Wings of the Morning

by Julian Beale

  ALEXA BUSHELL — 1987

  It was early evening on Friday 4th September, the start of another weekend and it was ten years to the day since she had arrived in Hong Kong to start a new phase in her life. A long time, but looking back over all that had happened, it seemed longer. The first job had been OK. Alexa knew from day one that it was not going to be her heart’s desire, but it was an entree. It kept her fed and clothed and housed in pretty considerable comfort, and since it was with Barings Bank, it gave her some social introductions.

  After nine months of this existence, she took ten days holiday and flew back down to Sydney. She saw her friends, spent much time with Mark and inspected developments at the Clinic. The Peter Bushell Foundation was up and running, and there was a blue plaque on the door to say so. Alexa fulfilled her promise and made a speech at a ceremony. She stood outside the apartment block in Double Bay and thought of him. She returned to Hong Kong, conscious that she had turned a corner and should now be accelerating her progress. She started the search for a new job and a more satisfying apartment which she could make into a home.

  Alexa had met a few people despite leading a pretty quiet life. There were some girl friends from work and other contacts. She played regular tennis, went out for early evening suppers, did some sailing and picnicking. She became close to an American girl, Tina Fullerton, married to a British husband Bill, who was a currency trader. Tina was gregarious and well connected. She moved quickly to introduce Alexa to a head hunter who was recruiting for some corporate lawyers from London. They were getting established in Asia and they hired her at once.

  Alexa relished her new job with Ince and Co. They were nice people with no doubt brilliant legal brains, but not always great at organising themselves. As the company expanded, the Partners came to value Alexa’s ability to administer things with grace and style. In the same timescale, she established herself in a far bigger and better apartment, widened her circle of friends, did a lot of partying. She rediscovered her joie de vivre and enjoyed a brief affair with a wild but entertaining Irishman.

  Alexa was composed and happy with her life when she met Hugh Dundas for the first time in May 1981. Hugh was buying a small shipping company owned by a client of Ince and Co and Alexa had been present at a meeting of all parties involved. She was there to ensure that people and arrangements were in the right place at the right time. Hugh Dundas took notice of her, more in fact than she noticed him. She knew his name, of course. There were few in the Colony who did not. He had, it was said, a computer brain linked to a Midas touch. What he did not have, as Alexa observed when they were introduced, was much in the way of style.

  Dundas was a gaunt, thin streak of a man. He was then forty years old, stood almost six foot six, but was prematurely stooped with iron grey hair cut too short. He wore heavy, granny spectacles and dressed in clothes which would have better suited his grandfather. The wags claimed that he wore black brogues on his huge feet even with shorts. But he disarmed with charm and his sombre face could light up with a mischievous grin which gave the lie to those jealous souls who sought to dub him as a brilliant, geeky bore.

  The shipping company was no big deal for Hugh Dundas. It was neither large, nor especially expensive. Alexa had no idea of its purpose within his grand design but she did take note of the exemplary manner in which he handled the final arrangements. He seemed always to have time. Hugh was never in a rush, always moving calmly on those great feet, always ready with a gracious comment to those around him. But in a way, it was not quite fair. He could better afford the time for polite asides than most of us because he needed less for the essentials. His memory was prodigious, his grasp of detail fearsome, his choice of word and expression unfailingly well-judged and his vision for the total big picture apparently crystal clear with a decision, once taken, never being revised. In an age before the concept of multi tasking, Hugh Dundas was already a master of the craft.

  It happened that Hugh was back in the Ince office only a week later, to have lunch with Roland Carpenter, one of the founding partners who was a friend from schooldays. He was sitting in their comfortable visitors’ area waiting for Roland when Alexa was passing through. She thought he should be better received, but he was entirely relaxed and happy to chat to her for a few minutes. She was impressed that he remembered her name and role in the organisation.

  ‘It’s good to find a bit of organising flair here,’ he confided with an attractive, lopsided grin, ‘Lawyers are all very necessary in life, but they’re not so good at taking decisions.’

