Where Earth Meets Sky (52 page)

Cosmo did not respond or open his eyes, and angry as she was with him, she was frightened by the expression of utter wretchedness on his face.

‘We’ve got to get shot of him – he’s a drunk and a fool and there’s no telling what he’ll do next!’

There was silence. The two of them were in the work shed at Brooklands and Sam was bent over the engine of the Heath Flyer.

‘Sam!’

Sam straightened up, his expression grim. They had come back from Cranbourne the day before, very late, and he knew Loz had been working up to this.

‘You know I’m right. You’re all pandering to that spoilt brat because you’re afraid to say no. He’s no good – he’s a bloody menace. That Larstonbury fellow can afford to hire any driver he wants, we’ve built him a bloody good motor and here we are risking it with that
halfwit
Fairford, who can’t get through a morning without sucking at a Scotch bottle like a . . . a
baby
. Christ, what a shower! I’ve never seen anything so ridiculous. And you just take it all. “Yes, Major Larstonbury, no, Major Larstonbury, three bags full, Major Larstonbury.”’

‘No, I don’t!’ Sam’s temper began to flare now. ‘But he’s the one with the money. If he pulls out on us we’ve nothing!’

Sam found he was shouting. He knew this was only part of the story, but he couldn’t put into words the confusion of emotions he felt. He had to put up with Cosmo because of the money, it was true, but if he had gone to Piers Larstonbury and suggested they take on a different driver, he knew Piers would listen, even despite the fact the man was clearly helping Cosmo to please Lily. But there was also his old loyalty to Cosmo’s father Charles, to the new, tender emotions he felt towards Susan Fairford, and because . . . Lily, there was always Lily, and her devotion to Cosmo – and because he felt as if he was going to explode with all the conflict and muddle inside him. He was still haunted by the wail he had heard Lily let out when she saw Cosmo lying on the stretcher. Her anguish had pierced deep into his heart and his first impulse had been to run and take her in his arms.

They had brought the car back on the trailer to Brooklands with full encouragement from Piers Larstonbury to get her roadworthy again.

‘D’you think you’ll be ready by the September meeting?’ he asked. ‘She’s in a dreadful mess, I can see.’

‘Oh, I think so,’ Sam said. It was terrible to see the Flyer in that crushed state but already he was making mental notes of what needed doing. The bodywork would need replacing completely. Cosmo had taken the curve of the hill far too fast, showing off, of course. She’d turned over and rolled. God alone knew how Cosmo had got out with barely a scratch. Must’ve had the patron saint of drunkards on his side, Sam thought bitterly. Types like that always seemed to get out of trouble and inflict it on everyone else.

He had known Loz would explode sooner or later, and this was only the first of an increasing number of rows that started with Loz over Cosmo. The arrival of Cosmo a week later, still wincing in pain from his ribs, infuriated Loz even more.

‘He’s a liability,’ he ranted to Sam after Cosmo had come into the shed to see the work on the car, the unmistakable aroma of Scotch hanging round him like a mist. ‘We’ve given him a chance and he was all right to start with, I grant you. But he’s shown his true colours now. He’s hardly ever bloody sober! For God’s sake, Sam, we’ve only got this year and we’ll be back to square one if we don’t get somewhere with this. In fact . . .’ He wiped his oily hands on a rag and flung it over on to the bench. ‘I’m wondering whether I want anything more to do with it!’

Sam knew that Loz was in a different position from him. He had no emotional entanglements with this project and he was also missing Mary and his boys.

‘Well, you make up your bloody mind whether you’re staying or going,’ Sam said, ‘and stop keeping on.’

He was furious himself. He didn’t want to fall out with his old friend Loz. He didn’t want Cosmo Fairford as his driver. But without Cosmo there might be no Piers Larstonbury, no car . . . And, still such a strong factor, yet one which he could hardly admit, no Lily.

‘They’re ready! It’s time for the off!’

Once again Lily stood in the crowd of spectators beside Susan Fairford, but this time they were at Brooklands for the September race meeting. The Heath Flyer, newly restored, was entered in the first handicap race.

