I observed, ‘Irma was Tommo’s girl. I met her in the Black Forest or somewhere.’
‘I didn’t know if you’d mind.’
I nodded. I wasn’t going to tell him that if I minded it was because I’d rather fancied her myself.
‘Life goes on, Bozey; even if sometimes we don’t want it to. Tommo wouldn’t mind.’
‘Halton does. I think he’d rather have you back where he can see you, until you ship out.’
‘I know. I was just running away from it for a couple of days. I’ll get the next flight out.’
That was that really. I jumped a BOAC York into the new airport at Heathrow. I can’t say I liked the place; it hadn’t the style of Croydon. There was something about the new terminal building that reminded me of a refurbished toilet in a three-star hotel. I’ve flown out of there hundreds of times since and never changed my mind.
Old Man Halton had a new office at the Cargo Side so I sidled over there for a showdown. The door of the office was the same colour as our aircraft – red. I reckoned he was angling to get the mail contracts away from BOAC and BEA. The receptionist behind the small counter in the front office was a redhead. She was wearing a red suit, but was about two sizes too big for it . . . which was interesting. The smile on her face was upside down. I reckoned she’d look quite interesting upside down, but I didn’t have a chance – the Old Man came out from his own place as soon as he heard my voice. He smiled as he pulled me through, and said, ‘Don’t bother to ask her out, Charlie. She’s already quit.’
‘So would I, sir, if you dressed me up like a carrot.’
He laughed, and began to cough a cough that had started in the trenches at Loos, and had held out for thirty-six years so far. He poured us a couple of fingers of Dimple each – it wasn’t his favourite tipple, but there seemed to be a fair bit of it around – and waved me to a seat across the desk from him. His slow cough rumbled all that time, like thunder in the distance, and whenever he finished it left him breathless.
‘You should see a doctor about that,’ I told him.
‘I do: all the time. Frieda nags me about it.’
I noticed how quickly he’d brought her name into it, but ignored that.
‘What do they say?’
‘That I died several years ago, but no one noticed. Cheers.’
He’d told me the joke before. I raised my glass, wondering if it was the last drink he’d pour me before I was sacked.
‘Cheers. I’m sorry I ran off to Berlin, boss; I needed a couple of days to think. Getting called up was a bit of a shock. Nothing happened while I was away.’
‘I know.’
‘Did I cause a problem?’
‘The War Office became a little agitated. The woman who phoned me seemed to think that you weren’t above setting off another little war, if you were sufficiently browned off.’ That made me smile. I wondered if she had been Dolly, but then remembered Dolly was off getting married somewhere.
‘What did you say?’
‘That if you wanted to start a war I wouldn’t dream of stopping you, and since they hadn’t a chance of catching you, they should just cross their fingers and wait for you to come back . . .’
‘And?’
‘And she put the phone down on me. Best thing all week.’ He engaged in a bout of explosive coughing again, and I played advantage by not giving him a chance. As soon as he finished I said, ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t marry Frieda. We don’t like each other enough. I don’t want to hurt you or Mrs Halton, but that’s just how it is.’
Halton went into displacement activity. He got us another couple of drinks: bigger ones this time. Then he sighed, and almost mumbled, ‘I always knew you’d stand aside as soon as you found out Charlie . . . always knew you’d do the right thing. Thank you.’
I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, so I tried to look intelligent and hoped for the best. ‘That’s all right, boss.’
‘How long have you known about Robert?’
I hadn’t known about Robert at all, but, whoever the bastard was, he’d appeared at the right time to give me a way out. I hope that I now lied smoothly. When you lie to people you like it’s important to do it well.
‘Since it started, probably. Are they serious?’
‘She says she loves him.’ He sounded like a caring guardian, but undid the sentence with a shrug.
‘Maybe my going a couple of thousand miles away isn’t a bad idea at the moment.’ I told him. ‘She can go out without worrying that I’m around the next corner.’
‘Do you think that would concern her?’
‘It’s what another woman I knew once told me, and I trusted her judgement – still do, but don’t know where she is.’
I could see the conversation was in danger of becoming maudlin, so I switched the points on him and we talked about the airline business and, as it turned out, the road haulage and coach travel businesses, because the Old Man was branching out. He’d bought five big Fodens and a couple of Duple coaches, and based them at Watford – not too far from where we sat. Halton Air was now just an arm of Halton Transport, although I hoped that