  Alexa was all too conscious that she was simpering like at a schoolgirl at his compliment. Rather more alarming, she felt a surge of energy pass between them. Dangerous ground, she thought and felt both relief and frustration when Roland appeared in a rush to claim his guest. There was no further contact between them for a couple of months, but then Alexa was helping Roland with an art exhibition in which the company had a legal interest and Hugh slipped in on the final evening. He advanced towards her desk and she rose to greet him.

  ‘How nice of you to come,’ she said, ‘and only just in time. Do you admire what you see?’

  ‘How are you Alexa,’ he replied bending from the waist like a courtly, old fashioned hussar to kiss her cheek, ‘and actually No is the answer. I really don’t care at all for this sort of stuff. I prefer a painting to be of something I can recognise.’

  Alexa relaxed. ‘Yup. I must say I agree and I’ve been having to look at it for days on end so you’re getting off lightly.’

  ‘Well,’ he said, ‘we mustn’t be that honest with poor Roland. He would be disappointed in our inadequate taste.’

  He paused for what seemed an age before resuming with a question.

  ‘Since you’ve had enough of all this, what about a drink somewhere?’

  In that moment, Alexa knew that the electricity between them was not going in one direction only. There was chemistry at work, and all this was leading somewhere. It was going to happen, but she knew this was not the time. So she shook her head and fixed him in the eye.

  ‘I’d love to, Hugh, but not this evening. I really must finish this job properly and make sure we’re all ready to move out first thing in the morning. But thank you.’

  Hugh inclined his head.

  ‘Of course. I respect your dedication. Roland evidently doesn’t know how lucky he is to have you around him.’

  Alexa was trying to decide if there was a further meaning in his words when he continued.

  ‘And when you finally do get away, how do you wind down from all of this?’ and he asked the question as one long arm wandered around the room.

  Alexa knew she must stay firm.

  ‘By going home to put my feet up, have more than one glass of wine and finish my excellent book.’

  He nodded his understanding, but was not yet to be put off.

  ‘How very laudable,’ he smiled, ‘and somehow I guess that you’re not reading either War and Peace or a bit of Jane Austen?’

  ‘You’re right. But the first is close. Actually it’s War and Remembrance.’

  His eyebrows rose. ‘An excellent choice. Such an epic novel and worth the long wait since The Winds of War. What led you to Herman Wouk as an author? The Caine Mutiny?’

  ‘Actually not, although I’ve read it and seen the film of course. No, my first Wouk work was Youngblood Hawke which I loved. I like the way he tells a story and I was under the spell from page one. The idea of a hillbilly who’s a brilliant writer but looks like a truck driver captures my imagination. But then I’ve often been attracted to people who are not what they seem.’

  Alexa turned away, suddenly embarrassed by her own candour, but Hugh just stood there with his long arms folded about him and grinning with unrestrained pleasure. Finally, he said.

  ‘Well message taken. Oh, and I do hope to see you again soon.’ And with that he left her.

  As things turned out, it was not that soon. July turned into August, a month which Al
exa had come to regard as her least favourite of the year, when it was hot, humid and brazenly sunny. She was reminiscing over her last trip to Sydney and starting to anticipate her mother’s visit in September. She was conscious of being irked by some of the demands of working at Ince. She loved her apartment and tried some redecorating but decided the results were disappointing. She was unsettled, distracted and frustrated when Tina Fullerton precipitated a crisis.

  ‘Bill and I are throwing a bit of a party,’ she phoned to say, ‘it’s at the Club and it’s to celebrate being here ten goddam years. Would ya believe that, Doll!’

  Garden lights were twinkling prettily as Alexa got out of her taxi and a buzz of lively conversation stirred the languid air in the spacious area between the Club’s main pool and the tennis courts. There must be a hundred or more here already, Alexa thought to herself as she collected a glass, waved to a couple she knew and went to find her hosts. Bill was busy talking but Tina peeled off from somewhere to give her a hug of welcome. They had no time to natter before the restless swirl of gossiping guests moved to reveal a familiar figure standing a few feet away with his back to them. Tina muttered something like ‘great timing’ and moved across to tap him on the elbow before a horrified Alexa could stop her, then Hugh Dundas turned around and his smile of pleasure embraced them both.

  ‘What a great party, Tina,’ he said, ‘how did we get on for entertainment here before you and Bill arrived? Alexa, how lovely to see you after much too long. Have you brought Herman Wouk with you?’

