Inherit the Skies (51 page)

‘Unfortunately it won't last,' Adam said. ‘At the stroke of midnight it will all begin again.'

‘I suppose you must be pleased about that,' James said. His tone was defiant.

‘What the devil do you mean by that?'

‘Exactly what I say. It would have been disappointing for you not to have the chance to do a bit of fancy flying over the German lines and perhaps to kill a few of your fellow men.'

There was a moment's shocked silence. Gilbert fixed him with a cold glare.

‘There is no need to be offensive, James.'

‘It's all right, Gilbert,' Adam said nastily. ‘I know James has strong feelings on the subject of war.'

‘Feelings which disgrace us all!' Hugh was less inclined to let the remark pass, and Alicia, laying down her knife and fork, joined in.

‘How dare you say such things, James, with your own brother wounded in the service of his country?'

‘I don't care what you say, fighting and killing are not the way to settle anything,' James defended himself. ‘There have to be better ways.'

‘Such as what?'

‘Talking things over – compromise.'

‘Standing aside and letting a bully walk all over you, you mean.'

‘No, what the Kaiser is doing is wrong, not a doubt of it. But so is war. Two wrongs don't make a right.'

‘Talking to a bully does no good. There is only one thing he understands – and that is force,' Hugh maintained.

‘You would say that!' James's face was pink now. He disliked arguments almost as much as he disliked physical violence. ‘You have always settled your arguments with your fists, Hugh. I haven't forgotten how you and Lawrence used to fight. There was one time – I shall always remember it – when the two of you had a fight in the stables and you made Lawrence's nose bleed and blacked his eye. What good did it do? I don't remember what it was about and I don't suppose you do either but …' He broke off. The hush around the table was no longer the silence of a family biting their tongues not to say something which would spoil the Christmas meal but a silence full of horrified embarrassment. The blood had drained from Sarah's face, Blanche looked thunderstruck, while Lawrence, Hugh and Alicia wore expressions of varying degrees of guilt and fury. Only Leo looked faintly puzzled and little Stephen, totally unaware of the impact of James's words, continued to munch happily.

Gilbert looked from one to the other of them. ‘Whilst I am aware you boys were always scrapping when you were young I can't say I recall anything so serious.'

Alicia gave a short forced laugh. ‘I expect James is exaggerating as usual. It is known as artistic licence.'

‘But a bloody nose and a black eye! I'm sure I would not have forgotten something like that. Or does the artistic licence extend that far? Well, James?'

‘Yes, sir. I mean …' James was stuttering now, realising that he had stumbled into forbidden territory.

‘Yes you invented the bloody nose?' Gilbert persisted. ‘You mean to say you are a liar as well as a coward?'

‘Father, really!' In spite of her earlier outburst Alicia now rushed to his defence. ‘ James is neither a coward nor a liar. It's just that he has … convictions.'

‘And illusions.'

‘No. The fight he is referring to happened while you were away. In France. It was a very long time ago.'

‘Not so long ago but that you all seem to remember it very clearly,' Gilbert said drily.

‘I think I should have stayed at Upavon!' Adam remarked in an effort to restore a good humoured atmosphere. ‘There is a good deal less shot and shell there!'

‘How true!' Blanche said hastily, steering the conversation away from dangerous waters. ‘Stephen has finished eating, I see. I suggest we allow him to open the present Father Christmas left for him on the tree. After all he has been a very patient little boy.'

‘What a good idea!' Alicia leaped up, fetching the ribbon-trimmed package and helping Stephen to untie the bows. ‘What is it, Stephen? Shall we see?'

As he tore aside the paper to reveal a toy merry-go-round, each horse on its barley-sugar pole beautifully carved, Sarah watched, but her hands were twisted tightly together in the folds of her skirt and her forced smile was making her cheeks ache. Feelings in this family ran as high as ever, memories were long. Not even a war could erase them. But at least they were all as anxious as she was to prevent Gilbert discovering the truth of what had happened that long ago day. Concentrating on Stephen and his new toy she avoided the eyes of the others and longed for the time when she would be able to take her son and drive home away from all of them.

