Isabella’s Airman Read Online Free

cleaning chores, but I didn’t. Instead, I leaned on the mop, ducked my head, and then peeked up at him. My cheeks burned some more. “I’d like that.”
    His smile broadened, and I saw a flash of relief in his eyes. “That’s all right, then. I’ll come and find you tomorrow afternoon. Around three?” I nodded. I was sure I had a matching, giddy smile on my face when I returned to the kitchen.
    This is just research, I told myself firmly as I carried on with my chores. A way of learning more about the period by interacting with the natives.
    My happy mood lasted until our shift broke for lunch and our appointment with the sentinel . Juliet and I sat on hard, wooden chairs in a small room off the chapel and waited for him to sit. The man was older than I expected, his hair silvered at the temples, but his eyes were shrewd and clear. Apart from his straight-backed military posture, you could mistake him for a priest, and the locals of the period accepted him in this role.
    “Student Gillman and Student Delafield.” We both nodded. “You may call me Father Dermott. I am your primary point of contact for any jump issues or concerns.” We nodded again. “This is an informal session today, and you may speak freely.”
    He flicked through a paperbound notebook, and then made some notes with his pencil. Apart from the scratching of graphite on paper and the light ticking of the clock on the wall, it was silent. What was he writing? He’d only just met us. I pressed my hands together in my lap and tried not to fidget. “I’d like to hear your first impressions,” he said, and looked directly at me.
    “It’s very noisy,” I ventured. “Not just the aircraft, but the people. They talk and laugh in the mess and seem relaxed. Not like I would expect soldiers in the middle of a war.”
    “Mmm. And yet the war has barely started for them. It will run for several years, although they don’t know that.” He made another note in his book. “I know your major is in data analysis, Student Gillman. I shall be looking for you to expand your social analysis during this field trip.”
    “Yes, sir.” Did that include going for a walk with a handsome airman? Or to a dance? The sentinel made another note and then turned his attention to Juliet.
    Somewhere beyond the window, an aircraft engine fired up and sputtered to a stop. There was an op tonight, and Davy would be flying. I tuned out the conversation with Juliet and strained to hear any other engine noises. The armorers might be loading up the Wellingtons with their bombs and bullets, while the engineers checked every inch of the aircraft that would be taking part in the raid. Davy may well be catching a nap right now, or was out there with his plane. I only had a theoretical idea of the flight preparations, and I wanted to know more.
    Too late, I realized the sentinel had spoken to me again. My heart raced, and I tried to recover my mistake. “My apologies, sir. Could you please repeat that?”
    “There is a message for you from your cousin, Lieutenant Marc Gallagher. I have transcribed it.” He reached out with a folded sheet of paper, and surprised, I took it and slid the note into my pocket. Why would Marc want to speak with me? He was one of the ghardians , the elite soldiers that guarded our timelines and tracked down time runaways, while I was a mere student. Even though we were related, I rarely saw him.
    Juliet asked a few questions about the different ranks and insignia, while I nodded attentively, and finally the interview was over. We’d see him again the week after, but he was available any time if we needed assistance.
    We didn’t have long before our shift resumed, and so we headed for the kitchens. Juliet nudged me as we walked. “Marc Gallagher. Isn’t he the ghardian that was awarded a commendation?”
    “Yes.”
    “What happened? Do you know?”
    “Not really. He was on a retrieval mission that went wrong, and I know he risked his own life to