twenty-four hours.
His legs were painful as he walked across the floor tiles. The hard landing had left him with swollen ankles and ligament damage in both knees. His nose was protected by a cardboard splint, held in place with long strips of sticking plaster. The operation to set it straight had been successful, but his sinuses were clogged with blood and he could only breathe through his mouth.
‘I drew a little picture,’ Paul told the nurse, as he took a thin sheet of paper from his trouser pocket. ‘It’s not very good.’
The nurse smiled as she saw the pencil drawing of herself. ‘Not very good!’ she laughed. ‘It’s bloody brilliant. You’re so sweet. Nobody’s ever drawn me before.’
Paul blushed as the nurse kissed him again. He then said goodbye to the four other patients and headed into the hospital lobby. A couple of emergency cases waited in armchairs, and Takada stood in the lobby.
‘Do you have everything?’ Takada asked.
The nurse put Paul’s small suitcase down at Takada’s feet. ‘Don’t let him carry it,’ she told him. ‘He’s got to take things very gently.’
‘Very good,’ Takada nodded, before looking at Paul. ‘All set?’
Paul had seen snow falling through the window at the end of his ward, but he was unprepared for the scene that greeted him on the doorstep. The whole world was white, with two-metre-deep snowdrifts against the hospital walls and dazzling snow caps on every tree branch and rooftop.
The cold was a shock after the dry heat of the ward and Paul buried his hands in the pockets of a grey duffle coat as they walked towards a badly rusted Morris which Takada had borrowed from the parachute school.
Paul got in the passenger seat as Takada walked around the front and cranked a starter handle. It took three attempts before the engine clattered to life, and Takada yelled at Paul to pull the choke lever before it cut out.
‘So how’s the training going?’ Paul asked, as Takada got in.
‘Good, I think,’ Takada answered, as he let out the handbrake.
‘Marc’s not had any more trouble?’
Takada shook his head. ‘All good,’ he said. ‘He made two jumps from the Wellington yesterday, no trouble. Norwegian lady broke leg.’
Paul nodded. ‘I thought I recognised her when they brought her in.’
The elderly car turned out of the hospital gate and misfired. Frightened birds shot into the sky as it pulled on to a road covered with black ice.
‘This morning is ground training,’ Takada explained. ‘They let me out to fetch you. This afternoon, we make two drops. If they perfect we get our parachute wings.’
‘It’s a pity I missed out,’ Paul said. ‘Is there any news on Walker’s final exercise?’
The answer was delayed because Takada had taken a bend fast and the back wheels skidded out into the opposite lane. He was a skilful driver and he threw the steering wheel into the direction of the skid and applied extra power to pull the car back into a straight line.
‘It’s horrible driving in this,’ Takada said. ‘I believe all four units will go into the final exercise if we pass training. Walker is due to arrive later.’
‘Will you take part?’ Paul asked.
‘No,’ Takada said. ‘Trainee agents, not instructors.’
‘And has anyone heard about Henderson?’
‘I spoke to McAfferty on telephone last night. He’s been moved to a hospital nearer London. He needs a minor operation to stop bleeding.’
‘And Joan?’ Paul asked.
‘Gone,’ Takada said. ‘No police charges, but she’s been committed to an institution.’
‘Oh,’ Paul said, shocked. ‘I hope Troy’s coping OK with the spiders.’
Takada shook his head. ‘They incinerate,’ he said, before he remembered that McAfferty had asked him not to tell Paul this. She’d wanted to sit down and talk it through properly.
‘What?’ Paul gasped, his blocked nose making his voice nasal as it grew loud.
‘I’m sorry,’ Takada said. ‘But there’s a war on, you know? More important than spiders, I think.’
Paul was upset and furious at the same time. ‘They never hurt anyone,’ he cried angrily.
*
The atmosphere in the parachute school had changed over the three days that Paul had been away. He arrived to find the trainees taking their morning tea in the classroom. The rules on fraternisation had gone out of the window and all four groups were on friendly terms.
PT was the centre of attention. He sat at the lecturer’s desk, with three upside-down teacups in front of him. He was entertaining the Frenchmen and Poles by sliding them around the tabletop and making them guess which one had a table-tennis