by K. M. Peyton
He was also getting very short of money and already owed his landlady a month’s rent. Having taken Helena’s jewellery up to London he discovered that the experts required more than his assurance that ‘his grandmother had left them to him in her will’. They wanted provenance, surety, and were not impressed by his now rather shabby clothes and air of desperation. He guessed they thought he had stolen them.
‘Perhaps a letter from your lawyer?’ Or a request to see the will in question, or a meeting with his parents, perhaps? Nothing that he could comply with. He sold a few pieces to rather shadier persons on downbeat premises and still hadn’t enough to see him through to the end of the month. Perhaps Clarence and Mart would buy the Van Gogh, no questions asked? But he did not dare venture the idea.
Jumping out with the parachute – once his dearest wish – now that it was near to being realized was turning out to be merely a most terrifying obstacle in the path of his disintegrating life. He was no longer in the mood to enjoy it. Once, with the wild Lily, it had all been terrific fun: he would never forget her overflowing delight, her euphoria, her amazing blue eyes flashing with pride and love – yes, love for him which had always engulfed him in her presence. What had happened, what had he done to her, to discard such innocent delight? Lying in bed with the rain pattering on the window, he felt so wretched that he wanted to die. If the parachute failed to open, he would be happy at last. Perhaps a good idea. That is, if he even found the courage to jump. He wasn’t even sure about that.
But the idea was going ahead with his gung-ho friends. He had set it in motion, and he could not stop the wheels turning now even if he wanted to. Mart was desperate to see his dreams put into practice, eager to have a go himself once he had tested it out with his friends – at least, that’s how Antony perceived it. Also thrilled to have discovered a girl, for heaven’s sake, who had the guts to do such a thing.
‘This Brooklands is just a fantastic place, my old bean,’ he exclaimed to Clarence over dinner, having downed most of a bottle of Clarence’s champagne. ‘How great that I caught up with you! And I shall soon get my ticket – my instructor is very encouraging – and then I can get my own crate and we can try this chute jumping lark ourselves.
Alcohol sparked the conversation and even the reserved Rob had been induced to relate some of his flying adventures, which Antony saw raised him even higher in Clarence’s esteem. No wonder Antony today had no inclination to get out of bed. Rather snuggle deep down and forget.
By the end of the month the weather was set fair and the parachute escapade was set in motion with no hope of back-tracking. Antony had no hand in the arrangements: the two Americans were in charge, choosing the date, weather permitting, the arrangements to collect Lily, the most convenient whereabouts to make the jump and how best to make the aeroplane easy to jump out of. (Wrenching the door off seemed to be the easiest solution.)
Antony had a say in where to do the deed: over the same small airfield in Wiltshire where he had taken Lily, where no questions were asked and there was no one to see what went on save a few distant farmers. There was no inclination to do it over Brooklands, even should they get permission, for they knew they were considered idiot amateurs by most of the fraternity they mingled with and a crowd would gather more to laugh than to applaud.
Clarence was worried about actually flying the plane, and even considered asking Rob to fly it, but as there was only room in the plane for four of them that meant he would have to stay behind. Mart was determined to go. It was ‘his baby’, he said, and the two jumpers would need all his help to time the jump properly ‘and push ’em out if need be’. He grinned widely. ‘We want them to land in the right place, not out in the bushes somewhere. Then we can go down and join ’em. I’ll supply the champagne!’
Antony wanted to join in the happy anticipation of the two Americans – after all, it had always been his dearest dream to do a jump. But that had been in his carefree days and now the jump seemed more threatening than alluring. His mind-set had changed, and his once happy-go-lucky future had turned into a bleak and depressing prospect.
The weather was set fair. Clarence arranged to collect Lily very early in the morning, when she could steal out of the house unseen, and Antony was commanded to report to the airfield to coincide with her arrival.
