Beneath the Dover Sky (31 page)

“I think Mary, Queen of Scots, has finally settled.”

“I’m glad to hear it. She can be a monster if she doesn’t get her sleep.”

“I’m pretty sure there’s a sword somewhere under her blankets.”

“Is there? That’s surprising.”

Michael stared as her sharp tone registered. “Hey, what’s the matter?”

Libby was sitting in her nightgown on the edge of the bed and filing her nails. “I’m just shocked she has a sword of her own. My dad certainly didn’t give it to her.”

“What do you mean?”

“He had swords for everyone but her. When she asked for one, he said the extras were for Sean and Ramsay and Tim when they come back from Germany.”

“So he just brought them for the boys—”

“Only one of the dresses they gave her fit, do you know that? I helped her try them on while the boys were roasting bangers with Harrison.”

“I’m sure your mom did the best she could. She wouldn’t know Jane’s size.”

“She knows it all right. Vic cabled me and I cabled her the measurements back weeks ago.”

Michael sat next to her on the bed. “Look, she had a terrific day. I’m sure she’s forgotten all about the dresses that didn’t fit.”

Libby examined her nails. “Until next week. Then the tears will come.”

“She has that incredible dress from Kipp and Caroline—the one from Morocco. She looks like a sultan’s queen in that.”

“She does. With her skin color, high cheekbones, and dark eyes and hair she’s stunning.”

“She’ll be all right.”

“She won’t be all right. She knows my mother and father don’t approve of her being our daughter.”

“They need time, Lib.”

Libby flared. “Time? It will be a year in October. It’s precisely the sort of thing that happened when they didn’t approve of Victoria and Ben or Edward and Char.”

“So they’ll come around eventually.”

“You don’t know that. Mum and Dad went through years of being snubbed by their friends because of Vic and Edward’s ‘low’ marriages. I’m sure neither of them is interested in a repeat of that experience, and certainly not over a little, lost Chinese girl from America.”

He rubbed a hand over his face. “I’ll talk with them.”

She smiled even as she shook her head. “Dear Michael, my American hero.” She kissed him on the cheek. “They’ll listen politely to their precious son-in-law from the United States. They’ll nod. They’ll offer you tea or coffee. And a week later…maybe two weeks…nothing will have changed.”

“Jane’s status doesn’t seem to bother anyone else in the family—”

“With the exception of Edward. But then he doesn’t approve of Catherine marrying a German, so why should he approve of you and I adopting an
Oriental
?”

“If Jane were among the schoolchildren in London or Liverpool, they would be merciless because she’s different.”

“And that’s why she’s not among the schoolchildren in London or Liverpool!” snapped Libby. “That’s why we’re at Dover Sky and a tutor comes from Dover three days a week. How do I protect my daughter from her British grandparents?”

Michael gripped her hand and put it to his lips. “We love her. She knows that.”

“Of course we do.”

“And the day will come when your mom and dad will too. I believe that.”

“Darling, you believe anything. You’re always on the up and up.”

“Ever since I met my English nurse during the war.”

Her blue eyes lost their fire and softened. “Yes, that’s true. Ever since her.” She leaned her head against his chest and his arm went around her. “I expect you’re right. They’ll become proper grandparents one day. I just don’t know what it will take.”

12

August, 1927

The Orkney Islands, northern Britain

Ben Whitecross peered out of the cockpit at a black and yellow airplane also idling on the runway. It was the same kind of three-engined Fokker he was sitting in. “Von Zeltner again. Doesn’t that bloke ever give up?”

Michael Woodhaven leaned over from his seat and looked back past Ben’s shoulder. “He probably wonders the same thing about us.”

Ben glanced at his brother-in-law’s neck. “A bit flashy for an endurance race, don’t you think?”

Michael patted the orange silk scarf. “Jane asked me never to take it off, so here it stays. You can always put on sunglasses if it’s too bright for you. I’m sure Ramsay had something for your pocket.”

“He did.” Ben grinned and tugged out a large wooden soldier dressed as a fighter pilot, complete with goggles and a white scarf. “It does look like me, don’t you think?”

“With its wooden head? You bet.”

They both laughed and returned to checking the dials and gauges.

“Oil looks good.” Ben tapped the face of one of the gauges. “Petrol is topped up.”

“Well, it won’t be if they don’t get this show on the road. We’ve been idling for ten minutes already.”

“Looks like something’s up.”

A tall man in a long trench coat waved his arms. Another man beside him had a blue flag that he was unfurling.

“Right. Here we go. We’re fourth in line. The Belgian is first, then the Dutch lad, then Zeltner, and then us. I’ve got the first leg to the Channel. After that it’s your stick.”

Michael settled himself into his seat. “We’ll go over Dover Sky as we agreed?”

“‘Course we will. Won’t cost us any time. The whole crew’ll be there except Catherine and Albrecht.”

Michael checked the map on his knee. “No reason we can’t do a flyover of Tubingen. It’s within the flight path.”

“I doubt they’ll be on the rooftop watching for us.”

Michael shrugged. “I’ll do it anyway.”

“It’ll probably be dark.”

He shrugged again.

