Wings (32 page)

“Yes, I am. But I haven't told Desmond.”

“No wonder he called yesterday,” Nick groaned in anguish. He couldn't believe she was going to do it. He had taught her himself. He knew that she was capable of great things, but not this… not yet… not now… and maybe never.

“He called to see how I was, and how Dad was.”

“How touching.” And then he looked at her in fresh rage. “And that'll be the next thing, won't it?”

“What will?” She didn't understand him and neither did Pat, but Nick was off on a new tangent.

“More publicity. More stunts. It was no accident last year when he took you to that restaurant to go dancing and had his picture taken with you. It kept things exciting in the press, mysterious… but he'll have to go a lot further than that now, to make things interesting, to keep it going. How much do you want to bet he'll ask you to many him?” Nick said in a complete rage over it, and Cassie looked at him in disgust, and her father in amusement. He had never seen his old friend have a jealous fit before but that was clearly what this was, and it amused him.

“That's the most disgusting thing I've ever heard,” Cassie accused him, but he was sure of it.

And Pat shared wise words with him. “if you've told her you won't marry her under any circumstances when you get back, and you won't even write to the girl now, what exactly do you expect? For her to enter a convent for the rest of her life, or stay a virgin? She has a right to a life, Nick. If not with you, then with someone else. And he seemed a decent man, if you ask me, whatever commercial motives he might have over this trip, or about his publicity. He's selling airplanes. He has to do what he can to make them interesting, and if having them flown by a pretty girl, who happens to be a damn fine pilot, I might add, works for him, then more power to him. And if you don't want to marry her and he does, then I don't think you've got much to say about it, do you?” Cassie had to hide a smile as she listened to him. She had never heard her father make a speech like that, and the best part of it was that he was right. But Nick didn't want to admit it.

“He doesn't love her, Fat… I do.”

“Then marry her,” Pat said quietly, and walked out of the room, to give them some time alone. They needed it more than any two people he knew, but an hour later they were still fighting and had gotten nowhere. He was accusing her of either being naive or leading Desmond on, and she was accusing him of being infantile. It was a hell of an afternoon, and by the end of the day, both of them were exhausted. And Nick had to fly back to New York in the morning.

They talked almost all night, and nothing was resolved. He kept reminding her that he was a thirty-nine-year-old man and he was not going to marry a child, and destroy her life.

“Then leave me alone!” she shouted at him, and went to bed finally, and the next morning before he left they were both still angry at each other.

“I forbid you to fly on the world tour,” he told her before he took off in his chartered plane, and she begged him to be reasonable and not give her ultimatums.

“Why can't we forget it for right now? It's not for another year, and you're leaving and going back to England.”

“I don't care if I'm flying to the moon, I don't want you to sign that contract.”

“You have no right to say that. Stop it, Nick!”

“No, I won't, goddammit, until you agree not to do it!”

“Well, I'm going to!” She shouted at him, her red hair flying in the wind, as he grabbed her and yanked her toward him.

“No, you're not.” He kissed her hard on the lips, but they both came up fighting.

“I am.”

“Shut up.”

“I love you.”

“Then don't do it.”

“Oh for God's sake.” He kissed her again, but nothing was resolved by the time he left, predictably, and as he took off, she stood crying next to the runway. And five minutes later, she stormed into her father's office. “That man drives me nuts.”

“You two are going to kill each other one of these days. It's a wonder you haven't yet,” he said, smiling. “Stubborn as two mules. It really will be a shame if you don't get married one day. You deserve each other. Either of you would wear anyone else out,” And then he looked at her seriously for a long moment. “Do you think he's right, that Williams might ask you to marry him for publicity for the trip?”

“No, I do not.” She looked incensed. ‘The man is terrified of getting involved with anyone. He's had two disastrous marriages. And I think if he ever did marry again, it would have
to
be for love.”

“I hope so.” But he felt better to have heard her say it. “Has he shown any particular interest in you, Cassie?” Other than coming to Chris's funeral, which he had thought was damn fine of him, and he said so.

