Chapter Text
Thriplow, Cambridgeshire, May 1943
“Well, This was a truly awful idea.”
Kate sighed as she sat at the table, the band blaring through the air and people milling all around her. From the very moment Edwina suggested it, as gently as Edwina ever did anything, she knew it would be a colossal mistake.
Edwina had come home from the WI meeting with their mother, sighing while Kate was practically burning the back of her throat eating dinner, already in uniform, already on her way out the door.
“Guess what?”
Kate raised one eyebrow, her spoon frozen halfway to her lips, “Deidre came up with a new scone recipe that was revolutionary?”
Mary bit back a smile, kissing her cheek while Edwina swatted at her, “No. It’s far more exciting than that.”
“More exciting than a new scone recipe?” Kate teased her, “Well, I’m not sure Thriplow’s ready for that.”
“If you mention scones one more time I’m going to have to hit you,” Edwina said sharply, narrowing her eyes.
“You’d better tell me then. Before I perish from the anticipation of it all.”
“Daphne and I convinced everyone that we should have a dance!”
Kate groaned at the thought of it. Of course, Daphne had thought it was a good idea, she’d moved to the village late last year, the newly made Mrs Basset just nineteen years old, enamoured with her husband just like all the other war wives who had flocked to the tiny village and never knew how their lives were about to change until their husbands ended up in Kate’s care. Screaming for the world to end. Despite how young Daphne Basset was, and truly, her husband was young to be so well respected at Duxford as well, there was a sort of… authority about her that Kate hadn’t quite been able to ignore, that truly no one in the village had. She smiled so politely, with nothing short of steely determination behind it as she slowly turned them all to her way of thinking, and Kate truly hadn’t seemed to have much of a choice in the matter when they’d met at Thriplow House, Daphne delivering sweets to the injured airmen and the younger woman had said-
“You and I are going to be very good friends, Kate Sharma.”
“Are we?” Kate said, confusion rising in her chest.
“Of course. I’ll see to it.” And as she’d walked away, Kate had honestly believed her.
“I’m not going to a dance, Edwina,” Kate chuckled, “I’ll hardly have the time.” she’d checked the watch pinned to her uniform pointedly.
“But if you’re not working you’ll come with me, won’t you?”
“Let me think about that: No.”
“Kate!” Edwina whined, looking to their mother for help. “We never get to have any fun anymore and this could be fun! Daphne said Simon will make sure all the officer’s come!”
Kate rolled her eyes, “You just want to go to see that American bombardier who keeps smiling at you in the village.”
Edwina looked away, her lips parting, “And would that really be so bad if I did?! All I want is one night when I don’t have to think about blackout curtains, and whether or not we have enough sugar at the grocer’s, or darning my jersey and skirt for the hundredth time.”
Kate stared back at her sister, eighteen and yet somehow so much older than Kate had had to be at her age and the ache in her chest for everything they’d lost had started fresh. “No, ducky, that’s not a bad thing, I’ll go with you if I have the night off.”
She hadn’t really thought she would get the night off, had been the thing. She’d stared at Sister Danbury in abject shock when the matron had nudged her out of the way last night and said-
“I don’t think we’ll be needing you tomorrow, after all, Nurse Sharma.”
Kate blinked at her for several long moments, nearly dropping the bandages she’d been carrying as she passed the makeshift desk that had been set up in the centre of the room. “Why not?”
Sister Danbury had rolled her eyes, “I had heard there was something of a dance happening in the village tomorrow night.”
“But I’m needed here.”
“What you need, what all of your young people need is to remember that you are young. Go and find a handsome pilot to spin you around the dance floor for the night.”
But that was the very last thing she wanted.