‘We’ll be off before anyone comes nosing around,’ said Mart. ‘No questions asked. Gee, I can’t wait for this! Then we’ll do it too, Clarence, eh? Are you game?’
Clarence obviously wasn’t but smiled politely.
‘Yeah. All systems go.’
JUNE, 1923
24
On the morning of the jump Antony was awoken at dawn by his alarm clock and saw that there was to be no reprieve: the dawn was perfect, the faintest mist proclaiming heat later softening the grey fame of the gasometer beyond the factory walls. He got dressed and left the house without bothering to eat or drink, and pedalled off for Brooklands trying to work out in his confused mind whether he was excited or scared, happy or depressed.
Perhaps today would sort things out a bit, lead to some decision-making on his part: he could not carry on without any promise of his life improving. But he still had no idea of what he could do. Forget it, he decided, and try to concentrate on the jump.
Now the moment was approaching he realized he was terrified. He remembered how he had bullied Lily into doing it, and she had never complained. What a girl! Thinking of Lily he was then bedevilled by guilt at how he had treated her. How she had thrown herself at him … that she still loved him …! His thoughts were disintegrating so fast that he forced himself to think only of the jump. Bowling along through the summertime woods full of birdsong there were only good things to think of, surely? Soon he would be swinging through the sky, the whole world at his feet, fulfilling his most ardent wish ever since he had discovered flying.
There were very few people about on the airfield, it was so early. He had even beaten the two Americans to it, and had to wait, biting his nails nervously, until their impressive Bentley hove into view. It pulled up beside him and Mart jumped out.
‘Clarence is going off to collect your girlfriend. Rob’s coming over to see us off. He knows quite a bit about parachutes, wants to see you’re fitted up properly. He doesn’t trust us, you know – thinks we’re a load of tyros. Which we are, of course. Wishes he was doing the flying himself.’
Clarence waved cheerfully and drove off. Knowing Clarence’s skills, or lack of, Antony rather wished Rob’s wishes could be fulfilled, but put the thought out of his head. The less he saw of Rob the better. It wouldn’t take Clarence long to pick up Lily, as she had promised to be waiting on the road.
Antony and Mart wandered over to Clarence’s plane, Mart exclaiming about the pleasures of life, the amazing breakfast they had been served at the crack of dawn at this swell hotel Clarence was living in.
‘Funny thing, last night an old bag checked in, same name as yours, a Miss Sylvester. You know her? Terrible old boot.’
Antony remembered his father shooting the detective inspector and felt exactly as the detective inspector must have felt the moment the bullet hit him between the eyes.
‘Oh Christ! Not her!’ He almost staggered in his stride, made a choking gargle of horror.
Mart looked at him in surprise. ‘Hey, are you OK? Something I said?’
‘Miss Sylvester – my aunt.’
‘Oh, bad luck. I see. Jeez, poor you.’
‘Did you say … you know me? That I’m here?’
‘No, old bean. She tried to engage us in conversation but I’m afraid we were rather rude. We certainly didn’t tell her you were our best friend and we saw you every day.’
‘Thank God for that! She mustn’t find me.’
‘Well, you’ll be up and flying soon, away with the fairies. And we’re landing in Wiltshire somewhere, aren’t we? So she’s not going to find you today, at least.’
‘No, nor ever. I can’t come back while she’s arou
nd.’
‘We’ll fend her off – she’s not going to interfere with our fun today.’
But the day’s fun for Antony was no longer in his mind. He could not believe in his bad luck at being discovered by Aunt Maud. Never, never was he going back to her. He found it impossible to respond to Mart’s chatter and then presumed that Mart thought the nerves were getting to him, but the nerves concerning the jump had been entirely banished by the hell of Aunt Maud’s reappearance. Fortunately they did not have long to wait before Clarence came back with Lily at his side.
She jumped out and flung herself on Antony just as she had the last time. ‘Oh, Antony, isn’t it marvellous! We can do it together – you can do it at last, just as you always dreamed!’
