Inherit the Skies

by Janet Tanner

  ‘Of course. We’ve always been a team, you and I.’

  ‘But it’s your money – your inheritance. Max. It wouldn’t be right for you to use it to keep me as well.’

  ‘I guessed you would say that and I have given it some thought,’ Max said easily. ‘There are two ways around it as I see things. Either you work for me and I pay you a wage. Or – and I must say this is the solution I favour – we’ll split the money and the costs fifty/fifty and call it a loan. You can pay me back when you are able. Though if I am right and we make as much money out of our aeroplane as I think we will I shall probably be too rich to care much whether you pay me back or not.’

  ‘I certainly would pay you back,’ Adam said decisively. ‘ I don’t like being indebted to anyone, Max – even to you.’ He was silent for a moment reflecting on the irony of the situation. Once there had been enough money in his family to make Max ‘s £1000 look like small change. His mother’s family had been Irish nobility with estates and properties that had amounted to a small fortune. But her father, third son of the Earl, had been a profligate. His share of the inheritance had been squandered on gambling and high living and eventually he had fled to England pursued by his creditors. When she had married Adam’s father, a down-to-earth Liverpool ship owner, he had given her the first security she had known, but it had been short lived. He had been ruined by a series of devastating losses and died a poor and broken man, leaving nothing but the crumbling ruin of their once impressive home and just enough money to keep it habitable for the duration of his wife’s life. Apart from two good suits, a gold ring, a pocket watch and a hip flask still half full of fine old brandy Adam had not benefited at all. But this latest downturn in his family’s fortunes had served to reinforce Adam’s dislike of owing money. Neither a borrower nor a lender be, his mother, mindful of the follies of her ancestors, had used to say and Adam could see the sense in it. He had no wish to follow his grandfather into ruin and disgrace or his father into bankruptcy.

  ‘Well, are we agreed?’ Max asked and Adam nodded.

  ‘Yes. I must admit it’s a heaven sent opportunity. Everything seems to be going our way and if we can give the project our full attention I reckon we should be in the air in say six months.’

  ‘You mean you can be in the air.’ Max’s face grew serious. ‘I envy you, Adam, and I don’t mind admitting it. I only wish I could be the one to try out the aeroplane when it’s ready.’

  ‘Maybe you will be able to,’ Adam said, pouring tea.

  ‘With this arm of mine?’ Max shook his head sadly and as if to prove his statement used his right hand to lift his left onto his lap. It lay there, withered into a permanently hooked claw, half the size it should be. Max had been the victim of infantile paralysis as a child; the withered arm was its legacy. But it had not bred self-pity in him. Max was as adept with one hand as most men were with two and his brilliant mind more than made up for his disability. The most innovative aspects of design were due to his genius and Adam accepted that without Max it was unlikely the aeroplane could ever have been more than a dream.

  Flying it however would be a different matter. The present design meant two hands were needed to manage the rudder bar and as yet they had been unable to come up with a workable alternative.

  ‘One day maybe – but not yet,’ Max said firmly. ‘ We can’t waste precious time looking for alternatives simply to suit me. Let’s work with what we’ve got and get the machine into the air with you at the controls, Adam. There will be time enough for me later.’

  ‘I dare say you are right,’ Adam admitted reluctantly.

  Max drained his cup.

  ‘Which brings us to your problems, Adam,’ he said equably. ‘ If anyone is wasting time just now it is you. I can’t see one single change of any significance in the plans you were so busily not poring over when I came in.’

  ‘I was thinking,’ Adam said a touch irritably.

  ‘But not about our aeroplane, I’ll warrant.’ Max cast him a shrewd glance. ‘What you were thinking about was that young lady who is occupying so much of your attention unless I am very much mistaken.’

  ‘You mean Sarah Thomas I presume.’ Adam said steadily.

  ‘I do indeed. You are besotted with her, Adam.’

  ‘Rubbish! All I did was travel down to Bristol with her. Now can we drop the subject?’

