The Flyer (37 page)

‘Are things that bad?’

‘I can’t tell you the stories we’ve heard from the wounded. Thousands of men forced to attack through mud that came up to their thighs, terrified of being sucked down while the Germans shot them to pieces with their machine guns.’

She looked washed out, William thought. She was under as much strain as they were.

‘Yes, we’ve seen some of it ourselves,’ Christopher said as he poured her a glass of champagne. His hand trembled and some of it splashed onto the table, but he laughed it off. ‘I seem to have got the shakes. Can’t get rid of it. Come on, Liz, drink up. You too, William. We’ve come here to forget about the war for a little while. We ought to have some fun.’

Elizabeth hesitated, but then picked up her glass and resolutely emptied it.

‘That’s the ticket,’ Christopher said, and then he and William followed suit and he filled their glasses again.

After that they did their best to pretend there was no war, and it seemed that everyone in the club was intent on doing the same thing. They were determined to have fun, to drink and eat and dance as if it were the last evening in their lives, and underneath it all they knew that for any one of them it might well be. Couples could be seen kissing in dark corners. Laughter and music drowned out any real attempt at conversation, even if there had been anybody who wanted to talk.       

At the squadron’s table, whisky and champagne flowed ceaselessly. Seats were found for the two French girls, and their over-eager suitors insisted they join them for supper. Some of the men asked Margaret to dance and she was only too pleased to oblige. William watched her on the dance floor, laughing out loud at some outrageous flattery, while Henry looked on trying to give the impression that he didn’t mind. When she returned he was attentive, holding out her chair, making sure her glass was filled, his adoring eyes stuck to her like glue, and yet a minute later she would be whisked away again by one of the others. They were all drunk, except Henry. Though he drank as much as anyone, while the others became more boisterous, Henry became increasingly introverted and sullen.

Christopher encouraged Elizabeth to dance with Hemming and the others, and he took his turn with the French girls. William danced with them too and also with Margaret, and he drank whatever was poured into his glass, but he avoided Elizabeth. He watched her whenever he thought nobody would notice, and longed to be somewhere quiet with her where they could be alone. Sometimes their eyes collided, and for an instant they looked at one another with a kind of helpless, desperate intensity.

In the end their avoidance of one another became too obvious to go unnoticed. As Christopher refilled their glasses he followed William’s gaze towards the dance floor where Elizabeth was dancing with Hemming.

‘She’s wonderful isn’t she?’ Christopher said, his eyes glassy with drink.

‘Yes, she is.’

‘Do you know, I don’t think I’ve seen you two dance together yet. You’d better ask her or she’ll think there’s something wrong.’

‘I haven’t had a chance,’ William said. ‘Somebody always beats me to it.’

‘Well here’s your chance. Hemming’s had enough I think.’

The tune ended and Hemming drunkenly stumbled, then apologised profusely as Elizabeth laughed and led him towards the table.

‘What are you waiting for?’ Christopher urged.

William got up to meet her. She glanced quickly at Christopher. ‘Can I have the next dance?’ William asked.

‘Of course.’

As the band began to play another tune he put his arm around her.  

‘I thought you were going to ignore me all evening,’ Elizabeth said.

‘It wasn’t because I wanted to.’

‘I know.’ They began to dance, moving easily among the other couples.

‘This was the first tune we ever danced to,’ Elizabeth said. ‘Do you remember?’

He realised that she was right. He could picture the hotel, the light spilling into the lane outside. He looked into her eyes. He remembered kissing her and going to the barn where they made love for the first time. He knew without asking that she remembered too. For a little while they didn’t speak. He drew her closer, wishing the dance would never end. Nothing existed except the two of them.

William glanced towards the table and saw Christopher watching them. His expression was unfathomable, and then he smiled and raised his glass in a toast.

‘How long has he been shaking like that?’ Elizabeth asked.

‘Not long. He’s under a lot of strain.’

‘He looks as if the life is being drawn out of him little by little.’ She sounded despairing. ‘You all do.’

‘We had a bad fight yesterday. We ran into some Albatrosses. Lots of them. They surprised us and we lost five of our men. Christopher thinks it was a trap and he blames himself.’

Her eyes widened. ‘Is it true?’

‘That he’s to blame? No. He’s a good CO and a good pilot. But I think his nerves have just about had it.’

They danced in silence, but now Elizabeth seemed lost in her own thoughts. She clung to him, but wouldn’t look at him. Finally, when the music ended, she met his eyes with a look of utter bleakness.

