An Irish Doctor In Love And At Sea - Plot & Excerpts
The now-familiar, accented voice of squadron leader and pilot Ludomil “Effendi” Rayski came tinnily over Fingal’s intercom earphones. He was sitting beside Rayski in the nose of the Blenheim bomber, yet, even there, the device was necessary. The constant roaring of the twin air-cooled Mercury engines made ordinary conversation impossible. His oxygen mask had a built-in microphone and smelled of rubber, but at least that stifled the other smells—of sweat and aviation fuel. To show he understood, Fingal nodded at Rayski. “After that, one more refuelling stop at Luxor and then to Cairo’s Abu Sueir aerodrome. Nearly home for you.” Nearly home. He wondered how long the word “home” for him would mean the flat at the Terrace in Alverstoke with Deirdre. He would not be sorry to see Warspite again, though. He was eager to know how Richard Wilcoxson and the SBAs were getting on, how his old friend Tom Laverty, Warspite’s navigating officer, was. Since he’d parted from Deirdre in Southampton Station, the last thirty-two days had been ones of constant travel and an almost persistent ache of missing her.
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