"Good afternoon, Miss Prentiss. It was good of you to come and see me."
"I didn't have much choice," she said coldly. "You're my employer."
For a moment he looked taken aback, then he regained his composure and sat down behind his desk. Flicking open a silver box, he offered her a cigarette but she shook her head and he took one himself and lit it.
"I'm sorry you still hate me," he said quietly.
This time it was Laura who lost her composure, but she regained it as quickly as he had. "You're flattering yourself, Mr. Dimar. I have no feeling of any kind towards you."
"Yes you have," he said calmly. "You wouldn't be human if you didn't hate me. But believe me, Miss Prentiss, I'm not such an ogre as you think. One day you'll see I was right to forbid Andreas to marry you. You would never have been happy with him. He is a boy, young for his years, who has always had everything he wanted, and you're a woman who has had to make her own way in the world. He would have bored you within a year."
"I hope you're not asking me to believe that you acted the way you did out of any concern for my happiness? You were only interested in what you wanted."
"Naturally. And I knew that for Andreas to marry you would be fatal from the family's point of view."
"Thank you for being so truthful," she said sarcastically. "At least I'm grateful to you for showing me what a spineless coward Andreas really is."
"You must not judge him too harshly," he replied. "No Greek girl would think any the worse of Andreas for listening to me."
"Then thank heavens I'm English!" Laura flared.
He smiled. "You don't fit in with my conception of an Englishwoman. There's too much of the spitfire about you—too much of what I should call the Latin temperament."
She bit her lip. "I'd rather we didn't discuss me, Mr. Dimar. Will you please tell me why you asked me to come here?"
He stubbed out his cigarette and pushing back his chair, went to stand by the window. "You know already that I have taken control of Bantock, and in view of all the circumstances I think it would be better if you resigned."
Laura stared at him wordlessly. Throughout the morning she and Celia had tried to discuss why he had asked to see her but never had either of them dreamed it was to give her the sack.
"Please don't think this is any reflection on your work," he continued smoothly. "From all reports I have had of you, you are a first class stewardess and I will see that you get another position with a different airline. The only reason I want you to leave Bantock is because I am putting Andreas in charge of it and this could make things rather—rather embarrassing for both of you."
"You needn't go on, Mr. Dimar." Laura stood up. "I'm surprised you thought it necessary to see me to tell me this. A letter from your company would have been quite sufficient."
"I thought it politer to tell you myself. You have already suffered enough from my family, Miss Prentiss."
"Save your sympathy," she said shortly. "In any case, I had already made up my mind to resign. I'd rather starve than work for any concern of which you had control!"
Before he could reply she walked from the room and for a moment he stood looking after her, exasperation and, unaccountably, admiration flickering across his face. Suddenly the telephone rang and he picked it up and spoke in Greek. It was business and as he continued to talk he forgot about everything else.
Laura sent in her official resignation that night. It was a bitter letter to write, and remembering the thrill she had had when she had put on the dark green Bantock uniform for the first time, she knew a deep sense of despondency.
"Don't take it to heart," Celia consoled. "You'll get fixed up pretty soon. And you'll probably be glad you've made the change."
Celia was proved right for within a fortnight Laura was working for Transmondial Air Company, or T.M.A., as it was called, and was delighted to find that her duty lay between London and New York.
It was an interesting run and New York with its impersonal, friendly, bustling atmosphere was exactly what she needed to counteract the depression that had been with her ever since her broken engagement. Imperceptibly she acquired a surface sophistication and as one of the other T.M.A. stewardesses said to her: "It's easy to tell the girls who are on the New York run—they always walk with that extra bit of a wiggle. I guess it's due to all the flattery we get from the American male!"
And flattery was certainly something the Americans excelled in. Used to admiration though she was, Laura was taken aback by the deference with which she was treated during her slip-overs in Manhattan. And though the work was hard—twelve hours on duty and longer if they were delayed by bad weather—she was nevertheless happier than she had been for a long time.
