She ripped the waxed paper lid from the jug, dropped a straw into it, and handed it to Mrs Hemingway, who took it gingerly. She studied the idle ripples in the jug for a moment and then sucked on the straw. Under the force of the suction the water responded normally and she received a mouthful.
Sellie dug out another jug and went forward to Harry. She put in the remaining two straws and drank through one. She leaned on the rail.
And then said “Oh.”
Ahead of them there was a cloud hanging in the air, a grey miasma that grew like a sickly tower above where their house ought to be. Knowing that their home was gone, even having seen it, did not prepare her for the approach. For so many years the building had stood atop the small hill and had been there to greet them when they came home.
Now it was not. Only a dusty ruin remained.
xx
Harry did not slow down. Her heart was full of despair and pain. It was not that she had many precious belongings that had been lost in their home’s collapse—the Pegasus was the only thing that would break her heart to lose.
But home was still home, and hers was no more.
Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision. Angrily she brushed them away. She had no time for tears, and they would impair her ability to fly.
She did not try to hide their approach as they shot across the ruin. A group of men stood beneath the trees at one side. Some of the staff were moving between there and the part that remained standing.
No Germans in sight.
At the speed they were going, Harry could not see whether her father was in the group.
She did not want to stop; if he was not there, she wanted to keep flying until she found him. But she knew that was foolish. How could she find him if she did not know where to look? And perhaps he was down there.
Though, in her heart, she knew he was not.
She brought the Pegasus around to a fast but light landing. She flipped off the Faraday and found Sellie pushing one of Johannes’s jugs into her hand.
“No time for that.”
“Drink it, Harry,” said Sellie. “Take a deep breath and drink. You need it.”
The men who had been under the tree were heading across the grass towards them.
Harry did as she was told. The deep breath helped. Her hand and arm muscles ached from gripping the controls for so long. Now that she had stopped she could feel the sweat sliding uncomfortably down her back.
She used the straw even though the Faraday was off. The cool water slipped down her throat. She had not realised how thirsty she was, and hunger grew in her stomach. She checked the time. It was five-thirty. They had another hour and a half of light.
“Anything to eat?” she said.
* * *
Out on the lawn, standing in the shade provided by the Pegasus, with the ruin on the hill, the six remaining members of the original deputation explained what had happened after the girls’ precipitous departure.
The Germans had been at a loss at first. The captain and the one in charge of the ground troops had gone into the airship for about twenty minutes, after which the Hauptman had been summarily ejected from the Zeppelin with his men and the ship had simply left.
There remained about twenty of them. After some discussion they had appropriated the cars and driven away with the admiral and Jonathan Edgbaston. The Hauptman had left a letter for Harry and Sellie.
The letter was hastily written and not entirely grammatical but the gist was clear: Do not pursue, and the prisoners will be freed once the Germans had reached a safe haven.
Harry crumpled the letter.
“I hadn’t finished reading it,” said Sellie over her shoulder.
Lt Cmdr Laxton had taken charge of the group now the admiral was gone. He took the letter from her and looked at it. “Can you translate it?” he asked Harry, but she wasn’t listening.
“I can,” said Sellie.
Harry turned away from the group and went to stand at the front of the Pegasus. She placed her hand on the glass and stared towards the horizon. She knew what her father would want. He would want her safe. But did she believe what the Hauptman had said in his letter? He was scared. Scared of her and Sellie.
That was strange.
She understood people disliking her, and she had had plenty of them being angry with her, including her father. But the idea that someone could be scared of her?
What did that mean? If he was scared enough to arrange a mission to … To what? Why did he come here at all?
“Penny for your thoughts,” said Sellie. “Here, have something to eat.” She put a heavy crusted pie into Harry’s hand. She took it but just held it.
“Why did he come here, Sellie?” she said. “Why did he risk everything to come here? What was he trying to achieve?”
“Eat your pie,” said her sister. “I’ll talk.”
Harry chose a place to start and bit into the pastry. It was thick but the inside was juicy with meat gravy.
“You’re lucky, Harry. You’re white. You belong to the people in charge.”
“I didn’t choose it,” she said with her mouth full.
“I know and I’m not blaming you. I’m lucky in some ways; I got to be your sister and that doesn’t happen much to people like me. Look, Harry, I’m going to tell you something and it’s really important you don’t fly off the handle.”
Harry swallowed. “I won’t.”
“This is serious. You’re going to get upset and I don’t want you doing anything silly.”
Sellie glanced around. “In fact, let’s go inside.”
Harry had just taken another big bite and was unable to respond. She followed Sellie to the hatch of the Pegasus.
“Where are you going?” Mrs Hemingway’s voice pierced the air.
“Nowhere,” said Sellie. “We just need a private chat. I’ll leave the hatch open just to prove it.”
Their tutor said nothing more, so they climbed in.
Harry polished off the last remnants of the pie and pulled another jug of water from the cold box.
“Let’s sit down,” said Sellie.
They did so but Harry was getting impatient. “Come on, Sellie, spit it out.”
“All right, Harry,” said Sellie. “Don’t rush me, I promised myself I’d never tell you.”
