by Nesta Tuomey
As he drove across the city the memory of their last meeting came strongly back to Graham, stirring him as it had then, and whenever he had thought about it since. How vulnerable her tears had made her seem, he mused. And how fiercely protective, yet sensuously weak, he had felt at the sight of them. With an effort, he controlled his emotions. If he’d any sense, he told himself, he would stay clear of her, cut off all contact now before he got in any deeper.
Twenty minutes later, he passed slowly up Carrick Road, searching for the house he remembered stopping at the evening he brought Kay home. Parking his car, he strode purposefully up the moss-covered path, carrier-bag in hand. Somewhere in the depths of the house a bell jangled and Captain Pender waited impatiently for it to be answered, checking his watch and cursing the delay.
When the door opened at last an elderly woman in a moth-eaten fur jacket and equally shabby Cossack style hat, regarded him in dribbling, slack-jawed wonder. Amazement, and some other emotion which Graham did not recognise as joy, showed plainly on her haggard features. Probably some ancient retainer, hardly her mother, he thought appalled.
‘Good morning,’ he greeted her courteously, and held out the bag. ‘Would you be so good as to give Kay this when she returns.’
With an unintelligible gibbering sound, Mrs. Halpin took it from him and continued her cretinous stare. To Ginny he was a dream come true, a lovely hunky pilot in full uniform, all four gold bars dazzling her old eyes in the April sunshine.
Graham tipped the edge of his cap and headed back to his car. What a perfectly dreadful old woman, he thought, as he politely closed the gate after him. Surely she couldn’t have had anything to do in the creation of that gorgeous creature. It upset Graham to think she might.
Mrs. Halpin lost no time passing on Kay’s uniform. She came hotfoot up the path, the carrier-bag on her arm, her eyes alight with curiosity.
‘Is he Kathleen’s fellah?’ she questioned Molly, who admitted her as far as the hall. ‘Bit old for her, ain’t he? She’d be better off with a young fellah like herself and leave the likes of your man to someone with a bit of experience, not a hundred yards away. D’yeh get my meaning?’ She broke into horrendous cackles at her own daring.
‘To whom do you refer? asked Molly, drawing herself up. She shuddered for fear the scrawny claw would grip her arm again. What a liberty, she thought.
‘That lovely hunky pilot that’s just come in me gate this minute, that’s who,’ Mrs. Halpin spluttered, ‘Nearly took weak when I saw him on me doorstep. Gorgeous he was, the spittin’ image of Larry Oliver.’
That the bag contained a uniform she had found out at once. And even went so far as to try it on, mincing before a mirror.
‘I brought it straight away in case Kathleen was looking for it,’ Ginny told her. ‘You know, not being able to remember like where she left it.’
As if, thought Molly disdainfully, her niece was in the habit of leaving her clothing in men’s cars and not remembering. Heaven only knew what the old harridan really thought of pilots returning Kay’s clothes in carrier-bags. Knowing Ginny, probably the worst.
Ginny had always been man-mad. She was notorious for it. For years she had made a fool of herself chasing after that lumpish bread man. A second Rudy Valentino, she called him. Even Bill had not been safe, Molly reflected, with Ginny constantly dropping by for a glimpse of his ‘luvvly manly face.’
‘Tell her to send him down to me if she doesn’t know what to do with him,’ Ginny cackled. ‘I’d be well able for him. Oh, it’s plain to see he’s years older than her, the luvvly hunk. I’d give him hunky-dory.’
Molly closed the door firmly on her neighbour and tottered back to the kitchen where Bill was reading a book.
‘Who was that?’ he asked, looking up.
‘Someone with Kay’s uniform,’ Molly answered absently. So he was years older than her and extraordinarily handsome, she mused uneasily. Perhaps where her beautiful young niece was conceded she would be better to keep her eyes open a bit wider. It was a pity that she hadn’t been able to get a glimpse of the handsome pilot.
When at the weekend Kay returned home from Spain and found the carrier bag in the hall, she cried out in surprise. ‘My uniform! What’s it doing here?’ Then as she remembered, she ran upstairs exulting. He was here! He was here!
