by Nesta Tuomey
Maura had been really looking forward to it, not only because Captain Higgins was renowned for the fabulous parties he gave in his palatial Foxrock home but with Simon away on winter leave for most of November, she had seen so little of him. However on the morning of the party, she had received an urgent phone call from London to say that her mother had suffered a slight heart attack and was in the intensive care unit in St. Bartholomew’s Hospital. Maura had left word for Simon that she wouldn’t be able to go with him to the party after all and flown over at once. To her relief, she found her mother was not as ill as she feared - it had been more of a warning than anything else - and so was able to fly back that night to attend Ben’s party.
Bad enough, Maura thought, if Simon had taken someone home from the party but to have arrived with Orla on his arm! It was too much. She had been aghast at his treachery but had carried it off well.
‘Hi Simon,’ she had said, ‘if you had come any later you would have missed supper,’ and turned to give Captain Drummond, who was standing beside her, a ravishing smile. ‘Any time you’re ready for that dance, Eddie.’
It had not been easy enduring the sight of a drunken Simon wrapped about the other hostess, or hearing Orla’s confident, jarring laugh but somehow Maura had managed it. Even Christy’s pointed, ‘Given lover boy the push at last, acushla. Bully for you!’ failed to rise her. As soon as she could, she had made her excuses to Captain Higgins and left the party.
She had been in the hall slipping into her evening coat, when Captain Drummond appeared suddenly by her side and offered to drive her home.
‘No bother,’ he had assured her with a smile, ‘A pleasure, in fact.’
‘Thanks Edward, but I have my car outside.’ Even in her distress, Maura had been surprised and touched.
‘I liked Eddie better,’ he had replied thoughtfully, making her blush for her earlier familiarity.
Remembering, Maura smiled faintly. He had been very understanding. He wasn’t devastatingly handsome like Graham Pender or Ben Higgins but he had a quiet strength about him which she found appealing and his manner was always easy and warm. His support that night had been a great comfort.
As for Simon, no doubt sooner or later he would stop phoning and leaving messages. She felt a pang at the thought but suffered it determinedly. So far she hadn’t given in and spoken to him and only prayed she wouldn’t weaken before going away.
There were times when Maura regretted not carrying out her intention to transfer Orla on to the Boeings, but she had felt distaste at interfering with the training programme. If Simon didn’t care enough for her to resist the lures of other women, he wasn’t worth losing sleep over. He had indulged himself once too often and she was finished with him. She could never have any respect for herself if she allowed him to get round her this time.
She had been through a tough few weeks, but she had survived them. Just about. Tomorrow she was off on winter leave. She locked some items in her drawer that she didn’t want Eva touching and frowned as she recalled how the Hostess Superintendent had sprung it on her that she was placing her niece in charge of the section while she was away. Amy Curtis had made no pretence at discussion, or even bothered to enquire if Maura had any preferences in the matter, just presented it as a fait accompli. So much for nepotism.
There had been a lot of subdued grumbling amongst the Checks over it. Beattie clearly considered that she was being passed over and Sylvie Duval had not come out of the sulks since. Eva was the last person she would have chosen. Really the only person competent enough to run things in her absence was Sadie McIntyre. She sighed, wondering what kind of mess she would find the place in on her return. Well, no use thinking of that now. She was entitled to take winter leave and no one could say it wasn’t overdue.
First stop London, she planned. There she would stay over Christmas with her mother before flying to Melbourne for five weeks. It had been a tough and lonely year and it would be a relief to share some of the strains she had endured, as well as receiving her mother’s calm sane views about it all.
FORTY FIVE
It was a few days before Graham heard the rumours about Kay and Dan Tully. He was on his way to America, taking out the second last service to New York before Christmas, when he overheard two Second Officers chortling in the pilots’ lounge over Desperate Dan’s latest escapade. Listening to them, Graham had conceived an uneasy suspicion as to who the startled hostess had been.