Lily thought of Sam down beside the finishing straight with Piers and Loz, of all the passion they had poured into the Flyer. And Cosmo was in the driver’s seat.
Oh, keep him calm – let him drive his very best. At his best he’s so brilliant, has so much nerve and skill . . .

‘How did he seem this morning?’ Susan had come up from the south coast, arriving late so that she had not seen Cosmo before he was marshalled for the race. Lily could see that Susan was even more nervous than she was. She tried to push from her mind what she had heard between Susan and Sam at Cranbourne last month, all her hurt and jealousy. After all, had she not pushed Sam away?

‘Oh, he was in fine form,’ Lily said. ‘Absolutely full of beans. Talking nineteen to the dozen.’ In fact, she had not seen Cosmo so talkative or full of energy for a very long time. ‘He said he felt ready, and his ribs are healed now.’

Once again Susan was chewing at her fingers, her blue eyes troubled. ‘I’ll be so glad when all this is over.’

There was a roar in the distance from the crowd, accompanied immediately by the acceleration of all the engines as the race began. Lily and Susan craned their necks to see the cars approach in a loud, buzzing mass like a swarm of giant bees.

‘There he is – oh, Lord God!’ Susan gasped. ‘Oh, Cozzy, be careful!’

Lily found herself holding her breath as the scattering of cars roared past them along the alarming tilt of the steep Brooklands track. The Flyer looked like a sleek silver teardrop whizzing past, so fast that she could not catch a proper glimpse of Cosmo’s face under his leather flying helmet, but only his shape, braced as he grasped the wheel of the rushing car, and then they were gone round the bend, the buzzing roar fading.

‘Imagine how it would be without the silencers!’ Lily said, rubbing her ears. Silencers were compulsory at Brooklands races.

‘Oh, this is awful,’ Susan said tremulously. ‘I worry so about him. He’ll kill himself doing it, I’m sure he will. So many of them have . . .’ She craned her neck looking along the track, head topped by a snug green hat, just showing the ends of her pale hair. Lily saw she had lately had her hair cut like her own, in a neat bob.

With each lap they relaxed fractionally. It felt as if Cosmo was in command, was holding on well among the other vehicles, many of them company-built ones.

‘There’s the Austin,’ Lily pointed as they rushed past. She was about to say how pleased Sam would be to beat them on lap times, but she decided not to mention Sam.

Round and round they sped, burning along the tilted outer circuit of track. By the end of the race two cars had had to drop out with mechanical troubles but otherwise all went well and during the last lap Lily found herself almost shaking with relief. He had done it – and he had done it well!

There was another swell of sound from the crowd as the cars tore along the finishing straight and at last the air quietened to a lull, filled with excited chatter and the bookies calling out from their stalls along the track.

‘Oh – I feel as if I’ve just lived a hundred years!’ Susan said, shakily.

Lily felt drained as well.

‘Sometimes I think it’s worse watching than doing it,’ she laughed. She wondered how Sam was feeling. Was he pleased with the result?

They did not get to the men until some time later, when they had agreed to meet for lunch, and they could immediately see that everyone was in glowing form. Piers was the first person they saw, waiting for them at the edge of the paddock as they had agreed so that they could come in as his guests for the meal. He beamed as he saw them approaching.

‘What a morning, eh?’ he cried, his pale, rather donnish face crinkled with enthusiasm. ‘Your son has done us proud, Mrs Fairford. We’re all delighted. A very respectable lap time – averaged 83.7 miles per hour! He was in marvellous form – come along and join us all for luncheon! Over here.’ He indicated their picnic spot on the grass. ‘As you see, we’re dining
al fresco
!’

For the first time in a long time, as Lily sat down on the warm rug, she saw Sam turn to her and smile, a smile which she realized may not have been particularly directed at her, but somehow also encompassed her in the jubilation of the moment. Those seconds lifted her even more than Cosmo’s success and she smiled back happily. For those few seconds his eyes rested on her face and they were caught in each other’s gaze.

