The Flyer

by Stuart Harrison

  A few moments later Christopher returned and they went back inside. He had found Morton and sorted out the trouble with the cook, who it turned out was worried about the quality of the venison she had planned to prepare for their dinner.

  ‘So whatever you do, you have to pretend that it’s delicious even if it isn’t,’ he said. ‘She can be very sensitive about her cooking.’

  When Elizabeth arrived they all had another drink. She asked if Christopher had shown Sophie around yet.

  ‘Well, no, there hasn’t been time really,’ Christopher said. ‘I’ll give you a bit of a tour in the morning though if you like,’ he told Sophie.

  ‘Oh it’s no good leaving it to you.’ Elizabeth took Sophie’s arm. ‘You’ll only whisk her around in five minutes flat. Come on Sophie, I’ll show you around now.’

  ‘Alright, but don’t take all night about it. If we’re late for dinner Mrs Peters will be furious.’ When they had gone, Christopher turned to William. ‘I expect she’ll tell Sophie all the family gossip. That’s what really interests them isn’t it? You know, which of my ancestors was in love with his manager’s wife and all that sort of thing.’

  ‘Was one of them in love with his manager’s wife?’

  ‘Yes, actually. It was my great grandfather. His manager was a fellow called Fuller, and when he found out that my grandfather was sniffing around he was absolutely furious. The lady’s name was Eleanor, very beautiful actually. Apparently the old goat was in the habit of sneaking around in the dead of night to peer into her windows, so Fuller set a steel trap in the garden to catch him out. Almost severed my grandfather’s foot.’

  ‘Good lord. What happened?’

  ‘Nothing much, actually. My grandfather wouldn’t sack the fellow because if he did he knew he’d never see Eleanor again. I don’t know why Fuller stayed on under the circumstances, but he did. The rumour is that his wife actually fell for my grandfather in the end, though she refused to leave her husband, and so they managed to get along in some kind of ménage-a-trois. So the story goes anyway. My mother’s the one to ask, she relishes all that sort of thing.’

  ‘Speaking of your mother, when I was talking to Sophie earlier she gave me the impression that she was expecting to meet your mother at some stage.’

  ‘Oh? What did you say?’

  ‘I wasn’t sure what to say, to be honest. Lady Horsham doesn’t know about Sophie, does she?’

  ‘No, of course she doesn’t, and obviously I can’t introduce them.’ Christopher frowned. ‘It’s a bit tricky actually. How do I explain it to Sophie without hurting her feelings? I mean it’s terribly snobbish I suppose, but there it is, there’s not much I can do about it.’

  ‘But surely your mother will find out about Sophie eventually.’

  Christopher looked surprised. ‘Well, of course she will. She may already be aware, for all I know. But that doesn’t mean to say I can introduce them does it?’

  ‘I don’t see why not,’ William said.

  Christopher looked at him oddly. ‘It’s simply out of the question. Don’t misunderstand me; I think Sophie is absolutely wonderful. In fact, between you and me, old man, I think I might be in love with her. I might as well tell you I’ve been looking at a flat in Northampton.’

  ‘A flat? Do you mean you’re going to live there?’

  ‘Not me, Sophie. Of course I’d spend some of my time there. It would be much more pleasant than creeping around all these hotels as we do now. And it would be more like having our own place together, you know. Somewhere homely, where we can relax.’

  What he meant, William realised, was that he intended to keep Sophie as his mistress. ‘Does Sophie know about this?’ he asked.

  ‘About the flat? Yes of course. She’s tremendously excited.’

  ‘That isn’t what I meant,’ William said, unable to keep a note of censure from his tone.

  ‘There’s no need to sound like that, old man,’ Christopher said. ‘Once I’ve explained everything to Sophie properly, she’ll understand.’

  ‘Hadn’t you better tell Elizabeth then?’ William said. ‘Otherwise she might say something inadvertently.’

  ‘Liz? Goodness, I don’t need to worry about that. Liz understands how these things are.’

  ‘Yes, I expect she does,’ William realised.