From all of them except of course Adam.

She stole a glance at him, bending over to show Stephen how to wind the handle on the merry-go-round to make it turn and the horses rise and fall on their poles, and wished for a sharply aching moment that he was coming with her. But Adam was Alicia's husband and had been now for more than four years. In some ways it seemed a lifetime since he had been hers, in others just yesterday.

With a determination born of long practice Sarah pushed the treacherous thought away.

When the works resumed full production after the short Christmas break Sarah went to see Gilbert in his office. For some time now she had been feeling increasingly dissatisfied with the part she was playing – there was little need now for brochures and catalogues proclaiming the attributes of Morse Bailey machines for every aeroplane turned out by the works was to Government specification and the work which kept Max busy was more secret than the love letters of a king to a courtesan. Sarah hated to feel useless and her frustration had been fuelled by the discovery that Alicia had plans to do something positive for the war effort.

There must be something she could do, Sarah had thought, racking her brains in the long lonely hours when Stephen was in bed and asleep. But when the idea had come to her, it had set her pulses racing with excitement.

She would learn to fly.
It was something she had longed to do from the first time she had seen an aeroplane but Eric had forbidden it. Now Eric was no longer here to stop her. Besides, how could he justify doing so when it would be her contribution to the war effort? For there must be jobs for anyone who could fly, even a woman – ferrying aeroplanes, perhaps, making deliveries and air drops of mail and supplies; when every trained man was needed for really dangerous and taxing missions there must be a niche for her … The more she thought about it the more enthusiastic Sarah grew and she resolved to take the matter up with Gilbert without delay.

She found him in his office poring over the latest set of instructions from the Royal Aircraft Factory. When he saw her he set them aside, sitting back in his chair and smoothing the tired furrows between his eyebrows with his fingers.

‘Sarah, nice to see you!'

‘I hope you still think so when I tell you why I'm here.'

He smiled wryly. ‘ That sounds ominous.'

‘Not really. But I'm not quite sure if you will approve of what I am going to suggest – and I do so want you to.'

He laughed as he always did at her forthrightness. ‘Well, Sarah, what is it you want?'

‘I want to learn to fly.'

‘Good Lord!'

‘I thought you'd be surprised but …' She launched into the speech she had prepared and he listened, fingers pressed together.

‘Sarah, I don't think it's possible,' he said when she finished. ‘The flying schools are mostly occupied with training young men for the RFC and the RNAS. There is a civilian school at Hendon it's true. But I fail to see what use you could be, and I don't think it would be right for you to take up aircraft and instructors who would be better employed training pilots. No, I'm sorry but I couldn't approve such an idea.'

‘But I feel so useless!' Sarah pleaded. ‘Alicia has her convalescent home after all while I …'

‘What would become of Stephen while you were away?' Gilbert asked. ‘I know he is at nursery school now but didn't his nanny leave to get married last year? Isn't that one of the reasons you have been leaving the office early on the days you have been working?'

‘Yes – it didn't seem necessary to replace her but of course if I were away I would have to make some arrangements. I realise a lot of suitable girls have gone off to become nurses but if I ran into difficulties I am sure Annie would be only too pleased to help me out. Stephen and John are very good friends and Annie adores him.'

‘Hmm.' Gilbert looked thoughtful. ‘In that case I am going to make a suggestion. Why don't you help Alicia with the nursing home?'

Sarah gazed at him in dismay. The idea was ludicrous – she and Alicia, sworn enemies, working so closely together! Worse, since the convalescent home was Alicia's idea, she would be the one in charge. The very thought of having to do as Alicia told her was anathema to Sarah. Yet Gilbert was quite serious in putting forward the suggestion. Would he never learn that the two girls could never be friends? Would he never stop trying to force them together?

‘You don't have to make a decision now. I know it is not quite what you had in mind but it is altogether more suitable and if you wish to aid the war effort I know you will give it your serious consideration.' Gilbert paused, looking at her. ‘Besides, there is something I would like you to do for me which would give you the chance to see something of what the work would be. Alicia is going to Bristol for a week or so to learn the rudiments of First Aid. Her convalescent home will not involve any real nursing, of course, but there are certain things she needs to know. I wondered if you would come to Chewton Leigh and look after Hugh while she is away. He is much better now but Alicia feels he should not be left alone.'