For some time he had been aware of the stories linking Dan Tully’s name with Kay’s and this latest piece of gossip sickened and disgusted him. How could she allow that lecherous fool near her, he wondered in anguish. As he went out to join his flight, he told himself that it was just one more blow coming after a very tough few weeks.
Following Sile’s visit to the airport the atmosphere between husband and wife had become positively glacial. Graham found it impossible to forgive her for his loss of face. He continued to sleep in Jeremy’s room until his sons came home on their school holidays and only then for the sake of appearances, reluctantly returned to his own bedroom. He spent as little time at home as possible and hardly noticed, or cared, that Sile was neglecting her appearance and looked red-eyed and subdued most of the time. If she was depressed and unhappy, it was good enough for her. She deserved it all. He should have left her years ago.
Graham spent the next few hours at the controls in the darkened cockpit in agonised reflection. One minute he took all the blame for throwing Kay into the other pilot’s arms, the next he tormented himself with the suspicion that it had needed no prompting to send her running there. He worked himself into a quiet rage and swore that as soon as he got back, he choke the life out of Dan Tully.
Gradually calming, Graham realised the futility of such an attitude. After all, what did he expect from Kay? Never to go out with another man, or only with those he approved of? He had made it damn clear to her that he was no longer interested, so did he have to act like a dog in the manger? Bloody hell! He had been so sure that day at ditching drill that he was over her. Now just look at him!
It was true that Graham had not found it too difficult to keep away from Kay in the baths that day. Her letter had landed him into a right mess at home and set into action a chain of events that could possibly affect his career. He had spoken coolly to her, forcing himself to ignore the appeal in her tear-bright eyes. It was the only sensible thing to do, he thought, unless they both wanted to end up being the talk of the airport like Joe Bradshaw and the Atlantic hostess.
Captain Bradshaw had had a long-standing affair with one of the senior hostesses and, in an attempt to force him to leave his wife, she had allowed herself become pregnant. What a rumpus it had caused. The pair of them were suspended from duty and eventually sacked from the airline. Nowhere near forgotten, it was a frightful warning to them all.
Nor was it the only affair of its kind. Many of the married crew engaged in illicit relationships with hostesses. The only difference between them and Kitty Martin, Graham told himself grimly, was that they knew how to take care of themselves and she most definitely did not! Of course, he wouldn’t have wanted her any other way but the bungled affair of the Pill had brought this home to him with shocking clarity. He still shuddered when he thought how easily he might have become another Joe Bradshaw in the eyes of the airport.
By the time he landed in Kennedy Airport, Graham felt emotionally drained. When he went out later with the crew to Greenwich Village, it was inevitable that he would drink too much and end up in someone’s room. Too bad it had to be Elaine Rooney’s.
‘Gramey baby,’ she kept calling him, making his heart contract in pain and bitter revulsion as he recalled another voice once saying ‘Grame’ in a shy, uncertain way.
Newly come on the TransAtlantic route, Elaine had let the whole thing go to her head, adopting an irritating American twang that was further accentuated by all she had had to drink. Four Tom Collins in an hour, for God’s sake, Graham thought irritabl
y.
Afterwards, bored and hating himself, he wanted only to get back to his own room but was forced to remain and listen to her brash chatter.
‘Cigarette me, baby,’ she crooned, lying back naked and satisfied. ‘Say, whatever happened to your great romance?’
‘I don’t care to discuss it,’ Graham replied shortly.
She refused to take the hint. ‘From rumours I’ve heard,’ she began - she knew something about his recent affair and saw herself Kay’s successor – ‘she wasn’t half good enough for you, Gramey. Only a few months flying, so I’ve heard and out to make it big with the pilots. Get my drift?’
Graham listened outraged. How dare she! It was all so ridiculous and untrue. His shy, innocent Kitty. He seethed with anger and disgust as Elaine babbled on.
‘What a silly, spiteful little bitch you are,’ he finally shut her up, maddened by her smug air of knowing something when she knew damn all.