TWENTY SIX
On their return from holidays all the hostesses were rostered for ditching drill. When Kay arrived to the swimming baths, it was to find Check Mona Richards on the war-path. Empowered by the Chief Hostess, she was ruthlessly questioning all bench-huggers (much to the amusement of the pilots), and fully determined to call their bluff.
In view of this, Kay considered it too risky to chance the usual excuse and headed for the changing rooms where she found Sally already clad in the red bikini that had so excited the Spanish labourers. As she quickly changed into her own swimsuit, she was beginning to have second thoughts about the daring neckline and cut-away hips.
‘Tell me honestly,’ she demanded, shyly parading before her friend. ‘It’s too brief, isn’t it?’
Sally shook her head,. ‘Don’t be mad, Kay. You look smashing. Just wait till the pilots see you.’
Comforted, though not completely convinced, Kay followed her out to the poolside where Captain Tully, looking as manly and hairy as ever, energetically directed operations. In the water, Poppy Meldon was engaging the attention of two pilots, splashing and squealing, and living in hopes (Kay unkindly suspected) of her bikini top dropping off again. It was only when one of the pilots turned laughingly away from Poppy’s antics that Kay realised with a jolt, it was Graham Pender.
She tingled with excitement as his dark eyes followed her every movement in her new, rather daring swimsuit. She knew she looked well as she lowered herself into the water. Although not in the same league as Poppy, the light suntan acquired in Spain had given a glow to her skin and the elegant new swimsuit admirably showed off her shapely figure.
It was the usual slapstick drill Kay had come to expect. The crew in the water horsed about while those in the dinghy uproariously handed around the first-aid kit in the manner of pass the parcel. For the benefit of the bench-huggers they ostentatiously pretended to chew on what looked like dog biscuits.
‘Look, this isn’t an effing water picnic,’ Dan Tully roared in exasperation. ‘Let’s be having a bit of action there. All in the water swap round with those in the dinghy.’
Kay clung desperately to the safety bar and wondered how she was ever going to make it across to the precarious-looking dinghy without drowning. She couldn’t swim.
At the sight of her, Dan’s expression softened. ‘Come along, my dear,’ he encouraged her. ‘Over to the dinghy.’
‘I can’t swim,’ Kay shamefacedly admitted in the sudden hush that fell over the pool. ‘No matter,’ Dan grinned wolfishly. ‘Let go the bar and wade over to me.’
Kay obeyed, blushing to the roots of her hair to be the object of so much attention. A little way off, Captain Pender dreamily trod water, but she had no doubt he was taking it all in. She took another hesitant step and promptly sank through seven feet of water. Spluttering and coughing, she surfaced, only to sink again. Then hands hauled her choking to the surface.
‘You weren’t codding, were you?’ Captain Tully’s grinning face was only inches from hers. ‘You really can’t swim!’
‘Get on with it, Dan,’ the First Officers ribaldly took up the cry, thumping the water with their fists.
Unabashed, Dan murmured, ‘Okay now?’
Kay nodded, her eyes glued shyly to the silver medallion on his hairy chest. A cheer arose from the crew as he took her piggy-back to the dinghy, and with the help of Captain Pender, now alertly standing by, heaved her carefully over the side. As Kay landed fairly gently on her behind, her arm burned as if on fire from Graham’s touch and the single endearment, ‘Darling,’ he breathed in her ear caused her to lower her flushed face.
Afterwards as they ran into
the dressing-room their wet feet slapping the tiles, Sally told her exultantly. ‘He never took his eyes off you, Kay. Not for an instant and when Dan Tully got to you first, he positively glowered.’
‘I nearly flipping drowned,’ Kay laughed, trying to contain her jubilation. ‘I’ve never felt such a fool in my life.’
Sally laughed and lowered her voice, ‘I shouldn’t worry. You got more attention than Poppy with all her tricks. When Desperate Dan got to you she was furious. She’s been trying to sink her hooks in him for ages.’
Kay’s elation was short-lived. When she and Sally emerged from the building a little later, Captain Tully suavely approached, slicking back his wet hair, and invited the pair of them to go for coffee. While they stood at the kerb chatting, a white sports car suddenly pulled out and went roaring past with Graham Pender at the wheel. From his grim expression it was obvious he had seen them. Kay’s heart plummeted. Oh why hadn’t she come out sooner, she thought in dismay. She never regretted anything so much in her life.