  Over dinner, and later when they danced and drank until the early hours, Sophie and Christopher behaved lovingly towards one another, and as William observed them he wondered how Christopher could feel as he claimed to, and yet contemplate living the kind of double life he was entertaining. That night, when they finally went to bed, William asked Elizabeth if Sophie had said anything about the flat Christopher had mentioned. They were lying together in the darkness, their bodies still hot and slick from their lovemaking, in a languid state of deep contentment. He felt her stiffen.

  ‘What flat?’ she said.

  He realised she didn’t know about Christopher’s plans, though he couldn’t see any harm in telling her now. He repeated what Christopher had told him, including that he’d said he thought he was in love with Sophie. ‘I thought he must have told you. Do you mind?’

  ‘No of course not,’ she said and kissed him. ‘It was just a surprise that’s all.’

  Though William believed, her he wished he could see her face in the dark. He wondered if he would always be like this; doubting her, harbouring vague suspicions concerning her true feelings for Christopher. It was only jealousy on his part, he thought, though he knew there was nothing for him to be jealous about in reality. As if to affirm it to himself, he pulled her closer and she laid her head against his chest.

  ‘I feel sorry for Sophie, don’t you?’ William said eventually.

  ‘Why?’ Elizabeth sounded genuinely puzzled.

  ‘Because I think she’s in love with Christopher. She doesn’t realise that he wants her to be his mistress.’

  ‘But what else does she expect?’

  ‘I don’t know. Would you be happy if I asked you to be my mistress?’

  Elizabeth was astonished. ‘William, it simply isn’t the same thing. You’re not a viscount for one thing, and I’m not Sophie. If you and I wanted to marry there would be nothing to stop us.’

  He was tempted to argue the point with her, tell her that there was no law preventing Christopher from marrying Sophie either if it was what he wanted. And yet he knew that in a way it was naïve, and he didn’t want an argument. They had never spent the night together and he didn’t want to spoil it.

  He listened to her breathing grow deeper and more even, thinking about what she’d said, that there was nothing to stop them marrying if they wanted to. He tried to imagine what that would be like. If he and Christopher were to win a contract to build aeroplanes for the army they would have to set up a factory somewhere. He would design new aeroplanes, each with a different purpose. A sports machine for the wealthy landowner who wanted to travel to his estates quickly, a plane designed to carry passengers between major cities. Even countries. And not only passengers, but freight and perhaps mail. He imagined the firm becoming ever more successful, perhaps even leading the development of aviation in Britain. He and Elizabeth would be together from the beginning. They might rent a small house somewhere to begin with, and then as they could afford it, perhaps buy something larger, big enough for a family. He found he could quite easily picture himself playing with his children on the lawn while Elizabeth looked on. He supposed it was an idealist sort of vision. No doubt there would be difficulties and life wouldn’t always go smoothly, but what did it matter so long as they loved one another and were happy together?

  Perhaps because his mind was so active with his plans for the future he couldn’t sleep. In the end he got up, and because he didn’t want to wake Elizabeth he thought he’d go downstairs. He closed the bedroom door quietly behind him, and as he went along the corridor he thought he heard something from the direction of Christopher’s room. He stopped and listened, and then he heard it a
gain. It was Christopher. He uttered a sound like a stifled cry. For a moment he thought he’d inadvertently overhead an expression of passionate intimacy, but then he realised that what he’d heard was not passion but anguish. Perhaps even fear.

  He went to Christopher’s room and knocked. ‘Christopher? Are you alright?’

  He heard Sophie’s voice, and then a moment later she opened the door. She was wearing one of Christopher’s dressing gowns, which she held together with one hand, though underneath she appeared to be naked.

  ‘Is everything alright? I thought I heard something.’

  ‘Yes, it’s only a dream.’ She went back to the bed where she sat on the edge and stroked Christopher’s brow. The bedclothes were tangled and he was lying on his back, his body jerking now and then.

  ‘It’s alright, I’m here. It’s just a dream. Shhhh.’ Sophie continued to smooth his brow and gradually Christopher relaxed. He murmured something and his breathing became easier.

