The Flyer (20 page)

‘Well, I expect it will set me along the path anyway. And then your parents will approve of me.’

He kissed her before she had time to think about what he meant, and then he jumped down and gave the prop a turn to prime the engine.

‘Ready?’

Elizabeth nodded gamely, and he went back to switch on then, gave the prop another turn and the engine caught and fired. The plane was already moving as he climbed into his seat and opened the throttle. Elizabeth held on tightly to the sides of her cockpit as the noise of the engine grew louder. They bumped quickly across the field, and then as William pulled back on the control stick they rose smoothly into the air.

The plane climbed quickly, and within a few minutes they were flying at three thousand feet. Far below them, the woods and fields were spread out in a collage of greens and browns and gold, and threaded through it all were silvery threads of rivers and streams. As they passed over a small village Elizabeth found the courage to look down. Once she got over her initial terror, she stopped holding on so tightly, mesmerised instead by this new perspective of the world. William flew them above Pistford House so that she could see something she knew well, and from there he flew to Earls Barton and her own house. He made a pass over the roof at a hundred feet and then came back a second time. Elizabeth’s mother and one of her sisters had come out into the garden and were looking up at them and Elizabeth waved and then turned to him, grinning in delight. He pushed the stick from side to side to waggle the wings and turning east he began to climb again.

At ten thousand feet the clouds looked solid enough to walk on. Elizabeth gazed all around at the landscape of billowing, cotton-like mountains. Towering cumulus rose far above them, and beyond was the never ending cerulean blue. The slanting rays of the sun cast shadows that raced like vast armies across the earth far below.

They began to descend, and the shadow of the plane crossed the fields like a cross carried before crusaders of old. And then they were following the course of the river Nene along the valley floor, past the mill at Barnwell. William turned to take them over Oundle. He looked down on the buildings of the school where he had spent so much of his childhood, and the market square where he first saw Emmaline, and the churchyard where he had sat with her. Leaving the town behind he followed the path that crossed the water meadow and ran beside the river, until he saw Fotheringhay Castle, no more than a mound of earth where once he’d seen a ghostly figure in the mist. He remembered the air of melancholy that enveloped the place and the aura of loneliness he’d identified with. Eventually he changed direction again.

When they reached Scaldwell, he flew over the village and landed the plane in a grassy field. As they came to a stop he switched off the engine, and the sudden quiet after the constant roar of the engine was almost startling. He climbed out of his cockpit and helped Elizabeth down. She took off her helmet and goggles and shook her hair free.

‘Why did you wait so long before you took me flying? I’ve never experienced anything like it.’ She laughed in delight and then she threw her arms about him and kissed him.

William thought she was beautiful, with her long hair swept back and her smiling face upturned to the sun, her sea green eyes.

‘Where are we?’ she asked looking around. ‘I know that was Oundle we flew over before, but what was the other place?’

‘It’s all that’s left of Fotheringhay Castle. When I was at school I used to run there to make my leg strong again.’

She heard something in his voice and then she looked around again. ‘This is where you grew up, isn’t it?’

He took her hand. ‘I’ll show you.’

The cottage was exactly as he remembered it, though the forge was empty. He told Elizabeth everything about himself, beginning with how his parents met and ran away. He told her about his mother dying, and about the accident in the wheat field that almost cost him a leg, and as they walked into the village he tried to explain what it had been like for him when he was sent to Oundle. When they reached the church he showed her where his parents were buried.

‘At my father’s funeral I stood here surrounded by people I had grown up with, and I realised I didn’t belong here anymore.’

‘Is that when you went to Northampton?’

‘Yes.’ He told her how he’d run out of money and ended up wandering the streets until eventually he went to work at Ballantynes. She listened in silence to his description of his life there, and he could see in her eyes that it was so far removed from her experience that she could barely comprehend it.  

‘Do you think it matters to me where you came from? Is that why you brought me here?’ she asked at last.

‘I wanted you to know who I am.’

He’d planned to ask her to marry him at that point, but suddenly he changed his mind and he decided he would wait until they got back to Pitsford. Scaldwell was his past, whereas his future lay elsewhere.

*****

As they flew over Pitsford House, William saw Christopher’s car in the yard, and as soon as they landed, Christopher strode towards them.

‘Where the hell have you been all this time?’ he said, sounding agitated. ‘We’ve been waiting here for absolutely ages.’ He glanced at Elizabeth with a sort of mute appeal. ‘Sophie’s inside. She’s rather upset.’