Despondently she walked with Sally and Dan round the corner to the Intercontinental Hotel. Peter Pan! Cynically, she eyed the pilot’s youthful profile. Nobody could possibly look like that at his age without a face-lift. Then she blushed to the roots of her hair as he turned and gave her a knowing smile.
An arm about each of them, the pilot ushered the girls into the hotel, ‘Now tell your Uncle Dan,’ he bade them cosily. ‘How do you girls get on with the Queen Bee?’
A few days later came a punishing London/Shannon, a grim day which only lost some of its grimness for Kay by the unexpected addition of Florrie to the crew. In a panic, Florrie rushed about frantically appealing to anyone within earshot for the loan of a clean blouse. The lack of proper laundry facilities in Carrick Road was even harder on her than Kay, and Bill good- naturedly complained about her wet ‘thingummy jigs’ hitting him in the face whenever he went into the bathroom.
Florrie was in luck at last and the girls hurried on board where Kay discovered another unexpected bonus to the day - the third hostess was the imperturbable Renagh Walsh with whom she had made her first flight. To Kay’s delight, Renagh obligingly agreed to do first class on all four legs of the journey which left her free to work with Florrie in tourist all day. By any standards it was a real stinker, featuring delays, complaints, whining children and a bad case of epilepsy, bucking and choking frighteningly on the aisle floor. But somehow with Florrie along it all seemed an amusing romp and the two girls dealt with everything good-humouredly and efficiently. At least no one died, though it was Florrie who remembered to stick the spoon in the epileptic’s mouth.
Kay had not been in good form that blustery wet morning. In the three days since ditching drill she had not heard from Captain Pender and she was miserably convinced that he would never contact her again. Added to the inner misery was the aggravation of the weather. London/Shannons were bad enough at the best of times, she thought, without having to endure wet stockings and gaberdines all day. Spain where she had so recently basked in seventy degrees of sunshine seemed very far away. What a climate! she groaned. Enough to make you emigrate.
As she stood in the doorway greeting passengers, she received a jolt. Out of the shuffling, faceless mass of people waiting to come aboard Noeleen Carmody’s thick features suddenly swam into view. Kay saw that her old enemy from the insurance corporation was wearing a plastic rainhat to protect her corrugated waves of hair, and a mini-skirted suit which did nothing for her heavy, varicosed legs. Frumpish! Kay decided as she cooed good morning, and caught the flash of recognition in the piggy eyes.
‘Where, which one? Florrie eagerly asked when Kay told her, knowing all about the supervisor from their late-night chats. ‘The one with the mole and the orange crinkly hair?’
Kay supposed so, never having singled out any of Noeleen’s physical defects but rather, encompassed them as a whole.
‘Oh she’s a real bag,’ Florrie sighed loyally, and was all for putting salt in her coffee or sugar in her ham sandwich.
It was Renagh when apprised of the situation by Florrie who had the perfect solution. Newly engaged to be married and sporting a diamond the size of a quail’s egg, she generously offered it to Kay for the duration of the flight. When Florrie smuggled it down from the first- class section, Kay slipped it on her finger and went confidently forth to offer second coffees to Noeleen’s row.
‘Ah Miss Carmody, how nice to see you,’ she cried falsely, causing nearby passengers to turn their heads and smile, imagining they were witnessing a joyful reunion with some old and valued schoolmistress. ‘How well you look,’ Kay heaped coals on the fire. ‘Off to London on a little shopping spree?’ she went on, investing the word with such incredible archness that a flush mounted to the woman’s forehead.
‘Oh it’s you Kay. I thought it was,’ she replied, flustered.
Kay angled the cup nearer with her ring finger and had the satisfaction of seeing Carmody’s pop-eyed stare. ‘Have a lovely time.’ she cooed, ‘and do remember me to all at Smithfield.’
Glorified waitresses, were they? She deliberately trailed the diamond in front of Noeleen’s hot gaze. Eat out your heart, dear! It was the highlight of the day.
