36
MILLIE'S COUNTRYWIDE TOUR
1929–1930.
During August, the sum of ten thousand pounds, set aside by Lord Inchcape, had been safely deposited in Millie's account at Barclays Bank. Millie wrote a nice letter expressing her profound gratitude to him and his family. Mr. Drummond had wisely given Millie the names of reputable investment advisers in town and she'd met with two of them. Within a month, her mortgage was paid off. She waited to make investments until she understood the workings of the financial world as best she could. Hinchliffe told her to wait to invest any money in the stock market until November, which she did. She made a series of safe investments in blue chip stocks and municipal bonds. So soon after the stock market crash, her advisers had been cautious and conservative. The good thing was that stock prices were a steal at that time. Millie also bought back their piece of land, together with another adjoining parcel, from the estate agent whom she'd sold it to. He made a very nice profit, but Millie didn't mind. She had ideas about letting the Sinclairs do something with it; build a house, start a small farm or whatever they wished. She'd help them in any way she could. Sinclair had expressed the desire to own a gardening shop one day.
Millie's countrywide speaking tour began in December of 1929, and ended in September of 1930. She visited numerous municipalities in London and traveled to Birmingham, Liverpool, Manchester, York, Leeds, Sheffield, Newcastle, Cardiff, Bristol, Wakefield, Doncaster, Edinburgh, Glasgow, Brighton, Bournemouth and many more. Sometimes she visited two cities a week, usually Friday and Saturday. Millie was always accompanied by Hunter or Sinclair and sometimes Mrs. East. She usually began by playing a classical piece. It set the mood. The reception Millie got was always overwhelmingly positive, though the government and the press were not so enthusiastic, painting her as the grieving widow who'd gone round the bend.
The Birmingham audience sat enraptured by the gentle sounds of Chopin's Nocturne E Flat major Op 9 No. 2. This was the opening of Millie's second speech. It was billed as Mrs. Hinchliffe Speaks – A lecture about life after death. On the stage around Millie were her paintings: a portrait of Elsie Mackay, Endeavour, a black and white enlarged photograph of Hinchliffe standing beside his Sopwith, a painting in poster colors of The Death of Freddie Marsh, and her two latest creations: Death of R101 Near Paris and R101 and The Rabbit Poacher.
After coming to the end of Chopin's masterpiece, Millie stood at the microphone, where she had to wait two minutes for the end of a standing ovation. They'd followed Millie's story since Hinchliffe's disappearance. Millie glanced at the end seat on the back row of the auditorium. Hinchliffe was there, as usual. He'd made it a practice of occupying a similar seat during her lectures. She was comforted and strengthened by his presence.
“Ladies and gentlemen, there is a hunger across this land for enlightenment,” Millie began.
It was the same wherever she went during her tour. Millie, now beautifully dressed in the most up-to-date fashion, oozed charisma and stage presence. And people were fascinated by her art display. Pictures with predictions! The newspapers were also fascinated, but refused to print her pictures. They found them too provocative and too weird for comfort, being prestigious organs of record. They weren't organs of prediction, Hunter told her. They'd leave that to psychic fringe magazines, which no one took seriously. The Air Ministry continued to keep an eye on her, with the boys in bowlers regularly attending her lectures.
In Liverpool, she played Rachmaninoff's Prelude in G minor Op 23 as a rousing start to her talk and captivated her audience. She told them: “My husband has been telling me of his progress in his new state. He's been working to influence those in aviation—you may have heard something about it!” There was laughter at this—Millie had earned quite a reputation as an activist. “He's been warning of the dangers surrounding these airships. He says they are deadly and that the Airship Program must be stopped, before it's too late.”
Millie went from city to city. The newspapers followed her—especially the Daily Express, which of course, usually had Hunter at her lectures. Hunter, was by now, a close and loyal friend. He willingly helped organize and transport Millie's artwork.