  ‘He’ll be alright, now,’ Sophie said, and went with William to the door again. ‘He’s often like this.’

  ‘I had no idea.’ He looked back at Christopher, who was now sleeping peacefully.

  ‘I think it started after that man was killed at the airshow. In the morning he never remembers. Or he pretends not to.’

  ‘Is there anything I can do?’

  ‘No, he’ll be alright now, really. He’ll sleep until morning.’

  ‘Well, goodnight then.’

  ‘Goodnight. And thanks.’

  She closed the door and William went downstairs. In the drawing room he poured a drink. He was struck by the way Sophie had soothed Christopher from his nightmare. How gentle and loving she was. Her voice and her touch seemed to banish his demons.

  When he went back to his room, Elizabeth murmured in her sleep and cuddled up to him and within minutes he fell asleep.

  In the morning Christopher made no mention of the night before and William assumed Sophie hadn’t said anything, so he didn’t either. After breakfast Christopher suggested they ought to take a picnic and go fishing on the estate, though William said that first he needed to drive over to the garage and see Arthur. Since Arthur’s initial difficulties everything seemed to have been sorted out. He’d taken on the wife of the landlord at the pub for a few hours each day to look after his books, and for a while William had received regular cheques in the post. But now Arthur was overdue with his payments again, and William wanted to make sure that everything was alright.

  ‘You haven’t heard from him have you, Sophie?’ he asked, but she shook her head and said she hadn’t. ‘Alright, I’ll be back in an hour.’

  Elizabeth went with him, but when they arrived at the garage they found it closed.

  ‘That’s odd,’ William said. ‘He should be open today. Saturday’s are always busy with cars stopping for petrol. And you can guarantee there’ll be a few breakdowns.’

  ‘Perhaps he’s ill,’ Elizabeth suggested.

  ‘It’s possible I suppose, but he took on a man to help him, so somebody ought to be here.’ He knocked on the locked doors, but there was no sound from within. ‘I’ll just try the pub. Perhaps they might know something.’

  But it was too early for the pub to be open and when William knocked on the door there was no reply, so he had no choice but to leave and try again another day. As they drove back to Pitsford, he worried that something was wrong.

  ‘Are you really that concerned?’ Elizabeth asked.

  ‘Yes. Apart from anything else, I’m relying on Arthur to pay what he owes me.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll be alright.’

  ‘I suppose you’re right,’ he agreed, though for the rest of the weekend it was on his mind.

  On Sunday evening, when Christopher came back after taking Sophie home, he gave William an envelope. ‘I thought I’d drop in on the garage and see if your friend Hawkins was there. He gave me this.’

  ‘You saw him then?’ William tore open the envelope to find a cheque inside and also a hastily scribbled note apologising because it was late. ‘How did he seem to you?’

  ‘Alright, I think. He said he’d had a bad cold for the past few days, which is why he wasn’t open when you went there yesterday. Apparently he heard you, but by the time he got himself out of his sick bed you’d already gone.’

  William was relieved that there was nothing seriously wrong, and the cheque reassured him, but he decided that when he got a chance he’d drive over and see Arthur anyway.

  ‘He’s an odd sort though, isn’t he?’ Christopher remarked. ‘Bit of a surly devil if you ask me.’

  ‘He’s a socialist,’ William said.

  ‘Ah, that would explain it then.’

  But as it turned out William didn’t get a chance to visit Arthur that week, because a few days later the engine arrived from the Gnome factory and they were kept busy getting it fitted and finishing off the rest of the plane.

  CHAPTER 17

  By mid-August the new Gnome engine had been fitted, and during the second half of the month William flew several test flights. After each one he made alterations to the design and by the beginning of September, two weeks before the army trials were due to begin, the biplane was finished.

  For the final test flight they chose a clear morning when the end of summer could be felt in the cooler air, a day reminiscent of apples ripened in orchards almost ready to be picked.

