Here's another extract from 'A Kestrel Rising'
The cold winter sun was beginning to slide towards the west, across the Old North Road, before the planes began to return. Ilona had made it to the runway’s edge in time to see them circle before their final approach. The throaty drone of their engines was the only sound in the afternoon silence. She shivered as she stood beside the bus, hands in the warm pockets of her airman’s jacket, as, one by one, the planes touched down. She shielded her eyes from the glare of the sun and looked at the final plane, because Ian always seemed to be the one bringing up the rear. As it began to descend towards the runway, she watched the nearest wing carefully and smiled to herself as it dipped towards her, like a bow. That simple, secret gesture touched her more than any kiss. She wanted to wave wildly but, instead, she waited until the crews began to emerge from their planes and started her drive to pick up her weary passengers.