by Janet Tanner
‘Father gave you my doll once, do you remember? My lovely Sleeping Beauty. I vowed then, Sarah, that never again would I lose what I wanted to you. I intend to keep that vow.’
‘Adam is no doll to be passed from hand to hand, Alicia.’
‘Perhaps not. But if you care about him you will think about what I have said. You know what will happen if you do not.’ She cocked her head. ‘Listen! I believe the gentlemen are returning. You don’t need to give me an answer, Sarah. I shall know by your actions what you decide.’
The door opened and the men came in. Max and Adam looked pleased, Leo was scowling.
‘Well,’ Gilbert said expansively, ‘we have had a most fruitful discussion. I hope you young ladies have enjoyed one another’s company.’
‘Oh yes,’ Alicia said smoothly, ‘Sarah and I have had a fruitful discussion too. Isn’t that true, Sarah?’
For a moment Sarah was unable to reply. The bright hope that was shining out of the faces of Adam and Max seemed like the final nail in the coffin of her own dreams. Somehow she summoned a tight smile.
‘We have had a long talk, yes,’ she said.
The night seemed endless, sleep refused to come. At last Sarah rose from her bed and crossed to the window, looking out at the fields and hills that had been drained of all colour by the cold moonlight.
She had no choice. She had known it from the moment Alicia had laid down her ultimatum. She would do as she had threatened, Sarah had no doubts, if she was thwarted, for Alicia was totally ruthless. There would be no money for Adam and Max to build their aeroplane, no company to give them security, no future for any of them. Perhaps she and Adam could be happy together without those things but she knew she could not risk robbing him of all he had worked for. If she did she would never forgive herself. And there was Annie to think of too. Remembering her own childhood Sarah knew she could not sentence Annie’s baby to a life of insecurity. It deserved a better start than that.
‘I’ll see they never work again,’ Alicia had said and it was a threat Sarah dared not take lightly. There was nothing for it but to do as Alicia demanded, though how she could bring herself to say goodbye to Adam, and where she would go or what she would do she could not even begin to imagine.
In the trees below her window a gust of wind brought down a shower of leaves, a portent of coming winter, and the bare branches seemed to echo the bleakness of Sarah’s heart.
She ran to the only haven she could think of, the only person in the world who could give her an excuse that would satisfy both Adam and Gilbert. And he welcomed her back with open arms just as she had known that he would.
‘I know I treated you badly, Eric,’ she said, ‘ but I promise I won’t hurt you ever again.’
And happy only to have her back he asked no questions, made no demands, beyond asking if her return meant she would, after all, marry him.
‘Oh yes, Eric, of course it does,’ she whispered, and although she felt her heart was breaking, Sarah vowed that she would keep her promise. Eric must never know that there was someone she loved as she could never love him, never have the slightest inkling that she had come to him because it was the only way she knew to secure the future for Adam and for Annie and Max. She would be a good wife, make a home for him, bear his children. And she would do it with a smile on her face that would hide the pain inside. It was not the future she had hoped for but it would be – must be – enough.
Chapter Twenty-Six
‘You flew, Adam! Sweet heaven you flew!’ Max came running across the field at Chewton Leigh as fast as his short legs would carry him, tearing his cap from his head as he ran and tossing it high into the air. His face was alight with excitement and when he reached the box kite he capered around it like an animated puppet, almost beside himself in his moment of triumph. ‘ You were a good foot off the ground for at least forty yards. I was lying flat on the grass and when you went past me you were airborne, not a doubt of it!’
Adam eased himself out of the basket seat and climbed onto the field. He felt relieved but not elated; he had waited for this moment for so long that now it had come it brought with it almost a sense of anticlimax. He was tired from the long days and weeks he and Max had spent rebuilding and modifying and curiously joyless. The light had gone out of his life when Sarah had left and even progress with the aeroplane had almost ceased to matter. It had sustained him, it was true, and working on it to the point of exhaustion had kept some measure of sanity in his life. But the dedication had gone and the driving sense of purpose. He still wanted to fly, still wanted to be a pioneer in this new and demanding field, but the wanting was dull habit now not fiery obsession, and the setbacks had made him bad-tempered and depressed instead of grimly determined as they had done before.
