Wings (20 page)

On the drive to Newport Beach, the company representative gave her a list of appointments for the week, a review of their latest planes, a test flight in each of them, a press conference with all the most important members of the local press, and a newsreel. The secretary then gave her a list of social events she was expected to attend with and without any of several escorts, and a few with Mr. Williams. It was more than a little overwhelming. But she was even more overcome when she saw the apartment they had rented for her. It was in Newport Beach, and it had a bedroom, a living room, and a dining room, all overlooking the ocean. It had spectacular views, and a terrace which surrounded it. The refrigerator was stocked, the furniture was beautiful, there were Italian linens in the drawers. And she was told that a maid would attend to her needs if she wished to entertain, and she would clean the apartment daily.

“I… oh, my Lord!” Cassie exclaimed as she opened a drawer full of lace tablecloths. Her mother would have given her left arm to have any one of them, and Cassie couldn't begin to imagine why she had them. “What are these for?”

“Mr. Williams thought you'd like to entertain,” his personal secretary, Miss Fitzpatrick, said primly. She was twice Cassie's age, and she had gone to school at Miss Porter's in the East. She knew very little about planes, but she knew everything there was to know about all things social, and the proper decorum.

“But I don't know anyone here,” Cassie laughed as she spun around, looking at the apartment. She had never dreamed of anything even remotely like it. She was dying to tell someone, or show them. Billy, Nick… her sisters… her mom… but there was no one here. Just Cassie, and her entourage. And when she looked in the bedroom, she found all her new clothes neatly arranged for her. There were four or five well-cut suits in an array of somber colors, several hats to match, a long black evening dress and two short ones. There were even shoes and some handbags. Everything was in the sizes she had given them. And in a smaller closet in the room, she found all her uniforms. They were navy blue, and looked extremely official. There was even a small hat that had been designed for it, and regulation shoes. And for a moment, she almost felt her heart sink. Maybe Nick was right. Maybe she was going to be a Skygirl.

Everything was so regimented and prearranged, it was all like a very strange dream. It was like being dropped into someone else's life, with their clothes, and their apartment. It was hard to believe this was all hers now.

There was a young woman waiting for Cassie too. She was neatly dressed in a gray suit, with a matching hat. She had a warm smile, lively blue eyes, and well-cut dark blond hair that hung to her shoulders in a smooth page boy. And she appeared to be in her early thirties.

‘This is Nancy Firestone,” Miss Fitzpatrick explained. “She will be your chaperone, whenever Mr. Williams feels that one is needed. She can help you with whatever needs you have, handle the press, escort you to meetings and luncheons.” The young woman introduced herself to Cass, and gave her a warm smile as she showed her around the apartment. A chaperone? What would she do with her? Leave her on the runway when she tested planes? After seeing all of it, Cassie was beginning to wonder if she'd even have time to fly one.

‘It's all a little overwhelming at first,” Nancy Firestone said sympathetically. “Why don't you let me unpack for you, and then we can talk about your schedule over lunch?” Nancy said, as Cassie glanced around, feeling lost. She had noticed a maid in the kitchen making sandwiches and a salad. She was an older woman in a black uniform, and she seemed perfectly at home there. Far more than Cassie felt at the moment. She couldn't help wondering what she was going to do with all these people. It was obvious that they were there to help, and Desmond Williams had certainly provided every possible creature comfort. He had done more than that. He had provided a dream for her. But suddenly all she felt was desperately lonely among all these strangers. And Nancy Firestone seemed to sense that. That was why Williams had hired her. He knew her well, and had assessed instantly that she was just what Cassie needed.

“Are we going out to look at the planes today?” Cassie asked mournfully. At least that was something she understood, and she was a lot more interested in planes than in what she'd seen in her closet. At least the Planes were familiar to her, and this glamorous lifestyle wasn't. She hadn't come to California to play dress-up. She had come to fly airplanes. And amid all the hats and shoes and gloves, and people who were there to take care of her, she wondered if she'd ever get a chance to fly one. Suddenly, all Cassie wanted was her simple life in Illinois, and a hangar full of her father's airplanes.