‘What is it? Is something wrong?’ Elizabeth asked.

‘Yes. Christ, it’s such a bloody mess. Liz, will you talk to her for me? Please. She’ll listen to another woman.’

Elizabeth glanced worriedly at William. ‘I’d better go and see her.’

As she went off towards the garage, William turned to Christopher. ‘What’s going on?’

‘I’m sorry about this, old man. I suppose I’m a bit on edge to tell the truth. I was looking for Liz, you see, and when I telephoned her house I heard she was with you. Where have you been anyway?’

‘I took her up for a bit a joyride.’

‘Oh, I see.’ Christopher took out his cigarette case and offered one to William. ‘You did well getting her to go up with you. I could never persuade her.’

‘Why did you want to see her in such a hurry anyway?’

‘Because I couldn’t think what else to do. It’s Sophie. She’s going to have a child.’

William was too taken aback to say anything. Christopher walked off a little way and stood smoking his cigarette.

‘What will you do?’ William asked eventually.

‘I really don’t know. What do you think I ought to do?’

‘I’m not sure I feel qualified to offer advice. I’ve no experience in these things.’

‘I hope you don’t think that I have,’ Christopher said defensively.

‘No, of course not. That isn’t what I meant.’

‘I’m sorry, it’s shock that’s making me like this.’

‘It’s alright.’

‘You are a good fellow, you know.’ Christopher managed a brief smile, a flicker of his old self. ‘To make matters worse, I telephoned the place where she works,’ he went on. ‘Obviously she wasn’t in a state to go in, so I told them she wasn’t feeling well. The woman I spoke to took quite a sniffy line with me. Put me on to the chap who runs the place. Walker, I think. The solicitor. Anyway, the bloody fellow made it clear that I could tell Sophie that she would no longer be required. I tell you, if I could have, I think I would have hit him.’

‘Did you tell Sophie?’

‘Yes. I told her that she needn’t worry of course. I was going to ask her to leave anyway. I said she’d be too busy looking after me, or something like that. She brightened up a bit then. The trouble is she misunderstood. She thought I meant we’d get married.’

‘You never got around to explaining things to her then?’ William guessed.

‘No, not exactly. Anyway, I thought she understood. She seemed happy when I bought the flat. I mean, why else would I have bought the bloody thing? I’ve tried to explain to her that marriage isn’t possible, but she became hysterical. I’m afraid I’ve made an absolute hash of everything. Perhaps I should go and see how she is. She was very upset.’

‘What will you say to her?’

‘I’ve no idea.’

‘Can I ask you something?’ William said.

‘Of course.’

‘Has this changed the way you feel about her? I mean, do you still love her?’

‘Yes, of course I do. What sort of chap do you think I am?’

‘I’m sorry, I just feel that if you love Sophie I don’t really see why you can’t marry her. Is it really out of the question?’

Christopher was astonished at the suggestion. ‘You have to understand my position, William. My personal feelings don’t enter into this at all. Unfortunately, being born into a family like mine means I have certain obligations. In many ways my life isn’t my own. It’s one of the things I envy about you.’

‘About me?’

‘Yes. You have your plans and your ambition, but my life is rather preordained by comparison.’ He made a gesture, encompassing their surroundings. ‘All of this will be my responsibility one day. I have a duty to my family, to generations past and future. I know it might all sound a bit old hat to some people these days, but I take the expectations placed upon me very seriously. And those expectations include having the right sort of wife. I can’t simply marry anyone I choose. It’s a tremendous burden really, but it’s simply the way things are. I tried to explain this to Sophie. Do you know what she said? She told me that she had read of Dukes and Earls who had married girls from the Gaiety Theatre. Can you imagine? I suppose it’s quite true actually. But it’s hardly the point.’

‘But surely if you love each other, none of it matters,’ William insisted.

‘Of course it matters,’ Christopher replied with the faint air of somebody explaining what ought to be perfectly apparent. ‘If I married Sophie, in all likelihood I would be disinherited. It isn’t the money, you understand, I would always have an allowance of some sort. It’s everything else. The tradition. Responsibility. It’s who I am, William. I suppose it’s not as obvious to somebody like yourself, but to me it’s an impossible thing to ask.’

‘As you say, I expect it isn’t obvious to somebody like me,’ William said with a faintly scathing tone, though if Christopher heard him he didn’t register it. Instead his attention was diverted when Elizabeth emerged from the garage bringing Sophie with her. Sophie looked awful. Her eyes were swollen from crying, and her whole posture sagged in despair.

