The Flyer

by Stuart Harrison

  William thought of Elizabeth and how they’d parted. He was torn. He wanted to see her again, but he didn’t know if she would agree to come. ‘Have you asked Elizabeth already?’ he said.

  ‘No, I only spoke to Harry this afternoon. Besides, I thought you’d like to ask her yourself. How did the pair of you get on the other day? I thought you were both a bit quiet actually. Everything’s alright isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, fine,’ William answered vaguely. Christopher seemed oblivious to the way Elizabeth felt about him, he thought. He wondered if it had always been like that. Had Elizabeth always been waiting in the wings while he went out with different girls, always hoping that one day he would see her, not as his childhood friend, but a young woman in her own right?

  ‘There’s a telephone at her house. I’ll give you the number,’ Christopher offered.

  ‘Yes, alright.’

  William waited until after dinner before he telephoned and asked the operator to put him through. The man who answered said that he would see if Miss Gordon was available.

  ‘Who may I say is calling, sir?’

  ‘William Reynolds.’ He waited while his message was delivered. His heart was beating faster than normal and he felt nervous. He decided that being in love could be unpleasant.

  ‘Hello? William is that you?’ Elizabeth asked when she finally answered.

  ‘Yes, it’s me. How are you?’

  ‘I’m fine, thanks. What have you been doing?’

  ‘Oh nothing much, other than working on the plane,’ he said. They spoke for a few minutes like that, exchanging meaningless chat while he tried to discern from the sound of her voice if she was pleased to hear from him. In the end he gave up and simply told her about the dance. ‘Christopher thought we might all go together.’

  She hesitated briefly before she replied. ‘Yes, of course, that sounds wonderful.’

  ‘Good. We’ll see you on Friday then.’

  ‘Yes, goodbye.’

  He replaced the receiver. She had been friendly enough, he thought, but there was a distinct awkwardness between them now and he wished he’d never blurted out his feelings to her the way he had.

  On Friday they went in Christopher’s car, driving along the lanes and roads in the fading copper light of evening. William had borrowed evening clothes from Christopher, while Sophie was stunning in an elegant dress of mauve silk that, with her dark hair and olive complexion, lent her beauty a kind of arresting and exotic touch. By contrast, Elizabeth wore a simple pale dress with a pattern of black panels set off by a string of pearls around her neck. It was as if she had deliberately chosen not to attempt to compete with Sophie, and yet to William, Elizabeth was the more striking of the two. Sophie made him think of the lushness of the tropics, of brightly hued orchids, while he likened Elizabeth to a single pale rose or perhaps a lily.

  When they arrived at the hotel there were motors parked on both sides of the road outside. Every window was lit and the jangling notes of a rag-time tune tumbled into the evening air. People were standing outside, chatting and smoking cigarettes. Inside, the place was packed. It was a young crowd, everybody drinking and dancing to the band.

  ‘Harry Thwaites is around somewhere,’ Christopher said, speaking over the sound of voices and the music. ‘Hang on here a minute while I go and find him.’ When he returned he led them to a table where half a dozen people were already sitting.

  ‘Come and meet Harry,’ he said to Sophie and introduced her to a short, slightly overweight man with a thick head of softly curling glossy black hair like a cocker spaniel’s.

  Harry Thwaites got up from his seat. His face was flushed and his eyes glassy from drink. ‘I say, I’m jolly pleased to meet you. Christopher told me you were a beauty, but I think he did you an injustice. Here, I insist you sit beside me.’

  ‘Don’t mind him,’ Christopher said, though he was smiling.

  ‘Do you like to dance?’ Harry asked her.

  ‘I love dancing,’ Sophie said.

  ‘In that case I bags the first one.’ He poured her a glass of champagne. ‘I hope you like champagne too.’

  ‘Of course, who doesn’t like champagne?’

  He laughed. ‘Oh yes, Sophie, I can see we’re going to get on famously, my dear.’