The gold of autumn slowly turned to the grey and white of winter and when January arrived in all its bleakness, Laura was still on the New York route.
It was a particularly raw morning when she reported for duty at Idlewild and glancing down at her passenger list, saw the name Nikolaos Dimar. For one wild moment she debated whether to ask for a substitute to take her place; the next, she dismissed it and with as much composure as she could muster, stood at the door of the plane to welcome the passengers aboard. Nikolaos was the last to mount the steps and was at the top before he recognised her. For a second he stood still, then with a short nod passed in front of her to his seat.
Mr. Mcintosh, the Chief Steward, closed the door. "Will you give the briefing speech, Miss Prentiss?"
"Of course." She walked to the front of the aircraft and with only a faint tremor in her voice, welcomed the passengers aboard, told them what their altitude would be and what they could expect in the way of weather.
"We'll be flying at twenty thousand feet for most of the journey. We expect some rough weather conditions for the first hour but hope to fly out of it by midnight.
Would you please keep your seat belts fastened and we'll tell you as soon as you may take them off."
Only when dinner was served did Lama come into direct contact with Nikolaos Dimar, but he merely nodded as she set the tray in front of him, not even bothering to lift his eyes from the batch of documents in his hand. In the galley she poured herself a cup of coffee and gulped it down.
Mr. Mcintosh looked at her. "Do you feel all right, Miss Prentiss?"
"Yes thanks. Just a bit of a headache." The plane dropped and she steadied herself against the wash board. "Seems pretty bumpy."
The steward nodded and glanced beyond her into the passenger saloon. "There's a Mrs. Gilderheimer travelling with her baby. It's her first flight and she looked pretty strung up while you were making the briefing speech. We'd better keep an eye on her."
"It would have to be bad weather," Laura sympathised. "I'll go and talk to her."
Mrs. Gilderheimer, a small dark woman with large, moist-looking eyes, was obviously in a state of nerves, but Laura, speaking to her in deliberately matter-of-fact tones, gradually put her at ease, even managing to convince her that she was quite capable of picking up the baby and making it comfortable without dropping it in the aisle.
"I never wanted to fly during the winter," the woman said confidentially. "But my husband's stationed in England and he didn't want me to come over by boat with the baby. It takes five days, you see, and it would have meant my looking after him all by myself, and I haven't been very well."
On and on she chattered until Laura, interpolating sympathetic remarks at the right time, thought she would never stop.
It was only when Mrs. Gilderheimer had finally settled down with a book and Laura turned to go back to the galley that she realised Nikolaos Dimar had been watching her all the time, a faint smile crinkling his eyes. He beckoned to her and she walked over to him.
"You have some fluff from the baby's blanket on the end of your nose," he said gravely.
Scarlet, she rubbed her hand on her face. The fluff fell on to the lapel of his jacket and with an unhurried movement he brushed it off.
"How long have you
been working for T.M.A.?" he asked.
"Ever since you fired me," she retorted. "And I never thought I'd be called on to have you as one of my passengers."
"I'm sure you didn't," he said pleasantly. "However, I like to travel on other lines sometimes—if only to find out how much better Bantock are!"
The plane jerked violently and she was almost flung across his lap.
"Shouldn't you go and sit down?" he asked, steadying her with his hand.
"I can't. I'm on duty." Holding to the back of the seats she walked away.
Slowly the hours passed. The sky was black and the storm showed no signs of abating. The course they were on did not allow them to climb higher than twenty thousand feet and they bumped and rocketed their way over the Atlantic. It was two in the morning when the light above the cockpit flashed on. Mr. Mcintosh was already up front and Laura hurried after him. The main lights were off in the passenger saloon, and muted blue cones cast a ghostly glow over the faces of the sleeping men and women. A few of them were stirring restlessly although she was thankful to notice that Mrs. Gilderheimer and the baby were fast asleep.
Quietly she closed the cockpit door behind her and walked through the crew's sleeping quarters to the front of the plane. The pilot and co-pilot were in their seats, the navigator and wireless operator busy at their desks.