‘I’m going to take Sophie home,’ Elizabeth said. ‘We’ve arranged that in the morning I’ll call for her, and then we’ll decide what we’re going to do. I’ll telephone you later, once I’ve seen that Sophie is alright.’

‘Yes, alright,’ Christopher agreed, clearly relieved that she was taking charge, and he gave her the keys to his car before kissing Sophie on her cheek. ‘I’m sorry, darling. I know I’ve been hopeless. Everything will be alright though, I promise.’

She seemed heartened by his assurance and allowed herself to be led away.

‘I think I need a drink,’ Christopher said and started towards the house. ‘Are you coming?’

But William didn’t feel like a drink. ‘I don’t think I will.’ Christopher hesitated, hearing the note of censure in William’s tone. William gestured to the plane. ‘I want to check something,’ he said, though it was obvious he was making an excuse.

They looked at one another, as if both of them saw something unexpected that they had somehow missed before. Then Christopher nodded and turned away.

‘Alright. I’ll see you later then.’

CHAPTER 18

Dinner that evening was a strained affair. It seemed to William that any attempt at conversation would be a pointless pretence and a denial of the subject uppermost in their minds, which Christopher was unwilling to broach. Christopher barely touched his food, but drank steadily instead, often staring for long periods into his glass, absorbed in his thoughts.

A few minutes after they were served a main course of beef, which neither of them had touched, Morton came into the room to tell Christopher that there was a telephone call from Miss Gordon.

‘Thank you, Morton.’ Christopher glanced at William as he got up, his expression managing to convey a whole raft of anxieties, and yet revealing nothing at all. He was gone for about ten minutes, and when he returned he said, ‘Liz is going to come over tomorrow.’

‘Is Sophie alright?’

‘Yes.’

After that nothing more was said, and a few minutes later William excused himself and went to his room, leaving Christopher to brood alone.

The following day Elizabeth arrived early in the afternoon. William was busy making last minute adjustments to the biplane that weren’t really necessary, but which gave him something to do. He hadn’t spoken to Christopher at all that day, though he’d seen him earlier, out walking alone with the look of somebody preoccupied with the weight of his troubles. At the sound of a car William went outside, and was in time to see Elizabeth going to the house. He almost called out to her, but in the end he thought it was better if he left them to it.

It was almost six o clock by the time he went inside. As he passed the open door to Sir James’s study, Elizabeth called out to him. Christopher sat at the desk with a glass of whisky in his hand. He looked dejected and tired.

‘I was going to come and find you in a minute,’ Elizabeth said. ‘Would you like a drink?’

‘Yes, alright, thanks.’

Elizabeth gave him a whisky and gestured to some legal looking documents on the desk. ‘We’ve been sorting out what to do about Sophie.’

‘How is she?’ William asked, putting aside the implication that Sophie was a problem to be dealt with, rather than their friend and Christopher’s lover.

‘We had a long talk yesterday. She calmed down in the end.’

Christopher got up and went to the window, where he gazed outside as if their conversation wasn’t his concern.

‘I’m going to go and see her again in the morning,’ Elizabeth went on. ‘To explain everything.’

There was a brief silence. William wondered what exactly needed to be explained, though he guessed it had to do with the documents on the desk. Elizabeth glanced towards Christopher as if seeking his support, but he had clearly decided to leave this to her.

‘We think the best thing would be for Sophie to go away somewhere to have her baby,’ she said finally. ‘I thought perhaps the south coast, though Sophie could choose somewhere herself, of course.’

‘So long as it’s far enough away, I suppose,’ William commented acidly.

‘Why do you say it like that?’

‘You want to get rid of her now that she’s become an embarrassment, isn’t that what you’re saying?’

‘That isn’t it at all!’ Elizabeth protested. ‘Surely it would be better for everyone, especially Sophie, if she goes far enough way that she can start a completely new life without having people spreading gossip. People here know that she and Christopher have been seeing each other. They’re bound to draw the obvious conclusion when it becomes known that she’s pregnant, and then it will follow them both around for ever. At least this way, Sophie can tell people that she’s a widow or something, and nobody will ever know it isn’t true. It won’t stop her from marrying in the future.’

William turned angrily to Christopher. ‘You said you were in love with Sophie! However you try to justify it, the fact is you simply want to bundle her off somewhere out of sight because suddenly she’s become inconvenient.’

‘That isn’t fair, William!’ Elizabeth said before Christopher could respond. ‘We’re simply trying to do what’s best.’