  Elizabeth already knew everyone at the table, and she introduced William to them, though he couldn’t remember all of their names. A couple at the end were called Marian and Edward, and were over from Shropshire for the weekend, while the young woman he sat next to was called Emily something or other. She took out a cigarette, and when William lit it for her she asked if he had known Elizabeth for long.

  ‘No, not long at all actually.’

  ‘William helped Christopher fix his plane after he crashed it,’ Elizabeth said.

  ‘Are you an aviator too then, Mister Reynolds?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so.’

  ‘You must have been at Sywell when that frightful accident happened. Gosh, wasn’t it absolutely awful? Poor Nigel.’ She shivered at the memory, and took a large drink from her glass, and then turned to the man next to her. ‘Did you hear that, Hugh? Mr Reynolds is an aviator.’

  ‘I say, are you really? I’ve been thinking I ought to have a go at flying myself actually,’ the man said.

  ‘Oh, I hope you don’t!’ Emily said. ‘We’ve already lost Nigel. In fact it’s lucky that Christopher wasn’t killed too. ‘

  ‘It was William who pulled Christopher out of his machine,’ Elizabeth said.

  The young woman’s eyes opened even wider. ‘How exciting! Hugh, this is the chap who saved Christopher’s life!’

  Though William protested, the young woman paid no attention, and now everybody at the table was listening and he found himself the centre of attention.

  ‘Do you live in Northampton?’ Emily asked.

  ‘Actually I’m staying with Christopher at the moment,’ he said.

  ‘But you come from Northampton don’t you? You’re not related to Caroline Reynolds by any chance?’

  ‘I’m afraid not.’

  ‘There’s no use asking William anything,’ Elizabeth said. ‘He won’t tell you. He rather enjoys being mysterious, I think.’

  ‘The truth is I’m embarrassed that there’s so little to tell,’ he said. He was relieved when the band took their positions again and began to play another tune. He noticed Sophie looking at him, something indecipherable in her expression, and then she emptied her champagne and took Harry Thwaites by the hand.

  ‘I love this one. Come on Harry, you can dance with me now.’

  As she dragged him off, Harry went willingly enough, though he looked back at the others with a comical, helpless expression, his eyes like an owls’ behind his round spectacles. They soon attracted the attention of half the room, or at least Sophie did. The combination of champagne and the heat brought a flush to her face, and when Harry said something to her she threw back her head and laughed.

  There was something about her that was raw and visceral, and at the same time innately sensuous. William glanced at Christopher who was watching her proudly, one arm languidly draped over the back of his chair. Now and then Sophie would look over and they would smile at one another, and throughout the evening William noticed that no matter who Sophie danced with she did this. He saw there was a bond between them that surprised him, because it had developed so quickly. He thought of Elizabeth’s warning that Christopher didn’t take things seriously, and wondered if in Sophie’s case, what Elizabeth was truly afraid of was the exact opposite.

  At one point, when Christopher and Sophie were dancing together, William overheard a thin, rather cool looking woman ask Elizabeth who Sophie was.

  ‘She works in a solicitor’s office in town, I think.’

  The woman raised a disdainful eyebrow. ‘I didn’t think she could be one of us.’

  ‘Oh, don’t be such a dreadful snob, Hilary,’ Harry Thwaites said. ‘She’s a marvellous dancer, not to mention an absolute
cracker.’

  ‘What do you think, Mister Reynolds?’ the woman asked.

  ‘I doubt that you’d be interested in what I think,’ William said, and with a tight smile he excused himself and got up from the table. As he crossed the floor, the music ended and somebody grabbed his arm.

  ‘You haven’t asked me to dance,’ Sophie said.

  ‘I haven’t had a chance, everybody keeps getting to you before me.’

  ‘Well, you can take my place,’ Christopher said. ‘I could do with a drink.’

  ‘But only if you want to,’ Sophie added.

  ‘Of course, I’d love to.’

  The band started to play another tune and William put his hand on her waist. ‘I’m not much of a dancer, I’m afraid.’ He was conscious of his old injury, and Sophie seemed to sense it because she looked down at his feet.

