Inherit the Skies (63 page)

But it would do no good. If she still loved him that was her folly and her weakness. It was over – over – and had been from the moment she had learned Alicia was carrying his son. For one thing she could not forget that he had left her to go home and make love to his wife; for another the existence of a child changed everything. Remembering her own uncertain childhood Sarah had known she could never willingly be the cause of an innocent child being denied the comforting presence of his father.

Not that Guy seemed to lack for anything, Sarah thought wryly. Alicia, childless for so long, doted on him and spoiled him so that he was fast becoming an objectionable little boy. In the first year of his life two nannies had been dismissed for attempting to bring a little healthy discipline into the nursery. Guy had only to yell for something to be certain of getting it and already he was astute enough to take advantage of this. But he was clearly intelligent and a very handsome child with that mop of jet black hair and the blue eyes that ran in the Morse family. Pity the young women in his circle in twenty years' time! With that wicked combination they would not stand a chance!

But not one of them could be hurt more badly than she had been, she thought, watching his father stride away from her with never a backward glance, sun glinting on his hair and turning it to molten gold, shoulders broad and straight in the bulk of his leather flying jacket, legs long and muscled in those damned flying boots he wore winter and summer alike.

As he reached the corner of the shed and disappeared from view Sarah gave herself a small shake. Pointless to stand there mooning like a lovesick calf. Worse than pointless – a total waste of time and energy when she needed every bit of it for the new ambitions she was determined to achieve and the new horizons waiting to be conquered. Learning to fly was just one of them. Sarah had wanted to do that since she had seen the first flying machine lift clumsily into the air and now that dream was becoming reality. But she had other dreams too … dreams that would take them all by surprise when they knew what she had in mind …

Sarah lifted her chin and a small smile curved her mouth. She had seen the surprise – and the curiosity – in Adam's face when she had mentioned this afternoon's board meeting. Well, he would be even more surprised when he heard what was to be proposed …

‘Mrs Gardiner!' Perry's voice interrupted her thoughts and she turned to see him regarding her patiently. ‘Did you want to see what makes the engine tick?'

‘Hmm?' For a moment her eyes were quite blank when she shook her head. ‘No thank you, Perry. Not today. Next time, perhaps.'

She pulled off her goggles and, swinging them between her finger and thumb in cheery arcs, she traced Adam's footsteps across the tarmac.

Afternoon sunshine streamed in through the windows of the Morse Bailey boardroom, sprinkling the crystal decanters of water on the long polished oak table with myriads of sparkling lights, winking on the framed painting of the first Morse Bailey prototype – ‘The Eagle' – which hung in pride of place above Gilbert's splendid leather padded chair, and raising the already overheated temperature in the room.

‘Can't we have the blinds pulled a bit for goodness' sake?' Leo asked, running a finger round his neck beneath his stiffly starched collar. He looked flushed and moist – hot as well as angry. Already there had been one or two of the usual contretemps – differences of opinion ending in verbal sparring matches and again, as usual, he had had to fight a lone corner. Now the main business of the afternoon was about to begin and he could see it would be yet another fight. The item on the neatly typed agenda in front of him simply read ‘Plans for Future Developments' but Leo suspected that this was a camouflage for something as revolutionary as a good many of Gilbert's ideas – some high-handed scheme he wished to introduce and get past the board whilst they were feeling drowsy from the heat of the afternoon – and Leo was determined to see that did not happen. ‘The sun – right in our faces – is beginning to be intolerable!' he protested.

‘Very well.' Gilbert nodded crisply. ‘It is a little distracting, I agree. See to it, Adam, would you?'

Adam rose from his seat and crossed to the window. He moved easily, as if oblivious of the storm breaking around him. For the meeting he had changed out of the casual clothes he wore for flying into a suit, but it was lighter in colour than the old formal uniform of business and unlike Leo he had forsaken the stiff collared shirt for the softer modern lines. At the window he adjusted the blind then returned to the table to take his place alongside his fellow board members.