In Edinburgh, Millie played the haunting Chopin Etude No 3 in E major 'Tristesse' op 10, which was received with rousing applause. That evening, she inspired them with her uplifting message. “My husband wants you to know that life is a precious gift, which is your opportunity for spiritual growth. Ask God and you will be given the answers. He says there is no death—only everlasting life!”
The audience there was just as mesmerized. That evening, there was one person present of particular interest—Elsie Mackay's brother, Jonathan. Once the auditorium had emptied, which took ages as many people wanted to meet Millie (her developing psychic power enabled her to console the grieving and bring messages from deceased loved ones), Jonathan came to her on the stage. He’d waited patiently. He was obviously filled with admiration. Millie didn't recognize him at first.
“I liked your talk, Mrs. Hinchliffe,” he said.
“Thank you,” Millie said, now quite weary.
Jonathan stood sadly in front of Millie's painting of Elsie, his shoulders slumped. “She was so beautiful. I loved her so very much.”
“Oh, it's Jonathan, of course!”
“Such a lovely painting,” Jonathan said, not taking his eyes from it. “I came hoping you could give me some peace of mind.”
“I liked Elsie very much, Jonathan. I can tell you this: my husband has told me your sister is around you constantly.”
“Really, he said that?” Jonathan said, turning to Millie, his face shining with hope.
Millie took the painting down from its easel and thrust it into his hands. “I want you to have it,” she said. Millie was happy to do that.
“Oh, I couldn't,” he said, touched by her generosity and overcome with emotion. “At least, let me pay for it.”
Hunter, who'd been watching from a seat in the auditorium, came on stage and slid the painting into a box then gave it to Jonathan. After they'd sent Jonathan on his way, they packed up the rest of the art and went to the hotel.
When Jonathan returned to Glenapp the next day, he went to the library and opened the package containing Elsie's portrait. He propped it up on the conference table and stared at it. A moment later Lord Inchcape entered. “Oh, my God!” he exclaimed, breaking down.
Jonathan held his grieving father.
Millie continued her tour, spreading not only the word about the dangers of airships, but more importantly, about life after death.
In the auditorium in York, Millie played Für Elise for an adoring crowd. They actually swooned when she played the first few bars. Doyle's portrait was displayed prominently at center of the stage, surrounded by her other paintings. It was particularly sad for Millie. It expressed her somber mood. She'd learned while she was away that Doyle had died of a heart attack at his home in Crowborough. She felt his loss deeply. They’d become very close. Mrs. East was also cut up. They both attended his memorial service at Windlesham Manor, two days later.
Between her trips around the country, Millie had been busy in her studio all year. She kept up her art classes and piano lessons for enthusiastic clients. She was still producing portraits for a never-ending demand from people of all walks of life, although some politicians were now avoiding her due to her activism. She produced more paintings based on her visions.
One vision she’d had she found puzzling. It was of eight men carrying a carpet on their shoulders, much the same way as they’d carry a coffin. It was in close-up of the men, their faces in the chilly wind, an angry, pale-faced officer behind them in the lights. Whatever it depicted, it was dramatic, and that’s why she painted it. She called it The Last Straw, though not sure why.
Millie also completed the other visions she'd seen earlier. The Tomb and The Mass Grave which she'd seen when she was in St. Mary's graveyard with Doyle and a later one she called Westminster Hall,
depicting coffins lying in state. These paintings went with her on stage. And they always caused a stir.
Another one she painted was of Commander Lou Remington. She wasn't sure why she painted it. She just felt compelled to one day and so she did. His image seemed set in her mind and came to her easily. In uniform he looked so fine, his aura in beautifully balanced colors. She studied the finished portrait. She knew he was married. Maybe it was a crush.
In July of 1930, the Vickers airship Howden R100 set off on its transcontinental voyage to Canada. It'd become a dual between the two behemoths. Despite backdoor requests for postponement from Cardington, the Vickers team set off for Montreal. On the way there, two terrifying weather-related incidents occurred which could easily have spelled disaster. They were lucky and survived to make the return journey, which was not without its share of anxious moments. Many of the Royal Airship Works team were on board for the trip, including Lou Remington, who traveled as both third officer and as an official representative of the United States.