"We're in trouble," Mr. Mcintosh said to her. "The
Captain wants to speak to you."
Laura felt her throat grow dry but she said nothing, waiting for Captain Adams to speak. He swivelled round in his chair and looked at her.
"The two port engines have cut out," he said tersely, "and I don't know how long we can stay up."
"But we're over the sea!" she gasped.
He shrugged. "We're radioing our position. The dinghies will take us all and we've every chance of being picked up before long. Mcintosh will warn the passengers to prepare for a forced landing and you'd better stand by and try to stop any panic. One screamer can set the lot off."
Laura returned to the main cabin and switched on the lights. The passengers sat up and rubbed their eyes, some of them protesting sleepily or muttering under their breath. "What's happened?" someone called. "Is anything wrong?"
Mr. Macintosh held up his hand for silence. "Please be calm, ladies and gendemen," he began. "We're having engine trouble but everything will be all right if you follow my instructions." He went on to explain what was happening and to tell them how to prepare themselves for the crash landing.
To Laura the situation suddenly seemed so fantastic that it no longer bore any resemblance to reality and, now it was unreal, she was no longer afraid. She started to help some of the passengers into their life jackets, warning them not to pull the cord until they were free of the plane. Behind her a woman started to scream. Mrs. Gilderheimer… Quickly Laura ran down the aisle but the woman, seeing her approach, jumped up and ran towards the cockpit. Laura caught her arm and pulled her back. "You can't, go in there."
"I can, I can! The Captain's got to save my baby!"
"Please try to be calm. We're doing all we can. You'll only make things worse if you don't try and control yourself."
"Leave me alone! I've got to see the Captain!" Mrs. Gilderheimer struggled violently and in her arms the baby began to cry. Swiftly Laura took it from her and at the same time a man pushed his way forward, took the screaming woman firmly by the shoulders and half carried, half dragged her back to the seat. It was Nikolaos Dimar and Laura watched in gratitude as he sat down beside Mrs. Gilderheimer and started to talk to her. She did not know what he said but it seemed to have a salutary effect for the woman made no attempt to rise again and instead buried her head in her hands and leaned on his shoulder.
Farther down the aisle the Chief Steward looked across and gave the thumbs up sign to Laura. She returned the gesture and making sure that all the passengers had fastened their safety belts and put on their life jackets, she went to the back of the plane and, still holding the baby in her arms, sat down. Swiftly the plane began to lose height and as they descended the wind screamed past them with the force of a tornado. Faster and faster they dropped, the heaving black sea below them looming ever nearer. Tightening her hold on the baby Laura bent her head forward and braced herself for the impact that would come when they hit the water. Her lips moved silently, with every fibre of her being, she began to pray. "Our Father Which art in Heaven…"
In the next few moments events happened so quickly that Laura could never clearly remember them. The aircraft hit the sea with a terrific booming splash, followed almost instantly by a violent jerk. Then she was struggling to open one of the emergency windows, and still clutching the baby against her breast, began to shepherd the passengers into the dinghies. She had a confused impression of Nikolaos at her side and the next thing she remembered was sitting in one of the dinghies herself, watching the silver plane recede slowly as the waves pulled the fragile boats away.
Shivering, she looked round. The aircraft had only been half full and there were not more than seven other people in the boat beside herself. These included the young mother and baby, the co-pilot, three men passengers and Nikolaos Dimar. Mrs. Gilderheimer lay in the bottom of the boat moaning faintly and Nikolaos, who was beside her, moved cautiously forward until he was sitting next to Laura.
"She's going to give us more trouble than all the rest of them put together," he said.
Laura noted his use of the word "us" but made no comment.
"Do you know how to cope with hysterical women?" he asked.
She gave a shaky laugh. "I've never had to do so till now." In her arms the baby stirred and she glanced down at it. "He hasn't turned a hair. You'd think he'd been used to plane crashes all his little life!"
