by Giles
Tash moved her hand and nodded to Pruette. “We’ll talk later Archie,” she promised.
She straightened up and marched up the steps to the bridge proper. “My apologies Captain Phillips for not being here to greet you this morning, Gopal and I were unavoidably detained. Now that we are here Sir, I wish to welcome you the Discretion and indeed to Starblower & Co. I have been in touch with Mr. Starblower, which created part of our delay this morning, and he has asked me to thank you on his behalf. Additionally he wishes to convey his gratitude that you were able to drop everything to come to our aid.”
Jerard stood and bowed. “It is my pleasure madam. Please convey to Mr. Starblower that I am delighted to be able to be of service to him and I very much look forward to meeting him.”
Tash gracefully inclined her head indicating acknowledgment. “I shall pass your message along Captain Phillips. Now then, I must say that I am surprised Captain that you have not taken the wheel yet. Or has our Willy refused to give it up?” Tash turned and winked at Mr. Wallace.
Jerard was taken aback at this unseemly familiarity Miss Smythe-Harris was showing to Mr. Starblower’s other employees. He was also extremely irritated that she had inferred that someone under his command would not follow his orders. Not to mention that the woman had hit the nail on the head, he wanted more than anything right now to get his hands on the unusual ship’s helm, he had just not figured out a way to do it gracefully.
“I have not asked to take the helm, Madam.” Jerard replied stiffly.
Tash realized that something she had said piqued the Captain’s temper, although she hadn’t a clue as to what it might be. Trying to make amends she offered him a gracious smile and an apology. “Forgive me Captain, I am rather proud of the Discretion and I erroneously assumed that you might enjoy flying her as much as I do. I suppose flying airships is old hat to you, but would you humor me by taking the helm?”
Damn the woman, Jerard thought, she has put me off balance again. If I refuse then I shall be rude, if I comply I will have to take this unfamiliar helm and act as if nothing is different. This is probably some sort of test, women are always testing men, trying to see how far they can push them. It was one of the reasons that Jerard had chosen the military life. As a rule he just did not find the company of ‘ladies’ pleasant.
“Mem-Sahib?”
Tash turned to see Gopal standing in the doorway. “Yes Gopal?”
“I have spoken with Mr. Vinnetti, he suggests moving the morning meal to around ten o'clock unless you have any special instructions for lunch?”
“No, that will be fine. I think I shall eat in the passenger lounge and finish up some of those ledgers. I will be up in a few minutes. I want to speak to the senior officers first and tell them what we are about on this trip. ”
“Very good, ma’am. Is there anything more you require?”
“No, thank you, Gopal.”
Gopal bowed and backed out of the room. Tash turned back to Phillips. “Captain, if you will forgive me, I need to speak to you and the senior officers. I know the normal is for me to relay any information to you and, at your discretion, you further relay it on to necessary crew members. However on this occasion it will be much more expedient if I speak with you all at once.”
Without waiting for a reply Tash turned to Mr. Jones. “Sir, please summon Mr. Nichols and Mr. Howell to the bridge.”
“Yes ma’am.” Jones replied to Tash and then addressed the speaking grill, pressing down on a switch as he did so. “Mr. Nichols, Mr. Howell to the bridge. Mr. Nichols, Mr. Howell to the bridge.”
Jerard could hear a tinny, crackly version of Jones’ voice that sounded as if it were coming from the antechamber. This is quite amazing! Jerard found he wanted to know exactly how Jones’ voice was sent out like that. Since Nichols should have been in the auxiliary bridge it meant that the sound went at least that far. I wonder where Howell is right now? Did he hear Jones’ voice as well?
Moments later Mr. Howell sailed into the bridge. “Hallo the bridge!” He boomed. “What can I get for you fine fellows…Oh! and…Miss Tash! How lovely to see you! I had wondered where you had got off to, should have known it would be here.” He grabbed Tash’s hand and performed an extravagant bow over it, ending the movement in a light brush of his lips across her knuckles. With a flourish worthy of a stage actor he released her hand; the entire display of courtly manners lasting only seconds.
