But it was exciting. And it was that sense of excitement that carried me through to Christmas. The airfield hardened to iron as the cold gripped it. The runways gleamed white with frost in the sunshine on fine days. But mostly it was grey and cold with the ploughed-up earth black and ringing hard and metallic like solidified lava. There was no heating in the hangar. It had the chill dank smell of a tomb. Only the work kept us warm as we lathered ourselves daily into a sweat of exhaustion.

Saeton was working for engine completion on 20th December, installation by 23rd December and first test on Christmas Day. It was a tight schedule, but he wanted a clear week for tests. But though we worked far on into the night, we were behind schedule all the time and it was not until Christmas Eve that we completed that second engine. December and first test on Christmas Day. It was a tight schedule, but he wanted a clear week for tests. But though we worked far on into the night, we were behind schedule all the time and it was not until Christmas Eve that we completed that second engine.

The final adjustments were made at eight-thirty in the evening. We were dead beat and we stood in front of the gleaming ma.s.s of metal in a sort of daze. None of us said a word. We just stood back and looked at it. I produced a packet of cigarettes and tossed one to Saeton. He lit it and drew the smoke into his lungs as though smoke alone could ease the tension of his nerves. 'All right, fill her up with oil, Tubby, and switch on the juice. I'll get Diana. She'd like to be in on this.' He went over to the phone and rang the quarters. I helped fill up with oil. We checked that there was petrol in the wall tank, tightened the unit of the petrol feed and switched on.

There was a tense silence as we waited for Diana. Five weeks' work stood before us and a touch of the starter b.u.t.ton would tell us whether we'd made a job of it. It wasn't like an engine coming out of a works. There everything moves with an inevitable progression from the foundry and the lathes and the electrical shop to the a.s.sembly and the final running in. This was different. Everything had been made by hand. One tiny slip in any of the precision work ... I thought of how tired we were. It seemed incredible that everything would work smoothly.

A knock on the door of the hangar sounded incredibly loud in the silence. Tubby went to the door and let his wife in. 'Well, there it is, Diana,' Saeton said, pointing to the thing. His voice trembled slightly. 'Thought you'd like to see what your cooking has given birth to.' Our laughter was uneasy, forced. 'Okay, Tubby. Let her go.' He turned away with a quick nervous twist of his shoulders and walked down to the far end of the bench. He wasn't going to touch that starter switch himself. He wasn't even going to watch. He stood with his back towards us, puffing at his cigarette, his hands playing aimlessly with the pieces of metal lying on the bench.

Tubby watched him, hesitating.

'Go on - start it.' Saeton's voice was a rasp.

Tubby glanced at me, swallowed nervously and crossed to the starter motor which was already connected up. He pressed the switch. It groaned, overloaded with the stiffness of the metal. The groaning sound went on and on. He switched off and went over to the engine, his practised eye running over it, checking. Then he went back to the starter motor. The groaning sound was faster now, moving to a hum. There was a sharp explosion. The engine rocked. The hum of the starter took over again and then suddenly the stillness of the hangar was shattered by a roar as the motor picked up. The whole building seemed to shake. Tubby switched off, hurried to the engine and adjusted the controls. When he started it again, the roar settled to a steady, glorious hum of power, smooth and even like the dynamos of a power station.

Saeton ground out his cigarette and came back along the bench. His face was shining with sweat. 'She's okay,' he shouted above the din. It was part statement, part question. Tubby looked up from the controls and his fat, friendly face was creased in a happy grin and he nodded. 'Carburation wants a bit of adjustment and the timing on that'

'To h.e.l.l with the adjustments,' Saeton shouted. 'We'll do those tomorrow. All I care about at the moment is that she goes. Now switch the d.a.m.ned thing off and let's go and have a drink. My G.o.d, we've earned it.'

The roar died away as Tubby cut off the juice. The hangar was suddenly still again. But there was no tension in the stillness now. We were all grinning and slapping each other on the back. Tubby caught hold of his wife and hugged her. She had caught our mood of relief. Her eyes were shining and she just didn't seem able to contain her excitement. 'Anybody else like a kiss?' I was nearest to her and she reached up and touched her lips to mine. Then she turned and caught hold of Saeton. She pressed her lips to his, her hands tightening on his overalls. He caught hold of her shoulders and pushed her away almost roughly. 'Come on. Let's get a drink.' His voice was hoa.r.s.e.