  ‘Have you hurt yourself?’

  ‘No. I was injured when I was young, and sometimes it bothers me, but I think it’s really up here.’ He tapped a finger to his temple.

  ‘You’re sure it isn’t because you don’t want to dance with me?’

  ‘Why would you think that?’

  Sophie smiled, but didn’t answer him. ‘You have to listen to the music and relax. That’s better.’

  They danced in silence for a little while. William wondered if the thin woman was watching them and asking who he was now. He glanced towards the table, but she wasn’t there anymore.

  ‘Have you seen Arthur lately?’ Sophie asked, unexpectedly.

  ‘I went to the garage the other day, actually,’ he said guessing that Christopher must have said something to her.

  ‘How is he?’

  ‘He seems alright. The garage was busy. Although he’s been neglecting the books a bit.’

  ‘Hasn’t he got somebody to help him yet? I told him he should.’

  ‘Did you?’ he asked in surprise.

  ‘Yes. Why do you look at me like that?’

  ‘I don’t know. It’s just that Arthur mentioned something about you helping him, that’s all.’

  ‘I might’ve said I would to begin with, but I decided not to. I told him after the airshow. It would only have given him the wrong idea and I didn’t want to encourage him.’

  William wondered if Sophie’s attitude would be different if she hadn’t met Christopher, but he knew he was being unfair. He caught her watching him, and had the uncomfortable feeling that she knew what he was thinking. He was relieved when the tune ended and Christopher cut in on him again. He went outside for some air and lingered on the edge of a group of people who had the same idea.

  ‘It’s terribly hot in there, isn’t it?’

  He turned around to find that Elizabeth had followed him outside. ‘Yes, it is.’

  A man said hello to her and she spoke to him briefly, and when he went back inside she asked William if he wanted to go for a walk.

  ‘Emily was quite taken with you after she discovered you’re an aviator,’ Elizabeth said. ‘She thinks you’re terribly dishy. She wanted to know all about you.’

  ‘What did you tell her?’

  ‘I told her that you’re the enigmatic type. Of course that only made her even more curious.’

  ‘Like your other friend who wanted to know about Sophie.’

  ‘You mean Hilary? She’s not a friend of mine. You shouldn’t worry about her.’

  They walked on in silence for a few moments until they came to a gate. The moon was in its first phase. The air was fragrant with the scent of burdock and rosehip growing in the hedgerow.

  ‘Is it really true what you said the other day about being in love with me?’ Elizabeth asked suddenly, facing him.

  ‘Yes, I’m afraid I am.’

  ‘Why are you afraid?’

  ‘Because I know you don’t feel the same way.’

  ‘I didn’t say that.’

  She had spoken so quietly, turning her face away from him that he wasn’t sure he’d heard her properly. It was almost as if she was speaking to herself.

  ‘What I actually said was, that I wish you weren’t in love with me.’

  ‘Isn’t that the same thing?’

  ‘Not necessarily. You also accused me of being in love with Christopher.’

  ‘Are you?’

  ‘I want to try and explain something to you about us,’ Elizabeth said. ‘You know that Christopher and I have known each other since we were quite young. I was especially young. I had a crush on him then. Of course it was inevitable. A young and impressionable girl, the dashing older boy. But of course eventually Christopher wasn’t a boy anymore, and he started going around with a girl of his own age, and I was heartbroken. I cried my heart out. I was convinced I couldn’t live any longer.’ She laughed wryly. ‘Just the sort of dramatic, highly emotional rubbish you’d expect really. I thought I was in love, you see. Have you ever felt like that?’

  ‘Not quite like that.’ William thought of Emmaline.

  ‘But there was someone when you were young?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’d like you to tell me about her one day. But for now, just tell me this: if she were here now, if she just appeared out of the hotel and came towards us, how do you think you would feel?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said, though he could see what Elizabeth was getting at.

  ‘But you’d feel something?’