  ‘No,’ Max said evenly. ‘I don’t think we can. You’ll never put your whole attention to our project while you are mooning about her. For heaven’s sake go and see her and fight your suit.’

  ‘I would have thought the last thing I wanted just now was a woman to distract me.’ Adam ran a hand through his thick fair hair.

  ‘You’d work a great deal better if you had a satisfactory love life,’ Max persisted. ‘ Look at me and Annie if you have any doubts.’

  Adam smiled wryly. Annie was Max’s young lady, a sweet-natured girl whose sole role in Max’s life seemed to be providing endless cups of tea and coffee and operating the heavy old industrial sewing machine they had acquired for stitching canvas. Adam could not imagine Sarah Thomas standing for that sort of treatment. She was a girl who was used to being at the centre of things, not some kind of willing unpaid servant. And in any case …

  ‘Sarah Thomas is not interested in me,’ he said bad-temperedly. ‘She is engaged to Eric Gardiner.’

  Max shook his head, laughing.

  ‘Adam, the woman who is not interested in you is not yet born,’ he said. ‘Engaged or not you could get her if you wanted her. And you do. Listen to Uncle Max.’

  Adam slammed down his cup. ‘ I’ve listened enough. I don’t need your lectures or your advice.’

  ‘Oh yes you do,’ Max said quietly. ‘And I will put it to you straight, Adam. Either you make an effort to woo the lovely Sarah or you’ll get not a penny piece of my £1000 either as a wage or a loan. Do I make myself clear?’

  Suddenly Adam’s bad temper disintegrated. He gave a snort of laughter.

  ‘Max, you are nothing but a blackmailing swine. Though what it is to you I can’t imagine.’

  ‘My peace of mind and both our futures,’ Max said equably. ‘Will you do it?’

  ‘All right. Just for you and to prove that you are wrong. Sarah Thomas will turn me down flat, I promise you,’ Adam said lightly.

  But for all his levity he was aware of a core of determination hardening within him. Like hell she’d turn him down! He did want her – Max was right about that. And by George he meant to have her!

  When she left Alexandra Palace two nights later he was waiting. She saw his Panhard parked in the road and her heart lurched uncomfortably.

  ‘Why hello,’ he said when she drew level with the motor.

  ‘Hello. If you are looking for Eric I’m afraid you’re out of luck. He and Henry have gone over to visit the Short brothers at their factory.’

  ‘I’m not looking for Eric. It’s you I came to see.’ His tone was light but his eyes held hers and she felt the colour rushing into her cheeks.

  ‘I thought you could make use of a ride home since you are without your usual transport,’ he said and she thought: so he knew! He knew all the time that Eric was not here today – and that is why he came!

  ‘Thank you but I quite enjoy a walk on a pleasant summer evening,’ she said stiffly.

  ‘Oh dear. There were several things I wanted to discuss regarding your friend Mr Morse and I thought driving you home would be an ideal opportunity to talk. But of course if you prefer to walk …’

  Her flush deepened. She hoped he had not read her thoughts.

  ‘Very well,’ she said ungraciously, climbing up into the motor. ‘What did you want to talk about?’

  ‘Max and I have decided to accept Gilbert’s kind offer. We are giving notice at the motor works and moving our project lock, stock and barrel to Somerset.’ He glanced at her. ‘I thought you would like to know.’

  ‘Oh yes … good.’ She couldn’t decide whether she was glad or so
rry. Gilbert would be pleased she knew and it was nice to think of the aeroplane being built at Chewton Leigh. But if Adam went to Somerset it meant she would not see him very often if at all. It should not matter to her; if anything she should be relieved, considering the unbelievable turmoil he caused in her, but she felt only a creeping dismay.

  ‘Why don’t you come too?’ he said. His voice was as light as before but the words brought her up with a shock.

  ‘Me?’

  ‘Why not? It’s your home isn’t it? Gilbert made it clear they would welcome you.’

  ‘Gilbert might. The others certainly would not …’ She broke off, biting her lip. She had no intention of laying her history bare to him. ‘In any case my life is here.’