  Hugh laughed as he bent forward to kiss her cheek and at that moment she heard Tina say, ‘And hey, Alexa, have you met Hugh’s wife Janey?’

  Alexa was never to forget that introduction. Janey Dundas gave the sweetest smile and held out her hand which carried a warmth of greeting.

  ‘No, we haven’t met before and I’m so pleased to do so now. Hugh has often spoken of you.’ Janey spoke with the voice of a genuine English rose, and she had the complexion to match. She had a sweet face with gentle laughter lines and the slightest suggestion of a dimple in each cheek. Even in this light, Alexa could make out the compelling violet colour of her eyes which sparkled with her vivacious spirit. She wore her enviably thick auburn hair to her shoulders and the lights from the pool caught the double row of diamonds about her neck where they rested on her fine bosom encased in a white silk top which was set off by slight and delicate embroidery.

  A proper English lady, Alexa had time to think to herself as she took the proffered hand and smiled her own greeting. She had to bend down. Janey Dundas was in a wheel chair, and she could never rise from it.

  In sharp contrast to that moment, Alexa could never remember quite what happened next. She had vague memories that they chatted in a group for a few minutes before Hugh found the right moment to push his wife on to speak to other friends. As they stood alone, Alexa turned to Tina and said,

  ‘Be my friend. I’m going home now, but call me.’

  Tina Fullerton didn’t ring her the following day, but went one better. She was waiting on the door step as she returned from work, and they went for a pasta supper together before returning to Alexa’s apartment for a talk on the balcony which lasted most of the night. Bill had been warned that he would likely be on his own.

  After Alexa had apologised for ducking out of her party, Tina told her about Hugh and Janey Dundas. Alexa had not appreciated that the couples went back a long way. The men had been childhood friends and had gone through school and university together. There was a considerable difference in their brain power and a greater contrast in their wealth. But Tina reported that in her typical, straight talking style.

  ‘Hugh’s an absolute fuckin’ brainbox. He’s a bloody genius. And yet with all of that, the bastard’s just a nice guy. He’s gentle, thoughtful, never pushy. And as a friend, well let me tell ya Alexa that he’s just the best. Ah, Jesus, just the very fuckin’ best.’

  Tina’s language was inclined to deteriorate as her alcohol intake increased and Alexa was content to wait while she filled both their glasses and lit up another of her favourite cigarettes. She curled her legs under her on the sofa and continued.

  ‘Hugh’s got my Bill into jobs and out of scrapes over the years more times than I care to recall, and to be honest with you, the two guys are really not in the same league at all. Bill would be the first to agree. He couldn’t live with Hugh in any sort of a race. And you might expect Hugh to lord it a bit. But he never does: never has done and never will I reckon. He doesn’t do patronising, he’s just there for you when you’re in the shit, and he somehow manages to pick up whatever sort of tab it is without you even noticing. I know he’s razor sharp and he sure can be fuckin’ ruthless. I’ve seen it. But if you’re his friend, waal, you’re lucky ... and you’re goddamed guaranteed.’

  All of which was good to hear, but it wasn’t the background history which Alexa craved, so she broke in gently to steer her friend with a question.

  ‘How long has she .... I mean how long have they been living here now?’

  Tina didn’t answer immediately. She lay back on the sofa and stretched her long legs out to rest on the coffee table. She took a long drag at her Camel and pushed aside the long black hair. Then she sat up suddenly and wagged a slim finger.

  ‘Ok, Alexa. Now listen up. First, I’ll give you the short history. Then I’ll tell you where you’re at and what you’ve gotta do about it. OK?’ Without pausing, Tina went on, ‘and here’s where we are gal. No interruptions. No questions. Nothing I say gets repeated. To nobody. Not ever. Not even your goddam mother. Is that a deal?’ And she looked pretty fierce.

  Alexa nodded, ‘I promise.’

  Tina nodded with her and reached for her glass. She took a swig and started in.