Sarah's hands and feet had begun to prickle uncomfortably.

‘Surely Blanche …'

‘Blanche is no nurse.'

‘You said no nursing was involved.'

‘Not as such. But convincing Blanche of that is quite another matter. Anyway she has other commitments.' He said it indulgently, with a twinkle that told Sarah he knew Blanche's ‘other commitments' were nothing more than an excuse. ‘I would be very grateful, Sarah, if you would do this – as a favour to me.'

With a sinking heart she knew he had her. The prospect of being alone with Hugh for a single hour, let alone perhaps days on end, was repugnant to her but when Gilbert put it like that it was impossible to refuse him after all he had done for her. She folded her hands tightly, conscious of his eyes on her as he waited for her answer.

‘Very well. What do I have to do?'

‘Alicia begins her course on Monday. Perhaps you could come to Chewton Leigh early enough for her to show you the ropes.'

Another wave of distaste made Sarah's skin prickle. Surely they did not expect her to attend to Hugh's personal toilet – wash him and dress him? She could not do it. Would not!

As if reading her thoughts Gilbert said swiftly: ‘Don't worry – you won't have to do anything you might consider improper. Hugh is quite capable of doing everything for himself now with the exception of having his bath and Evans has proved himself most loyal in that respect. No, it is more a matter of being with him and preventing him from brooding too much. A good many of his friends died at Wytschaete, you know, and things were pretty bad. Hugh is more affected than he cares to admit.'

‘Really?' she said, doubt creeping into her voice. Hugh the career soldier, Hugh the man – neither had ever struck her as being sensitive enough to be upset by the things he had seen and experienced, however horrible. She pictured him as he had been at Christmas, sitting there and sneering at her, and found Gilbert's statement even more difficult to believe.

‘A man like Hugh believes emotion is a weakness,' Gilbert said and again she had the uncanny feeling he could read her thoughts. ‘As for fear – he equates that with cowardice, not fully realising that it is only possible to be truly brave when one is afraid. Until now his boldness has all stemmed from lack of imagination. Now he has seen warfare at its most horrible and he does not need imagination to conjure it up. His memories are all too real and he has to come to terms with the emotions they evoke. Besides this he knows he has to return to France as soon as he is fit.' He paused, looking at her directly. ‘ Some of the stories he may tell you will not be very pleasant, but I believe you are strong enough to listen, just as Alicia is. You are strong enough, aren't you, Sarah?'

‘Oh yes,' she said faintly, thinking that however gory Hugh's conversation might be it would be preferable to the personal things he might say to her.

‘Good. As to this flying business, put it out of your mind. It is not practicable at the moment – and goodness knows what Eric would say if he knew what you were suggesting. Since he is not here it is only right that I should uphold his wishes.'

So much for your fine theories about the emancipation of women! Sarah thought furiously but she did not dare say it. Her respect for Gilbert was far too great.

‘I shall tell Alicia to expect you first thing in the morning then,' Gilbert said and there was nothing she could do but nod impotently.

On a bitter morning a week after Christmas Adam pushed aside his rough army blanket and crawled out of his narrow bed. Outside the hut which comprised his billet here at the Central Flying School the darkness was still complete and Adam shivered as he drew icy water for his bath and soaped himself vigorously.

If this was war then it was a tedious business! he thought irritably, and not for the first time he found himself envying the young men he tutored. They were a motley crew, some with the instant feeling for the controls which marked out the born flier, some struggling with grim determination to master the techniques and skills, a few who would never make pilots at all. But they all came to the Flying School brimming with enthusiasm, craving the excitement that trench warfare could never give them, ready to swank about their achievements and excuse their disasters, and Adam had found himself growing steadily more impatient with his own role. All very well to tell himself he was playing a vital part in the war effort – he could not rid himself of the feeling that instructing was an old man's job, and he was far from being an old man.