“Hello Jon, it is a pleasure to see you too.” Tash chuckled.
“Out of the way Howell, it’s my turn!” Nichols said as he brushed past. “Tash, my dear! I have to agree with our loud steward, you do look lovely!” Nichols placed a hand on either of Tash’s shoulders and leaned in to kiss each of her cheeks as if the man were her father. “Now tell us. Is Mr. Starblower in trouble? Why the sudden departure? We all thought this flight was scheduled for next week.”
“Yes it was and for that I apologize. Actually my apology is the reason all of you are here together. Mr. Starblower and I are deeply grateful that all of you were willing to cut your holiday time short and join us. Mr. Starblower would like to thank you with an extra pay packet that I will have Captain Phillips distribute a little later. If you would, please let your under crewmen know that this is coming and convey Mr. Starblower’s gratitude. I intend to speak to everyone personally but I may not be able to before we arrive in Scotland.” Tash grinned, “You’re a busy lot and I know better than to interrupt a man at his work.”
Jerard listened to the soft chuckles of the crew and once again felt like he was missing something. The crew’s overly-familiar way with Miss Smythe-Harris was making him extremely uncomfortable. He would have to fix this; gentlemen just did not treat ladies this way. It was strange enough that a woman was put into such a powerful position as secretary to one of the wealthiest men in England. That he could not repair, but he could require that his crew give Miss Smythe-Harris her due, and he would start by eliminating this ridiculous use of first names. It was obvious to him that this woman needed some help and he would be the one to provide it! He would teach these rough fellows the proper way to greet a lady and hopefully in turn she would cease her overly familiar activities with them. If Miss Smythe-Harris did not care about her reputation then Jerard would care about it for her. Did the woman not realize that her actions could cause a scandal?
“Now gentlemen,” Tash continued. The Soul of Discretion has been conscripted to assist Her Majesty’s Service by tracking down a kidnapper. We have been placed at the disposal of one Mr. Carstares to fly to the coast of Norway. We have further been asked to assist this gentleman in any way possible. When we land at Beardmore’s later today, the ship will receive a thorough going over; additionally their engineers will be assisting us to complete our repairs. The parts we require have already been assembled and I expect the final repairs will not take over long.”
“Mr. Carstares will be meeting us at Beardmore’s and should be present when we arrive. If all goes as planned we will depart for the coast of Norway first thing tomorrow morning. I am asking all of you to remain with the ship this evening and assist in the preparations for her departure. Since we cannot say how long we will be out we will be taking on additional supplies and fuel. Are there any questions?”
“Oui, Madam, if you will permit.”
Tash moved slightly so she could see the speaker better. “Yes, of course. You are Jules D’Arcey, correct? This will be your first flight with us. Welcome aboard Mr. D’Arcey. What is your question Sir?”
“I know it is silly Madam, but have you any idea of how long we will be staying in Norway? I have failed to bring along a winter coat.” D’Arcey said a bit sheepishly.
“Actually Mr. D’Arcey I have thought of that. It is also summer in Norway so it is not nearly as cold as it could be. However a great coat is part of your uniform and we will be picking up yours and the other new crew member’s coats when we land in Scotland. Our factory in Glasgow is responsible for the heavier pieces
of your uniform. In addition to a great coat you will receive a second uniform that is made with a much heavier weight of material along with the appropriate under things. As you know Sir, it can get quite cold up here in the clouds.”
“Oui, Madam, it does. I was just wondering how long we would be there.”
“As to that Sir, I cannot answer. It is my hope that it will only be a day or so and then we will be returning to Scotland…with an additional passenger. Why Mr. D’Arcey? Do you have other commitments?”
“Oh no Madam! I was merely curious. We French are a curious lot, oui?” D’Arcey replied raising his hands into the air, palms up and shrugging at the same time.
“I suppose so Mr. D’Arcey, but to be honest with you Sir, I have not met many Frenchmen.” Tash smiled. “You will have to be my guide to your wonderful culture.”
D’Arcey inclined his head and returned her smile. “It will be my pleasure Madam.”