  ‘Something, yes. Are you telling me that’s how you feel about Christopher?’

  ‘I’m telling you that Christopher has never been out of my life, and we were friends long before any complicated adult feelings cropped up. It’s just that I find it difficult to separate my feelings. I’ve always found it difficult, especially when I see him with some other girl. But this time it’s much worse.’

  ‘Why? Is Sophie so different from the others?’

  ‘Yes, I think she is, actually. You only have to see the way men look at her to know that. But that isn’t what I mean. It’s worse because of you.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘I said that I wish you weren’t in love with me,’ Elizabeth explained. ‘But what I really meant is that I wish you hadn’t told me, because it made me confront the things I’ve been trying to ignore. Things I wasn’t sure I wanted to feel. About you - not Christopher.’

  ‘Are you saying you…’ he hesitated, not sure what word to use.

  ‘I’m saying I care for you more than anybody I’ve ever met, except for Christopher. And what I feel for you is different from the way I feel about him. I’ve never experienced anything like this before. Perhaps a part of me has always felt that I was in love with Christopher, but this has made me realise that feeling was only a kind of leftover from when I was younger. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?’

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘It’s just that letting go of things that you’ve always believed isn’t easy. I know it might sound silly, but the only analogy I can think of is when a child first discovers there really isn’t any such person as Father Christmas. At first, you don’t want to accept it.’

  Elizabeth looked at William, her eyes swimming in confusion, and he didn’t know what to say or what she wanted him to say. He only knew that half an hour earlier he wouldn’t have dared dream any of this.

  He knew that if he kissed her she would let him, that she wanted him to. She both did and didn’t. He bent towards her and she turned her face up to him, her eyes closed.

  *****

  It was three in the morning before the band played their final number, and then as people began to leave, Christopher took William aside and gave him the key to his car.

  ‘Listen old man, would you mind awfully driving Liz home?’ he asked.

  ‘No of course not. But what about you and Sophie?’

  ‘Actually, I’ve arranged a room for us here for the night.’

  William was surprised, though he didn’t know why he should be. They went back to the table and Christopher told Elizabeth about the arrang
ement. For just an instant she was taken aback, but then she recovered and kissed Sophie’s cheek.

  ‘Well, goodnight then.’

  ‘Goodnight.’

  As they were leaving, William remembered the bill. He had been dreading it all night. Their table had consumed more than half a dozen bottles of champagne not to mention the late supper they’d been served.

  ‘What do I owe you?’ he said taking out his wallet but Christopher made a casual gesture.

  ‘Oh, don’t worry about that. Harry and I sorted it out earlier.’

  ‘I’d prefer to pay my share.’

  Christopher hesitated. ‘Yes, alright then. A couple of pounds ought to do.’

  As William gave him the money he realised that he should have considered the cost earlier. Two pounds was, to him, a vastly extravagant amount to spend on an evening out. ‘How will you get back tomorrow?’ he asked. ‘Do you want me to pick you up?’

  ‘No need to do that. Get Hedges to drive over. And if anyone asks where I am just say I went on somewhere with Harry.’

  ‘Yes, alright.’

  When he went outside, William started the car and waited for Elizabeth, who had gone to fetch her coat from the cloakroom. When she appeared she climbed in beside him and they set off, following the lights of other cars going the same way. William glanced at Elizabeth, wondering if she was thinking about Christopher and Sophie.

  ‘Can I ask you something?’ she said.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Have you been to bed with very many girls?’

  He was taken aback by such a direct question. ‘Only one.’

  ‘Was it the girl you thought you were in love with?’

  ‘No, that was a long time ago, when I was at Oundle.’

  ‘Who was she then, this other girl?’

  ‘Just somebody I knew.’

  ‘Were you in love with her?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I expect you think I’m being nosy. You don’t have to tell me.’

  ‘It’s alright. It was several years ago. Before I had the garage. I don’t think about it anymore.’

  ‘Your secret past,’ she murmured.