Harry frowned. “Never tell me what?”
“Harry! Just shut up and let me say it.”
Sellie waited but Harry remained silent. Sellie took a deep breath and tried to marshal her thoughts. “You remember Joseph the butler?”
Her sister simply nodded, making the point that she was not saying anything. Sellie looked at her hands, her skin the same colour as Joseph’s.
“You know he was always short with me,” she said. “Did you ever wonder why?”
Harry hesitated then shook her head as if it had never even occurred to her to think about it.
“Because he hated me, Harry.” Sellie’s eyes burned with tears. She rubbed them. “He used to kick me when no one was looking.” Harry’s eyes widened, Sellie touched her finger to her lips to make sure she stayed quiet.
“Did you really think I was so clumsy, Harry, that I was always spilling food and drink on me?” she said, upset from the thousand times no one had questioned it. Harry stopped chewing.
“He would do it, or get one of the maids to do it. Drop stuff on me. Then Mrs Hemingway would notice.”
Harry found her voice though it was no more than a whisper. “Did Mrs Hemingway know?”
Sellie shook her head. “I don’t know. Doesn’t matter whether she knew or not, you know what pleasure she took in criticising me.”
“But why?”
“Because I was better than him—that’s what he thought anyway. Women aren’t supposed to be like us, Harry,” said Sellie. “I think we make some men…scared.”
“So he was just a bully?”
“‘Just a bully’, Harry? There was no ‘just’ about it.” It was years, Harry, h
e did it for years.
Sellie wiped the tears from her cheeks.
“I’m so sorry.” Harry rubbed her eyes. “If I’d known…”
“What? Told Dad?”
“Yes.”
“And he would have spoken to Joseph and he would have denied it.”
Harry went silent. “I’m so sorry.”
Sellie smiled through her tears and put her hand on her sister’s knee. “Doesn’t matter now, he’s been gone a long time and we can deal with the cow.” She nodded her head in the direction of Mrs Hemingway.
“So you’re saying we scare Hauptman Gerhardt.”
Sellie nodded. “We’re heretics in his world. You know what they used to do with heretics.”
Harry stood up and threw the remains of her pie out of the hatch. She held out her hand and helped Sellie to her feet. They put their arms around one another in a tight hug.
When Sellie finally pulled back she saw that Harry wearing a malicious grin.
“Well,” she said. “Perhaps we better finish the job.”
xxi
“You are not leaving,” said Mrs Hemingway firmly. “In the absence of your father I am in loco parentis. You are not of age so you will do precisely as you are told.”
Harry had to look up to Mrs Hemingway. But while their tutor might be imposing, Harry was not daunted.
“You can’t stop me.”
Harry glanced at the sun, there was not much daylight remaining.
“I do not need to, these gentlemen will do so.” She indicated the remaining uniformed men, who were following the orders of Lieutenant Commander Laxton.
“Mrs Hemingway is correct, we cannot allow you to fly.”
Harry felt the anger growing in her again. She pushed it down. “Why would you take an interest?”
“Miss Edgbaston, apart from the obvious fact that you have no idea where the Germans have taken your father”—unlike Mrs Hemingway’s, his voice was not tinged with condescension—“we are also keen to recover the admiral. It will not look good on our records to have lost one.” He smiled.
She softened towards him a little. He was not like her at all.
“There is not much daylight left and trying to find them in the dark is even more ridiculous than trying to find them in daylight.”
“Quite so,” said Mrs Hemingway.
“So we will see what intelligence can be gathered during the night and will set off at first light,” he said. “I hope that will suit you.”
Harry grinned. “Thank you.”
“This is out of the question!” said Mrs Hemingway, though her tone suggested that she was now uncertain, having lost the ally she thought she had.
“On the contrary, madam,” said Lt Cmdr Laxton. “It is the only sensible solution. We are stuck here and there is insufficient time for any official transport to reach us.” He paused and glanced at the Pegasus reflecting the light of the setting sun. “Considering the distance this vehicle travelled in such a short time, I believe it is our best option as it combines high speed with the ability to land on any terrain.”
“Sellie’s the engineer,” said Harry, glowing at the praise being heaped on her ship. “She’s the miracle worker.”
“Your companion?”
Harry’s good humour vanished. “She is my sister.”
“Adopted,” said Mrs Hemingway.
“I do apologise, Miss Edgbaston and,” he looked at Sellie, nodding his head, “Miss Edgbaston.”
“Apology accepted,” said Sellie, a little hoarsely.
“Lieutenant Keating here”—the other naval officer nodded at Sellie—“he came up on the engineering side, I’m sure he would be interested in your vessel.”
“Um,” said Sellie. She looked embarrassed when all eyes turned in her direction. “I was thinking, about the intelligence?”
“Yes, Miss Edgbaston?” said Laxton.
“Well, local people will have seen the horseless carriages leaving. We could send out some people to find out where they went.”
Laxton smiled. “An excellent proposition.”
He strode away to where the two army majors stood and spoke to them. They in their turn moved in the direction of the staff quarters. Laxton returned; he did not walk slowly but seemed always to be marching to some beat Harry could not hear.