  ‘Ballooning? That will soon be a thing of the past. You should be looking at the future, Sarah. And the future is aeroplanes.’

  She was silent for a moment remembering. Gilbert had once said something of the kind to her …

  ‘It is going to be a very exciting time,’ he said. ‘Wouldn’t you like to be a part of it?’

  Still she was silent. His words were painting pictures in her mind; pictures she knew she had no right to be seeing and a small spiral of excitement was twisting within her. Oh yes, she would have liked to be a part of it all – but it was out of the question.

  ‘I couldn’t possibly,’ she said.

  He swung the car off the road into a small leafy park. Two little boys were bowling hoops along the path and a nanny, out for an early evening stroll before putting her charge to bed, pushed a perambulator on the sunny side of the road. Adam cruised the motor to a halt and turned to look at her.

  ‘What are you afraid of?’ he asked.

  ‘I don’t know what you are talking about. And why have we stopped?’

  ‘We have stopped to make it easier to talk. Come to Bristol, Sarah. You don’t have to move back into the big house if you don’t want to. Annie, Max’s fiancée, is coming with us and we shall have to find lodgings for her. The two of you could share a room.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous! I don’t even know her.’

  ‘But you will and you will like her, I am sure. It’s going to be an adventure – I thought you had a taste for adventure.’

  ‘I have but … why are you trying so hard to persuade me? You want me to act as go-between with Gilbert, I suppose?’

  His mouth quirked. ‘Is that what you think?’

  ‘I can’t do it, Adam. It’s crazy. What would Eric say?’

  ‘I don’t suppose he’d be very pleased. But that’s beside the point.’

  ‘I have to consider him. After all I am supposed to be marrying him.’

  There was a tiny pause. Then he said: ‘That, of course, is your mistake.’

  The blood rushed to her skin again. She could feel it tickling and prickling at every pore.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You shouldn’t be marrying him.’ His voice was even. ‘You don’t love him.’

  Her chin came up. ‘That is none of your business.’

  ‘Perhaps not. But I intend to make it my business.’

  ‘Really? And who do you think I should be marrying?’

  His eyes held hers; she felt the breath constrict in her throat.

  ‘Well, me of course,’ he said.

  Somehow she had known exactly what he was going to say yet the words still shocked her. The nerve of the man! The sheer bare-faced cheek of him! And yet … oh, when he looked at her in that way, the crazy response it evoked in her! – her heart hammering so that it echoed in each and every pulse, the spiralling excitement within so sharp it was like the twist of a corkscrew, the prickling of her skin, sensitised, drawn towards him like a pin to a magnet though they were sitting the car’s width apart. Involuntarily she found herself remembering the way it had felt the night he had almost kissed her – the rocklike strength of his body, the trembling eagerness of her own. For a moment suspended in time she imagined what it would be like to give herself up to these churning emotions, launching herself into the unknown as she had done the first time she had jumped from the edge of the balloon basket. Then her fingers, twisting together in her lap, encountered her ring and fastened on it, and reality came rushing in. Her breath escaped in a gasp that was half laugh, half sob.

  ‘You’re crazy!’

  ‘Maybe we should all be a little crazy once in a while. And nothing is as crazy as marrying a man you don’t love.’

  ‘Why do you keep saying I don’t love him? I thought you were supposed to be Eric’s friend!’

  ‘I am. But you are not doing him any favours marrying him the way you feel.’

  ‘How do you know how I feel?’

  ‘Oh believe me, Sarah, I do.’

  There was no mockery in his face now. He was looking at her directly, not making the slightest move towards her, just looking – she felt as if he was able to strip away every pretence and see her very soul. Her fingers tightened on her ring, the only contact with normality. She was panicking now; it was as if she had launched herself into space only to find her parachute cord was jammed.

  ‘Please, Adam, take me home,’ she said. He made no move. ‘If you don’t take me home this very minute I shall get out of the car again. And we are not in the middle of nowhere now but in the heart of London.’