Saeton had kept a bottle of whisky for this moment. 'Here's to the airlift!' he said.

'To the airlift!' we echoed.

We drank it neat, talking excitedly of how we'd manage the installation, what the first test flight would show, how the plane would behave on two engines. Saeton planned to use the outboard engines for take-off only. With the extra power developed by the Satan Mark II all flying would be done on the two engines. We bridged in our excitement all the immediate problems and talked instead of how we should develop the company, what planes we should buy, what routes we should operate, whose works we should take over for ma.s.s production. In a flash the bottle was empty. Saeton wrung the last drop out of it and smashed it on the concrete floor. 'That's the best bottle of Scotch I've ever had and I won't have it lying on any d.a.m.ned rubbish heap,' he shouted. His eyes were dilated with the drink and his own excitement.

Our gla.s.ses suddenly empty, we stood around looking at them in silence. It seemed a pity to end the evening like this. Saeton apparently felt the same. 'Look, Tubby,' he said. 'Suppose you nip on the old bike and run down into Ramsbury. Bring back a couple of bottles. Doesn't matter what it costs.' He glanced at me. 'Okay, Neil? It's your money.' And as I nodded, he clapped my arm. 'You won't regret having backed us. If you live to be as old as Methuselah you'll never make a better investment than this. More Scotch, Tubby!' He waved his arm expansively. 'Get on your charger, boy, and ride like h.e.l.l. This b.l.o.o.d.y dump is out of Scotch. Come on. We'll hold your stirrups for you and we'll be out to cheer you as you ride back, bottles clanking in your saddle-bags.'

We were all laughing and shouting as we trooped out to the store-room where the bike was housed. Tubby roared off, his face beaming, his hand whacking at the rear of the bike as he flogged through the gears.

His tail-light disappeared through the trees and we fell suddenly silent. Saeton pa.s.sed his hand across his eyes. 'Let's go in,' he said moodily and I saw that the nerves at the corners of his eyes were twitching. He was near to breaking point. We all were. A good drink would do us good and I suddenly thought of Else. 'What about making it a party?' I said. 'I'll go down and see the Ellwoods.' I knew they wouldn't come, but I thought Else might. Saeton tried to stop me, but I was already hurrying down the track and I ignored him.

A light was on over the front door of the farm. It looked friendly and welcoming.

Mrs Ellwood answered my ring. 'It's you, Mr Fraser.' She sounded surprised. 'We thought you must have left.'

'We've been very busy,' I murmured.

'Come in, won't you?'

'No, thank you. I just came down to say we're having a party. I wondered if you and Colonel Ellwood could come up for a drink. And Else,' I added.

Her eyes twinkled. 'It's Else you're wanting, isn't it? What a pity! We've been expecting you all this time and now you come tonight. Else has had to go to London. Something about her pa.s.sage. She's going back to Germany, you know.'

'To Germany?'

'Yes. Oh, dear, it's all very sudden. And what we shall do without her I don't know. She's been such a help.'

'When is she going?' I asked.

'In a few days' time, I imagine. It was all very unexpected. Just after that dance. She got a letter to say her brother was very ill. And now there is some trouble about her papers. Do come and see her before she goes.'

'Yes,' I murmured. 'Yes, I'll come down one evening.' I backed away trying to remember if Else had said she had a second brother. 'Goodnight, Mrs Ellwood. Sorry you won't join us.' I heard the door close as I started back down the drive. h.e.l.l! The evening suddenly seemed flat. A feeling of violent anger swept through me. d.a.m.n the girl. Why for G.o.d's sake, couldn't she be home this evening of all evenings?

I took a short cut through the woods. I was just in sight of the quarters when I heard the snap of a twig behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and saw the figure of a man emerging out of the darkness. 'Who's that?' he asked. The voice was Tubby's.

'Neil,' I said. 'Did you get the Scotch?'