“Not really. We're just friends. Nick doesn't know what he's talking about.”

“Well, you could do a lot worse, if you don't marry that lunatic on his way back to England. I swear, he'll be the death of me one day. He and I used to have rows like that in the old days. Stubbornest sonofabitch I ever met.” Cassie didn't disagree with him, as she went back to the house to check on her mother.

She left Illinois the following week, and returned to Newport Beach, to her apartment, and to work, and to sign her new contract for another year at twice the money. And on her first day back, she went to talk to Desmond alone in his office.

“Is something wrong?” he asked nervously, standing up quickly as she came in. He always did that for her when she entered the room, and she liked it. “Fitzpat-rick said it was urgent.”

“That depends on how you look at it,” she said quietly. “I thought you'd want your answer about the world tour.” But he suddenly sensed from the look on her face that she didn't want to do it, and he could feel his heart sink.

“I… I understand, Cass… I thought probably after your brother… I don't suppose your parents were pleased… it wouldn't be fair to them…” He was trying to accept her decision gracefully, but it was a huge disappointment for him, and very painful. He wanted this so badly. He wanted to be part of it, and to help her do it.

“No, it wouldn't be fair to them,” she agreed. “And my dad wasn't pleased.” They had agreed not to tell her mother yet. “But he said it was my decision entirely, so that's how I made it.” He didn't say a word as he looked at her, and she came a step closer. “I'll do it, Desmond.”

“What?” he whispered.

“I'll do the tour. I want to do it for you.”

“Oh, my God.” He sank back into his chair with his eyes closed, and then he looked up and saw her. He leaped to his feet and came across his desk to kiss her. It was a chaste kiss, but it held all the fervent gratitude that he felt for her. Nothing had ever meant more to him. And nothing would ever again be as important. He would see to that. He had a thousand plans, and he was going to share all of them with her. They had an incredible year ahead of them. And as he sat down and started telling her, he held tightly to her hand, and kept thanking her. And she was happier than ever that she had decided to do it. To hell with Nick. This was her life.

15

T
he publicity (or the world tour began almost at once, with a huge announcement at a press conference in Newport Beach. This was followed by a series of announcements and brief lectures given by Cassie, all orchestrated and organized by Desmond. She spoke to men's and women's groups, political associations, and dubs. She was interviewed on radio, and there was a special newsreel just about her. Within two weeks the press was saturated with news of her coming tour. And then suddenly in mid-August Cassie was forced right off the front pages, by the escalation of the war in Europe. The Battle of Britain had begun, the blitz as it was called. The Luftwaffe was pounding England, in the hope of destroying it. And she knew without any doubt, just by being there, that Nick was in danger. No matter how angry at him she was, the news terrified her, and all she could think of now was Nick.

She called her father to see if he'd heard from him, but of course he hadn't, even by the end of August.

“I don't see how anything could get out, Cass. You just have to know he's all right I'm listed as his next of kin. I'll hear if anything happens.” It was small encouragement, and her father had agreed with her that he was sure that by now they had pressed Nick into active service. He wouldn't be teaching anymore, he'd be flying bombers or fighters. The Luftwaffe's entire goal was to destroy the RAF, so Cassie knew Nick had to be fighting to defend it. And knowing that worried her constantly. It seemed even more awful now to have left each other on such bad terms. She only hoped that he would be safe. Nothing else mattered.

Despite the war, Desmond continued to plan the tour very carefully, and with incredible precision. They had agreed on the plane she would take, and it was already being prepared and equipped with extraordinary new instruments, extra fuel tanks, and long-range tracking devices. With Desmond's meticulous attention to detail, Cassie felt sure that they were proceeding safely.

