Blackbirds by Garry Ryan

pocket.”
    This thing looks like it was built for the last war , Sharon thought as she completed the walk around. “It looks like a school bus with wings!” The plane smelled of oil, gasoline and dope — a flammable concoction. She had a flashback of Richard’s scarred face. “And where is Scapa Flow?”
    Linda sat in the cockpit and began reading the page on the Swordfish. “It’s a naval base on an island north of Scotland.”
    Sharon climbed into the middle cockpit.
    â€œClear!” Linda started the engine and throttled back. When she was settled in, Sharon tapped Linda’s shoulder.
    Three minutes later, they were airborne and headed northeast.
    Sharon was glad she brought her goggles. Engine exhaust and oil blew back into her face.
    The landing lights were on at Leeds when they touched down.
    The driver was waiting for them. For the next hour and a half, Linda slept on one side of the Rolls with Sharon napping on the other.
    Sharon awoke with the driver saying, “Madam,” and shaking her shoulder. She opened her eyes to her grandmother’s estate. There were lights in every window, automobiles parked all along the drive, and a sky speckled with stars. They climbed out of the back seat.
    Their boots crunched over the gravel. Linda said, “Come on around the back. Mum often helps in the kitchen when your grandmother has one of her soirées.”
    Sharon followed Linda into the shadow alongside the house. A stone path led to the back. Light and the smell of food seeped out into the back garden. I’m starved!
    Linda walked through the doorway. Sharon followed.
    â€œLinda! What a grand surprise!” The woman behind the voice was a pound or two under one hundred and her silver hair was tied back into a tight bun. She wrapped her arms around Linda and held her cheek against Linda’s neck.
    â€œHello, Anne,” Linda said.
    â€œLinda?” Honeysuckle carried a stacked tray of dirty dinner plates that she set down with a clatter on the counter. She too hugged Linda. “And you brought Sharon with you!”
    â€œMother, we need to talk,” Linda said.
    Sharon stopped, and all noise and motion in the room ceased while Linda led her mother outside.
    Sharon hung her jacket on the back of a chair. “Where can I wash up?”
    â€œOver there.” Anne pointed to a sink on Sharon’s left.
    Sharon rolled up her sleeves. She scrubbed her hands and made a quick check in the mirror. I look like an owl! She worked at removing the oil and exhaust residue from her face.
    Anne said, “Oi! Hand us one of the pies from the storeroom!”
    Sharon looked at Anne, who was pointing at a closed door on the left-hand side of the kitchen. As she turned, she saw a pair of polished black shoes coming down the stairs into the kitchen.
    She went to the storeroom door, opened it, and searched for a light switch. It was hidden inside a shelf just to her right. After she turned on the light, she looked around at the shelves of canned goods, jars, and sacks of food on either side of the narrow room. There you are . The pies were at the end of the room. She walked toward them and felt the cooler air touching the wet strands of hair framing her face.
    The door closed.
    The light went off.
    Sharon turned.
    There was the sound of leather-soled shoes on the stone floor.
    â€œYou’re new here,” a man’s voice said.
    â€œWho are you?” Sharon caught the scent of pipe smoke and gin.
    â€œThe man of the house.” His hands touched her shoulders.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” Sharon felt a knee jammed into her crotch. She tried to hit him, but he was too close.
    He grabbed her wrists and held them together with one of his hands. With the other, he probed between her legs.
    Sharon tried to breathe, but he had her pushed up against the shelves. “Don’t. Please don’t.” Fear made it hard to think. Just wait. When you