For an answer I heard the clank of bottle against bottle. 'b.l.o.o.d.y bike ran out of petrol just up the road.' His voice was thick. He'd either had several at the pub or he'd opened one of the bottles. 'What are you doing, looking for fairies?'

'I've just been down to the farm,' I said.

'Else, eh?' He laughed and slipped his arm through mine.

We went on in silence. A lighted widow showed through the trees like a homing beacon. We came out of the woods and there was the interior of the dining-room. Saeton and Diana were there, standing very close together, a bottle on the table and drinks in their hands. 'I wonder where they got that?' Tubby murmured. 'Come on. We'll give them a surprise.'

We had almost reached the window when Diana moved. She put down her drink and moved closer to Saeton. Her hand touched his. She was talking. I could hear the murmur of her voice through the gla.s.s of the window. Tubby had stopped. Saeton took his hand away and turned towards the door. She caught hold of him, swinging him round, her head thrown back, laughing at him. The tinkle of her laughter came out to us in the cold of the night air.

Tubby moved forward. He was like a man in a dream, compelled to go to the window as though drawn there by some magnetic influence. Saeton was standing quite still, looking down at Diana, his hard, leathery face unsoftened, a muscle twitching at the corner of his mouth. Standing there in the darkness facing that lighted window it was like watching a puppet show. 'All right. If you want it that way.' Saeton's voice was harsh. It came to us m.u.f.fled, but clear. He knocked back his drink, set down the gla.s.s and seized hold of her by the arms. She lay back in his grip, her hair hanging loose, her face turned up to him in complete abandon.

Saeton hesitated. There was a bitter set about his mouth. Then he drew her to him. Her arms closed around his neck. Her pa.s.sion was to me something frightening. I was so conscious all the time of Tubby standing there beside me. It was like watching a scene from a play, feeling it through the senses of a character who had yet to come on. Saeton was fumbling at her dress, his face flushed with drink and quite violent. Then suddenly he stiffened. His hands came away from her. 'That's enough, Diana,' he said. 'Get me another drink.'

'No, Bill. It's me you want, not drink. You know you do. Why don't you'

But he took hold of her hands and tore them from his neck. 'I said get me another drink.'

'Oh G.o.d! Don't you understand, darling?' Her hand touched his face, stroking it, smoothing out the deep-etched lines on either side of the mouth. 'You want me. You know you do.'

Tubby didn't move. And I stood there, transfixed by his immobility.

Saeton's hands slowly reached out for Diana, closed on her and then gripped hold of her and hurled her from him. She hit the edge of the table and clutched at it. He took two steps forward, standing over her, his head thrust slightly forward. 'You little fool!' he said. 'Can't you understand you mean nothing to me. Nothing, do you hear? You're trying to come between me and something that is bigger than both of us. Well, I'm not going to have everything wrecked.'

'Go on,' she cried. 'I know I don't rate as high as that b.l.o.o.d.y engine of yours. But you can't go to bed with an engine. And you can with me. Why don't you forget it for the moment? You know you want me. You know your whole body's crying out for'

'Shut up!'

But she couldn't shut up. She was laughing at him, goading him. 'You never were cut out for a monk. You lie awake at nights thinking about me. Don't you? And I lie awake thinking about you. Oh, Bill, why don't you'

'Shut up!' His voice shook with violence and the veins were standing out on his forehead, hard and knotted.

Her voice dropped to a low murmur of invitation. I could no longer hear the words. But the sense was there in her face, in the way she looked at him. His hands came slowly out, searching for her. Then suddenly he straightened up. His hand opened out and he slapped her across the face - twice, once on each cheek. 'I said - shut up! Now get out of here.'

She had staggered back, her hand to her mouth, her face white. She looked as though she were going to cry. Saeton reached out for the bottle. 'If you'd had any sense you'd have given me that drink.' His voice was no longer hard. 'Next time, pick somebody your own size.' He tucked the bottle under his arm and turned to go. But he hesitated at the door, looking back at her. I think he was going to say something conciliatory. But when he saw the blazing fury in her eyes, his face suddenly hardened again. 'If you start any trouble between me and Tubby,' he said slowly, 'I'll break your neck. Do you understand?' He wrenched open the door and disappeared.