“Mrs Hemingway,” he said.
“I am not happy with this,” she said.
“I understand and that is why I feel it is important for you to accompany us in the morning. It would not be proper for the young ladies to be without a chaperone. I’m sure you understand.”
“Yes,” she said weakly.
“Good, now I think if you ladies occupy the summer house for the night and we will make do,” he said. “It will be rather more of a problem for the … ah … bureaucrats than for the military.”
“Sellie and I will sleep in the Pegasus,” said Harry. “But I’m sure one of the more senior female staff will give up her room for Mrs Hemingway.”
Their tutor looked horrified.
“Leaving us with the summer house. Excellent,” said Laxton. “We will make it so, if you’re sure you’ll be comfortable in your vessel.”
“Done it lots of times,” said Harry.
Laxton nodded, and made it so.
* * *
A rapping on the hull jerked Harry awake. She groaned and opened her eyes.
“Rise and shine, ladies. It is oh-six hundred hours. We go light in forty-five minutes.”
Harry groaned again.
“Welcome to the Royal Navy,” muttered Sellie. “I don’t think I’ll pursue a career in the Senior Service.”
“Any service,” said Harry rolling onto her back and pushing herself up on her elbows.
“I’m guessing they’re both like this.”
“What are we going to wear, Harry?” said Sellie. “Yesterday’s are torn and filthy.”
There was another knock. “Commander Laxton’s compliments,” said a younger voice. “He thought you might require suitable attire for the day.”
Sellie looked at Harry. “I like this Laxton fellow, he’s sensitive to a lady’s needs.”
“Just being practical, who’d want to be seen around a pair of scarecrows?”
“Just a minute!” called Sellie. Both of them were dressed in their underclothes. Sellie had unscrewed a panel from the wall and used it as a screen to hide the interior of the ship. She looked at her dress. Yesterday morning it had been a bright yellow but no longer. She grabbed it and held it in front of herself. “This will do.”
She went to the hatch and then looked over at Harry, her arms and legs completely bare and her hair a disaster, standing directly across from the door. “I’m going to open this door,” she said.
Harry seemed deep in thought and didn’t respond.
Sellie tried again. “Is it your intention to display your nether limbs to the officer outside this door?”
Nothing.
“Harry!”
Her head jerked up. “What?”
“Get out of the way! I’m opening the hatch.”
Harry hurried across the deck into a position where she would not be seen. Sellie unlocked the door and pushed it open a few inches. “Just squeeze them through.”
“I have my eyes averted,” said the officer. Sellie caught a glimpse of the khaki uniform of one of the majors as he pushed some coarse looking dark brown material through the gap.
“Thanks, Major Page” said Sellie.
“Thresher, Miss,” he said without rancour. “The other one.”
“Thanks.”
She shut the door and the sisters pounced on the clothes.
“Oh,” said Sellie.
Harry eyed the clothing with distaste. “Farm workers’ overalls,” she said. There were some shirts to go with them.
“Well,” said Sellie. “They’re practical.”
Harry pulled a face.
Sellie dropped her arms, letting the fabric drag on the floo
r. “I thought you were the one who was always complaining about flying in a dress and how much more convenient it would be to wear trousers.”
“I know, but …” she trailed off.
“Farm workers’ overalls not good enough for you?”
Harry bit her lip.
“All right for the blacks to wear, but not next to your precious pale and freckly skin?”
Harry’s freckles were not limited to her face, as Sellie knew but most of the rest of the world did not. Thankfully.
“Better make the best of it, Harry,” said Sellie. “It’s all we’ve got and we have just wasted ten minutes of our limited time. Commander Laxton might be thoughtful in one respect but there’ll be hell to pay if we’re not ready to lift at the appointed minute.”
They got changed. Everything was too big but at least it was clean. Harry cut up the dresses and plaited strips of material into belts while Sellie got the furnace running up to heat.
They still had water in the cold store and plenty of food, which they ate as they worked.
Harry opened the hatch and let the cold dawn air circulate through, clearing out the smells. They tidied up.
It was oh-six hundred hours and forty minutes when Lieutenant Commander Laxton and Lieutenant Keating with Majors Thresher and Page came down the lawn to the Pegasus. They looked clean and their uniforms fresh. Harry was envious. They were accompanied by Mrs Hemingway. Harry stood in the hatchway. Smoke drifted from the stack.
“Permission to come aboard, Miss Edgbaston?” said Laxton.
xxii
Feeling somewhat awkward in her manly clothing—the roughness of the material wrapped around her legs was distracting—Harry climbed into the pilot’s chair. Commander Laxton and the other men took up positions along the rail. Mrs Hemingway sat in the chair, after giving Harry a curious look that could have been either satisfaction at seeing her in such embarrassing clothing, or possibly pity.
“Did you find out where we need to go?” asked Harry, turning in the chair so she could look at Laxton.
He smiled. “We found something,” he said. “You know the station?”
Harry gets Her Wings (Iron Pegasus Book 3) Page 8