She was positively dancing with joy, glowing with excitement. Antony recalled unexpectedly the look on his sister’s face before she drowned, the same unearthly beauty sparked by unimaginable inner emotions, and felt he saw it in Lily as she pranced before him. He had never seen her so lovely, his dear little flower exploded into full bloom. He thought he was going mad.
But he could see that the two Americans, laughing, were captivated by this eager spirit.
While they were all standing round exclaiming and laughing they were interrupted by the familiar roar of Rob’s cranky motorbike. The professional had arrived to add the necessary air of seriousness to the expedition. He obviously found them wanting in all departments.
‘This isn’t just a laugh, you know. Lives depend on getting it right. First, you know where you’re going, Clarence? You’ve got to be spot on target for the jump, so they land in a safe place, not on top of a town hall or in a sewage works.’
‘Yeah, Ant knows the way. He told me. Follow the Portsmouth Road, and veer off after the Hog’s Back and make for Basingstoke. Then – he can tell me as we go along.’
‘You know it, Antony?’
‘Yes. I can tell him.’
They then started to discuss height, tactics, procedure. Antony had to forget Aunt Maud, concentrate on getting the parachute right, the safe way to jump, many things he had never thought to explore the day he had so blithely taken Lily up and told her to go. Rob was a severe teacher and Antony knew that he wished he were taking Clarence’s place as their pilot – he gave him the impression that he hadn’t a great deal of faith in Clarence’s skills, but without saying anything clearly to dent their confidence.
Antony began to wish again that Rob was indeed going to be the pilot, then realized with another ghastly blow to his hopes that it was obvious that Rob was going to get the job he himself so dearly desired. Good friend as he was to Clarence, he could never compete with this man’s sheer competence. By the time he was safely embraced by his parachute, bundled on board, snuggled in the cramped space almost into the giggling Lily’s lap, he knew that his future was in complete ruins, and when he landed in Wiltshire he would have nowhere to go, no hope of a job, no money, not even a roof over his head.
So much for his day of delight: the longed-for day of his first parachute jump.
Rob shouted his last instructions, the engine roared into life and Clarence started taxiing down the airfield. The noise of the engine now made talking very difficult, but as they took off and made height Antony had to look out of the doorway and concentrate on the roads below, to direct Clarence. Looking out of the doorway made him feel ill, and the thought of shortly launching himself out of it made him feel iller still. What should have been a glorious red-letter day in his life had turned to dust and ashes before it had even started. Thank God the little aeroplane was putting the miles between him and Aunt Maud: he would certainly not be making the return journey. With luck, his parachute wouldn’t open, and he would have no more to worry about.
Beside him he could feel Lily almost vibrating with excitement. ‘It is so lovely, Antony! You will be so thrilled!’ she shouted in his ear. ‘I can’t believe I am doing this with you!’
The day below was still not awake, the roads empty, the fields gauzy in the early morning mist. The lush green of spring leaves and new grass spread like a great carpet beneath them, and in the sky above them a half moon still faintly hung, fading before thin wisps of harmless cloud. To be up there, like God, seemed an amazing privilege: he could not help thinking that, in spite of everything. Their little plane was an aberration with its stink of fuel, rattling through the silent dawn, and yet gave them this magical gift of seeing the world through completely new eyes. He could not be unaware of it, however confused his mind.
‘Is that Basingstoke?’ Clarence yelled over his shoulder.
‘Yes! The course is something like two hundred and twenty from Basingstoke. You can see the Newbury road, then keep south of Newbury. Due west and you’ll see the place.’
‘Once we’ve picked it up we have to make height.’
‘Lots!’ shouted Lily. ‘So it lasts longer, floating down. High, high as you can!’