A moment later the outer door of the quarters opened and we were spotlighted in the sudden shaft of light. Saeton stopped. 'How long have you two been' He slammed the door. 'I hope you enjoyed your rubbernecking. I'm going over to the hangar.' His footsteps rang on the iron-hard earth as his figure merged into the darkness of the woods.

Neither of us moved for a moment. Utter stillness surrounded us, broken only by the m.u.f.fled sound of Diana's sobs where she lay across the table, her head buried in her hands amongst the litter of gla.s.ses. I felt the chill gla.s.s of the bottles as Tubby thrust them into my hands. 'Take these over to the hangar,' he said in a strangled voice.

I watched him as he opened the door of the quarters and went inside, walking slowly, almost unwillingly. I didn't move for a moment. I seemed rooted to the spot. Then the door of the dining-room opened and I saw him enter. I'd no desire to stand in as audience on another painful scene. I turned quickly and hurried through the woods after Saeton.

When I entered the hangar, Saeton was sitting on the work bench staring at the new engine and drinking out of the bottle. 'Come in, Neil.' He waved the bottle at me. 'Have a drink.' His voice was slurred, almost unrecognisable. G.o.d knows how much he'd drunk in the short time it had taken me to get to the hangar.

I took the bottle from him. It was brandy and more than .-half-empty. The liquid ran like fire down my throat and I gasped.

'You saw the whole thing, I suppose?' he asked.

I nodded.

He laughed, a wild, unnatural sound. "What will Tubby do?'

'I don't know,' I said.

He got off the bench and began pacing up and down. 'Why did he ever let her come here? It was no place for her. She likes plenty going on - lots of people, excitement, plenty of noise and movement. Why don't men learn to understand their wives? Let's forget about it.' He waved his arm angrily. 'What have you got there - Scotch?' He came over and picked up one of the bottles from the bench where I'd placed it. 'Thank G.o.d we've got some liquor, anyway.' He glanced at the bottle of brandy which I still held. 'Queer, a woman hiding away a bottle like that.' He unscrewed the top of a whisky bottle.

'Haven't you had enough?' I suggested.

He gave me a gla.s.sy stare. 'It's Christmas Eve, isn't it? And the engine is finished. I could drink a b.l.o.o.d.y vat.' He raised the bottle to his lips and drank, rocking slightly back on to his heels and then forward on to his toes. 'Funny, isn't it?' he muttered hoa.r.s.ely, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. 'You start out with the idea of celebrating and before you know where you are you're trying to drown your sorrows. Neil, old man.' His free hand reached out and fastened around my shoulders. Tell me something. Be honest with me now. I want an honest reply. Do you like me?'

I hesitated. If I'd been as drunk as he was it wouldn't have mattered. But I was comparatively sober and he knew it.

His arm slipped away from my shoulders and he staggered away from me towards the engine. He stood in front of it and addressed it. 'You b.a.s.t.a.r.d!' he said. Then he lurched round towards me. 'I haven't a friend in the world,' he said and there was a frightful bitterness in his voice which caught on a sob of self-pity. 'Not a friend in the whole wide world,' he repeated. 'Diana was right. An engine is something you create, not a living being. G.o.d d.a.m.n it! I don't care. Do you hear me? - I don't care. I don't give a d.a.m.n for the whole human race. If they don't like me, why should I care? I don't need anything from them. I'm building something of my own. And that's all I care about, do you hear? I don't give a d.a.m.n' He turned suddenly at the sound of the hangar door opening.

It was Tubby. He came slowly down the hangar. 'Give me a drink,' he said.

Saeton handed him the bottle. Tubby raised it to his lips and gulped, Saeton watching him, his body tense. 'Well?' he asked. And then as Tubby didn't answer he added, 'For G.o.d's sake say something, can't you? What happened?'

Tubby raised his eyes and looked at Saeton. But I don't think he saw him. His hand strayed to the leather belt that supported his trousers. 'I thrashed her,' he said in the same flat tone. 'She's packing now.'

'Packing?' Saeton's voice was suddenly hard and crisp. In that moment he seemed to shake off all the effects pi the drink.

'I've telephoned for a taxi.'

Saeton strode over to him and caught hold of him by his jacket. 'You can't walk out on me now, Tubby. In a few days we'll be making our first test flight. After all this time.'

