. I just hope. . .” Linda put her hand over her mouth.
    â€œWhat? Spit it out!” Sharon glared at her friend. The Anson hit a patch of rough air. She grabbed the back of the seat in front of her. The wings flexed. The airframe groaned.
    Linda looked around for a paper bag. “I hope your father isn’t a disappointment.” Her eyes rolled and she swallowed hard.
    â€œHere.” Sharon pulled a paper bag from her coverall pocket.
    Linda grabbed the bag and held it over her mouth and nose. “Don’t you ever get airsick?”
    Sharon shook her head. She looked out the window. A railway line ran about five hundred feet below the aircraft. “It’s usually tension that does it to me. I think we’re getting close.”
    They felt and heard Roger throttle back.
    Sharon looked ahead, but couldn’t see much out of the cockpit windows because of Roger’s hulking frame, so she looked out through the side. I hope he wasn’t drunk last night . And I hope he isn’t drunk