Besides Gilbert and Leo there were four of them – Alicia, who had taken to putting in regular appearances since Guy had been born – safeguarding the company that would one day be his heritage perhaps, Adam thought; Max; James, released from prison now that the war was over and at home to regain his health and strength; and Joe Isaacs, who had kept the books in the old days and was now accountant for both companies.

‘Is that better, Leo?' Gilbert enquired.

‘Marginally.'

‘Oh, don't be such a pain, Leo,' Alicia said. She looked every inch her new role of company director with her flowing black locks scraped up into a chignon, not loose, full and feminine but scraped away from her face with a severity that only served to highlight the clarity of her features, and wearing a stark black dress with only the merest touch of white at the collar and cuffs for relief which somehow made her look not matronly and dowdy but vital and commanding. ‘The rest of us are managing. Why can't you?'

Gilbert hid a smile and straightened the papers on the table in front of him. ‘Item Five on the agenda – future development of the company. Now before I come to the main reason for the inclusion of this item I should like to recap on the position as I see it – where we stand at present.' He paused to take a sip of water from the tumbler at his elbow and they waited, all looking at him with the exception of Max, who was doodling absently on his agenda for he considered board meetings to be a shocking waste of time and sat through them on sufferance only. Gilbert set down his glass, wiped away a droplet of water which was clinging to his moustache, and continued: ‘Our industry was one of the few to actually benefit as a result of the war. Resources were made available, the order books were full and necessity, as always, became the mother of invention. We went ahead by leaps and bounds, we saw the sort of progress in a few short years which could have taken decades to achieve in time of peace. Now that the war is over, naturally everything is turned on its head. Orders have been cancelled, we have more workers than we can usefully employ, half-built aircraft in the sheds, unwanted, and a proclivity to design fighting planes which hopefully will never again be needed in our lifetime. The situation could well be viewed as serious – many of the companies which leaped on the bandwagon and took up aircraft production during the boom years will go to the wall – some have already done so. As you know we have been fortunate enough to recruit the services of a couple of first rate designers for the Engine Division, thrown out of work when their company failed.'

‘A rash move. Extra wage packets to fill at a time like this,' Leo snorted under his breath.

Gilbert ignored him. ‘I believe it would be a very retrograde step to draw our horns in now. I fully realise there are tough times ahead – and maybe they will be even tougher than we expect before we're through the worst of it. But we have the advantage of working from a sound base – Morse Motors is, and has been for many years, a successful company which is financially secure and Morse Motors can still be regarded as the parent company of Morse Bailey International – the division which will be most vulnerable if things get tight. And so I firmly believe that we should take the long-term view and look upon the present difficulties as a temporary setback only. We should continue to press ahead, take steps to secure our position in the marketplace for civil aircraft and expand our interests in whatever direction is open to us.' He paused for another sip of water.

‘Fine words, Gilbert,' Leo said shortly. ‘But I am not quite sure yet where they are leading us. What exactly is this ‘‘expansion'' you have in mind?'

‘I am coming to that, Leo,' Gilbert said smoothly. ‘I am about to suggest that we diversify a little and set up a new division – with the same board as we have for Morse Bailey International, I hasten to add.'

A murmur ran around the table.

‘Diversify?' Leo pressed. It was totally foreign to his nature to sit quietly and listen without barking questions. ‘Diversify, how?'

Gilbert spread his hands on the table in front of him. He looked around, meeting each pair of eyes in turn. ‘At the present time no-one wants to buy our aircraft. That will change, I am convinced of it, but in the meantime I have an alternative – rather an exciting one – to suggest. I propose that we create our own market. That we buy some of our own aeroplanes and set up a civil airline for the transportation of freight – and passengers.'

For a moment there was complete silence around the table. Even Max stopped doodling and looked up at Gilbert, an expression of bemusement on his mobile features. Again it was Leo who broke the silence.

‘Good God, Gilbert, I guessed you had a shock in store for us but I had no idea what it was. You are suggesting we should actually run a civil air service?'