  Her tone left no room for argument. Without a word he got out and swung the starting handle. She sat stiffly trying to hide the fact that she was still trembling. Neither spoke until he had parked at the kerb outside Molly Norkett’s tea shop.

  ‘Thank you,’ Sarah said stiffly.

  ‘My pleasure.’ His features were hard – no smile now, no teasing. She felt inexplicably bereft.

  ‘Adam …’

  ‘No, Sarah,’ he said, ‘your life is your own. You have made your decision – don’t apologise for it.’

  She drew herself up. ‘I wasn’t going to!’

  ‘Good. I only hope you don’t live to regret it.’

  Then he was gone and she was left staring after the cloud of exhaust fumes while the sense of loss spread through her body and it was all she could do not to take to her heels and run after him.

  Hellfire and damnation! he was thinking as he pressed his foot down hard and the car hurtled joltingly across the cobbles. You made a pig’s ear of that, my lad. But then, as the saying goes-you can’t win’em all … And the fact that Sarah was the only one you have ever really wanted to win is neither here nor there.

  So – go back to the drawing board. Give all your attention to building an aeroplane and learning to fly. And make up your mind to forget Miss Sarah Thomas once and for all.

  But even so, determined as he was, single-minded as he could be, Adam knew it would not be that easy.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Night after night in the long silent hours she lay sleepless, thinking of Adam and Eric and her own confused emotions and wondering what she should do.

  She had only herself to blame for the fiasco, of course. She should never have agreed to marry Eric. She had been fooling herself to think it would be enough to feel safe and cherished, content with the companionship of a man who loved her. She should have listened instead to the small voice of doubt which had warned her that one day there might be a man who could stir her deeper emotions. Now she had met that man and she knew with certainty that however well Eric might treat her, however much she liked and respected him, it was not enough.

  She would have to tell him – it was not fair to either of them to keep up the charade. But how … how? And when she had told him – what then? Would she be able to continue with The Flying Dares? To do so might be awkward to say the least and painful for Eric, but it was the only life she knew and she enjoyed it too much to want to give it up.

  As for Adam … though just thinking about him sent her senses reeling she could not believe he had any serious intention towards her. He was arrogant, conceited, too sure of himself by half, and it would be quite in keeping
with what she knew of him if the things he had said had been simply a game he was playing for his own amusement, safe in the knowledge that she belonged to someone else. Yet for all that she felt herself drawn like a moth to a flame, drawn by the same sense of danger that ballooning had once excited in her. And she knew that now she had experienced this attraction for a man – attraction so powerful that the very air seemed to snap and crackle with electricity when they were together – she could not settle for less.

  There was nothing for it. Much as she hated the thought of hurting Eric, it had to be done. And the sooner the better.

  The balloon rose skywards a little less smoothly than usual for the breeze had turned suddenly gusty. In her sling beneath it Sarah hung with her customary grace, smiling and waving a small Union Jack to the crowds who craned their necks to watch her.

  There was always certain to be a good crowd at a Miners’ Gala and this one, in the heart of the Yorkshire coalfield, was no exception. First there had been the procession with the colourful banners and the marching bands followed by the stirring speeches from the platform. Now the emphasis had moved from politics to entertainment, the highlight of which was to be Sarah’s parachute descent. Today, with no prospect of the patrons being able to afford to ride in the basket as better-off spectators did, Sarah was to use an unmanned balloon which would gradually deflate after she had jumped and drift back to earth.

  As always the adulation of the crowd was obvious in the upturned faces but today Sarah was scarcely aware of it. In her mind’s eye she could see only one face – Eric’s – white with shock and disbelief when she had told him earlier that she could not marry him.

  ‘I am so sorry, Eric,’ she had said wretchedly. ‘But you did know I didn’t love you. I never pretended otherwise.’

  ‘It’s true you didn’t,’ he agreed, ‘but that didn’t stop me hoping, Sarah.’ He paused then asked tautly: ‘Is there someone else?’