Wings (49 page)

She told him about the crash then on the way home, and she and her father discussed what might have caused the fire in the engines, but it was anyone's guess. Desmond had brought back what was left of the Plane, and was hoping they could learn more about what went wrong. But it was unlikely they would find much, the explosion had been so powerful.

“You were damn lucky,” her father said, shaking his head, as she flew his plane for him. “You could have been killed on the way down. You could have been blown to bits, or never found an island to light on.”

“I know,” she said sadly. But it still hadn't helped Billy. She couldn't get over that. She knew she'd never forget him and then as she helped her father put the plane in the hangar that night, he offered her a job at the airport. He said he could use some help with cargo and mail runs, especially now that every able-bodied young boy would be enlisting. Most of his pilots were older than that, but still there was room for her, and he'd love to have her, he said with a shy smile. “Unless you're going to be doing a lot of advertisements for tooth powder and cars.” They both laughed at that one.

“I don't think so, Dad. I think I've had enough of all that to last me a lifetime.” She wasn't even sure she wanted to do air shows, not after Chris died. She just wanted to fly, nice easy runs, or even long ones.

“Well, I'd love to have you. Think about it, Cass.”

“I will, Dad. I'm honored.”

He drove them home after that, in his truck, and her sisters and their families were waiting for them at the house. It was New Year's Eve, and they had never looked better to her than at that moment. Everyone cried and hugged, and screamed, and the kids ran around like crazy. They all seemed to have grown, and Annabelle and Humphrey looked cuter than ever. It was a scene she had never thought she'd see again, and she broke down and sobbed as her sisters held her. She only wished that Chris could have been there… and Billy… and Nick. There were too many people missing now, but she was there. And they thanked God that night for His blessings.

21

T
he week after New Year's, Cassie started helping her father at the airport again. But before that, he took her to see an attorney in Chicago. He was an expensive one, with a good reputation, but her father said that she couldn't afford to see anyone less than that if she was going to defend herself against Desmond Williams.

She explained her situation to him, and he advised her that she had nothing to worry about. There wasn't a judge or a jury in the world who would feel that she hadn't fulfilled her contract in good faith, and at great risk and personal expense to herself. “No one's going to take money from you, or put you in jail, or force you to fly for him again. The man sounds like a monster.”

“And that brings up another matter,” her father said pointedly. The divorce. That was more complicated, but not impossible by any means. It would take time, but it would be easy to say that their marriage had not survived the trauma of her ordeal, and surely no one would contest that. It would be even easier to accuse him of adultery and fraud. And the attorney intended to wave those flags at him. And he was sure he would get Desmond's full cooperation.

He told her to go home, and not to worry about it, and three weeks later some papers arrived for her to sign to set the wheels in motion. And it was shortly after that that Desmond called her.

”How are you feeling, Cass?”

“Why?”

“It's a perfectly reasonable question.” He sounded very pleasant but she knew him better than that. He wanted something. She thought maybe he had called to argue about the divorce, but she couldn't imagine why he'd want to. He didn't want to be married to her any more than she wanted to be married to him. And she wasn't asking for money. Much to her surprise, he had sent her the full amount he owed her for the Pacific tour, even though she hadn't completed it, after her lawyer contacted him and pointed out that trying to shortchange her would look very bad to the American public after all she'd been through. Desmond had been furious, but the check for one hundred and fifty thousand was safely put away in her bank account, and her father was well pleased that it was. She had more than earned it.

“I just thought you might like to do a little press conference sometime… you know… tell the world what happened.” She had planned to, at first, just once, but in the meantime, she'd decided against it. Her career as a movie star was over.

“They heard it all from the Department of the Navy, after they rescued me. There's nothing else to say. Do you really think they want to know how Billy died in my arms, or about my dysentery? I don't think so.”

“You can leave those parts out.”

“No, I can't. And I have nothing to say. I did it. We went down. I was lucky enough to come back, unlike Billy, unlike Noonan, unlike Earhart, unlike a lot of fools like us. I'm here, and I don't want to talk about it anymore. It's over, Desmond. It's history. Find someone else you can mold into a movie star. Maybe Nancy.”

“You were good at it,” he said nostalgically, ‘the best.”

“I cared about you,” she said sadly. “I loved you,” she said very softly, but there was no one to love there.

“I'm sorry if you were disappointed,” he said pointedly. They were strangers again. They had come full circle. And then he realized that pushing her was pointless. “Let me know if you change your mind. You can have a great career if you ever get serious about it,” he said, and she smiled. It had gotten as serious as it gets, and miraculously she'd still survived it.

“Don't count on it.” She knew he hated people like her. In his mind, she was a quitter. But she didn't give a damn what he thought now.

“Good-bye, Cassie.” End of a career, end of a marriage. End of a nightmare.

They hung up and he never called her again. Her lawyer told her that Mr. Williams had agreed to the divorce, and even offered a small settlement if she would go to Reno. She didn't accept the money, she'd made enough flying for him, but she went to Reno in March for
six
weeks, and when she came back, she was free again. And predictably, Desmond released a statement to the press afterward that she had been so traumatized by her experience in the Pacific, that continuing their marriage had become impossible for her, and she was living “in seclusion with her parents.”

“It makes me sound like a mental case,” she complained.

“So what?” her father said. “You're rid of him forever. Good riddance.” The press had called a few times after that, and she always refused to talk to them or see them. They had written about her sympathetically, but they didn't pursue her for long. As much as they had loved her before the tour, they had other fish to fry now.