'Can't you forget about your engine for just one night?' Tubby's voice was tired. There was a sort of hopelessness about it. 'I want some money, Saeton. That's what I came up to see you about.'

Saeton laughed suddenly. 'There isn't any money. You know that. Not until we're on the airlift.' The sudden sense of domination was back in his voice and I knew that he had seen how he could keep Carter with us.

'How much do you want, Tubby?' I asked, feeling for my wallet.

Saeton rounded on me, his face heavy with anger. 'If you think the two of us can get the plane into the air, you're crazy,' he said. 'For one thing the margin of time is too small. For another there may be alterations to make. Neither you nor I' He turned away with a quick, angry shrug.

'How much do you want?' I asked again.

'A fiver.' He came across to me and I gave him the notes. 'I hate to do this, Neil, but...' His voice tailed away.

'Forget it,' I said. 'Are you sure that will be enough?'

He nodded. 'It's only to get Diana to London. She'll stay with her friends. She's got a job waiting for her. It's just to see her through for a few days. She's going back to the Malcolm Club. She worked for them during the war and they've been wanting her back ever since the airlift got under way.' He stuffed the money into his pocket. 'She'll pay you back.'

He turned to leave the hangar, but Saeton stopped him. 'They employ girls at the Malcolm Club, not engineers. What are you going to do?'

Tubby looked at him. 'I'm staying here,' he said. 'I promised I'd see you into the air and I'll keep my promise. After that'

But Saeton wasn't listening. He came across the hangar like a man who had been reprieved. His eyes were alight with excitement, his whole face transfigured. 'Then it's okay. You're not walking out on me.' He caught hold of Tubby's hand and wrung it. 'Then everything's all right.'

'Yes,' Tubby answered, withdrawing his hand. 'Everything's all right, Bill.' But as he turned away I saw there were tears in his eyes.

Saeton stood for a moment, watching him go. Then he turned to me. 'Come on, Neil. Let's have a drink.' He seized hold of the opened bottle of Scotch. 'Here's to the test flight!'

There was only room for one thing in the man's mind. With a sick feeling I turned away. 'I'm going to bed,' I said.

CHAPTER FOUR.

It wasn't until the following day that I realised how much Diana had been doing for us. It wasn't only that she'd cooked our food, made our beds, kept the place clean and neat and done all the little odd jobs that are so boring and yet are an essential part of the act of living. She'd done more than that. By her brightness, her cheerfulness - her mere presence - she had cushioned the tense exhaustion of our effort. She had provided a background for us in which we could momentarily relax and gather strength for another day's sustained effort. The place seemed flat without her.

I cooked the breakfast that morning. Tubby hadn't got back until the early hours. He looked all in when I called him. His round, friendly face was hollow and drained of all its natural cheerfulness. And Saeton looked like death when he came across from the hangar. His face was grey and the corners of his eyes twitched nervously. He was suffering from a hangover.

But I think it was more than that. He was hating himself that morning. There was something inside of him that drove him on. It wasn't exactly ambition. It was something more urgent, more essentially a part of his nature - a frustrated creative urge that goaded him, and I think he'd been fighting it through the long, drunken hours of the night. He wasn't a normal human being. He was a cold, single-purposed machine. And I think that part of him was at war with his Celtic blood.

It was the grimmest Christmas I have ever had. We spent the day in bench tests on the new engine and in getting the first engine in position in the nacelle. The hangar was equipped with overhead gear for this purpose. It had been a maintenance hangar in the days when the Americans had had the aerodrome. Without that gear I don't know how we should have done it. But no doubt Saeton had thought of that when he decided to rent the hangar. I was looking after the commissariat and though it was all canned food that I served it took time. I was thankful that we were so near the end of our work.

It wasn't only the fact that Diana had gone. There was Tubby. No set-back ever discouraged him and his cheery grin had seen me through many bad moments. But now his end of the bench was silent. He didn't whistle any more and there was no friendly grin to cheer me. He worked with stolid, urgent drive as though the work itself, as well as Saeton, stood between him and his wife. It was only then that I realised how much I had leaned on his good-natured optimism. He had never asked me any questions. To this day I don't know how much he knew about me. He had just accepted me and in his acceptance and in his solid ordinariness he had created an atmosphere that had made the aerodrome reality and the past somehow remote.

