Chapter 11 "This was their finest hour."

Her reflection in the train's window was one of gentle gracious beauty. Her face should be on Gainsborough canvass. Or carved as cameo set in a broach. She was totally oblivious to his scrutiny, lost in her thoughts. The landscape had changed dramatically as the train had moved north. Gone were the golden sun kissed fields of the agricultural south. The northern cities now dominated the view; the skyline was one of smoking chimneys, mills, factories and warehouses, their walls blackened by 100 years of industrial development. Even the back bone of England, the great Pennine hills were rugged harsh and dark. Life in the north was tough and the scene through the window reflected that. Milton was a thousand shades of grey and John knew them all. Margaret's face was inscrutable he could not read her thoughts and so was left to wonder what she thought of his home.

A week had passed since the kiss, how the lightest of touches could still play on his mind seven days later, he would never know. They had barely spoken all week and only then to discuss this journey. John knew he was avoiding the issue of the man at the gate. Lieutenant Henry Lennox. John had recognised him immediately; he was the officer from the ship that had rescued him. The recognition had been mutual.

"Lieutenant Thornton from HMS Worcester?" he questioned looking John up and down, his public school tone superior.

"It is Squadron leader Thornton, I trust you are recovering from the horror of Dunkirk?" he asked politely.

"Oh yes the army is made of stern stuff. The RAF will have to join in fully now not pick what fights it chooses. Is the RAF ready to dabble in this war Thornton."

"I don't know that I am the person to ask I'm not sure I know how to dabble." His northern tone in stark contrast to Henry's upper class one, He turned to face Margaret.

"Miss Hale you have had a bad shock you should go and see the doctor." His eyes roamed her face in concern.

"Nonsense I am perfectly alright. There is no need to worry." Margaret smiled in an effort to reassure him.

"In that case I will leave you and Lieutenant Lennox alone." He took charge of both bicycles and walked away through the camp.

"Shock, what shock Margaret?" Henry asked looking after the slowly retreating figure of Squadron Leader Thornton.

"A Me109 tried to frighten us that's all Henry." Margaret played the incident down.

"In that case Miss Hale let me take you to the pub down the road and I will buy you a Port and Lemon to revive your spirit." Henry offered his arm.

John had turned as Lennox took Margaret's arm and escorted her away from the camp and he watched then disappear.

He had been so deep in thought he jumped at the sound of a voice near him.

"Faint heart never won fair maiden Sir" He turned sharply

"Higgins You found your way to the base then ?" John spoke ignoring the statement the Australian had made.

"I have Sir. My girl Bess tells me that we are linked by more than the Air Force. You own the mill our ancestors worked is that true?" he enquired.

"Aye that's right my family own Marlborough Mill. She says that where your family worked in the 1800's." John looked at the man with interest, wondering what had led to his family emigrating.

"That's true I hope to get up there while I am here. Bess say's you have offered to her take up there next weekend. I am not sure that she should go alone with you. She's just a young girl." Higgins looked at his commanding officer not wishing to offend, but looking after his girl.

"Not you as well, do I look like lecherous old man? Section Officer Hale said the same thing. Tell her to bring a chaperone." John told the older man.

"No Sir you don't look like a lecherous old man and that's what worries me. Well good night Sir I will see you at training tomorrow." Higgins saluted and walked off to his hut.

So here he was one week later approaching Outward station Milton in the company of Section Officer Hale and Aircraft women Higgins. He glanced at the young Australian girl who was curled up fast asleep. She had been so excited and had spent the first part of the journey chattering away excitedly, but eventually falling asleep just before Birmingham.

The carriage door slide open, causing Margaret to look away from the window, and the guard popped his head in and informed them they were approaching Milton.

"It seems a shame to wake her." John commented as he nodded towards Bessie. "It was awfully good of you to come with her."

"Faced with her enthusiasm I had little choice." Margaret smiled.

The train drew into the station and they woke Bessie, and departed from the train. A lot of people travelling were in uniform, another sign of the times. John's height allowed him to see above the other passengers to where his mother was waiting. He directed the girls towards her.

Margaret's first thought was how like his mother John was. He had inherited his dark good looks from her; she really was a handsome woman. It was more than that though, it was something in her posture and the way she held her head that remind Margaret so much of John.

Hannah Thornton's face broke into a small smile as she saw her son. She bristled with pride at how tall and handsome he looked in his uniform. So focused on her son was she that he was at her side before she realised he was not alone.

"Mother." John pulled her into a quick hug. "How good of you to meet me, I have brought a couple of visitors with me. Mother I hope you don't mind this is Aircraft Woman Bessie Higgins, the young lady I told you about from Australia, and this is Section Officer Margaret Hale, who kindly offered to keep Bessie company on her trip. Ladies my mother Hannah Thornton." He introduced everybody.