And what a day it was. Only for Renagh and Florrie, it would have been a killer! By the time they were on the last leg home, Kay was exhausted. She and Florrie strolled tiredly up Carrick Road, their kitbags slung on their shoulders, chatting wearily but amicably until Florrie’s warning, ‘Oops, I think we’ve company,’ made Kay look up in faint curiosity. She caught her breath as she recognised the white Alfa Romeo parked under the lamppost.
TWENTY SEVEN
Kay gasped in surprise as Captain Pender reclined the car seats and pushed her gently down until she was lying almost flat on the floor. From somewhere near at hand a soft cushion was gathered and placed under her head before he lowered himself down beside her.
It was two weeks later and this was Kay’s third meeting with Graham in that time. ‘Darling... darling,’ he whispered, his eyes on a level with hers, the smiling tenderness in them just visible in the dim lights. His hand lightly traced the contours of her face, caressed the skin of her cheeks and paused in the soft hollow of her neck before dropping further still to cup her breast.
‘Graham,’ Kay whispered back huskily and her arms crept round his neck to hold him close to her. Their mouths came passionately together again and tiredness and languor met in her to produce a feeling of extraordinary well-being and relaxation.
Without being quite aware how he had arrived at it, she was conscious that her blouse was open. Then the roving caressing hand slipped round behind to tug at the catch on her bra and she had just time to register a shameful desire to help him shuck off the confining garment, when all at once there was a wonderful sense of release. His fingers closed on her nipples, worrying and teasing them until she felt her breath becoming very short and heard herself moan against his lips.
She shivered as his hair brushed her bare shoulder, and then there was a wetness on her breast as he took the nipple in his mouth and tongued it sensuously. Frantically she pressed closer to him wanting this exquisite feeling to go on and on forever. A deep shudder broke over her body and she clamped down on the cry that burst from her throat.
Later as she lay quietly in Graham’s arms, Kay watched the starry sky through the car window. She felt no inclination to move and neither she sensed did he. Never before had she gone so far with any man and the new experience was both delightful and very exciting. It was funny how after so many set-backs, she reflected, everything had suddenly gone so marvellously right. And it all dated from the night she had returned with Florrie to find him waiting for her on Carrick Road.
Kay smiled to herself as she remembered what Graham had said to her that first night when they had driven fast and furiously to park on the mountainside. ‘Well, my lovely Kitty, I’ve tried but it seems I can’t stay away from you.’
His words had disturbed her
for the worrying implication (as on their last meeting before Spain) that he was resisting this magical something between them. ‘Why fight it?’ she might have asked, if in flippant mood, but flippancy had never entered into their brief relationship. Instead, she had boldly taken the initiative and reached her mouth to kiss his. No more analysis, she silently begged, no more chipping into this lovely precarious thing between us, just hold me and make me believe there’s some future we can share. At least let me hope. In her tiredness and longing all this went into the kiss she gave him whereupon, with a little exultant sound, he caught her close and hungrily kissed her back.
When she had sat into the car, having off-loaded her kitbag on Florrie, Captain Pender had seemed angry and tense, speaking tersely of ‘that clown Tully’ and more obscurely of some photograph which seemed to madden him even more than the proximity in the pool of Desperate Dan.
Kay said nothing, just sat watching his slightly hooked profile shyly, intoxicated by his nearness and the glorious knowledge that he was jealous of Dan Tully, of nameless Spaniards for their luck (and temerity) in being allowed near her, of all the men who ever shared photographs with her (what on earth could be mean?) and were understandably smitten by her.
Parked on the same spot as now, and with the city romantically spread out below them, they had begun frantically kissing, not able to get enough of each other. But when Graham began loosening her clothing, Kay had stopped him, prompted by some inner caution.
‘Forgive me,’ he murmured against her throat. ‘I’m driven half crazy for you. I can think of nothing else these days, whatever bewitchment you’ve cast on me.’
When she got home that night, Kay had found that Molly had had an accident and had been taken to hospital. It appeared that Dave was visiting at the time and helped get an ambulance. To Kay’s surprise, despite the lateness of the hour, he was sitting with Florrie when she got in, obviously waiting for her.