Elaine pouted. ‘You don’t have to be like that, Gramey baby,’ she whined, fluttering her long lashes at him. ‘I was just telling you what I heard’
As he stumbled back to his room, Graham felt a rush of self-loathing, ‘Ah Kitty,’ he groaned. ‘What have I done to us?’
That she was wrapped all about his heart like a silken mesh, he painfully acknowledged, her loveliness ever in his thoughts, her shy sensuality a standard by which he compared all other women. He was shaken by how bereft he felt. And it had taken the encounter with a bitch like Elaine Rooney to bring it all home to him!
Two days later they landed back in Shannon. Having landed twenty minutes ahead of schedule, Graham had decided it was as well to breakfast here and save time later on in Dublin. With Christmas Eve next day, there would be plenty to do when he got home.
When his breakfast was put before him, he gave into temptation and added cream to his porridge. After seven long hours in the cockpit it was a great treat to come in and enjoy a real Irish breakfast, bacon, sausage, eggs and slices of tasty black and white pudding. He tucked in hungrily.
Sitting on the stool beside him, Elaine Rooney did her best to keep up the intimate sort of conversation she obviously felt was her due.
‘Honestly honey, it was the best overnight in ages,’ she kept insisting, as though he were disputing it, her loud voice drawing amused glances from the navigator who had roomed on the same floor and seen the couple emerging from the elevator.
Graham shuddered and asked himself if he had really slept with her. He must have been out of his mind! He rapidly drained his coffee and headed for the washroom.
There were no delays in Dublin. Everyone was anxious to get off the aircraft and be on their way. It was the same going through customs. With Christmas so near, even the grimmest officials were in relaxed seasonal mood and cheerily waved them on.
Graham wished his crew a happy Christmas and checked in his flight report and log book, before heading to his car. He stowed his parcels in the boot and slipped behind the wheel. The previous day in Macy’s he had bought his youngest son a remote controlled car. They were all the rage with the and half the price compared to at home. For Jeremy he had got a radio/cassette player. Both items had been expensive and not the only presents he had bought his sons, but Graham did not believe in stinting at this special time of year.
Before flying to America, he had collected the boys from school. How excited they had been at the prospect of coming home, especially Nicholas. ‘In term time I die but in the holidays I come to life again,’ he had confessed happily, as they left Mellwood behind.
Poor old Nicky, Graham thought. Lately, he was having a bad time of it with asthma attacks. When Graham discussed the matter with the school matron, she had suggested that the boy might be finding his first term away from home traumatic. At least Jeremy seemed well and happy, he thought. Being older than his brother he was having an easier time of it and was allowed privileges denied the younger boy. Graham still regretted having to send the boys away to boarding-school. If he and Sile had had a better relationship it wouldn’t have been necessary, he thought. Or if he were a better parent, he was forced to admit.
Only another few minutes and he would be home. He began to feel more cheerful at the thought of his sons’ faces when he hinted at the presents he had bought them. He knew he was in for twenty questions with Nicky. The boy would do everything in his power to try and get him to spill the beans. He hadn’t a hope. Graham grinned. Nicky would just have to wait until Christmas morning.
He turned in the gates of his house and was brought up short by the sight of an ambulance blocking the driveway. He stared in shock, his heart thumping painfully in his chest.
Nicky! Jeremy! Were they ill?
He got out of the car and ran towards the house. As he arrived panting on the step, two white-coated orderlies hurried through the doorway, carrying a stretcher. Graham stared in horrified disbelief as the pale, motionless body of his wife was hurried past and placed in the ambulance. The back doors were slammed shut and siren screaming, the ambulance tore out the gates and headed for the city.
FORTY SIX
For Dave Mason Christmas had come and gone, causing hardly a ripple on the surface of his busy working existence. Two days later he was back at the office preparing his company’s audit. He rubbed a hand across his eyes and got up stiffly from his desk. It was after seven o’clock and he still had a pile of work to get through.
Since Dave had taken over as Financial Controller there had been no let up at work. He crossed to the window and stood looking over the roof-tops. To think that this morning he had half-planned a game of squash after work. He gave a hollow laugh. He was too damned busy, that was the trouble.