She certainly didn't miss them or Desmond. But she did miss her friends. With Billy gone, the airport was very quiet for her. She was so used to flying with him day after day, that it was odd now to be there without him. And by April, when she got back from Reno, all the young men she knew had either been drafted or enlisted. Even two of her brothers-in-law had gone, although Colleen's husband had flat feet and bad eyes and was 4-F and had
stayed
. But her two oldest
sisters
and their children were around the house most of the time now. And that spring, Annabelle and Humphrey's parents were killed in a bombing attack on London. Colleen and her husband had decided to adopt them. And thinking about it, Cassie almost wished that she could have them.

They had news from Nick now and then, but not very often. He was still in England, flying fighter raids now with a vengeance. And killing as many Germans as he could shoot out of the skies, “just like the old days.” He was old for those games at forty-one, but with America in the war now, he had full military status in the American Army. He also didn't get leaves back to the States anymore. Not in wartime. Cassie knew that he was still at Hornchurch. He never wrote to her, only to her father. She had never written and told him of Desmond's betrayal and her divorce, and she still wasn't sure what to tell him, or if he'd care. She didn't know if her father had said anything, but she doubted it. Pat wasn't much at writing letters, or at discussing other people's business. Like all men, they discussed world events and politics. But she felt that one of these days, she ought to tell Nick herself what had happened. The question was when and how. She had to assume by now though that if Nick had still been interested in her, he'd have written. She hadn't seen him in almost a year now. And God only knew what he was thinking.

She didn't go out on dates, just with friends, or her sisters. And she worked hard for her father, at the airport. It was almost enough of a life for her, although she had to admit that she missed the thrill of flying Desmond's exotic planes now and then. But you couldn't have everything, and she liked her life just the way it was now. The press had started to forget her, they seldom called now, without Desmond prodding them, and she got an occasional request for endorsements, which she declined. It was a quiet life, and her father worried about her sometimes, and said as much to Oona.

“She's been through a lot, you know,” he said. They all had.

“She's a strong girl,” her mother said fondly, “she'll be all right.” She always was. She was just quiet sometimes, and lonely without the people she'd grown up with. Her brother, Nick, Bobby, even Billy, who had come a little later. But she missed them, and the camaraderie they had all shared in different ways. Now she was just another pilot flying to Chicago and Cleveland, but it felt good to be with her family again. It brought her a great deal of comfort.

In August, she got a phone call that amazed her. Her father took the call, and handed it to her with a blasé look. He didn't even recognize the name, which made her want to shriek at him. Some things never changed. It was Jackie Cochran.

“Are you serious?” She had thought he was kidding at first. She had just come in from a run to Las Vegas. It was hotter than hell. But when she got on the phone, Jackie Cochran said she wanted to meet with her if possible. She said she'd always admired her, and she asked her to come to New York to see her, if she could spare the time. “Sure,” Cassie agreed, jotting down the pertinent details. She had agreed to fly there two days later. She had nothing else to do, since it was her day off. And maybe she could even do a little shopping, since she had her money from the tour in the bank, and had never spent a penny. The funny thing was she had wanted to meet Jackie Cochran for ages, but once she got settled at home again, she got lazy and never did anything about it.

She was thinking about inviting her mother to come
to
New York with her, but then she decided to go alone. She had no idea what Jackie Cochran would want, but she thought it might be something her mother would disapprove of.

And as it turned out, it was something that fascinated Cassie. She had admitted readily that she was bored at home, and eager for some more exciting flying. Eight months after she had been rescued in the Pacific, she was ready to spread her wings again and do something a little more exciting. And what Jackie Cochran had in mind was right up her alley.

Jackie wanted Cassie to take charge of forming a small group of experienced women pilots under the Army Air Force Flying Training Command, to ferry planes to wherever they were needed in the war, for the moment. The women involved would fly as civilian pilots but have uniforms and honorary rank. Cassie was to start as a captain. There was another women's air corps too, the WAFS, Women's Auxiliary Flying Squadron, if she preferred it, being organized for domestic ferrying by Nancy Harkness Love, another extraordinary female pilot. But Cassie liked the idea of ferrying planes into England right past the Germans. She knew her parents were going to be upset if she left home again, but this was something she believed in. It served a purpose, it wasn't frivolous or self-serving, like her Pacific tour, which just made money for a lot of greedy people. This was something she could do for her country, and if she died… she was prepared to accept that. So had Chris… so had Billy… sadly, so had Bobby Strong by then. He had been killed six weeks after he enlisted. Peggy was a widow again, with four children now. Life was never simple.

The WAFS would begin training in September, for eight weeks in New Jersey, but she could hardly wait. It was time for her to be challenged again and for the first time, she would be flying with other women. She had never had the opportunity to do that.

Jackie Cochran took her to dinner that night at ‘21’ and they talked about their plans. Cassie couldn't remember anything she had wanted to do more, not even the world tour when Desmond had first asked her. This was so different.

It was exactly what she wanted and what she'd been waiting for. For Cassie it was time to move on now. She was still smiling when she flew home the next day, thinking about it.

Her father was at the airport when she got in; he was singing to himself, and filing some papers in his office. She hated to ruin his mood, and she decided to wait and tell him after dinner.

“How was New York?”

“Great,” she beamed at him.

“Oh oh. Do I smell romance in the air?” He smelled happiness, but not romance. Airplanes, but not boys. She was right hack to where she'd been in the beginning. In love with flying.

“Nope. No romance,” she smiled mysteriously. She was twenty-three years old and divorced, and she felt free and independent. And she was about to do exactly what she wanted.

She could hardly contain herself until that night after dinner, and when she told her parents, they stared at her in disbelief.

“Here we go again,” fat looked angry even before she explained it. “You want to do what now?” She had been swimming upstream all her life. It was nothing new for them, or to Cassie.

“I want to join… I did join the Army's Flying Training Command,” she said happily, and then she explained it to them.

“Wait a minute. You're going to be flying bombers to England? Do you know how heavy and hard to manage those are?”