Waiting for the Violins by Justine Saracen Read Free Book Online

feet to keep warm.
    “Don’t be nervous, Toni. You’ll be fane ,” someone said. Fane? She turned to see Llewellyn smiling down at her. “Thanks for the encouragement, but I told you not to call me Toni.”
    “Sure thing. But look, I watched you doing the balloon jumps and yer doin’ great. You know it’s the time before the jump that’s difficult. Once you’re out in the air and your chute opens, it’s like a baby’s bottom. Come on, they’re calling us up now.”
    They clambered into the Armstrong Whitley along with four other candidates and took off. To her surprise, she was less nervous than she’d been on the ground. The noise of the plane engine seemed to lend a sense of drama and excitement, and made the jump seem heroic. She checked all the fittings on her jumpsuit, the buckles and straps on her parachute, the laces on her boots. She adjusted the Bungey training helmet and put on her goggles.
    “Over target area!” The jump-officer shouted, although, amidst the roar of the engine, Antonia could only read his lips. She stood up, second in line, behind Lew, and they shuffled together toward the bomb bay of the plane.
    When Lew reached the edge, just before jumping, he twisted around, puckered his lips and mimed a kiss. Then he stepped into the hole.
    Behind him, Antonia shivered in her jumpsuit as she reached the edge. Below stretched a terrifying, dark emptiness. The clouds had moved away, revealing the full moon upon which the RAF so much depended. It was all the light she was going to get.
    The green jump light flashed on, and before the jumpmaster touched her shoulder, she dropped.
    Terror. Wind blew her out of the vertical and caused her to tumble. She couldn’t orient herself because she had nothing to look at, nothing to grab on to.
    Whoomp! A violent jerk from the straps under her crotch told her the ripcord attached to the plane had opened her chute. It was suddenly quiet.
    How fast was she falling? She had no way of measuring, and the memory of all the damage done to her body at Dunkirk shot through her. At least there’d be no fire this time.
    She glanced downward and saw the glim lamps, four on each side, and though the wind was blowing her at a diagonal across the landing strip, she finally had a sense of approach.
    Suddenly the ground filled her entire view. She bent her knees and pressed her elbows to her sides. The moment her feet touched earth, she threw herself sideways into a roll. Ooof . A quick, sharp pain in her shoulder told her she’d been ambushed by a rock. A small one apparently, but she felt cheated, for the jump had otherwise been perfect.
    For the first time during the entire training period, she felt exhilarated.
    A figure approached in the moonlight, one of the other jumpers still dragging his chute. When he came within shouting distance, he called out. “Tidy jump, eh, Toni?”
    She scrambled to her feet and gathered up her own silk, rolling it into a bundle. “I told you not to call me Toni.”
    “Ah, shush yer noise, girl,” he called back amiably while he rolled up his chute. “You proved you could keep up with the lads, so come have a pint with me.”
    “Sorry, Lew. I’m still not interested.” With the entire silken mass rolled up and slung over her shoulder, she began the hike across the field toward the waiting troop carrier.
    When the team was present and accounted for, the instructor joined them and they made the drive back. “Good job, all of you. And when we get to the hangar, you’ll meet somebody who cares about your success as much as you do.”
    “Who’s that?” one of the men called out. “Me mother?”
    “No. You’ll find out when we get there. But make sure your chutes are tied up neatly and your gear is in proper order. I want you to look good.”
    “Ooo, must be someone important.”
    Twenty minutes later the group filed into the drop-off room and stowed their chutes for the repacking women. Antonia was one of the last, and when she