Inherit the Skies (42 page)

He began his run down the slope, concentration now controlling every fibre of his being. At exactly the right moment he pulled back on the stick with the firm yet gentle pressure to raise the nose smoothly and felt the aeroplane lift. This time, more confident, he was conscious of a feeling of exhilaration. The rush of air felt good on his face, the smoothness of movement now that the ground was no longer bumping past beneath his wheels gave him the brief sensation of weightlessness. Encouraged he pulled on the stick a little more and knew without doubt this time that the aeroplane was responding. He was flying – he looked down at the grass and saw that his wheels were at least a foot clear. But there was no time to relish the sensation or the triumph before he had to put her down once again, bumping to a halt on the rough turf.

This time as he climbed down he saw that Gilbert and Alicia were making their way towards him. Gilbert looked pleased, Alicia, as always, wore an expression of inscrutability. She looked beautiful this morning in her coat of dark red wool, a small fur cap covering her glossy dark hair. With the release of tension singing in his veins he was aware of her for almost the first time as an extremely attractive woman.

‘Well done!' Gilbert greeted him. ‘That was magnificent!'

‘Thrilling!' Alicia placed a small gloved hand on his arm; he looked at her and her eyes met his levelly. There was something in them he could not read – challenge, and something else … the hint of an invitation? The maleness in him responded to it briefly sending a surge of power through him and warming his loins. He looked away.

‘You see, sir, I don't think your confidence in us was misplaced.' he said. ‘ That was only a brief hop but it is just the beginning.'

‘I am sure it is,' Gilbert said. ‘And I have two propositions to put to you gentlemen. One concerns you both, the other only you, Adam.'

A cold and unexpected blast of wind cut across the open field. How lucky it had not sprung up a few minutes earlier, Adam thought!

Gilbert shrugged his overcoat around him. ‘By God it's cold all of a sudden! Shall we go into the shed to talk?'

Adam nodded his agreement. In spite of the wind he was not cold; heat was still coursing through his body in waves, making his skin glow. But he had felt a slight tremor in Alicia's hand, still lying on his arm, and he was suddenly solicitous for her well-being.

The shed was now scarcely recognisable as a byre, equipped as it was with work benches, a couple of chairs and Annie's sewing machine, and littered tools, discarded parts and wing fabric.

‘I appreciate this is not the place for a full-scale business meeting,' Gilbert said, ‘but I will outline what I have in mind so that the two of you can discuss it before we have more formal talks. I backed your venture because I had faith in it and the display I have witnessed today has proved me right – the machine is a success. Now I would like to see things on a more permanent footing so that we can begin to plan confidently for the future.' He paused, looking from one to the other, then continued: ‘When the machine is perfected I want to put it into production. We have been building engines of one sort or another for three generations. Now I want to produce aeroplanes at Morse Motors – aeroplanes that will be recognised the world over as masterpieces of engineering. But I appreciate that the design – and the achievement – are yours. All I have done is provide backing – and build the engine to your specifications. Now what I propose is this. That we should set up a new company, incorporating the two of you together with myself and perhaps Lawrence and Alicia as directors.'

Adam glanced at Alicia. He had been expecting something of this sort; what he had not expected was that she would be included. But her expression remained serene, a small smile lifting the corner of her mouth. She had known about this, he realised, and she was in full agreement with it.

‘It sounds a very sound plan to me,' he said smoothly. ‘ What do you think, Max?'

Max shrugged. ‘I am a designer, not a businessman. I leave that side of things to you, Adam.'

‘You do not have to give me an answer now,' Gilbert said. ‘I realise you will want to think about it and talk it over. But I do urge you to realise the potential of what you have here. You are not a businessman you say, Max – and I dare say, truth to tell, neither is Adam – whilst I have at my disposal all the experience and expertise of finance and marketing as well as production facilities. Together we could take the world by storm with this aeroplane of yours. Alone … well, frankly I think you would soon find yourselves struggling.'

‘I agree,' Max said. ‘Though as you say, obviously Adam and I need time to discuss this together.'

‘Of course. Now as I told you I have another proposition. You have been living alone, Adam, since Max married. I suggest that whilst we are working closely on the production of the aeroplane you should move into Chewton Leigh House. You would be a great deal more comfortable than at the inn, besides being close to the shed and it would be a great deal easier for us to iron out any problems. What do you say?'

‘It's very civil of you, sir,' Adam said. He was surprised by the suggestion and he was not certain whether he liked the idea of surrendering his independence. But he could see the sense in it all the same and it did have a certain appeal. The room at the inn was poky and often tainted with the smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke which wafted up the stairs, the landlady's cooking was not always as appetising as it might have been and sometimes when the customers in the bar downstairs were rowdy it could be noisy – not the most congenial conditions for working or relaxing at the end of a hard day. In addition he missed Max's company and what he had taken easily in his stride when his friend was there to share it and joke about it became depressing and annoying now that he was alone.

‘You may need to think about that too,' Gilbert said.

‘But we shall be very disappointed if you refuse,' Alicia put in, and her cut-glass eyes left him in no doubt as to her meaning – for ‘
we
shall be disappointed' substitute ‘
I
shall be disappointed'. Once again, almost in spite of himself, he felt his quick response and a faint smile twisted his mouth. Sarah was the only woman he had been in love with and he loved her still. But Sarah was married to another man. Now here was the wealthy, charming and undeniably beautiful Miss Alicia Morse, toast of two counties, making him a tempting offer. Sometime, somehow, he had to burn Sarah out of his heart. Might he not just as well begin the exorcism now?

‘I am not a man to take a lot of time weighing pros and cons,' he said. ‘I am very grateful for the offer, sir, and I would like to take you up on it – for the time being at least.'