After surviving serious mishaps on the outbound leg of the voyage, some of the R.A.W. staff believed they could survive anything, including the trip to India aboard their own Cardington R101. They felt they had no choice but to make the voyage. Vickers had thrown down the gauntlet. Rivalry between the teams had reached boiling point.
37
A FAREWELL CELEBRATION
Friday, October 3, 1930.
All was noise and hullabaloo in the Kings Arms when Millie and Hunter arrived around 8 o'clock that Friday evening. The atmosphere was one of great excitement. All being well, the village's very own airship would embark on her maiden voyage tomorrow. The pub was full of locals, as well as crewmen and construction workers. Millie chatted with crewmen. Most were delighted about the voyage. They were getting paid and jobs were scarce—yes, they were getting paid to see Egypt and India. You couldn't beat that! Adding to the crowd were spectators who'd arrived from all corners of the country to see Cardington R101 take off. Already, thousands were gathered at the fence around the aerodrome.
Millie listened to droll comments and banter between them. Their graveyard humor was depressing. She stood next to the out-of-tune honky-tonk where Hunter bashed out one tune after another. Right now, it was “I'm Sittin' On Top of the World” and everyone was singing along happily.
Through the smokey haze of cigarette-smoke, Millie recognized some of the people in a small group over by the bar. There was Binks. He looked over and raised his beer mug to her. He wasn't ignoring her this time. She smiled. They seemed to be enjoying a small celebration of their own. By the way they kept looking at one young man and the blond he was with, it looked like an engagement party. That was confirmed when she saw the handsome American commander arrive. She'd last seen him at Freddie's funeral a year ago. She wondered what he'd think if he knew she'd painted his portrait. She felt a bit silly about it. He joined the others and inspected the girl's diamond ring as she held her hand up to him. It glinted in the light. Millie saw him order champagne and they drank a toast. As they did so, Millie caught a glimpse of Hinchliffe's image in the mirror over the bar behind them.
Millie kept an eye on the American. It might be useful to talk, though at this stage, perhaps it was all a lost cause. But she wasn't going to give up until she saw that airship leave the tower tomorrow evening. As she looked over and smiled, the commander spotted her. He grinned and waved, though half-heartedly. He didn't look in the mood to talk—to her, or anyone else. There certainly were a few good-looking girls in the bar who had their eye on him. It amused her. He could have his pick.
After a while, she saw the commander nodding to his crewmen. He'd had enough. He moved toward the door. Millie leaned down to Hunter and whispered, “I'm gonna go and talk to that chap, I know him. I won't be long.”
Hunter appeared disappointed as he watched her go. He'd noticed the way she'd looked over at Remington. She left the pub behind the commander, who crossed the road and started across the green. Hinchliffe came out too, but waited there. Hunter's haunting rendition of “Blue Skies” drifted behind Millie until it was drowned by carousel music from the bright, colored lights of the fairground.
Beyond the fair, Cardington R101 was bathed in searchlights, putting the ship on display. It looked magnificent, that could not be denied. Millie felt like a stalker. She was close to the commander now. He turned around on hearing her rustling footsteps, and then her soft voice.
“Do you think she's beautiful, Commander?”
He grinned ruefully. “No, I wouldn't call that thing beautiful.” He was looking at her.
“My husband flew away, too.”
“Yeah, I remember.”
She paused and stared sadly at the night sky, remembering the last time she’d seen Hinchliffe on the platform at Grantham.
“Every day since then I’ve wished I’d stopped him.” She closed her eyes, reliving that awful moment. “Oh, how I’ve wished it!” she sighed.
“Do you think you could've?”
“Good question.” She stopped to consider. “I think so. In fact, I tried, but I was too late.” She paused again. She blamed herself for not putting a stop to it earlier on. “He'd been so confident, and to me he was invincible—but I had misgivings at the last moment.”