‘You’re going to be killed,’ she said despairingly. ‘You’re all going to be killed.’

*****

It was very late when Elizabeth and Christopher returned to the hotel. They left the others at the club, and when Elizabeth managed to get Christopher to his room, he sat on the edge of the bed and gazed at her blearily. He held out his hand to her and she sat beside him. He put his arm around her shoulder and kissed the top of her head. ‘I love you, Liz.’

She smiled. ‘And I love you.’

He leaned back and kicked off his shoes. ‘I just want to sit here with you quietly. Is that alright?’

‘Yes, of course.’ She leaned against him. She could hear his heart beat as he stroked her hair. She knew he didn’t love her really. He needed her and she was there for him.

After a while he fell asleep, and she got up and covered him then went through to the other room. She didn’t feel like drinking any more. Instead she sat alone in the darkness.

*****

Henry left the club with Margaret, who was drunk. She said goodbye to the others one by one and gave them each a kiss as if they were boys lining up to be tucked into bed, and she their nurse. She became teary.

‘Look after yourselves, all of you,’ she said, engulfed by a wave of affection that even included the two French girls.

When they were outside, Henry took her arm. ‘Can you walk alright?’ he asked her, sounding concerned. ‘I could try to find a taxi if you like.’

‘Don’t worry, it isn’t far. Besides, I’ve got you to help me haven’t I?’ She breathed deeply and seemed to sober up a little. As they walked through the streets she peered at Henry’s grim expression. ‘Are you annoyed with me, Henry?’

‘What? Good lord, no! Of course not! If I’m annoyed it’s with those other fellows. It’s intolerable that they behaved the way they did towards you. I’ll speak to them when we get back about showing proper respect to a lady.’

She wondered what they’d done that had upset him. Whatever it was, she hadn’t noticed. The fresh air was clearing her head a little. The letters Henry had written to her were sweet. He had proclaimed his feelings in lush prose that he probably imagined was poetic. She didn’t mind though, it made her blush sometimes to think that he obviously thought of her as virtuous and innocent.

‘What is it like where you live?’ she asked.

‘It’s beautiful, actually. It’s called Pitsford House, in Northamptonshire. I can’t wait to show it to you.’

‘What does your father do?’ she asked, wondering when she’d agreed to go to Northampton with him.

‘He’s in parliament. He spends a lot of time in London of course, but my mother lives at Pitsford quite a lot. I expect she’ll be very pleased to have another lady for company.’

‘Another lady?’

‘When we’re married.’ He stopped and turned towards her, his face serious. ‘I expect you know I’m in love with you. I didn’t mean to ask you like this, but I can’t stand it seeing those other fellows behaving the way they were. They wouldn’t do it if we were engaged. Please say you’ll think about it, Margaret.’

‘Oh,’ she said, too surprised too think how else to respond. She glimpsed a figure along the street, and with relief saw her opportunity to avoid Henry’s proposal. ‘Look, there’s William! It is you, isn’t it?’

‘Hello,’ William said as he came upon them. He smiled, looking curiously at them both as Margaret eagerly took his arm.

‘We may as well all walk together,’ she said.

‘Yes alright,’ he agreed, though he noticed Henry’s scowl of displeasure.

At the hospital gates they said goodnight to Margaret. She kissed them both and told them to be careful. Tears sprang to her eyes.

When she had gone, William and Henry continued to the hotel. William lit a cigarette and offered one to Henry, though Henry declined brusquely.

‘I hope I didn’t interrupt anything just then,’ William said.

‘As a matter of fact you did. I was about to ask Margaret to marry me.’

William wondered why Henry sounded so put out, though when he thought about the way Margaret had grabbed his arm, he guessed what had happened.

When they reached the hotel, Henry said he was going to find the clerk. There was a light on in the bar beside the reception desk and William imagined Henry intended to drown his sorrows. ‘Goodnight,’ he said.

Henry muttered something in a surly tone and went off.

To hell with him then, William thought.

*****

Elizabeth heard a door open in the corridor. She got up and went through to the bedroom. Christopher was asleep. She undressed and put on her nightgown. For once he was sleeping peacefully. Perhaps it was because he’d had so much to drink.

She went back to the other room and sat by the window. In a few hours it would be light. She would go back to the hospital and the wounded, and Christopher and the others would go back to their aerodrome. She wondered if William was asleep. She wanted to see him. She thought about the terrible thing she’d said to him earlier and wanted to explain that she hadn’t meant it.