Antony could feel himself beginning to sweat, in spite of the cold wind that came blasting in through the door. He was terrified now the moment was approaching. Clarence yelled that he could see what he thought was the airstrip. Antony verified it, and felt the plane start to make its first circle to gain height, Clarence not wanting to lose the place as it grew smaller below. Rob had decided on the best height for them and Clarence was watching his altimeter, sweating as badly as Antony with his anxiety to get it right. The morning was windless and they needed to jump directly above the small strip of grey asphalt. Mart stood poised to make the decision for the exact moment. Lily was to go first, and Antony the moment after, when Mart said he would give him a shove.
Not to hit Lily, to see her get clear and pull the ripcord, then he was to go. They had discussed it in detail and now there would be no excuse for making a mistake. Antony had heard unpleasant descriptions of what might go wrong. They still lingered uneasily in his brain. Why was he doing this thing? And when it was over, what then? Did he really want to come back to the hopeless mess that was his life? His brain churned wildly, as panic took over. He looked back, white-faced, at Mart.
Mart’s eyes were narrowed, concentrating on the ground. ‘Lily, ready to go?’
‘Yes! Yes!’ she screamed, and leaped in one movement into the doorway and away.
Antony could not believe this was happening.
He clung with both hands to either side of the doorway, the wind blasting him.
‘Go! Go!’ screamed Mart and gave him a great thump on the back.
He went.
Hurtling down, his brain went into manic overdrive. He did not want to land: to meet Aunt Maud, to become a beggar, a down-and-out like so many that haunted Brooklands, sleeping rough in the broken-down sheds, to face being the failure that he truly was. He was falling, frozen, sweating, hallucinating, perhaps screaming, he never knew.
He passed Lily, swinging blissfully beneath her great white canopy, so slowly he could not believe it. He could not believe what he was doing, or rather not doing: pulling the ripcord. He had it in his hand, but something in his scrambled mind held him back, seeking peace, seeking oblivion. The fading moon went round and round above him; the ground was quite clear now: he could see two little ants running, looking up, their faces like white daisies in the grass.
They were getting terrifyingly bigger.
He pulled the ripcord, but knew it was already too late.
So blessed peace it would be.
25
Lily landed what seemed to her a century after Antony, far away from the terrible scene she had witnessed. Scared witless, she made a bad landing and could not get to her feet, entangled in the billowing folds of the canopy. Her left ankle would not bear her weight and, once up, she fell. She could not free herself from her harness, her fingers not obeying her petrified brain. She could hear herself sobbing, swearing at the beastly, clutching parachute.
‘Leave me! Leave me!’ she screamed, and at last kicked herself free.
Pain seared up her leg, but she
ran regardless. Long before she reached Antony the plane had come down and made a terrible, panicky landing, passing her on its way down the strip. She got a glimpse of Mart still standing in the doorway. He screamed something at her, but what it was she had no idea. Antony was still a mile away, it seemed, and she saw two other people running towards the spot. Clarence taxied the plane back to where the now-opened parachute lay sprawled uselessly on the grass and Lily was still running. Mart jumped out.
The pain in her ankle was so bad and the stitch in her side so crippling, that she had to come to a halt. She stood there sobbing, and after a few minutes saw Mart coming towards her. He held out his arms to her and she fell thankfully into his embrace, burying her face into his cold leather jacket, into the darkness. She never wanted to come out.
‘There, there, Lily, hold up. Hold up, sweetheart, it’s all right.’
‘It isn’t! It isn’t!’
‘He’s still breathing.’ He nearly added ‘for now’, but held it back. Then, ‘What was he thinking of?’ He picked Lily up bodily and, holding her like a baby, started to walk slowly back. Lily saw that he was walking towards the clubhouse, not towards Antony, and struggled violently to get down.
‘I have to see him! I have to be with him. He needs me!’
‘Lily, you don’t want—’
‘I do! I do! You must—’
He let her down, but held her as she staggered.
‘There’s nothing you can do. They’ve gone for a doctor, an ambulance.’
‘I have to be with him!’
‘All right. All right.’
