Wings

Her life in Los Angeles was as hectic as usual, and the photographers and social events seemed to be thicker than ever. But Desmond kept insisting on the importance of it, and he took her to lunch from time to time, to discuss his planes and her observations of them, which always astounded him, but also to encourage her about the importance of public relations. Their conversations were almost always about his planes, and he was always very businesslike with her. There was a mutual respect there too, and at times he seemed a little more friendly. But the only thing that ever really interested him was his business. And for someone who had such a strong interest in publicity, she was surprised that she so seldom saw anything personal about him in the papers.

He continued to be very generous with her, giving her a large bonus each time she set a record. And he encouraged her to fly all his planes. On Thanksgiving she went home in a Williams P-6 Storm Petrel; she was sleek and painted black and the sheer beauty of her totally amazed her father. She took him up in it, and offered Chris a ride too, but he said he was too busy. He had a new girlfriend in Walnut Grove, and he didn't want to waste any time at the airport. But Billy was more than eager to go with her. He had heard from Nick. It seemed as though everyone had, except Cassie. It was almost as though he were proving a point. But she had long since understood the message. It was just as he had said it would be in spite of all her pleas and protests. “I love you. So long. End of Story.” And there was nothing she could do about it now, if ever. She talked to Billy about it late one night, and he told her Nick was the greatest guy he'd ever known, but the epitome of a loner.

“I think he's crazy about you, Cass. I saw it the first time I met you. I figured you knew it too, and I was surprised you didn't. But he's scared, I guess. He's not used to taking anyone with him. And he figured maybe he wouldn't come back this time. He didn't want to do that to you.”

“Great. So he tells me he loves me, and then dumps me.”

“He figures you should marry some hotshot in L.A. He said so.”

“Nice of him to decide that,” she complained, but there was nothing she could do. Talking to Billy helped. He was like another brother, except one who liked to fly as much as she did. He was planning to come out and see her in LA sometime before Christmas.

And when she left again, she promised to come home for the Christmas holidays. Until then, she had a lot to do. Williams was introducing two new planes, and she was an important part of those introductions. She was going to be doing test flights, and interviews, and posing for photographs. But she figured that by Christmas the worst of it would be all over. Desmond had already agreed to give her a week off between Christmas and New Year's.

The Russians invaded Finland the day she went back after the Thanksgiving holiday, and it was obvious that things were not going well in Europe. It worried her for Nick, but with her grueling schedule, she scarcely had time to keep up with the news.

She was relieved to know that, for the moment, Nick was just an instructor.

When Billy came out to visit her in mid-December, she took him up in their best planes. He was stunned by what she'd been flying.

“You've got some great stuff out here, Cass,” His eyes had lit up like Christmas when he saw the maritime patrol variant developed by Williams from an earlier transport, borrowing innovations from Howard Hughes's fabulous racer.

“They'd probably give you a job as a test pilot if you ever wanted it,” she suggested to him, but her father would probably be outraged by her luring him away. Pat was relying on him now, and Billy knew that.

“I couldn't leave him,” Billy smiled. “Just bring one of these gals home for a visit now and then, and that'll keep me happy.”

But she introduced him to Desmond Williams anyway, and told him what an extraordinary pilot Billy was the next time they had lunch in his office. He showed some interest in him, but his real interest was in Cassie. He couldn't imagine another pilot who flew as well as she did. They talked a lot about the war in Europe these days too. He was hoping to sell planes abroad, and like Nick, he assumed America would get involved eventually.

“I think we'll get shamed into it by our allies,” he said calmly. It was exactly what had happened last time.

“I've got a friend over there now,” she admitted to him one day. “He signed up as a fighter instructor for the RAF. He's stationed at Hornchurch.” It was one of those rare days when they talked about something more than business.

“He sounds like a noble man,” Desmond commented as a waiter poured coffee for them in his private office.

“No, just another fool like the rest of us,” she said ruefully and he laughed. They both knew that fliers were a special breed of people.