‘Best for who? Have you asked Sophie her opinion about any of this?’

‘For goodness sake, what else can he do?’

‘If he loves her, he could stand by her,’ William said.

‘You mean marry her? That simply isn’t realistic, William. Surely you can see that. And if Sophie stays here neither of them will be able to get on with their lives properly. It isn’t as if Sophie won’t be looked after financially. She’ll receive enough money to buy herself a modest house, and she’ll have an allowance so that she won’t ever have to work again, and her child will be provided for. I should have thought that all things considered, that isn’t such a terrible outcome.’

‘It’s their child,’ William pointed out, but Elizabeth regarded him blankly, missing his meaning. ‘You said Sophie’s child will be provided for, but it’s Christopher’s child too, or had you forgotten that?’

‘Of course I haven’t.’

But William saw that in a way Elizabeth had forgotten, or more accurately she had chosen to. In the same way she was choosing to ignore Sophie’s feelings, even insinuating that so long as Sophie was given enough money to allow her to live comfortably nothing else would matter to her. He suddenly understood that this was all Elizabeth’s idea. ‘Why are you doing this?’ he asked her.

‘What do you mean? I’m trying to help.’

‘Are you? It seems that you’re the one making all the decisions. Christopher hasn’t even said a word.’

She stared at him, and though she denied it, he saw in her eyes that he was right. ‘I resent what you’re implying. Christopher asked me to help as a friend and that’s what I’m doing.’

Christopher turned away from the window. ‘Liz is right, old man,’ he said, speaking at last. ‘She’s only doing this because I asked her to. She’s always been dependable. I know this is all terrible, but whether you believe it or not I care very deeply about Sophie. In a way that’s why it really would be better for her to move away somewhere. Apart from anything else, if she stays here I won’t be able to stop myself from seeing her. I know I won’t. And that’s not really fair on Sophie is it? That’s why I’ve decided to leave Northampton for a little while. Give her time to find somewhere to live.’

Christopher glanced at Elizabeth, and William realised from the look they exchanged that they hadn’t intended to tell him this yet.

‘I thought I might go and spend a bit of time in the South of France. There’s a motor race there I might enter, actually. It would give me something else to think of.’

‘You mean you’re going to turn your back on her?’ William said tightly. He could barely control his anger. It was clear that Elizabeth knew of Christopher’s plan. Perhaps she’d even suggested it herself. She looked away, avoiding him. Suddenly William felt that he didn’t know them at all, either of them. He could hardly believe they were capable of any of this, and yet they spoke as if he was the one being unreasonable. It was all about one’s position and appearance.

‘When will you leave?’ he asked coldly.

‘In a day or two. It’s probably for the best.’

‘What about the army trials?’

‘I know it’s a bit of a blow, but you’ll be able to find somebody from Sywell to go with you. You only need somebody to take the observer’s seat after all. It’s not as if I’d actually be doing anything.’

Though what he said was true, William still couldn’t comprehend that Christopher would simply abandon the trials after all their work. ‘Don’t you care what happens?’

‘Yes of course I do. But let’s face it, old man, it’s really your baby isn’t it?’ Christopher stopped, realising that he’d chosen an unfortunate turn of phrase. ‘What I mean is, you’ve always been the real force behind building this plane. I’m sure you’ll do well without me there. You can come down to France afterwards and tell us all about it.’

‘Us?’ Struck by the plural term William looked at Elizabeth.

‘Yes, I thought I’d go along too,’ she said with forced lightness. ‘It might be best if somebody keeps an eye on him at a time like this.’

In a moment of revelation, William saw the truth. All of his doubts and uncertainties regarding Elizabeth and her feelings for him crystallised into the sudden certainty that, in the end, her loyalty lay with Christopher. This wasn’t about the ingrained allegiances of position and background, but rather, for Elizabeth, it was an opportunity she couldn’t let pass.

‘Why are you looking at me that way?’ Elizabeth demanded, but before William had a chance to respond she turned her back on him in a show of exasperation. ‘I knew you would react like this. That’s why I didn’t want to say anything yet.’ She shot a reproachful look at Christopher, who drained his glass and apologised.

‘I didn’t mean to put my foot in it,’ he said. ‘I think I ought to leave you two alone.’ He left the room, avoiding William’s eye.

Eventually, Elizabeth turned to face him again. ‘You have to understand, Christopher shouldn’t be alone at the moment,’ she began. ‘He’ll only brood and drink too much and then he might do something impulsive.’