Hannah's heart went cold as she listened to the warmth in John's voice as he mentioned Margaret Hale's name; the girl from the letter. She looked the young women over wondering if John was as serious about her as he sounded.

Are you going to hurt my son, she silently asked.

Remembering who she was she extended her hand to both girls, and in her formal way welcomed them to Milton.

The journey from the station to John Thornton's home only took about ten minutes. During which time they passed through row upon row of terraced houses layout in long straight streets, many of which were cobbled. Bessie pressed her nose to the glass of the car speechless for once almost unable to take in the site of so many houses.

Margaret was surprised when Mrs Thornton turned in at the mill; surely they were going to the house first. She was about to ask why they were coming here first when she saw that they were pulling up in front of a small Victorian mansion built at the far end of the mill yard. Its granite walls were dark almost black in parts, its long graceful windows shone and sparkled in the sunlight. The wide imposing steps led to an enormous front door complete with ornate brass knocker.

Seeing her confusion John explained that his great, great grandfather and name sake John had built the home for his mother.

"Before the war I lived here in the week but stayed at our house in the country at the weekend. My mother loves living so close to the mill. I used to have drag her away to the other house." He smiled at his mother.

It occurred to Margaret how little she had known about John Thornton. He was obviously very wealthy and surely being a mill owner would have meant he was in a reserved occupation yet he had joined up.

They entered the home through the front door which led into a grand hallway Bessie oohed and aahed over the grand stair case, the high ceilings and ornate cornice. The whole house gleamed and everywhere smelt of beeswax.

John was swept into the embrace of the servant who had opened the door, exclaiming how handsome he looked in uniform.

"Mrs Thomas could you prepare the twin guest room, as you can see my son has brought guests home. Most of the house is shut up as there is only Mrs Thomas and I here" Hannah Thornton explained.

"Oh please don't go to any trouble if you show Miss Higgins and me where the sheets are we can make up the beds we don't wish to cause you extra work," Margaret exclaimed.

You are guests of my son Miss Hale it is no trouble I assure you. Now shall we go through to the morning room for some tea."

"They have rooms for each period of the day," Bessie whispered with a giggle.

"Ladies, please will you excuse me for an hour, while I talk to my manager, and then I will be at your disposal and I will show you the factory," John said smiling at Bessie. "Then tomorrow Miss Higgins we will see if we can trace your ancestors." He turned and headed out and back across the mill yard.

Tea was served and Margaret tried to keep conversation flowing though it proved difficult, Bessie was completely overawed by her surroundings and Mrs Thornton was stiff and unbending but she did become quite animated when she spoke of her son of whom she seemed very proud.

"He is well thought of and respect in these parts as a good manufacturer and magistrate, older business men seek my sons advice Miss Hale." choosing her words careful she continued, "He's company is much sort by all the ladies of Milton."

"Surely not all." Margaret commented sharing a smile with Bess.

"Miss Hale one day when you have a son I only hope you can be as proud of him as I am. If you have finished your tea, I will show you to your room"

"Whoops put your foot in it there Miss Hale," Bessie whispered, as they followed Hannah Thornton up the stairs.

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True to his words John showed them all over the mill, the yard and offices, explaining Marlborough was one of three mills the family owned. This was the first and the one Bessie's family would have worked at. They looked at the old mill records and found Bessie's ancestors and an address where they lived. John promised to take her to look at where they lived the next day. He was obviously popular amongst his workers who stopped and asked how he was. Margaret could not help but sense however, that his responsibilities here were a burden to him. When talking of flying he was animated his face and eyes glowed, while when talking about the Mill he was quiet and subdued. He was obviously very knowledgeable and good at what he did here but it seemed if he could have chosen another life he would have.

Later that afternoon they were sat looking at pictures of the mill back in the Victorian times, laughing at the clothing, and remarking how little had changed from the outside the mill and house looked the same. They were waiting for the Prime Minster to address the house each wondering what he would have to say about the fall of France. When he began to speak the room fell silent.

"What General Weygand called the Battle of France is over. I expect that the Battle of Britain is about to begin. Upon this battle depends the survival of Christian civilization. Upon it depends our own British life, and the long continuity of our institutions and our Empire. The whole fury and might of the enemy must very soon be turned on us.

Hitler knows that he will have to break us in this Island or lose the war. If we can stand up to him, all Europe may be free and the life of the world may move forward into broad, sunlit uplands. But if we fail, then the whole world, including the United States, including all that we have known and cared for, will sink into the abyss of a new Dark Age made more sinister, and perhaps more protracted, by the lights of perverted science.

Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duties, and so bear ourselves that if the British Empire and its Commonwealth last for a thousand years, men will still say, 'This was their finest hour.'"

The room remained silently for several minutes each deep in their own thoughts. It was broken inevitably by Bessie

"That man can make bloody good speeches; no wonder you Poms think anything is possible. He makes you believe it is."