Two Blackbirds by Garry Ryan Page B

hunted by something he could never escape from. That’s the way I was after the crash and fire. I would see that faraway, haunted expression in the mirror after every nightmare. Now I see it in your eyes.” Linda hugged Sharon around the shoulders.
    Sharon pointed to the front of the cottage. A black Humber saloon car was parked at the door. To her, it resembled a hearse. She felt her pulse beginning to pound. What’s happened?
    A man stepped out of the back door. He had wild grey hair, wore a jacket and tie, and pants that appeared to be several sizes too large. He waved.
    â€œFather?” Linda released Sharon and picked up the pace. She wrapped her arms around him. “How much weight have you lost?”
    He smelled of pipe smoke and Scotch.
    â€œA stone or two.” He smiled.
    He looks even older when he smiles, Sharon thought.
    He lifted his head, spotted Sharon, and waved her over. She hugged Harry and thought, Christ, he’s skin and bone! “Come on in and we’ll fix you something to eat.”
    Harry went to the back of the car, opened the boot, picked up a basket, closed the hatch, and tapped the window. The driver, who wore an olive green military uniform, started the engine and pulled away.
    â€œDoesn’t he want something to eat as well?” Sharon asked.
    â€œI was hoping to have the two of you to myself for an hour.” Harry followed them into the house and set the basket on the kitchen table before returning to the front room. He sat in the wing-backed chair. “Your aunt always had hideous taste.”
    â€œShe still on the coast?” Sharon asked. In the kitchen, they could hear leather and wicker tattling as Linda lifted the lid of the basket.
    â€œAnd being a tremendous burden to her children and grandchildren, as I understand it. Consider yourselves very fortunate, despite the decor.” Harry leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes.
    Linda stepped into the room. She had cans and jars clutched to her chest. “Where did you find all of this?”
    Harry didn’t open his eyes. “In the evenings, I often walk around London and look to see what I can find. Lately, there’s been more to find in the shops near where I work.”
    â€œDo you want some help?” Sharon asked.
    â€œSit and talk with him. I’ll only be a minute.” Linda stepped back into the kitchen.
    â€œHow have you been?” Harry leaned forward.
    â€œOkay,” Sharon said.
    â€œNo, she’s not. She’s haunted by nightmares,” Linda said. There was the clatter of a plate on the kitchen table.
    Harry took a long look at his daughter-in-law. “There are those who will tell you to bury those memories. I tried that. It doesn’t work. There is a friend of mine who I see from time to time. He was in the same regiment as me. When I need to, we get together and talk about it.”
    â€œI keep thinking about the boys I killed. Seeing Molly in the wreckage has brought all of those memories back with a vengeance.” Sharon sat down on the settee upholstered in a garish pattern of yellow, pink, and red chrysanthemums.
    â€œMolly?” Harry put his elbow on the arm of the chair.
    â€œA young pilot. She crashed in bad weather earlier this month.”
    Linda brought in two plates, one with cheeses and jams, the other with biscuits.
    â€œHave you ever killed anyone?” Sharon asked.
    Harry nodded. “Both directly and indirectly. In the first war, I killed with a rifle and twice with a bayonet. Nowadays, young men die when I make a mistake in planning.”
    Linda placed a platter on the coffee table. It was a collage of rare treats. She picked up a slice of cheese biscuit, popped it into her mouth, and asked, “What’s happened, Father?”
    â€œMarket Garden.” His voice was just above a whisper.
    â€œThe papers say it was the biggest airborne operation in history.” Linda offered the plate to