“Alright then, any more questions gentlemen?” Tash looked at each face on the bridge.
Jerard was not the only one to have noticed Tash’s slight hesitation about the ‘additional passenger’. Looking at his crewmembers’ faces he noted that Howell and Nichols especially were intently studying the woman’s face. Jerard waited a moment to see if the question uppermost in his mind would be asked. When nothing was forthcoming he decided it was left up to him. “Will we be picking up Mr. Starblower while we are in Norway?”
“Alas no Captain, Mr. Starblower has not completed what he set out to do and has left the matter in my, or rather I should say, our hands. I believe he understands that we are all quite capable of ferrying about Mr. Carstares. Don’t you agree Captain?”
“Yes Madam, I just thought while we were there…”
“Completely understandable Captain.” Tash interrupted. “However, the nature of this flight requires urgency; you do recall that I said that we would be assisting Mr. Carstares in capturing a kidnapper? I believe the plan is to arrive in Norway before the boat that contains the suspected party and their kidnappee. This way they can be neatly apprehended on the docks. If Mr. Carstares is successful then we will need to return the esteemed Dr….er…victim to Scotland immediately.”
“Ah, I see. Thank you Madam.”
“My pleasure Captain. Anyone else? Questions?” Tash looked around and received negative head shakes from the rest of the crew. “Very good then. Captain Phillips will you be available to meet with me about eleven o’clock?”
“I believe so Miss Smythe-Harris, as long as there are no problems needing my attention on the bridge.” There! Jerard thought, that will show them the polite way to deal with a lady. One must use the exact balance of politeness without making any promises. Jerard knew that the skies were clear and the ship was running smoothly. At this point in time there was no reason not to conduct the meeting but Jerard felt it important that as the Captain of the ship he should have options.
“Of course Captain, the Discretion always comes first. I will see you in the passenger lounge at eleven a.m. sharp.” Tash replied in a voice that would freeze water. She looked Jerard in the eye for another moment before turning and smiling at the rest of the assembled crewmen. “Gentlemen.” Tash sailed out of the room leaving a wake of chilly air.
Jerard watched her go with a puzzled, yet relieved, expression. She’s certainly nothing like my mother or my sister for that matter, he mused. Turning back to the forward bubble he gazed for a long moment at the slowly passing landscape trying to untangle his thoughts. Miss Smythe-Harris was certainly outside of any of his experiences with ladies. She did not seem to possess the serene calm of his mother (or his sister to a lesser degree). Nor did she laugh and giggle brainlessly like the girls he was forced to dance with at his mother’s annual ball. No, this woman seemed to own a fine intelligence and straightforward manner that Jerard found disconcerting. She reminded him of one of his superior officers, a man Jerard liked and respected. He shook his head, how could this be? She’s a woman for god’s sake! At this moment Jerard missed his mother terribly, he knew if could talk to her she would be able to counsel him as to the correct etiquette of this situation. With that thought in mind he moved over to where Mr. Wallace was standing steadily at the wheel.
“Where are we now Mr. Pruett?” He questioned aloud.
“Checking Sir” the man stated flatly. A moment later he added “We’re just coming up on Aylesbury, Sir.”
“Really? We’re making good time then Mr. Pruett.”
“She’s a good ship Sir, we’re perhaps a quarter hour ahead of schedule.”
“Yes, Sir,” Mr. Wallace volunteered. “Had a tail wind till St. Albans; helped us along no end it did.”
“Well if you gentlemen will permit I think I should get the feel of her myself as we have a little time. Mr. Wallace may I have the controls?”
Wallace looked a little surprised but he stepped aside smartly enough one hand lightly resting on the wheel until Jerard had a grip on it himself. Feeling the ship through the wheel for the first time, Phillips felt at home on board as never before. Small vibrations in the wheel marked the slight buffeting of the hull by the summer breezes. For a long moment he just stood stock still behind the wheel taking in the locations of the ships controls in relation to his new position. He smiled then and spun on the wheel gently, a little surprised at the resistance in the tiller.
“Coming about to 271 west Mr. Pruett...” He declared as he bent forward to throttle up the main engines. “…increasing speed to 55 knots.”