That was all gone now. A sense of impermanence crept into the hangar as though we were on the fringe of the outside world and I began to worry about the future, wondering whether, when we flew out of Membury, the police would get on my trail again. I suddenly found myself in dread of the outside world.

That first day after Diana's departure was h.e.l.l. A tenseness brooded over us in the din of the hangar where the new engine was being run in on the bench. But on the following day Saeton had recovered from his hangover. He came down at six-thirty and got our breakfast. He didn't talk much but a quiet, steadying confidence radiated from him. I never admired him more than I did then. The following day would see the work of installation completed. He was face-to-face with the first test flight. Three years of work were concentrated on the results of that one day. The previous flying tests had resulted in the plane crashing and the man's nerves must have been stretched to the uttermost. But he never showed it. He set out to instil confidence in us and renew our interest and enthusiasm. A forced cheerfulness would have been fatal. He didn't make that mistake. He did it by the force of his personality, by implanting in us his own feelings. The mood sprang from deep within him and was natural and real. I felt as though he had stretched out his hand to lift me up to his own pitch of excitement. And Tubby felt it, too. It didn't start him whistling again at his work and there was no good-natured grin, but as we heaved on the pulley chains to jockey the second engine into position for lowering into its nacelle I suddenly realised that his heart was in it again.

We didn't knock off that night till past ten. By then the two engines were in position. All we had to do the next day was connect them up, fix the airscrews and prepare the plane for the first test. 'Think she'll make it, Tubby?' Saeton asked.

'She'd better.' Tubby spoke through his teeth and there was a gleam in his eyes as he stared up at the plane as though already he saw her winging into Gatow on those two engines we had sweated blood to produce.

I knew then that everything was all right. In one day Saeton had quietly and un.o.btrusively overlaid Tubby's bitterness with enthusiasm for the plane and an overwhelming interest in the outcome of the flight.

December 28 - a Tuesday - was the last day of preparation. As the light faded out of the sky we slid back the doors of the hangar and started up the two motors. The work bench whitened under a film of cement dust kicked op by the backlash of the two props. n.o.body cared. Tubby and I stood in the dust and grinned at each other as Saeton revved the motors and the whole fuselage quivered against the grip of the brakes. As the noise died down and the props slowly jerked to a standstill, Tubby gripped my arm. 'By G.o.d!' he said. 'They work. It's good to see something you've made running as smoothly as that. I've never built an engine from scratch before,' he added.

We were building castles in the air that night as we sat over the remaining bottle of Scotch. The airlift was only our springboard. Between us we swept past the work-out into the airways of the world. Saeton's imagination knew no common bounds. He drew a picture for us of planes tramping the globe, able to cut steamer rates as well as steamer schedules, of a huge a.s.sembly line turning out freighters, of a gigantic organisation running freight to the ultimate ends of the earth. 'The future of the pa.s.senger plane lies in jets,' he said. 'But freight will go to any company that can offer the lowest rates.' He was standing over us and he leaned down, his eyes shining, and gripped the two of us by the shoulder. 'It's queer. Here we are, just three ordinary types - broke to the wide and living on credit - and tomorrow, in the air over this derelict airfield, we shall fly the first plane of the biggest freight organisation the world has ever seen. We're going to be the most talked-of people in the world in a few months' time. It's been tough going up here.' He grinned. 'But not half as tough as it's going to be. You'll look back on this period as a holiday when we start to get organised.'

And then, with one of those abrupt changes of mood, he sat down. 'Well, now, let's get tomorrow sorted out. To begin with I'd rather not taxi out of the hangar. You never know, something may go wrong and she may swing. Neil. You know the Ellwoods. Suppose you go down and arrange for them to send one of their tractors up here. I'd like it here by eight.' He turned to Tubby. 'Ground tests will take most of the morning I expect. But I'd like to be in the air by midday. How are we fixed for petrol? Are all the tanks full?'

Tubby shook his head. 'No. Only the main tanks. They're about two-thirds full.'