‘I am.' Gilbert's voice was firm and strong now, daring them to disagree with him. ‘I believe it is the way of the future. Great Scott, it has to be! As you all know, the first mail was delivered as long as nine years ago, more for show than anything else, I agree, but nevertheless it demonstrated the commercial uses of flying. Think of the ease and the speed with which deliveries can be made over great distances!'

‘Freight, yes,' Leo argued. ‘But passengers? Who, I would like to know, would be willing to pay to put themselves in a position of danger and discomfort?'

‘Plenty will – especially when we have had a chance to modify our aeroplanes accordingly,' Gilbert said with confidence.

‘So. We are all to be fully employed producing aeroplanes to ferry presently non-existent passengers from A to B,' Leo said, his tone heavily sarcastic. ‘And who is going to run this new venture? Have you thought of that?'

‘Yes,' Gilbert said, ‘I do have someone in mind – the person who suggested the idea to me in the first place. And I must say I think she will make an excellent job of it.'

‘
She
?'

‘Yes. The person I have in mind is Sarah Gardiner.'

Again there was a moment's surprised silence and in it Gilbert took the opportunity to assess the impact of what he had said on the members of his board.

Max's face, predictably, was unreadable – the features which had once been so expressive now conveyed only sadness and a vague disinterest in anything which did not directly concern him or his designs. Joe Isaacs too was an unknown quantity. He looked thoughtful, assessing the pros and cons of Gilbert's suggestion with all the thoroughness that made him a good accountant. He is deciding what should go into the debit column and what the credit, Gilbert thought.

The reaction of the others was much clearer, however. Adam's broad grin showed a measure of amusement, whilst Alicia looked thunderstruck. Perhaps outrage was the only word to accurately describe her expression as she sat stiffly erect as if her father's words had turned her, like Lot's wife, into a pillar of salt.

Adam was the first to speak. ‘I congratulate you, Gilbert – or perhaps the congratulations should go to Sarah. I had a feeling when I was with her this morning that she had something up her sleeve – she looked like the cat who got the cream, and I thought it couldn't all be due to her acquitting herself so well on her first flight at the controls.'

‘Hmm. She is not proposing to
pilot
her airline as well, is she?' Leo enquired coldly but inwardly he was ablaze with anger. What in hell was Gilbert thinking of to entertain such an idea for a moment? At best the project was a risky one, but to set a woman to run it … an upstart like Sarah at that … well, it was folly in the extreme.

‘Sarah would do anything to make an exhibition of herself,' Alicia said. In her own way she was as furious as Leo at the suggestion – why did her father have to fawn over Sarah so?

‘That is ridiculous and you know it,' Adam said sharply. ‘Sarah does not even have her ‘‘A'' grade Private Pilot's Licence yet – she would need a ‘‘B'' licence in order to fly for hire or reward, and they don't grow on trees. One hundred hours' solo flying, mechanical theory, meteorology and navigation, altitude and night flying, not to mention crosscountry flights of not less than two hundred miles – it will be a long time before Sarah qualifies for that. Not that it would surprise me if she does it eventually,' he added wickedly for he could not resist goading them a little.

‘But she could run a company?' Leo demanded.

‘She has had a good deal of experience over the last few years, and she covered for Lawrence very satisfactorily when he was ill.'

‘
Lawrence
!' Leo said rudely and drew an annoyed glance from Gilbert. Lawrence might not have been the world's most efficient businessman but one did not ridicule the dead. It simply was not done.

‘Well, I shall certainly oppose any such suggestion,' Leo said vehemently. ‘Where do you stand on this, Isaacs?'

The little Jew tugged at his beard thoughtfully. ‘It is a risk, it's true. We could end up in serious trouble.'

‘Exactly!' Leo's tone was triumphant.

‘On the other hand if we do not move forward we could find ourselves atrophied. As Mr Morse has pointed out, sometimes to try to stand still is to find oneself slipping backwards. These are difficult times – a wrong move could be fatal. But so could an opportunity lost.'