‘Good.' Gilbert smiled. ‘And if we are to be partners I suggest you drop the ‘‘sir''. I think it is high time you began addressing me as Gilbert.'

He was flying now almost every day when the weather allowed, hopping further, gaining height, practising the tricky landing technique which he had planned, even banking the machine to execute big uneven figures of eight over the test field. Max was always there to inspect the machine after he had put her through her paces and he tried to remain patient and interested as Max deliberated, even putting forward some suggestions of his own. But he was becoming less and less interested in design except as a means of keeping him in the air for now at last he had confirmed to himself what he had always known in his heart was true – all he really wanted to do was fly. The glorious sensation that assailed him every time his wheels left the ground intoxicated him; like a drug addict desperate for his next fix, from the moment he landed he longed only for the moment when he could take off again. He fretted and fumed over time spent working on modifications although he knew how necessary they were and days when the weather prevented him from flying were sheer torture.

Up there in the skies he could forget Sarah for a little while. Back on earth everything, even the tantalising Alicia, served only to remind him.

The day after that first momentous flight he had given notice to the landlord at the inn that he no longer required the room and the following week he had moved into Chewton Leigh House. The room which Gilbert had had prepared for him was in reality a small suite – bedroom, sitting-room and a dressing-room – and after the spartan conditions in which he and Max had lived at the inn it seemed the very height of luxury. Luxurious accommodation was not something Adam had been used to – or cared about very much but he looked forward to the evenings when dinner was over and the men retired to the library for Gilbert's customary brandy and cigars. The brandy was the finest old French cognac, the cigars panatellas which filled the library with a heady sweet aroma. But it was the conversation which Adam found most stimulating after a long day spent testing and refining in the company of Max.

Now that he had thrown the weight of his business empire behind their endeavours Gilbert's enthusiasm for the new venture was growing by the day. Good as his word he had formed the new company and was busy making plans to set up workshops adjoining the works and negotiating to buy the adjoining land so that tests could be carried out there. He was planning to transfer some of his most experienced engineers and craftsmen to the new project and had made tentative enquiries of his contacts in France to ascertain whether he might be able to persuade some of the experienced continentals to join the new team on a short contract basis at least. In Europe the French were still leaders in the race for the skies and their expertise would be invaluable. A carefully prepared statement had been issued to the press, the local newspapers had shouted the news that Morse Motors was moving into the new and exciting world of flying, and the national dailies, though more sceptical, had picked up the story and sent a reporter to Chewton Leigh to interview Gilbert about his plans.

Adam was slightly bemused by this turn of events. He and Max had scarcely looked beyond getting their first aeroplane into the sky; there had been no time for wondering where they would go or what they would do with it once their objective had been achieved. But Gilbert had set his mind to exploring all the possibilities and he outlined them one December evening to Adam, Lawrence and Hugh, home on leave from his regiment, over their customary brandy.

‘As I see it there are two directions we can take once we have established a good sound base. The first is to look at the possibilities of aircraft for commercial use.'

‘I don't quite follow you,' Lawrence said. Like Adam he was a little bemused but for different reasons. All his life he had known Morse Motors as manufacturers of engines; now with the planned expansion changing everything at the works he felt a little like a man who has started out for a quiet ride on a solidly plodding donkey only to find his mount had become a mettlesome stallion. Events were racing away from him and he felt disturbed and out of control. ‘ What sort of commercial use did you have in mind?'

‘Every sort,' Gilbert said expansively. ‘Think what a boon it would be to be able to airlift packages and mail direct from one given place to another! And eventually it won't only be correspondence and inanimate objects but human cargo too. When flying can be made safer and more comfortable there will be no shortage of passengers, mark my words.'

‘Do you really think so?' Lawrence puffed on his cigar looking doubtful.

‘I do indeed,' Gilbert confirmed. ‘I dare say the steam engine was once treated with the same scepticism. But your great grandfather didn't let that stop him. Our business has been built on looking to the future, Lawrence, and we would do well not to forget it.'

‘You mentioned a second use for aircraft,' Adam said, sipping his brandy. ‘What else did you have in mind?

‘Military reconnaissance,' Gilbert said.

In the startled silence that followed Hugh gave a short laugh.

‘Is that a dig at me, Father? You know reconnaissance has always been the job of the cavalry.'

‘Not entirely. Balloons have been used for the last hundred years to give men an aerial view of the enemy, as you are well aware. But balloons have to be tethered. What can be seen from them is limited. Now supposing an aircraft could actually fly far enough to scout out the lie of the land and what the enemy were up to and report back! Think what an advantage that would be to those planning strategy!'

The sense of the argument excited Adam. Gilbert was right – a bird's eye view of an opposing army would be a tremendous advantage in time of war. But Hugh, the dedicated cavalry officer, remained unconvinced.

‘The noise would frighten the horses,' he said flatly.

‘Perhaps the horses will have to get used to it,' Gilbert suggested. ‘I have thought about it a great deal and I am convinced that supremacy in the air will play a great part in the wars of the future.'

Hugh laughed again, shaking his head in frank disbelief.

‘You will be telling us next that one day wars will be fought in the air instead of on the ground or the seas.'

‘I believe that is a possibility,' Gilbert replied simply.

‘But it is up to us to convince the government of it. Do you know they set aside only £5000 to aeronautics this year?'

‘£5000 too much if you ask me,' Hugh said rudely. His years at Sandhurst and with his regiment had served only to make his cavalier attitude more apparent – in the officers' mess he was regarded as a wag, the master of the sharp put-down, and the adoration of his men had increased his natural self-confidence so that it now verged on conceit.

‘That is your opinion, Hugh, and I dare say you are entitled to it,' Gilbert said equably. ‘It is not however the view of the German government. Whilst we had to be content with our miserly £5000 they were investing £400 000 for the development of aeronautics.'