  ‘The short version, heh! I was born in Small town Dakota, US of A. Bright kid, did well at school, graduated near top, heading for Wall Street, took six months out to travel Europe. Did France and Italy. Saw the museums, test drove the boys. Finished up in London. Went drinking. Got picked up in a club in Belgravia. Some fancy speaking Limey schmuck. Fell for him and married him. So. Tina Goranko becomes Mrs Bill Fullerton. Leaves behind her Polack past and joins the British upper class.’ She threw a face and mimicked a regal dowager look which gave Alexa the giggles.

  ‘OK so far?’

  ‘Gottcha!’ and they both laughed together.

  Tina continued, ‘Bill Fullerton. Second son and third child of well connected, so so financed English for ever family. Farming in Cheshire since the Romans. Schooled at Rugby, known for cold showers and bared bums’ — this in a grossly parodied true blue accent which had Alexa smiling — ‘there met Hugh Dundas, only child, orphaned through a car smash, lives with uncle, aunt and cousins in wild Northumberland. The two become inseparable, asshole buddies as we say. Hugh gets Bill through exams and into university. They room together, drink together, chase women together. Hugh has more brains than blood. Bill is the sportsman: really good at cricket and a shit hot golfer. Hugh is a mug at any sport and he’s not so strong as Bill at pulling down the girls. So they balance a bit. Still get the picture?’

  Just a nod from Alexandra.

  ‘The guys graduate and move to London. Set up house, get work. Both in the City. Hugh is snapped up with his double first, Bill is hired and in those days, a name was as good as a brain. For a couple of years, they have a ball. Work a bit, party a lot, holiday as and when they can, visit each other’s family etc. All that good stuff. And can you guess what happens next?’

  Tina poured more wine and reached for her packet of Camels. Alexa replied tentatively.

  “Ah ... you met Bill?’

  Tina shook her head, ‘Not yet. First up, it’s Hugh who falls in love. He goes in a party to some concert — the Stones I think — and he’s introduced to Janey. The Honourable Jane Williams-Blake, third of five daughters who hail from some goddam great pile in Wales. Janey and Hugh are smitten and get engaged in the fall of 1966. They’re pret
ty young, but everyone agrees it’s a terrific match. Just the best and set for life.’

  Tina paused to swig at her wine before she continued.

  ‘This next bit’s tough and I wasn’t on the scene to see it myself. It all comes from Bill. Like I said, Hugh was never into sports. But he did love cars and Bill says he used to drive them pretty well and goddam quickly. He had a little old British sports car, an MGB race prepared. Hugh takes Janey out to show her the works. Hugh is trying hard and showing off. He overcooks it, spins, clumps the bank, turns over twice, ends upside down. He’s fine, belted in. Janey isn’t. She’s thrown out: onto tarmac: damages lots. She can’t walk, hasn’t walked since, will never walk again. Plus a few things more, like no control, no sex, no children. Not ever.’

  Alexa was chilled by Tina’s account but kept her promise not to interrupt.

  Tina contiued, ‘I didn’t come on the scene until ’68. Bill and I zipped home in the October, marrying before the worst of the Dakota winter started to hit. We were back in London before Christmas, when I first met Hugh and Janey. By then, they’d been married about six months I guess, so a long time after the planned date, but on lots of levels incredible to go through with it at all.

  ‘I can hear all the questions in your mind, Alexa, and I have to say, well shit, I don’t have too many of the answers myself. Bill says that after the accident, Hugh was calm, but both grief and conscious stricken. He wouldn’t talk much about it, not even to Bill. He wouldn’t hear about getting out of the marriage or even postponing it beyond Janeys’s critical recovery time. He was — what was Bill’s word? Obdurate. Yup, that was it. Obdurate. This is the girl I love, he seemed to say, and I’m sticking with her. For better or for a great deal fuckin’ worse, and he hadn’t even signed up to the goddam vows by then.’

  Tina waved a languid hand that suggested Alexa was now permitted to speak. She picked up her own glass and a cigarette before she replied.

  ‘Golly Tina. What you’ve told me is such a desperately sad story. Thank you though, thank you so much for telling me. I feel a whole lot better for knowing but I haven’t a clue what to do next. The thing is that although there’s been absolutely zero involvement between Hugh and me, the chemistry is there and we’re already some sort of soul mates. I know it sounds crazy to say that,’ she finished limply.