The only real difficulty they had, and major change, was with their route, because of the war in Europe. By 1940, the war had spread to too many places. There were areas of the Pacific that weren't safe, laige parts of North Africa, and of course all of Europe. It had become impossible to think of circling the globe now. But there were still extraordinary records to be set, and enormous distances to cover. And with Desmond's heightened interest in warplanes, he was anxious to prove the reliability of his aircraft over vast expanses of ocean. In essence, they were going to circle the Pacific, doing eight legs in ten days, and covering fifteen thousand five hundred and fifty miles. Their plane was to fly from Los Angeles to Guatemala City, and from there to the Galápagos. From the Galápagos to Easter Island, and then on to Tahiti. From Tahiti to Pago Pago, and then on to Howland Island, where Desmond already had a brief ceremony in mind, to honor Amelia Earhart, and from Howland they would head for Honolulu. There would be celebrations there, of course, and he planned to meet them, and then he would fly back with them to San Francisco, for the final triumphant leg of their tour. He was disappointed not to have her circle the globe, but the Pacific tour, as he called it now, accomplished many of the same things. The world tour would just have to come later, after the war in Europe was over. And flying nearly sixteen thousand miles would establish almost all the same things for Cassie's reputation, and that of his airplanes. Cassie was impressed too by how sensibly he'd made the adjustment. In some ways, it disproved all the terrible things Nick had said about Desmond. He was not a madman, determined to kill her. Certainly that year, no one, mad or otherwise, would have attempted to fly through Europe.

Desmond arranged more press conferences for her in the fall, and saw to it that she was always in the news. He wanted all the attention possible focused on her. It was also a good diversion for people from the war in Europe. This was something wholesome and hopeful and exciting, and she looked so beautiful in every photograph that everyone was in love with her and wanted her to make it. People stopped her on the street now, and men hung out of cars to wave to her. People asked her to sign autographs. Nick was right in that sense, she was being treated like a movie star. But Desmond had slowed down her social life lately too. He seemed to want to keep her “pure” and free of romantic gossip. Nancy Firestone was still working with her, but she no longer arranged for escorts. If Cassie went anywhere important now, she went with Desmond. He said he could keep better control of things if he was there. They went to openings and premieres in Hollywood, they went out dancing at night, and to the theater. He was good company, and she enjoyed being with him, and since he got up as early as she did every day, he was happy to go home early. It was the perfect arrangement.

Meanwhile, Britain was still being pounded mercilessly by the Luftwaffe. And Cassie knew that her father had finally heard from Nick, and he'd been safe as recently as early October. He was flying Spitfires in the 54th Squadron, and he was still stationed at Hornchurch Aerodrome. He almost sounded as though he was enjoying it, and he promised that if he had anything to do with it, the Brits would soon be kicking the shit out of the Germans. His only mention of Cassie was to tell Pat to give his love to his very unreasonable daughter. So the battle between them was not yet over, but at least he was alive, which was a huge relief to all the O'Malleys.

Even Desmond had been kind enough to inquire about his welfare, and she told him what she knew. But at least by November, the Luftwaffe seemed to be easing up a little bit. Until then, the bombings had been incessant and relentless. Children had begun arriving in the States to be cared for until after the war, and her sister Colleen had taken in two of them, which touched Cassie deeply. They were adorable, and the poor things were still completely terrified when Cassie saw them over Thanksgiving. Funnily enough they were both redheads just like she was. Annabelle was three and Humphrey was four. They were brother and sister, and their parents had lost their home in London, and had no relatives in the country. The Red Cross had arranged for them to come to New York, and Billy had flown there to get them. And he was shocked when the children asked him, on the way back, if he was going to bomb the airport.

Like everyone else, Cassie had fallen completely in love with them. Having the two children there gave her mother something to worry about and caring (or them took her mind off missing Chris. It was particularly hard over Thanksgiving for everyone, but somehow they got through it, thankful for each other. Cassie went to see Jessie then too, while she was home for Thanksgiving, and she seemed to be getting over it better than the O'Malleys. She was young and eventually, for her, there would be someone else, but Cassie would never have another brother.

She ran into Bobby and Peggy too. And Cassie had correctly guessed that Peggy was pregnant. She congratulated them, and Bobby looked as though he had grown up and flourished since he'd gotten married. His father had died, and the grocery store was his now. He was still dreaming of a chain of stores across Illinois, but for the moment he was more excited about the baby.