  ‘We should both go up today,’ William said as he and Christopher pushed the plane out onto the grass. The army had published a list of criteria covering rate of climb, speed, range and a host of other factors they intended to use as a measure of a machine’s suitability. William’s plan was that while one of them flew the plane the other should sit in the observer’s cockpit and record the results. ‘You can fly her if you like,’ he suggested. ‘After all, I’ve already done the test flights.’

  ‘Alright,’ Christopher agreed. ‘I’ll just fetch my goggles.’

  William climbed up to the front cockpit, and as he did he saw that Christopher’s goggles were in fact on the seat. He turned to call him back just as Christopher took something from his pocket and went into the garage. For an instant William saw the flash of sunlight on silver.

  When Christopher returned, William could smell the whisky on his breath. He handed him his goggles. ‘They were on the seat.’

  ‘Thanks. I thought I’d left them inside.’

  With a jolt, William realised that Christopher was nervous. It occurred to him that this would be the first time Christopher had flown since Wentworth had been killed, and he recalled the night he’d heard Christopher dreaming. He wondered if he should say something. Christopher’s manner was more than usually breezy, but William guessed it was a front. He supposed he could invent some reason to postpone the flight, perhaps a mechanical defect. He was sure Christopher would go along with it, but then what? It needed both of them to do the final test flight properly, and perhaps it was exactly what Christopher needed. He decided they should go ahead.

  ‘Ready?’ he said when Christopher was in his seat.

  ‘Absolutely.’

  William went around to the front and gave the propeller a half turn. ‘Contact?’

  ‘Contact,’ Christopher responded as he switched on.

  William gave the prop another turn, and at once there was a sudden, small explosion, and the engine roared into life. Hurriedly, he climbed up to his seat, and then they began to move across the grass, quickly gathering pace until all at once they were in the air and climbing. He turned around and gave Christopher the thumbs up sign, which Christopher returned. Reassured, William pressed the button to start his stopwatch and then turned his attention to the set of instruments they had fitted to record the performance of their machine.

  *****

  Two days after they had carried out their successful test flight, William was tinkering with the biplane when a car stopped outside. For a moment he thought it was Elizabeth, but whe
n he went outside he was surprised to see that it was Arthur.

  ‘How have you been?’ William asked as they shook hands, though in fact Arthur looked terrible. He hadn’t shaved for several days and his eyes were bloodshot.

  ‘Not so bad. I thought I’d come and see how you’re getting on.’ Arthur looked about in a slightly furtive way. ‘Is your friend ‘ere then?’

  ‘You mean Christopher? No, he’s in town. Actually I’m glad you’ve come. I’ve been meaning to look in at the garage, but I haven’t had time lately. How are things?’

  ‘I ‘ad to let Mathew go,’ Arthur said, referring to the mechanic he had taken on.

  ‘Why?’ William said in alarm.

  ‘I couldn’t afford his wages. I might as well tell you I can’t pay what I owe you either, Will. Not at the moment. But things’ll pick up I ‘spect.’

  ‘What’s happened?’ William asked anxiously. ‘I thought things were going well.’ The fact that Arthur had fallen behind with his repayments again was bad enough, but what was more worrying was that more than three quarters of the total debt was still outstanding, and William was already overdrawn at the bank.

  Arthur was annoyingly vague with his answers. ‘I’ve ‘ad to turn customers away,’ he admitted in the end when William continued to press him. ‘I couldn’t get the parts anymore.’

  ‘You mean you couldn’t get credit?’ William guessed, knowing there could only be one reason for that. With a sinking feeling he saw how bad things must be. ‘Do you owe them money?’

  ‘I got behind,’ Arthur said refusing to meet his eye.

  ‘Damn it, Arthur, I warned you about this,’ William said angrily. ‘What about the bank? Have you kept up your payments?’

  Arthur stared at the ground, the answer obvious, but when he looked up again there was an odd look in his eyes. ‘How’s Sophie, Will?’ he asked as if the question of the bank and his business troubles had entirely slipped from his mind.

  ‘She’s well, as far as I know,’ William said, immediately cautious.

  ‘I’ve seen ‘er in town sometimes, but she won’t talk to me anymore.’