‘You mean he might realise what he’s done and come back to Sophie?’ William questioned, knowing he sounded angry and bitter.

‘I know you think that would be a good thing, but you’re wrong,’ she said.

‘And is that why you’re going with him? To stop him doing something ‘impulsive’?’

‘Don’t,’ Elizabeth said tightly.

‘Tell me you’re not in love with him, then.’

‘For goodness sake! You’ve never believed me, have you, William? You’ve always thought that, despite everything.’

‘If I’m wrong, tell me.’

‘I shouldn’t have to,’ she said.

‘Perhaps not, but I think if I am wrong, you would tell me.’

They stared at one another, both angry and neither prepared to yield. A heaviness fell over William, and with it the pain of intense disappointment. He would have done anything if Elizabeth had come to him and told him she loved him. He would even have forgiven her for what she and Christopher were doing to Sophie, but he knew from her expression that there was nothing more to say.

As he turned to leave, she spoke his name, but he heard the uncertainty in her tone, as if she wasn’t sure herself what she wanted to happen. He kept going without looking around.

*****

From the street, William saw lights in the windows of the flat. He rang and Sophie let him in. When he reached her door she was waiting. He expected her to look wan or dishevelled from despair, but he found that she was composed and quite normal, though there wasn’t a hint of friendliness in her expression.

‘I expect you’ve come to make sure I won’t make any trouble,’ she said scornfully.

‘I came to see if you’re alright.’

She made a derisive sound. ‘Who sent you?’

‘Nobody sent me. I’ve been wandering around for hours.’

Perhaps it was his tone that made her look more closely at him. ‘Have you been drinking?’

‘Yes, though I’m not drunk. It’s funny, I’ve had quite a lot, but it doesn’t seem to have affected me.’

His sardonic tone made her curious. ‘Why have you come here?’

‘I told you, I wanted to see if you’re alright.’

She remained suspicious of him, but stood aside. ‘You’d better come in then.’

He followed her into the living room and she offered him a drink. ‘Thanks. I might as well have a whisky if you’ve got it.’

She fetched him a glass and poured herself one too from a decanter on a drinks trolley, and then sat down opposite him and lit a cigarette. He wondered if it was good for her to drink and smoke in her condition, though he didn’t say anything.

She saw him looking at some documents on the table. ‘I suppose you know what those are.’

‘I think so. Who brought them?’

‘Who do you think?’ she said contemptuously. ‘Your precious Elizabeth. I’ll tell you the same as I told her. I won’t sign them!’

‘I didn’t have anything to do with it, Sophie,’ William said, realising she thought he’d come to pressure her. ‘I only found out what was going on this afternoon. I told them what I thought of it and walked out.’

She studied him as if she was trying to make up her mind whether to believe him or not. ‘She’d like me to disappear and never come back,’ she said bitterly.

He didn’t need to ask to know that she meant Elizabeth.

‘You know she’s in love with Christopher, don’t you?’

‘Yes,’ he said heavily. ‘Have you always known?’

‘I knew it the first time I saw her.’

‘Is Christopher in love with her?’

‘No. That’s the stupid thing about all of this. Christopher loves me. I know he does. He wouldn’t do this if it wasn’t for her.’

‘I’m not defending her, Sophie, but Christopher isn’t being forced into anything.’

‘No, but she’s making it easy for him. If he had to come here and tell me himself, he wouldn’t do it. I know him.’ Sophie shook her head miserably. ‘We’re in the same boat you and me, aren’t we?’

‘I suppose we are.’

‘You don’t think it’s my own fault do you?’ she asked him. ‘That I meant to get pregnant?’

‘No, of course not.’

‘I was afraid Christopher would think I did. They haven’t said anything?’

‘Not to me.’

‘I’m glad you don’t think that. I thought you might.’

‘Why?’

‘I always thought you looked down on me a bit. Like you thought I was after Christopher because he’s rich.’

Though he didn’t admit it to her, William thought there was a part of him, a small part, that suspected Sophie of being an opportunist.

‘I always thought it was funny really,’ she mused.

‘In what way?’

‘Because we’re the same you and me, really. Do you remember that day at the airshow? I met somebody there I knew. She saw you talking to me and said she knew you when you worked at Ballantynes as a stock-boy.’

‘You never mentioned it,’ he said.

‘It wasn’t my business.’

William realised that Sophie had probably thought he was the opportunistic social climber and the irony made him smile.

‘What will you do about Elizabeth,’ she asked.

He shook his head. ‘Nothing. You can’t make somebody love you.’