The man beside her leaned forward and one large hand, almost the size of the baby's head, reached up and pulled down the blanket. The baby moved and dark blue eyes stared into dark brown ones. Laura felt a trickle of tears on her cheeks and quickly turned her head, but not before the man had seen them.
"Why are you crying?" he asked.
"I don't know." Yet she did know, for there had been something unutterably touching in the sight of the man and the baby looking at one another so intently. "It must be reaction," she said shakily. "Ever since I became a stewardess I wondered whether I'd lose my nerve in an emergency. It's a fear most of us have and we never overcome it until we're actually put to the test."
"Well, you've been put to the test," he said quietly, "and you've nothing to worry about."
Behind them a man groaned and Nikolaos crawled over to him. It was the co-pilot, his face white, his eyes closed. Laura thrust the baby into its mother's arms and groped her way to his side, desperately trying to remember all she had learned at her first aid lectures.
"It looks like concussion," she said. "There's nothing we can do except keep him as warm and quiet as we can."
Beneath them the boat rocked in the turbulent water and the wind whistled against the awning, flapping the canvas. Laura's hair blew into her eyes and si;; pushed it back with a grimy hand. Her jacket and skirt, sodden, clung to her body but her hat had long since disappeared.
"I hope to heaven we're picked up soon," Nikolaos said. "Otherwise we'll have a few cases of pneumonia."
"The Captain said he was radioing our position. Air Sea Rescue will start work immediately. We've got our own radios too. Do you know how to work it?"
"I'll have a try. But first what about food?"
"We've got the emergency rations. The dinghy's supposed to hold twenty and there are two pints of war, twenty glucose tablets and four ounces of condensed milk per person. It's enough to last four days."
Nikolaos grinned. "As the dinghy's only a third full we've got enough to last about ten or eleven days. That's very good news."
"Yes, isn't it?" she said dryly. "I can't say that I'm delirious at the idea of eating sixty glucose tablets instead of twenty."
"It won't come to that. I'm sure we'
ll be picked up soon. Meanwhile, let's have a look at the radio."
They moved to the side of the dinghy. "Incidentally, what happens if we sight a ship?" he asked. "Are there any distress signals on board?"
"Yes. and we've also got a heliograph. I've always wanted a chance to work one."
One of the other passengers leaned forward. "What's a heliograph?"
"Its a sort of mirror," Laura explained, "and it reflects the light, rather like a flashing beacon."
"Kid's stuff," the passenger answered. "At least it'll make a good story for my son!"
Slowly the tortuous hours dragged by. Nikolaos was able to work the radio but though he sat beside it and continually sent out signals, the sea round them remained empty of all sign of life.
Gradually the storm abated and as dawn broke the sea grew calmer. The sky was leaden grey, unbroken by any passing plane, as was the horizon by any ship. Even the other dinghies were no longer in sight and Laura wondered how far apart they had drifted.
The co-pilot was still unconscious and Mrs. Gilderheimer sat beside him, moaning slightly. Throughout the night she had been seasick and although she was a little better, she was still too weak to make a fuss. Laura was holding the baby again, marvelling that such a little thing could be so heavy. Wearily she lowered her head on her chest and then felt a hand against her cheek, pulling her head on to a man's shoulder. Without opening her eyes she knew it was Nikolaos Dimar's shoulder but she was too tired to argue and thankfully relaxed against him.
She awoke feeling refreshed and set about passing round the rations. With condensed milk and glucose tablets inside them the passengers began to revive and as Laura watched them tidy themselves, she marvelled at what a wonderfully resilient piece of machinery the human body was. Even Mrs. Gilderheimer, realising that she had survived the terrors of the night, managed to produce a tearful smile.
"That's better," Laura encouraged. "We'll be safe in no time and soon you'll be telling all this to your husband and feeling very proud of yourself."
Laura's words were more confident than her feelings and as the day wore on and night approached again, she wondered how long it would be till they were rescued—or if they would ever be rescued at all! As if sensing that her courage was beginning to ebb, Nikolaos Dimar crouched beside her and caught her hand.
Rachel Lindsay - The Taming of Laura Page 7