Now he had an opportunity to go abroad for two years to work in a German subsidiary firm. He hadn’t quite reconciled himself with the thought of going away but by March he was going to have to give his boss an answer.
‘Don’t pass up this chance, Dave,’ Tony kept urging him, ‘Now when you’re young and single is the time to widen your experience. In another few years you mightn’t find it so easy to get away.’
Dave was familiar with his boss’s views on talented young executives who blighted their careers by marrying too early and saddling themselves with mortgages and growing families. He grinned ruefully. Not much chance of that where he was concerned. His social life was nil and had been for quite some time. He didn’t even get time to go to the pictures, or to a dance where he might meet the future Mrs. Mason. Perhaps in Frankfurt he would have a better chance.
His expression sobered. There were some days when he felt the lure of Germany and could even work up a bit of excitement at the prospect, but on the whole, he was reluctant to uproot himself. He didn’t think he would like living abroad that much and besides, the Germans themselves daunted him. All that clipped speech and driving ambition seemed soulless somehow. Dave was not unadventurous but he liked the more relaxed Dublin way of life. It might lack the cut and thrust of finance in Britain or Germany but he liked the way they did business here.
His thoughts turned to Kay. As usual, his mother kept him in touch with the local gossip and in December, she had lost no time informing him about Kay’s latest boyfriend. ‘Drives a fancy car and is old enough to be her father.’ She threw up her eyes piously. ‘Another married man by the look of it. Imagine! After all her convent training.’
In spite of himself, Dave had had to grin. Rather than casting him own, the latest information filled him with fresh hope. He reasoned that if Kay were going out with a different man, then the first romance, which had continued long enough to constitute a real threat was hopefully dead.
He had been delighted when Kay accepted his invitation to join them for Christmas dinner. He had hated to think of her on her own in the big old house or, like she suggested, travelling to Kilshaughlin with Peg. It had been a splendid meal, he thought, remembering all the trouble his mother had gone to and how cordial she had been to Kay. No one would ever have imagined that the
women were anything but the best of friends. Reggie too. had been on his best behaviour, enjoying the novelty of having such a pretty girl at his table.. Even Breda had chatted away, asking Kay for details about the airline and laughing at the antics of some of the pilots.
Afterwards when the others had withdrawn to sit beside the fire, Dave had filled Kay’s wine glass and hinted he might be going abroad soon himself.
‘Oh really?’ She smiled back at him. ‘Where to?’ ‘Germany,’ Dave told her.
‘Oh that’s nice,’ she had said, in the slightly patronising accent of one who regards all travel as her prerogative. ‘Skiing?’ she hazarded.
Dave had had a cynical twinkle in his grey eyes as he asked, ‘Tell me, Kay, do you ever think of anything other than holidays? We’re not all privileged to fly for Celtic Airways, you know. Some of us do have to work for a living.’
. Dave was aware that he would soon have to make a decision about Germany. Undoubtedly to go was the best thing for his career, he thought, but what about his life, his happiness? What about Kay? That the two were inextricably linked, Dave had come to realise. True, in the beginning he had believed that his greatest rival was her infatuation with the airline. He had regarded it like some kind of bug in the blood which only needed time to work itself out and, having set himself to play a waiting game, been confident that he would be there to claim her when the time came. Now he realised there were other rivals, not least his own ambition.
Dave sighed. At the other end of the scale, there was his mother strangely conspiring to keep him at home. Only the other day she had surprised him by suggesting he ask Kay to Sunday lunch. Dave was under no illusion that his parent had suddenly become besotted with Kay but it was only when she added, ‘The German women are very cold, I believe. Nothing like as friendly as our own lovely girls,’ that he shrewdly recognised the reason behind the olive branch. He was cynically amused at his parent’s capitulation in Kay’s favour when faced with the option of German womanhood, then his grin faded and a perplexed look came into his grey eyes. He wished he knew what he should do.