got my note, then?’ he asked.
I paused by the propeller and looked him in the face. ‘Note?’
His expression was perfection – there is nothing more satisfying than witnessing the sudden onset of self-doubt in an overly-confident man.
‘Yes, note,’ he repeated. ‘I delivered it to Lanyon myself, this morning. I asked the maid to take it to you directly.’
I shook my head before unclipping the stowage door. I removed my tool bag and a spare set of overalls and dropped them onto the barn floor.
‘I received no note this morning.’ I glanced up at him again, pulling the overalls on over my flying boots. ‘What did it say?’
‘Say?’ Edward was rubbing his temple now.
‘Yes. The note?’
He considered this.
‘Well, it, er … it …’
I rummaged unnecessarily in the bag before taking out a spanner, stood to my full height – all five foot five inches – and looked up at him.
‘It said that I’d …’ He glanced around the barn, still considering his next sentence.
‘That you’d?’
‘Well, that I’d be here – waiting for you – in case you were free to take me flying this afternoon. You did offer. I’m sure you did.’
I walked around to the engine housing and lifted the casing away.
He followed me.
‘Pass me my tool bag, would you?’
He sighed, picked up the bag and joined me by the engine. I took an oil-stained scarf out of the bag and tied my hair back before finding another rag to check the oil.
‘So, how about it?’ he said, watching me.
‘How about what?’
‘The flight you offered – my flight. How about it?’
I paused to look at him.
‘Today?’ I asked. ‘Right now?’
‘Yes.’
I shook my head and returned to the engine. ‘That’s not possible. Today is a day for essential maintenance. She was a bit sticky in the rudder on the way down and I want to sort it out.’
‘You do?’ he said, his voice playful. ‘You need to sort it out? You’re doing the maintenance?’
Not this again.
‘Yes, Mr Nancarrow. I’m doing the maintenance.’
‘But, how …?’
‘My father wouldn’t allow me to fly solo until I knew how to fix her. He’d say, “There’s absolutely no point gallivanting off around the countryside if you can’t fix your own kite, you know, Juliet, no point at all!” I know exactly what I’m doing, but if you aren’t happy with that state of affairs then I suggest you find someone else to take you flying – a man, perhaps. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m very busy and I suppose you’ll be wanting to be on your way.’
I turned back to the engine.
He smiled then and his shoulders relaxed. I didn’t see the smile or the relax, but I felt them. And then a hand rested gently on my shoulder.
‘You misunderstand me,’ he said. ‘I think it’s wonderful that you know how to maintain her. Truly. And I’d be honoured to fly with you. Today, tomorrow, the next day. Whenever you’re free.’ His hand fell but I didn’t turn around. ‘Perhaps, like you said yesterday, we can shake hands and start again. I have a feeling that I was a bit of a pompous ass yesterday. It’s just, at the time I thought you were very lucky not to crash, and that would have been a terrible waste. I don’t like waste. I’ve seen a lot of unnecessary waste in my life and I over-reacted, I’m sorry.’
I turned to face him, the spanner still in my hand. I eyed him as a mouse would eye a smiling ferret. ‘Start again?’ I asked.
His eyes flashed brightly. ‘Exactly! Let’s pretend this is the first time we ever met, right here, right now …’
I hesitated.
‘I suppose I can do that. You were … quite, helpful yesterday, after all. But I still can’t take you up today …’ I softened ‘no matter how sweetly you smile …’
He laughed. I laughed. It was nice. Too nice. I remembered Charles.
‘But I really must get on. I have the engine to finish and then I really do need to take a good look at that rudder. Let’s say … same time tomorrow, and if the weather is fine, I’ll take you up.’
He visibly deflated. I turned back towards the engine.
‘Sorry, yes, I’ll leave you to it,’ he said to my back. ‘Till tomorrow, then?’
I nodded without looking around. I didn’t want to be rude or play with him, truly, but there was something in his smile, in the touch of his hand on my shoulder. He interrupted my thoughts by turning at the barn door.
‘I don’t suppose you’re free later this afternoon. Say, in a couple of hours, or so?’
I bent to glance at him under the wing.
‘Today?
‘Today.’
‘This afternoon?’
‘Yes. They’re putting on an afternoon tea and an early Christmas party for the children in the village hall. I’ve been asked to help out – organise games, play the guitar, that kind of thing – and I thought you might like to come, if you’ve finished here, that is.’
I considered the afternoon ahead. There was no sticky rudder. I made that up. Charles was out with his father and Lottie was sleeping. There really was no reason for me to say no, and yet, there was every reason for me to say no.
‘I don’t understand this change in you,’ I said. ‘You were quite … shouty, yesterday.’
‘Shouty?’
‘Yes, shouty. And now you seek my company, even though I’m an irresponsible and spoiled little rich girl.’
He tilted his head to one side.
‘I didn’t say that.’
I waited for him to think about it.
‘Well, not those exact words.’
‘Thank you for the offer,’ I said, suddenly coming to my senses, ‘but I’m not really dressed for …’
‘Nonsense! You look perfect!’ His eyes were so bright. So alive. So blue. ‘Come on, it will be fun! Come coddiwomple with me.’
Now, that got me. I smiled.
‘Coddiwomple?’
He nodded. We were still communicating through the gap between the two wings of the Tiger Moth.
‘I never heard of such a word.’
‘Oh, it’s a word,’ he said. ‘And I’ll tell you what it means if you come with me. How about I treat you to afternoon tea? Look, I’d love to know all about the flying circus, and I’d love to talk to you about flying, that’s all. I want to know about the flying fox. You, well, you fascinate me, Juliet.’
Fascinate? Well …
I knew I should walk away, stride out of the barn, open the gate, march up the hill and not look back. But the fire in his eyes was just too bright. It’s always the eyes that get you. He drew me in and I so desperately wanted to be drawn in.
‘All right,’ I said, in as nonchalant a manner I could muster. ‘Why