In the engine room the duty technician heard the chiming of the throttle control and he opened the engines up ever so slightly. The four V10 engines changed their throbbing note to a slightly higher pitch and the airship picked up speed gently as Phillips brought her about.
Pruett tapped his pencil against his teeth and regarded Phillips gravely. “You have a new course for me Captain...Sir?” He queried acidly. Inwardly Archibald Pruett realized he was being irrational, but it galled him to see the young man there behind the wheel instead of…of Daniel Mather. Pushing down raw feelings, Pruett donned a strictly professional mask and repeated his question. “Course, Sir?”
“Just getting the feel of her Mr. Pruett, no serious deviation.” After a moment Jerard added: “Any of you fellows a lover of the theater?”
There was a chorus of muttered “not as such” from the puzzled crew except for Jones who smiled. “You’re a fan of Shakespeare I deduce captain?” The Welshman offered.
“A little yes, Mr Jones.” Jerard replied as he shifted the lift controls to put the Discretion on a very gentle dive down. “In about half an hour if you care to look port side gentlemen you will see the Avon River and the home of ‘The Bard’ himself. But if you will indulge me, this side trip is a little personal as well. You see gentlemen my family has a small estate just north-east of Stratford-on-Avon. It’s been years since I last visited and well I have never had the opportunity of seeing the old home from the air...”
“I see Sir.” Pruett stated in a flat, professional voice. A private side trip! Archibald’s unease was growing again, Miss Tash had all but goaded the man to take the wheel but somehow his choice of maneuvers irritated the navigator all the more. His mouth settling into a tight line he set to work re-plotting the course to Beardmore’s Inchinnan factory.
Oblivious to the senior navigator’s discomfort Jerard flew on testing the feel of the ship as he put her through a few minor turns and course corrections. At a eight hundred feet he leveled her off and leaned forward to catch a glance out of the floor of the forward bubble.
Green and gold patchwork fields looked back at him from the ground. A small puff of white steam caught his eye as a steam tractor toiled across a green field; picturesque but not what he was looking for. Then just ahead he saw the landmark he wanted, The Fosse Way. The old Roman road cut like a ruler across the crazy patchwork of fields and farm tracks. Arrow straight and pointing north-east the old stones were now mostly tarmaced or cove
red in dirt but still stood out easily from the air. Phillips marveled at the ingenuity of those ancient engineers in making the track so unswervingly straight. Oh how the Romans would have wondered at the great silver ship now cruising above their man made ley-line. Or perhaps they wouldn’t? He speculated. The Romans were a pragmatic folk and from all accounts they took local marvels in their stride and adopted them as their own, given the chance.
Leaving this musing aside he headed for a dark patch of old forest to their right and dropped the ship down another two hundred feet. There it was, the village of Ashorne Hill. He could see the college and the nearby playing field. Though the cricket oval was clearly marked on the grass nobody was playing he saw. Just as well, he thought, it wouldn’t have been fair to distract the players with his ship’s shadow and engine noise after all.
Then he saw it, nestled at the foot of the ancient wood, his family home. A single tear caught in his eye as he wondered how his sister and her husband were, since his father’s retirement. Jerard had always been grateful that his father had passed on the manor and it’s operation to his sister and husband. A pang of guilt shot straight to Jerard’s heart. Perhaps he should have gone home after his disgrace. His father had always understood him and right now Jerard was feeling like he had never shown the proper gratitude. Even now, after being told that Mr. Lovelace had never met his father, Jerard felt sure that somehow his father had managed to help him and support him once again.
Looking down on the glass roof of the conservatory he wondered if his parents were sitting together in the sunlight and if they heard the throbbing of the Discretion's engines through the windows. He wanted them to know that their son soared the skies once more. What a bloody ass I’ve been, he thought.
His moment of sentiment past, he hauled back on the wheel and spun it. “Coming to due north Mr. Pruett. Where do you want us to go from here to get back on track my good Sir?” Jerard asked genially. Pruett’s voice came back unexpectedly cold.