“Now you warn others?”
“I try to—especially when I have those same feelings.”
She noticed him fidgeting with his ring finger.
“Where’s your ring? I thought you were married?”
He raised his hand looking at his finger. He seemed surprised to see it missing.
“Technically, I am, I suppose.”
“Then give this up for her sake.”
“I would, but it’s too late; she's gone off.”
Millie pointed an accusing finger toward the tower.
“Was that damned thing anything to do with it?”
“I guess it may've had something to do with it.”
“I'm really sorry.”
“I met you and your husband not long before he left,” the commander said.
“Yes, I remember. We were all right here in this pub.”
“It must be tough for you to set foot in that place,” Remington said.
“He wants the airship program stopped.”
“Your husband, you mean?”
“You think I’m crazy?”
“I’m not sure what to think.”
“Take it from me—I’m not crazy,” Millie said.
“Mrs. Hinchliffe, I must go. I have a busy day ahead.”
“I suppose I’m wasting my time?”
“I don’t think you’ve a snowball’s chance in hell of stopping that thing taking off tomorrow.”
Millie took his hand to shake it, and then clasped it with her other.
“I’ll be here to see you all leave tomorrow,” she said, looking up into his eyes.
“Goodbye, Mrs. Hinchliffe.”
Millie sensed, like her, he was a lost and lonely soul. They came together, he put his arms around her and they hugged. She put her lips up to his and they kissed, softly at first, and then with passion. It felt good. It'd been more than two years. She'd forgotten what it felt like to be held in a man's arms.
“Are you going back to the pub?” she asked.
“No, I'm gonna call it a day.”
She kissed him again. “Come with me,” she pleaded, her voice an urgent whisper.
“You wanna to save me from all this, huh?”
“Yes, I do. I really do!”
“Perhaps we’ll meet again, Mrs. Hinchliffe,” he said.
“Yes, I hope so. Good luck, and may God be with you … And next time we meet, please call me Millie.”
“You sound confident I’ll make it back,” he said with an amused grin.
“I don't know, but I pray you do, Commander.”
He nodded. “Okay, Millie. And it's Lou, by the way.”
She smiled. “Lou. All right, Lou—I guess we’re
on first name terms now.”
He turned away and walked across the field, heading for the fairground. She ambled wearily back toward the pub, an ache in her body and in her heart.
Ships that pass in the night.
The carousel grew faint and Hunter's honky-tonk and the laughter in the pub more distinct. He was now playing the mournful song “What'll I do?”
Hinchliffe was still outside the pub, patiently waiting. He followed Millie back inside.
38
DEPARTURE
Saturday, October 4, 1930.
Millie had found a room at The Swan in Bedford, near the old bridge. Hunter had recommended it. He stayed at the White Bear nearby, with the other journalists. Just before she drifted off, Millie had a vision. In closeup, she saw a man's hands polishing a woman's shoe. The shoe was dated, but stylish in its day—black and dark green with a Louis heel, steel beaded and embroidered. When it gleamed, the shoe was held up to the man's lips and kissed tenderly, as though it were 'she'. The hands wrapped the sacred memento in a square of azure silk and tucked it inside an old brown leather briefcase. The lips belonged to Lord Thomson. Who 'she' was, was not revealed.
The next day was Saturday. Millie and Hunter met in town, where they saw many young crewmen in new dark blue uniforms making their way to Cardington. After lunch, they went to Cardington Field. Millie tried valiantly to get into Cardington House to see Colmore and Major Scott, or anyone of rank, but was refused admission. An RAF man had been posted on the door to keep people out, including reporters. Millie decided that after another meal they should come back and hang around the entrance gate, near the tower. They could possibly get to someone as they entered. For Hunter, it'd be easy—he'd be allowed access to interview the VIPs and officers for the big feature in tomorrow's Sunday papers.
The Ghost of Captain Hinchliffe Page 22