She remembered still, the look on her father’s face when he’d put his uniform on again, so different from the young men she saw parading around the village, their shoulders proud and square in their shiny new uniforms with no idea the hours that lay ahead of them. But Kate knew, now she knew. Now she knew how men she’d grown up with, known her entire life and danced with at the village fairs screamed for their mothers while Kate held them down and the Doctors worked. She saw how broken they would come back, how their smiles would never reach their eyes again and they’d wake up in the night, screaming as though their bodies were still burning until their voices were hoarse.
And yet here they all were, standing around now, laughing and smiling and smoking cigarettes and whistling at girls as they passed while they twirled around the room as if none of it would ever touch them. As though the things happening across the channel were only stories meant to scare them. As though London wasn’t half in ruins and almost every man she had ever known wasn’t dead. Her father included.
Kate sighed, trying not to feel her heart sinking in her chest as she watched Edwina across the room, her lower lip caught between her teeth as the handsome young man who’d been blushing as he made his way over to them and introduced himself in a drawling accent as Second Lieutenant Matthew Bagwell, Ma’am, Very much at your service spoke to her with his eyes bright and his hat tucked under his arm, his eyes shining brightly. And something ached in her chest. Not jealousy, not that, something painful, something for the reality that Edwina would hopefully never know.
“Excuse me, Miss, I couldn’t help but notice you over here.”
Kate turned towards the voice, ignoring the tiny flutter in her stomach as he smiled charmingly down at her. He had his forage cap perched on his head, as though he’d only just come from duty, silver wings shining proudly on his chest, his eyes sparkling. BRIDGERTON stamped proudly on the nameplate.
Kate started a little at the name. Bridgerton, something apprehension churning her stomach as she read her friend’s maiden name on the handsome man’s chest and her heart sank.
Daphne had looked curiously at her as they’d eaten dinner together two nights ago, her head tilted, “Are you planning on coming to the dance on Saturday?”
Kate rolled her eyes, “As I’m sure Edwina’s told you, I’m not. I have to work for one, and for another, I’ve no desire to stand in the corner all night watching a bunch of randy pilots chase after girls.”
Simon, Squadron Leader Basset officially, bit back a laugh, his face turning serious as his wife shot him a disapproving look. “Well, I’d like to vouch for most of the men but… honestly they’re like animals that haven’t been let out of a cage in months.”
“I rest my case.” Kate smiled. “Sorry, Daph, whatever scheme you’re cooking up will have to wait.”
“There’s no scheme,” Daphne said dismissively, turning back to her dinner.
“Is there not?” Simon had raised his eyebrow sceptically. “Because I remember you being very disappointed when Anthony-”
“Whose Anthony?” Kate asked sharply
Daphne sent her husband a furious look who pretended not to have seen it before she turned back to Kate, “Anthony is my older brother.”
“Daphne, no.” Kate groaned, shaking her head at her friend.
“No, no!" Daphne said quickly, “He’s been on loan, and he’s only just come back to Duxford and-”
“I’m not looking for a husband, Daph.” Kate sighed, rolling her eyes.
“Well, then she’s right,” Simon smirked. “You really are perfect for one another. Because Anthony’s definitely not looking for a wife.”
“Oh well,” Kate grinned while Daphne swatted at her husband, “A match made in heaven then.”
And yet here he was, tall, and handsome and helping himself into the seat beside her with a grin on his face. She cleared her throat, still trying to avoid looking directly at her. “Lucky me.”
He chuckled, his eyes flashing with something like a challenge. “Might I enquire after your name?”
“Might I enquire if you always refuse to remove your hat in the presence of a woman and indoors in clear violation of uniform regulations?”
That pulled him up short, she realised with a spike of pride as his ears turned red and he snatched his hat off his head, tucking it into his pocket before he cleared his throat, and her eyes caught on the curl of dark hair that fell over his brow “Now that I’m a little less formally attired, practically stripped down to my socks, I think I deserve your name.”
She fought the urge to roll her eyes, “Kate. Kate Sharma.”