Adam gave little thought to his changed attitude for he could never be accused of being introspective. His was a simple personality, painted in bold primaries, not with a palette of subtly blended shades. Now an uncharacteristic greyness had descended on him and though he refused to think of Sarah when he was working, yet she had a habit of creeping up on him unawares so that suddenly he would seem to see her face or hear her laugh and the pain of knowing that she was no longer his would overwhelm him, all the more potent for having taken him by surprise.
It hit him now as he climbed down from the aeroplane, the sudden treacherous failing away of his stomach at the realisation that his triumph was almost unimportant with Sarah not here to witness it. Max was clapping him on the back and he smiled briefly at his friend’s delight, but it was as if he stood back from the scene somehow, a spectator rather than one of the chief participants, and he kicked at a turf torn up by the wheels of the aircraft with a sudden flash of impatience.
Damn it, how could she do this to him? Before he had met her he had been his own man, sure of his ambitions and untouched by anything but the most transient of affections for any of the women who had come his way. Then Sarah had come into his life and everything had changed. He had wanted her with a ferocity that had shocked him, he had wooed her, and he had thought he had won her. But all the time she had still been hankering after Eric Dare – and now she was married to him. He had heard the news from Annie, who corresponded regularly with Sarah, and again from Gilbert. Second-hand news of a second-hand love, he thought bitterly – and hated himself for caring so much.
‘Are you going to give her another run?’ Max asked.
Adam glanced towards the shed where Gilbert and Alicia stood watching, huddled up in overcoats and stamping their feet against the sharp clear cold of the December morning.
‘Might as well give the audience something to make their visit worth their while,’ Adam said and was surprised at the bitterness in his tone. Gilbert had every right to come to the field to watch – it was his money which had made this possible. And Alicia was an even more frequent visitor than he had been, her beauty and her expensive and fashionable wardrobe lending glamour to the proceedings.
‘Now?’
‘Why not?’ He climbed into the basket seat while Max swung the propeller then taxied back up the field. Over the last weeks the feel of the rebuilt aeroplane had become familiar to him, he was beginning to know the sound of the engine in all its moods and the responses of the stick and rudder bar were now second nature to him. At the top of the rise he turned the aeroplane. The air was still with no threat of the sudden gust of wind which could prove disastrous; the scene laid out before him was rural England at its most peaceful – the trees, bare now for winter, stretching bony fingers towards the ice blue of the sky, a flock of sheep white woolly dots on the neighbouring hillside.
He thought again of Sarah who had first introduced him to this place and wished with all his heart that she was here now. Then with a stab of impatience he dismissed her from his mind, concentrating on the job in hand. He had taken the aeroplane off the ground once – for a good forty yards, Max had said. Now he must do it again, a little higher and for a little further. Sixty yards, ma
ybe? Seventy? That would be about the limit he could safely achieve until he could get enough height to clear the hedge and take in the next field. He could get the height he was sure. It was simply a matter of easing back the stick gently and easily not with a jerk as he had on his first attempt at flying which had upset the balance and put too great a strain on the flimsy frame. But the more height he had, the more difficult landing would be. None of the hours of taxiing practice had equipped him for that tricky manoeuvre. He knew what he had to do, of course – reduce the propeller revolutions and pull back on the stick until just the right angle was reached, then stall the engine a foot or so above the ground. This was the theory he had evolved and he was sure it was the right one. But putting it into practice would be a difficult matter with only his own judgement to rely upon for both speed and height. Stall too high and disaster would follow, with the machine crashing down as she had done on the first flight trial, stall too late, touch down with the engine still running and she would bounce and buck like a bronco in Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show causing untold damage. No, landing after a flight of any height and distance was going to be tricky; he was glad there was no question of attempting it today with Gilbert and Alicia there to watch. Time enough for that when he and Max were alone and the aeroplane had proved herself skimming just above the ground.
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. ‘An
d 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.