“We'll go out to the airfield tomorrow,” Nancy said kindly. She knew instinctively, and from everything Desmond had said, that she had to treat Cassie gently. This was a whole new world for her, and he had warned Nancy that she would be new to all this and probably a little startled at first, but she was also headstrong and independent. He didn't want her suddenly deciding that this wasn't for her. He wanted her to like it. “Mr. Williams didn't want to wear you out on the first day,” she smiled warmly, as they sat down and helped themselves to sandwiches. But Cassie wasn't hungry.

“You have a press conference at five o'clock. The hairdresser is coming here at three. And we have a lot to talk about before that.” She made it sound as though they were just two girls getting ready for a party, and Cassie's head was spinning as she listened. Williams's secretary, Miss Fitzpatrick, left the apartment then, after pointing to a stack of briefing papers Mr. Williams wanted her to have about his planes. And she said tersely that Mr. Williams would come by to pick her up between four and four-thirty.

“He's taking you to the press conference,” Nancy explained as the door closed behind Miss Fitzpatrick. She made it sound like a great honor, and Cassie knew it was. But it terrified her anyway. They all did. All Cassie could do by then was stare at Nancy Firestone in dismay and amazement. What was all this? What did it mean? What was she doing here? And what did any of it have to do with airplanes? Nancy read her face easily and tried to reassure her.

“I know it's a little startling at first,” Nancy smiled calmly. She was a pretty woman, but there was something sad in her eyes that Cassie had noticed the moment she saw her. But she seemed determined to make Cassie feel at ease in these unfamiliar surroundings.

“I don't even know where to start,” Cassie admitted to her, suddenly feeling an overwhelming urge to cry, but she knew that she couldn't. They were all being so good to her, but there was so much to absorb and understand, the clothes, the appointments, what they expected of her, what she had to say to the press. All she really wanted to do was learn about the planes, and instead she had to worry about how she looked and dressed, and if she sounded intelligent or grown-up enough. It was terrifying, and even Nancy Firestone's warmth was of very little comfort.

At first glance, it almost seemed as though they had brought her out for show and not for flying. “What do they want with me?” Cassie asked her honestly as they sat looking out at the Pacific. “Why did he bring me out here?” She was almost sorry she'd come now. It was just too scary.

“He brought you here,” Nancy answered her, “because I hear you're one of the best pilots he's ever seen. You must be terrific, Cassie. Desmond doesn't impress easily. And he hasn't stopped talking about you since he saw you at the air show. But he brought you here because you're a woman too, and not just an amazing pilot. And to Desmond, that's very important.” In some ways, women were important to him. In others, they mattered not at all. But Nancy didn't explain that to Cassie. Desmond Williams liked to have women around when they served his purposes, but he attached himself to no one. “He thinks that women sell planes better than men because they're more exciting. He thinks that women—women like you, that is—are the future of aviation. You're a terrific press bonus for him, and a great boost for public relations.” She didn't tell Cassie it was also because of her looks, but that was part of it. She was a real beauty, and if she hadn't been, she wouldn't have been there. Nancy knew he had been looking for someone like her for a long time, and he had talked to a lot of female pilots, and gone to a lot of air shows before he found her. This was an idea he had had for years, even before George Putnam discovered Amelia Earhart.

“But why me? Who cares about me?” Cassie asked innocently, still looking overwhelmed in spite of Nancy's encouragement and explanations. She still didn't understand it. She wasn't stupid, she was naive, and it was difficult for most people to conceive of a mind like Desmond Williams's. Nancy knew a lot about him, from her husband, before he died, testing one of Williams's planes, from the other pilots he knew, and from her own experiences since Skip had died. Desmond Williams had done a lot to help her. In many ways, he'd been a godsend. Yet there were things about him that were unnerving. There was a single-mindedness about him that was frightening at times. When he wanted something, or when he thought something would be good for the company, he would stop at nothing to get it.