He grinned at her, inclining his head with a cocky smile, winking at a man who walked past, clapping him on the shoulder Oof Bridgerton’s at it again. “How do you do Miss Sharma?”
“Very well,” She let her eyes flick to his insignia “Flight Lieutenant Bridgerton.”
He clicked his tongue, something smug in his expression, as he leaned forward as though he was telling her a secret, “Oh pretty girls get to call me Anthony.”
Kate leaned backwards, ignoring the way her heart fluttered in her chest, “I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”
Anthony’s brow furrowed, “Are you always this prickly?”
“Are you always this arrogant?”
“Now! Take a look at the person you’re talking to and say hello to your new Dance partner“ Daphne’s voice boomed over the microphone and Kate could have cursed her.
Anthony grinned at her, the crease that had been between his eyebrows, so prominent seconds before, disappeared entirely, holding out his hand, “Come on then.”
Kate shook her head, her eyebrows shooting upwards, irritation flickering in her chest “I’m not going to dance with you. Not if it would end this war.”
Anthony’s laughter boomed, happy and bright as he snatched her hand off the table, “I know you know my sister, so I know you know all of her orders are to be expressly obeyed.”
Kate let herself be tugged onto the dance floor, trying to ignore the burn in her cheeks as he grinned at her, placing his hand on her waist, so handsome and smug, as though he never worried about anything.
“Are you enjoying yourself tonight?” He lead her around the dance floor, his chest pressed against hers though his hands stayed fixed properly in place.
“Honestly no.”
Anthony chuckled again, the noise, soft and warm, “Well, that’s not the attitude. Aren’t you ladies supposed to be keeping your spirits up and your skirts short to keep the boys at the front entertained?”
And she has no idea what made her do it, didn’t even realise she was going to until her hand slapped him across the face and the entire Air Force it seemed like erupted into laughter. Even him, damn it.
And her cheeks had burned as she’d turned on her heel and marched from the hall.
“I heard you made quite a stir at the dance on Saturday.” Sister Danbury was smirking at her, as Kate walked past, rolling her eyes.
“Is Lieutenant Bridgerton proudly sporting the imprint of my hand this week?” Kate quipped, “I assure you, he deserved it.”
“I’m sire he did.” She hummed, holding out an envelope, “You’ve a letter.”
Kate blinked at her, “To give to whom?”
“You. It arrived this morning.”
Kate stared down at the envelope thrust into her hand, confusion warring away in her chest as she looked at the unfamiliar handwriting
Her hand shook a little as she opened it, her brow furrowing, as she skimmed to the bottom of the short missive to read the name printed there. And then her heart sank.
Kate scoffed as she read it several times in quick succession, snatching a piece of paper and a pen from the writing supplies they kept for the patients, scrawling hurriedly across the page as she muttered,
“The audacity of that man knows absolutely no bounds!”
She stared down at her letter, with a savage sort of pride at the cool dismissive tone she’d managed, stabbing at the envelope with the pen as she addressed it, slipping it into the pile of letters to be sent home to families and resolved to think no more of Anthony Bridgerton.
Thriplow, Cambridgeshire, July 1943
“Kate!”
The matron's voice rang through the ward, the alarm in it causing panic in Kate’s own chest and she hurried forward, her body already slowly turning numb to whatever she would see in the tiny room.
Airmen were carrying in a stretcher, a man with his face obscured lying deathly still, doctor’s already rushing forward.
“No one’s sure how he survived.” One man was saying, his voice incredulous. “They pulled him from the wreckage and he’s not- he’s not woken since. We only wanted him brought back here as soon as possible.”
Sister Danbury moved aside to allow Kate to step inside the room and her heart sank. Because she knew the man lying there. She knew how his dark hair curled over his brows, and for some reason, she knew the tiny crease between those eyebrows. She knew him even with the cuts over his face and torso.
She knew who it was even before the officer handed her his dog tags.
She knew the name that was stamped there.
And her heart sank in her chest.