She slipped outside and stood at his door. She raised her hand to knock but then dropped it again. Why was she there? Was she thinking of William or was she thinking of herself?

Along the corridor a door opened from the stairs and Henry appeared. He paused at his door, searching in his pocket for his key and then he looked up and their eyes met. Neither of them spoke, and then Elizabeth returned to Christopher’s room. ‘Goodnight,’ she said at the door, and Henry muttered some reply.

As she took off her robe to get into bed, Christopher spoke to her. ‘There you are. I woke up and you weren’t here.’

‘I couldn’t sleep.’

She lay down and put her head against his chest.

CHAPTER 36

Outside, the sky was beginning to lighten. The street shone wetly in the rain and wind rattled the windows. There would be no flying today, William thought. He was already dressed.

After he left his room, William waited in the hotel lobby for the others. Henry was the first to appear, and when he saw William he strode towards him.

‘You’ve got a damned nerve!’ he said accusingly. ‘I thought my brother was meant to be your friend!’

‘What are you talking about, Henry?’ William said, completely taken aback

‘I saw Elizabeth coming from your room last night!’

‘What on earth are you talking about?’

‘Don’t try to deny it, Reynolds. I know what I saw.’

Behind them, Christopher came down the stairs. William lowered his voice. ‘Keep your voice down unless you want the whole place to hear you,’ he warned. ‘Whatever you think you saw, you’re mistaken, and I’d advise you to keep it to yourself. If you say anything to Christopher, you’ll be doing more harm than good. Do you understand?’

‘Do you think I was intending to tell him?’ Henry said with scathing astonishment. ‘Clearly you think nothing of Elizabeth at all other than as some plaything for your own revolting desires, otherwise you wouldn’t risk her reputation like this. If you’ve any shred of decency you won’t so much as look at her ever again, otherwise I promise you’ll have me to answer to.’

Though William still had no idea where Henry had got the idea that Elizabeth had visited his room, there was no time to respond. As Christopher approached, William did his best to look as if nothing was wrong.

‘Good morning,’ Christopher said. ‘Any sign of the others?’

‘Not yet,’ William replied. ‘We were just wondering whether one of us should go and fetch them.’

Christopher looked at them both as if he detected some hidden undercurrent. Abruptly Henry turned away.

‘I’ll go and see where they are,’ he muttered.

As Henry strode off, Christopher watched his brother with a concerned expression. ‘Is there anything I ought to know about?’ he asked. ‘Henry seems a bit irritable.’

‘It’s alright,’ William assured him. ‘I think I might have annoyed him, that’s all. He walked Margaret back to the hospital last night and I think I might have happened along at the wrong moment.’

‘Oh, I see.’ Christopher frowned. ‘I think he’s quite smitten, isn’t he?’

‘He does seem to like her.’

‘Unfortunately, I’m not sure his feelings are entirely reciprocated, though Henry appears determined not to acknowledge the fact.’ Christopher stared after his brother with a contemplative, serious expression, and then he looked at William and seemed to snap out of whatever he was thinking. He took out his cigarette case and offered one to William.

‘I don’t like the look of that weather.’

‘No,’ William agreed. ‘It doesn’t look as if it’s going to clear up very quickly either.’

‘Well, I don’t suppose anyone will mind very much.’

During the drive back to the chateau, the men were quiet. They seemed to sense unspoken tensions, which wasn’t helped by Henry’s obvious black mood.

Eventually, Hemming made a comment. ‘You’ve got the devil of an expression, you know. If I’d left that club last night with Margaret, I’m sure I wouldn’t have such a long face.’

‘It’s Miss Weston to you!’ Henry snapped.

‘Actually, Margaret insisted that I call her by her first name,’ Hemming said, sounding miffed.

‘I think you ought to leave it, old man,’ one of the others muttered.

After that they drove in uncomfortable silence.

By the time they got back the weather had worsened, and it was clear there would be no flying at all that day. The men passed the time in the mess or else went to their rooms. William read Proust, though he couldn’t concentrate at all. He kept thinking about Henry’s baseless accusation, and was worried that he would say something to Christopher. In Christopher’s current state of mind he couldn’t imagine what effect it would have on him. In the end, William went to Christopher’s office, where he found him standing at the window gazing outside at the slanting rain.

‘Have you got a minute?’ William asked.

‘Yes of course, come in. Actually I’m glad you’re here, I want to talk to you. Would you like a drink?’

‘Yes, alright, thanks.’ He watched Christopher pour a single glass. ‘Aren’t you having one?’

