She was mightily curious about his marriage. “I’m chasing my wife,” he had said, a surprisingly candid admission. She could see why a woman would run away from him. He was terribly good-looking, but he was also self-absorbed and insensitive. That was why it was so odd that he was running after his wife. He seemed the type who would be too proud. Nancy would have guessed he would say: “Let her go to hell.” Perhaps she had misjudged him.
She wondered what the wife was like. Would she be pretty? Sexy? Selfish and spoiled? A frightened mouse? Nancy would find out soon—if they could catch up with the Clipper.
The mechanic brought her a helmet and she put it on. Lovesey climbed aboard, shouting over his shoulder: “Give her a leg up, will you?” The mechanic, more courteous than his master, helped her put on her coat, saying: “It’s chilly up there, even when the sun shines.” Then he hoisted her up and she clambered into the backseat. He passed her overnight case to her and she stowed it under her feet.
As the engine turned over, she realized, with a shiver of nervousness, that she was about to take to the air with a total stranger.
For all she knew, Mervyn Lovesey might be a completely incompetent pilot, inadequately trained, with a poorly maintained plane. He could even be a white slaver, intent on selling her into a Turkish brothel. No, she was too old for that. But she had no reason to trust Lovesey. All she knew was that he was an Englishman with an airplane.
Nancy had flown three times before, but always in larger planes with enclosed cabins. She had never experienced an old-fashioned biplane. It was like taking off in an open-top car. They sped down the runway with the roar of the engine in their ears and the wind buffeting their helmets.
The passenger aircraft Nancy had flown in seemed to ease gently into the air, but this went up with a jump, like a racehorse taking a fence. Then Lovesey banked so steeply that Nancy held on tight, terrified she would fall out despite her safety belt. Did he even have a pilot’s license?
He straightened up and the little plane climbed rapidly. Its flight seemed more comprehensible, less miraculous, than that of a big passenger aircraft. She could see the wings and breathe the wind and hear the howl of the little engine, and she could feel how it stayed aloft, feel the propeller pumping air and the wind lifting the broad fabric wings, the way you could feel a kite riding the wind when you held its string. There was no such sensation in an enclosed plane.
However, being in touch with the little plane’s struggle to fly also gave her an uneasy sensation in the pit of her stomach. The wings were only flimsy things of wood and canvas; the propeller could get stuck, or break, or fall off; the helpful wind might change faithlessly and turn against them; there might be fog, or lightning, or hailstorms.
But all these seemed unlikely as the plane rose into the sunshine and turned its nose bravely toward Ireland. Nancy felt as if she were riding on the back of a big yellow dragonfly. It was scary but exhilarating, like a fairground ride.
They soon left the coast of England behind. She allowed herself a small moment of triumph as they headed west over the water. Peter would be boarding the Clipper soon, and as he did so would congratulate himself on having outwitted his clever older sister. But his jubilation would be premature, she thought with angry satisfaction. He had not got the best of her yet. He would get a dreadful shock when he saw her arrive in Foynes. She could hardly wait to see the look on his face.
She still had a fight ahead, of course, even after she had caught up with Peter. She would not defeat him just by appearing at the board meeting. She would have to convince Aunt Tilly and Danny Riley that they would do better to hold on to their shares and stick with her.
She wanted to expose Peter’s vicious behavior to them all, so that they would know how he had lied to his sister and plotted against her; she wanted to crush him and mortify him by showing them what a snake he was; but a moment’s reflection told her that was not the smart thing to do. If she let her fury and resentment show, they would think she was opposing the merger for purely emotional reasons. She had to talk coolly and calmly about the prospects for the future, and act as if her disagreement with Peter were merely a business matter. They all knew she was a better businessman than her brother.
Anyway, her argument made simple sense. The price they were being offered for their shares was based on Black’s profits, which were low because of Peter’s bad management. Nancy guessed they could make more just by closing down the company and selling off all the shops. But best of all would be to restructure the company according to her plan and make it profitable again.
There was another reason for waiting: the war. War was good for business in general and especially for companies such as Black’s, which supplied to the military. The U.S. might not get into the war, but there was sure to be a precautionary buildup. So profits were set to rise anyway. No doubt that was why Nat Ridgeway wanted to buy the company.
She brooded over the situation as they crossed the Irish Sea, blocking out her speech in her head. She rehearsed key lines and phrases, speaking them out loud, confident that the wind would whip the words away before they could reach the helmeted ears of Mervyn Lovesey a yard in front of her.
She became so absorbed in her speech that she hardly noticed the first time the engine faltered.
“The war in Europe will double this company’s value in twelve months,” she was saying. “If the U.S. gets into the war, the price will double again—”
The second time it happened, she snapped out of her reverie. The continuous high roar altered momentarily, like the sound of a tap with air trapped in the pipe. It recovered to normal, then changed again, and settled into a different note, a ragged, altogether feebler sound that made Nancy feel totally unnerved.
The plane began to lose height.
“What’s going on?” Nancy yelled at the top of her voice, but there was no response. Either he could not hear her or he was too busy to reply.
The engine note changed again, mounting higher, as if he had stepped on the gas; and the plane leveled out.
Nancy was agitated. What was happening? Was the problem serious or not? She wished she could just see his face, but it remained resolutely turned forward.
The engine sound was no longer constant. Sometimes it seemed to recover to its previous full-throated roar; then it would quaver again and become uneven. Scared, Nancy peered forward, trying to discern some change in the spin of the propeller, but she could see none. However, each time the engine stuttered the plane lost a little height.
She could not stand the tension any longer. She unbuckled her safety belt, leaned forward and tapped Lovesey’s shoulder. He turned his head to one side and she shouted in his ear: “What’s wrong?”
“Don’t know!” he yelled back.
She was too frightened to accept that. “What’s happening?” she persisted.
“Engine’s missing on one cylinder, I think.”
“Well, how many cylinders has it got?”
“Four.”
The plane suddenly lurched lower. Nancy hastily sat back and buckled up. She was a car driver, and she had a notion that a car could keep going with one cylinder missing. However, her Cadillac had twelve of them. Could a plane fly on three out of four cylinders? The uncertainty was torture.
They were losing height steadily now. Nancy guessed the plane could fly on three cylinders, but not for long. How soon would they fall into the sea? She gazed into the distance and, to her relief, saw land ahead. Unable to restrain herself, she undid her belt and spoke to Lovesey again. “Can we reach the land?”
“Don’t know!” he shouted.
“You don’t know anything!” she yelled. Fear turned her shout into a scream. She forced herself to be calm again. “What’s your best estimate?”
“Shut your mouth and let me concentrate!”
She sat back again. I may die now, she thought; and once again she fought down the panic and made herself think calmly. It’s lucky I raised my boys before this happened, she told herself. It will be hard for them, especially after losing their father in a car crash. But they’re men, big and strong, and they’ll never lack for money. They’ll be okay.
I wish I’d had another lover. It’s been ... how long? Ten years! No wonder I’m getting used to it. I might as