‘Oh, well done, my darling! What a marvellous morning you’ve had!’ Susan went to kiss Cosmo on the top of the head, and for once he did not react with resentment. He was very flushed in the face, eyes bright, and seemed high-wired and taut with success.

They had a light luncheon of cold meats and salad and a crisp white wine and the men all talked excitedly.

‘What about going for a land speed record?’ Cosmo said. His voice seemed raised a little too loudly. Lily could sense the vibrations of excitement coming from him. He was electric with it, though his moods seem to shift from moment to moment. ‘We could go to Pendine Sands – I could take her faster than today if we were on the flat. She can go like the wind . . .’

‘What’s the current record?’ Piers Larstonbury asked.

‘It’s a hundred and thirty-three point seven over the mile,’ Sam said. ‘That was here – back in May. Fellow called Guinness.’

‘Well, what do you think, Ironside?’

Lily watched as Sam considered the idea, his face serious. In that moment, watching him, she knew he would always affect her by his presence.

‘It’d certainly be interesting to try. I doubt she’s up to that. It’d test our ratios all right – a new engine possibly . . .’

He and Loz began a technical conversation about what might be needed for more speed, to which Piers listened avidly. Cosmo ate his plateful of food ravenously.

‘That’s right,’ Susan said to him. ‘You need to keep your strength up for this afternoon.’

The Flyer had been entered, daringly, for one of the International Class races, competing against models from all over the world.

‘I’m flying, Mater,’ Cosmo told her, fizzily. ‘You wait and see. There’s nothing can stop me.’

‘Here we go!’ Susan cried. All eyes were turned in the same direction and once again the posse of cars came careering round the bend into view at frightening speed. The Heath Flyer was there among them, in the middle, and the two women gasped with relief.

‘Go on, Cosmo – drive her!’ Susan yelled, in a way quite out of character. ‘Go on, go on!’

‘He’s doing fine!’ Lily shouted in excitement.

There was a lull as they waited for the next lap. Cosmo was so full of it he would probably have overtaken a few of them by the time they next saw him. The first cars appeared, screaming their way round the track. Lily narrowed her eyes. Where was the Flyer? To her surprise, Cosmo had slipped back a little, was not holding his own as they might have expected.

‘Oh dear!’ Susan said.

There seemed nothing else to say and they watched dismally, waiting and hoping that during the next lap he would pick up and overtake.

But the next lap brought an even more worrying picture. As the cars spun round into view there was not a sign of Cosmo, not at first.

‘He must be in trouble,’ Lily said. ‘Perhaps the engine’s packed up . . .’

But then, there he was, second from the back, and by the next lap he was trailing way behind everyone else, to the point where there rose a joking kind of jeer from the crowd, seeing Cosmo moving along the track at an apparently leisurely speed.

‘That one’s out for a Sunday afternoon pleasure cruise!’ a man joked near then, and everyone around laughed. ‘Looks as if he’s dozed off at the wheel!’

Anguished, Lily strained her eyes to try and see Cosmo. He looked quite composed, very still as he drove, but he was losing speed all the time, the car following a more and more erratic course along the track.

‘Looks as if he’s had a few as well,’ the man next to them suggested. ‘Well, that’s a bit of a joke – look at that!’

By the time the lap came round again, they stood on tiptoe, straining to see if he was trailing in their wake, but this time there was no sign of Cosmo at all.

‘Dear God,’ Susan said uneasily. ‘Something’s gone badly wrong this time. Oh, I do hope he’s all right . . .’

‘He could be anywhere,’ Lily said miserably.

Not knowing what else to do, they waited among the crowd, willing Cosmo to appear. The race still had a couple more laps to go and they heard them coming round again, roaring and then receding, and still no Flyer. Then, moments later, Susan cried, ‘Oh, look – there!’

On the near side of the track at the very bottom of the slope they caught sight of the silver gleam of Flyer’s bodywork. Moving closer they saw that she had ground to a standstill alongside the bottom edge of the track.