‘No, I don’t think I will at the moment.’ He gave William his glass and took out his cigarettes. ‘I’ve just heard they’ve decided to renew the attack at Passchendaele.’

‘When?’

‘Tomorrow. I’m going to send four men to St Omer tomorrow to pick up some new planes. We’ll be getting some new pilots over the next few days. I think Henry can go.’

‘Who’s going to stay behind?’

‘Myself, you, and I thought Hemming.’

‘Alright.’

‘Apparently the Huns have replaced the balloon you shot down. HQ want us to do the job again, I’m afraid. Hemming would be a good man to go with you, wouldn’t he?’

‘Yes, he knows how to keep a cool head.’

‘That’s what I thought.’

‘Will you be coming?’

Christopher gazed out of the window again for a moment before replying. ‘Yes.’

He didn’t seem to have anything else to add and William saw his chance to talk about his exchange with Henry earlier. ‘Christopher,’ he began. ‘When you came downstairs this morning, did you overhear Henry and I talking?’

Christopher held up a hand to stop him. ‘Before you go on, there’s something you ought to know. I’m going to tell Henry this later too, by the way. The fact is, I’m breaking off my engagement with Liz. I was writing to her before you came in, actually.’ He gestured towards a letter on his desk.

‘So you did hear.’

‘Not really, no. But I gathered something was wrong so I spoke to Henry after we got back.’

‘What did he tell you?’ William demanded. ‘Actually you don’t have to say anything. The point is I don’t know where he got the idea. It isn’t true.’

‘I know it isn’t,’ Christopher said calmly. ‘My decision has nothing to do with whatever Henry mistakenly thinks he saw. I should have done this some time ago. We’re meant to learn by our mistakes, aren’t we? I can’t change what happened in the past, but I can at least try to make amends.’ He held out his hand. ‘I want you to know that I think of you as my friend, William. I always will.’

‘I’m glad.’

‘I hope there are no hard feelings between us?’

‘Of course not.’

‘Good. Now, I’m afraid I have a few things I must get finished, if that’s alright. The burden of being a CO, and all that. I’ll see you at dinner.’

*****

That evening in the mess, Christopher announced that the attack at Passchendaele was to be renewed and that he wanted Henry and the others, except Hemming, to fetch some new machines from St Omer.

During the meal he picked at his food and drank very little. Now and then he managed the trace of a smile when somebody said something that caused the others to laugh uproariously. William worried about him. Though he seemed to have stopped shaking there was a kind of remoteness about him that was disquieting. Eventually, after the remains of their main course were cleared away, Christopher folded his napkin and stood up.

‘I think I might forgo pudding. There are some things I must attend to. Paperwork and so on.’ He looked around at table at them all, as if there was something more he wanted to say. The men waited uncertainly as the silence lengthened, but in the end he offered a slight smile. ‘I suppose I just want to wish you all luck, gentlemen. Goodnight.’

A chorus of goodnights followed him, and then at the door he paused and looked directly at William and gave a slight nod before he left the room. When he was gone, an uneasy silence lingered. The men glanced at one another with questioning, puzzled expressions.

After a moment William got up. He had a sudden feeling that something was wrong. Without a word he strode to the door.

‘Where are you going?’ Henry demanded. William ignored him, but Henry got up and followed him. ‘I asked you a question.’

The door to Christopher’s office was closed and when William knocked there was no answer. ‘Christopher!’ He tried the handle and found it was locked.

‘Wait a minute, damn you!’ Henry said coming up behind him and catching his arm. ‘Can’t you leave him alone? I should have thought you’ve done enough.’

‘Let go!’ William said.

‘Dammit Reynolds…’

William hit him, and Henry staggered backwards just as the others came to see what the trouble was. Ignoring them all, William stood back and kicked at the door, and as the wood splintered and gave way the sound of a gun shot came from inside.

Christopher lay on the floor, a pistol close to his outstretched hand. A dark pool of blood was soaking into the carpet as it pumped from a wound underneath his chin. His foot twitched convulsively and a bubbling sound came from his frothing lips.

‘He’s alive,’ William said as he quickly took off his jacket and then tore his shirt to make a pressure bandage. He turned to the others, who’d followed him inside, and who now stood looking on in horror.

‘Fetch a car!’ William said. ‘Hurry!’

As somebody ran from the room, Henry went to Christopher’s desk, where he picked up sheet of paper. He read what was written on it and then stared at William accusingly before crumpling the note and putting in his pocket.

‘He must have been cleaning his gun,’ he said.