“Our turn.” The man with the blue flag was waving it at them. Ben opened the throttle. “In any case, we can’t play cricket with the whole clan. Robbie’s still in Palestine, and we’d have to go well out of our way to fly over his head.”

“Can’t have that. We should visit him after.”

Ben grunted. “Could do.”

“There’s Kipp in Morocco.”

“African landfall’s Algeria, one country over. Then we land in Sierra Leone for our second leg. We’ll not see Kipp anymore than we’ll see Robbie.”

Michael rustled around in a paper bag at his feet and pulled out a large ham sandwich. With a wink at Ben he bit into it.

“Hey, mate!” Ben protested. “That’s for later.”

Michael shook his head. “I’m famished.”

The Fokker roared into the sky.

Lord Preston paced back and forth in the library at Dover Sky.

“Where are the children?” he suddenly asked Victoria.

She put down her teacup. “With Harrison and Holly, of course.”

He glanced over the faces in the room. “What about Caroline?”

“On a stroll with Jane,” said Libby who was sitting next to Victoria.

Edward had both arms along the back of a couch he was sprawled in. “Relax, Dad. The BBC will broadcast if there’s any news of the race. The planes were all there at Gibraltar.”

“Two days ago. No news from Sierra Leone. Africa is the rough spot, Edward. None of them will have enough fuel.”

“They’ve all strapped on extra containers of petrol they can release into the main tank if they need it.”

Lady Preston’s hands were clasped tightly in her lap. “Do stop this pacing and fretting, William. You’re making me anxious. I was quite all right after you and Jeremy prayed an hour ago. Now you follow it up with your lion in the cage restlessness, and now I’m on pins and needles.”

“Sorry, my dear. Forgive me.” He cocked his head. “What’s that?”

Jeremy was sitting next to a radio that was housed in a cathedral-shaped wooden cabinet on four legs. He’d been listening to weather reports and music with the volume turned down. Hearing the broadcaster’s voice at the same time as Lord Preston, he turned a knob.

“This is the BBC. We’ve heard by cable from colleagues at Cape Town Radio,” the announcer said.

Outside the library windows that had been opened to let in the summer breeze and the salt air from the sea, a boy shouted,
“I’m a plane! I’m Daddy.”

“Two airplanes have landed. At the time the cable was sent to London from Cape Town, another aircraft was spotted approaching the landing site from the north and west.”

“Vrooooom. Vroooooom.”

“There are reports of at least one plane going into the sea as it followed the African coastline. Fishing vessels attempted to reach the aircraft before it sank, but they were unsuccessful. It remains unidentified.”

“Ramsay! Watch out! You almost ran over your brother!”

“Right, everyone! Round to the back of the manor for oatmeal cookies with chocolate chips! Missus Norah and Missus Bev have baked up dozens!”

“Another telegram from Cape Town Radio has reached us at our
studios here in England. The news in it is at least an hour old. A plane has crashed upon arrival at the Cape Town airfield. Cape Town confirms it is one of the four British planes entered in the endurance race in honor of Charles Lindbergh. There are no further details.”

“Yaaaaaaaay!”

“Hurry! Last one gets the horse’s oats!”

“Lord Preston?” Skitt had entered the library.

The family members were hanging on every word the broadcaster spoke. Libby and Victoria held each other’s hands. Head down, Lord Preston merely grunted in response to Skitt’s summons.

“It’s the telephone, m’lord. Do you want to take it in the parlor?”

“Who is it, Skitt?”

“It’s the prime minister, m’lord. He says he has important information for you.”

ALBRECHT AND CATHERINE

AIRCRASH AT CAPE TOWN LANDING SITE. MICHAEL KILLED. SURGEONS IN CAPE TOWN REMOVED BOTH OF BEN’S LEGS. IT IS STILL TOUCH AND GO WHETHER HE WILL SURVIVE. AT HIS PARENTS’ REQUEST MICHAEL’S BODY IS BEING SENT FROM SOUTH AFRICA TO NEW YORK. AS YOU CAN IMAGINE WE ARE QUITE DEVASTATED HERE. VICTORIA AND LIBBY ARE BEARING UP BUT WE ALL COULD USE YOUR PRAYERS. IN PARTICULAR PRAY FOR BEN. WILL SEND ANOTHER TELEGRAM WHEN THERE’S MORE NEWS.

JEREMY

Dover Sky

“I feel old, quite old, my dear.” Lord Preston awkwardly patted Libby’s hand. “I don’t know what else to say.”

Libby looked down at her hands in her lap. “I don’t suppose any of us have words for some of these things, do we, Father?” She tried to smile. “I could have lost him during the war. We had almost ten years together because he wasn’t shot down like his brother. That’s something, isn’t it?”

“It is, yes.”

“You are in agreement that Jane and I travel back to New York to see the gravesite? And attend the special memorial service in September?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t want to leave Vic’s side, but we must go, Father. Mum doesn’t seem to understand.”

Lord Preston closed his eyes a moment. “It is a great blow. Two years ago Christelle and now this. And Kipp still fighting with the Foreign Legion in Africa. It’s too much for Elizabeth.”