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‘I don’t know why I’m asking,’ Lottie said, breaking the silence. ‘But have you given any thought to what you might wear to the wedding?’
‘Oh, I’ve brought a warm woollen suit that belonged to Mummy. That will do, I suppose.’
Lottie shook her head in frustration. I pressed on.
‘But it’s winter, Lottie! And it’s very smart, too. Truly it is.’
‘But it’s your wedding day, Juliet. I can’t understand why you’re keeping it so simple.’
I began to play with a tassel on Lottie’s shawl.
‘Charles and I agreed – no fuss. And your Ma was relieved on the “no fuss” front, too. There might be a war. It doesn’t do for the big house to start being extravagant in front of the tenants. And I’ve got no one to invite, no one at all. I’d much rather spend Pa’s money on a new aircraft …’ I sat up. ‘Oh, did I tell you? There’s this fabulous little monoplane coming out soon and it’s …’ Noticing Lottie glance down at her very slightly swollen belly, I stopped. ‘Well anyway, that’s just a bit of a dream. But what about you.’ I tried to buoy her up. ‘What will you wear?’
She shrugged, disconsolate.
‘I know!’ I said, not waiting for an answer. ‘You should wear your cream cashmere two-piece. The one I bought in you in Paris.’
Lottie shook her head.
‘I was going to. But Katie can’t do the zip up anymore. And anyway, I want you to wear it.’
‘Me! But … look at my hands, Lottie! I’ll never get them clean enough to wear cream.’
‘I thought of that. I’ve told Katie to scrub them. No buts. It’s been laid out on the end of your bed. I knew you wouldn’t have brought anything suitable.’ She glanced at my clothes. ‘Just look at you, Juliet. I mean to say, have you even brought any decent clothes? You do know there’s a party here tomorrow evening? In your honour, I might add.’
I went back to the tassel.
‘I managed to pack a few bits and bobs. But truly, Lottie, it’s difficult to fit anything in the old Moth, what with the tools I carry and so on …’ My voice petered out.
Lottie wasn’t listening. She stirred herself sufficiently to leave the comfort of the chaise and cross to the fireplace to ring the bell. Katie appeared.
‘Katie, please escort Miss Caron to her room – via my room. Do not allow her to deviate. Wash her hands and help her to pick out a dress for dinner this evening, and for tomorrow evening, too. And when she finally steps out of the dreadful clothes she’s wearing, wash them and when she’s not looking, give them to the poor, although the poor probably won’t want them so you might as well burn them.’
‘Lottie!’
Katie tried to hide a smile. I made tracks towards the door.
‘Oh, and Katie …’ Lottie added, forcing Katie to pause at the door.
‘Yes, Ma’am?’
‘Tomorrow’s dress should be something stunning for Miss Caron. And don’t forget to take that tweed suit I pointed out for yourself, too. I don’t need it anymore and it will be nice for you to wear it over Christmas …’
Katie’s eyes widened.
‘Thank you ever so much, Ma’am.’
Lottie batted us off, but as we left the room, I took a moment to look at Lottie from the doorway. She had turned to face the moon shadows again. There was something in the way her head dropped and in the way her right hand was reaching to her cheek that told me she was crying. I wanted to rush her, to hold her and tell her everything was going to be all right. But if I did, Lottie would want to discuss the inevitable – her inevitable – a topic we had been skirting around all day, the topic Charles wanted to discuss when I arrived. The topic of a baby – and a promise, too. And if we did that, I wasn’t entirely sure that my previous resolve to help my friend would hold true, and the problem was, it had to.
Instead, I grabbed my boots, flying helmet, coat and gloves from the hallway, followed Katie to Lottie’s room and asked her to lay out a couple of evening dresses – but not to worry too much about what she found, any old thing would do.
Chapter 6 (#ulink_e0d18ffe-b1e3-59f9-bdfc-c0c9b3744a5c)
Juliet
The compass and the coddiwompler
18 December 1938
Dear Juliet
We said our goodbyes without arranging a time or date for the flight you offered me. Is today too soon? I can get fuel if necessary. I’ll wait at the barn at one p.m. in the hope you can make it.
Yours,
E. Nancarrow
Edward’s letter, handed to me by Katie a little after breakfast, caught me by surprise. I would usually run to Lottie with this kind of thing, but I didn’t tell her about the letter because … well, because I didn’t want anyone to know. I spent the morning walking the grounds with Lottie pretending E. Nancarrow did not exist, but later, with Charles busy paying Christmas good tidings to tenant farmers (including Jessops who would receive extra cider this Christmas for his inconvenience with the cows) and with Lottie resting, I felt restless and bored. Persuading myself that I really should go and make sure the aircraft was safe and sound, I pulled my flying jacket over a shrunken Argyle jumper of my father’s and tucked Oxford bag trousers into my flying boots before striding out and heading down the road. This Edward Nancarrow chap may well have been what might generally be regarded as quite a dish, but still, summoning me to take him flying when he had behaved so dismissively the day before really was taking the biscuit.
No, I would go to the barn and explain that I could not fly today, but as a woman of my word I would take him flying at some point that week – but at my convenience, in a day or so perhaps, weather permitting.
When I arrived at the barn Edward was already there, sitting on a hay bale and engrossed in a literary supplement – The Beano. I stood in the doorway and watched him. He tittered to himself while reading, seemingly a different man from yesterday – a happy-go-lucky, relaxed man. I coughed to attract attention and hoped that the midday winter sun backlighting me in the doorway would highlight the copper (my mother called it red) hair in just the right way. He looked up and smiled.