He had been very good to her when Skip died, and he had done everything possible for her and her daughter. He had told her that she and Jane were part of the “family,” that Williams Aircraft would take care of them forever. He had opened a bank account for them, and all of their needs would be provided for. Jane's education was assured, and Nancy's pension. Skip had died for Desmond Williams, and he would never forget it. He had even bought a small house for them. And drawn up a contract. She was to remain an employee of Williams Aircraft for the next twenty years, doing projects such as these, nothing too unreasonable, or terribly wearing. But projects that required intelligence and loyalty. He reminded her subtly of how much he'd done for them, and suddenly she knew she had no choice but to do what he wanted. Skip had left them nothing but debts and sweet memories. And now, after all he'd done for her and Jane, Desmond Williams owned her. He kept her in a pretty little gilded cage, he made good use of her, he was fair, or at least he seemed to be, but he never let her forget that he owned her. She couldn't go anywhere, she couldn't leave; if she did, they'd have nothing again. She had no real training for anything, she'd be lucky to get a job, and Janie would never go to college. But if she stayed, she could keep what he'd given her. And Williams saw something useful in her, just as he did in Cassie. And what he wanted he got. He bought it, fair and square, and he paid a high price for it. But there was no mistaking his ownership once the contract was signed, and the purchase complete. He was a smart man, and he always knew what he wanted.

“Everyone will care about you eventually,” Nancy said quietly. She knew more about his plans than she intended to share with Cassie. He was a genius at dealing with the press, and creating a huge concept from a very small one. “The American public will come to love you. Women and planes are what's ahead of us now. Williams Aircraft makes the finest planes that fly, but to have that brought home to the public through your eyes, through
you
, is a very powerful thing. To have you identified with his planes will give them a special appeal, a special magic.” And Desmond Williams knew that. It was that that he wanted from Cassie. He'd been looking for years for a woman who embodied the American dream, young, beautiful, a simple girl with great looks, a good mind, and a brilliant flier. And much to everyone's amazement, he had finally found her in Cassie O'Malley. And what better fate for her? What more could she possibly have wanted? Nancy knew Cassie was a lucky girl, and even if there were strings attached eventually, even if he wanted lifetime fealty, he would make it up to her. She'd be famous and rich, and a legend, if she played her cards right. Even in Nancy's eyes, knowing just how tightly those strings could be tied, she thought that Cassie O'Malley was to be envied. Desmond was going to make her a star like no other.

“It's so strange though, when you think of it,” Cassie said, looking thoughtfully at Nancy. “I'm no one. I'm not jean Batten, or Amy Johnson, or anyone important. I'm a kid from Illinois who won four prizes at the local air show. So what?” she asked modestly, finally taking a bite of a perfectly made chicken sandwich.

“You're not ‘just a kid’ anymore,” Nancy said wisely, “or you won't be after five o'clock today.” She knew just how carefully Desmond had begun laying the groundwork from the moment she'd signed the contract. “And just how do you think those other women got started? Without someone like Desmond to publicize them, they'd never have happened.” Cassie listened, but she didn't agree with her. Their reputations were built on skill, not just on publicity, but Nancy clearly believed in what Williams was doing. “Earhart was what George Putnam made of her. Desmond has always been fascinated by that. He always felt that she was a lot less of a pilot than Putnam made her out to be, and maybe he was right.” Skip had thought so too, and as Nancy thought of it, she looked at Cassie sadly. Cassie was intrigued by Nancy, though there was a lot she liked about her, and yet there was a part of her that seemed very removed. She seemed both enthusiastic about what lay ahead for Cassie, and maybe even a little bit jealous. She made it all sound like such a great deal, and she spoke of “Desmond” as though she knew him better than she would ever have admitted. Watching her, Cassie couldn't help wondering if there was anything between them, or maybe she just admired him a great deal, and wanted to be sure that Cassie appreciated everything he had done for her. It was all a lot to absorb and analyze in one afternoon, as they sorted through Cassie's things, and Nancy tried to explain the importance of “marketing” to her. Like Desmond, Nancy thought it was everything. It was what made people buy the products other people made. In this case, planes. Cassie was part of a larger plan. What she was, what she would be, was a tool to sell airplanes. It was an odd concept to her, and when the hairdresser arrived, she was still trying to understand it.