2-7（在线收听）

7.

Pa knew I was living at Knights Hill, knew what I was up to. And he was just down the road atSandringham on an extended visit. And yet he never dropped in. Giving me space, I guess.

Also, he was still very much in his newlywed phase, even though the wedding was more thantwo years prior.

Then one day he looked up in the sky and saw a Typhoon aircraft doing low passes along theseawall and he figured it must be me. So he got into his Audi and hurried over.

He found me in the marshes, on a quad bike, talking to a Typhoon some miles off. While Iwaited for the Typhoon to appear in the sky overhead we had a quick chat. He said he could seehow good I was getting at this new job. Above all, he could see how hard I was working at it, andthat delighted him.

Pa had always been a worker. He believed in work. Everyone must work, he often said. But hisown work was also a kind of religion, because he was furiously trying to save the planet. He’dbeen fighting for decades to alert people to climate change, never flagging, despite being cruellymocked by the press as a Henny Penny. Countless times, late at night, Willy and I would find himat his desk amid mountains of bulging blue postbags—his correspondence. More than once wediscovered him, face on the desk, fast asleep. We’d shake his shoulders and up he’d bob, a pieceof paper stuck to his forehead.

But along with the importance of work, he also believed in the magic of flight. He was ahelicopter pilot, after all, so he particularly loved seeing me steer these jets over the marshy flats atungodly speeds. I mentioned that the good citizens of Wolferton didn’t share his enthusiasm. Aten- thousand- kilo jet roaring just over their tiled roofs didn’t exactly cause jubilation. RAFMarham had received dozens of complaints. Sandringham was supposed to be a no-fly zone.

All complainants were told: Such is war.

I loved seeing Pa, loved feeling his pride, and I felt buoyed by his praise, but I had to get backto work. I was mid-control, couldn’t tell the Typhoon to please hold on a moment.

Yes, yes, darling boy, back to work.

He drove off. As he went down the track I told the Typhoon: New target. Gray Audi. Headedsoutheast from my position down track. Towards a big silver barn oriented east-west.

The Typhoon tracked Pa, did a low pass straight over him, almost shattering the windows ofhis Audi.

But ultimately spared him. On my orders.

It went on to blow a silver barn to smithereens.