‘Hello, there,’ he said, putting the comic down before making his way around the wing and stepping towards me. His greeting had the casual air of an old friend about it.
Who was this new man with his relaxed airs?
Whoever he was he was dressed in layers of warm clothes.
Ready for flying, no doubt.
The presumption!
‘I thought I’d check the aircraft over for you,’ he said. ‘Make sure she survived the night. She seems perfectly fine, though – not a cow scratch in sight!’
Humour, now? I didn’t smile but sniffed out a kind of thank you. He followed me around the aircraft as I checked her over for myself.
‘You got my note, then?’ he asked.
I paused by the propeller and looked him in the face. ‘Note?’
His expression was perfection – there is nothing more satisfying than witnessing the sudden onset of self-doubt in an overly-confident man.
‘Yes, note,’ he repeated. ‘I delivered it to Lanyon myself, this morning. I asked the maid to take it to you directly.’
I shook my head before unclipping the stowage door. I removed my tool bag and a spare set of overalls and dropped them onto the barn floor.
‘I received no note this morning.’ I glanced up at him again, pulling the overalls on over my flying boots. ‘What did it say?’
‘Say?’ Edward was rubbing his temple now.
‘Yes. The note?’
He considered this.
‘Well, it, er … it …’
I rummaged unnecessarily in the bag before taking out a spanner, stood to my full height – all five foot five inches – and looked up at him.
‘It said that I’d …’ He glanced around the barn, still considering his next sentence.
‘That you’d?’
‘Well, that I’d be here – waiting for you – in case you were free to take me flying this afternoon. You did offer. I’m sure you did.’
I walked around to the engine housing and lifted the casing away.
He followed me.
‘Pass me my tool bag, would you?’
He sighed, picked up the bag and joined me by the engine. I took an oil-stained scarf out of the bag and tied my hair back before finding another rag to check the oil.
‘So, how about it?’ he said, watching me.
‘How about what?’
‘The flight you offered – my flight. How about it?’
I paused to look at him.
‘Today?’ I asked. ‘Right now?’
‘Yes.’
I shook my head and returned to the engine. ‘That’s not possible. Today is a day for essential maintenance. She was a bit sticky in the rudder on the way down and I want to sort it out.’
‘You do?’ he said, his voice playful. ‘You need to sort it out? You’re doing the maintenance?’
Not this again.
‘Yes, Mr Nancarrow. I’m doing the maintenance.’
‘But, how …?’
‘My father wouldn’t allow me to fly solo until I knew how to fix her. He’d say, “There’s absolutely no point gallivanting off around the countryside if you can’t fix your own kite, you know, Juliet, no point at all!” I know exactly what I’m doing, but if you aren’t happy with that state of affairs then I suggest you find someone else to take you flying – a man, perhaps. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m very busy and I suppose you’ll be wanting to be on your way.’
I turned back to the engine.
He smiled then and his shoulders relaxed. I didn’t see the smile or the relax, but I felt them. And then a hand rested gently on my shoulder.
‘You misunderstand me,’ he said. ‘I think it’s wonderful that you know how to maintain her. Truly. And I’d be honoured to fly with you. Today, tomorrow, the next day. Whenever you’re free.’ His hand fell but I didn’t turn around. ‘Perhaps, like you said yesterday, we can shake hands and start again. I have a feeling that I was a bit of a pompous ass yesterday. It’s just, at the time I thought you were very lucky not to crash, and that would have been a terrible waste. I don’t like waste. I’ve seen a lot of unnecessary waste in my life and I over-reacted, I’m sorry.’
I turned to face him, the spanner still in my hand. I eyed him as a mouse would eye a smiling ferret. ‘Start again?’ I asked.
His eyes flashed brightly. ‘Exactly! Let’s pretend this is the first time we ever met, right here, right now …’
I hesitated.
‘I suppose I can do that. You were … quite, helpful yesterday, after all. But I still can’t take you up today …’ I softened ‘no matter how sweetly you smile …’
He laughed. I laughed. It was nice. Too nice. I remembered Charles.
‘But I really must get on. I have the engine to finish and then I really do need to take a good look at that rudder. Let’s say … same time tomorrow, and if the weather is fine, I’ll take you up.’
He visibly deflated. I turned back towards the engine.
‘Sorry, yes, I’ll leave you to it,’ he said to my back. ‘Till tomorrow, then?’
I nodded without looking around. I didn’t want to be rude or play with him, truly, but there was something in his smile, in the touch of his hand on my shoulder. He interrupted my thoughts by turning at the barn door.
‘I don’t suppose you’re free later this afternoon. Say, in a couple of hours, or so?’
I bent to glance at him under the wing.
‘Today?
‘Today.’
‘This afternoon?’
‘Yes. They’re putting on an afternoon tea and an early Christmas party for the children in the village hall. I’ve been asked to help out – organise games, play the guitar, that kind of thing – and I thought you might like to come, if you’ve finished here, that is.’
I considered the afternoon ahead. There was no sticky rudder. I made that up. Charles was out with his father and Lottie was sleeping. There really was no reason for me to say no, and yet, there was every reason for me to say no.
‘I don’t understand this change in you,’ I said. ‘You were quite … shouty, yesterday.’
‘Shouty?’
‘Yes, shouty. And now you seek my company, even though I’m an irresponsible and spoiled little rich girl.’
He tilted his head to one side.
‘I didn’t say that.’
I waited for him to think about it.
‘Well, not those exact words.’
