Free Enduring Passions by David Wiltshire Page B

and a helmet? It’s cold up there.’
    Fay took her outstretched hand.
    ‘That’s awfully decent of you. I’m Fay Rossiter.’
    She looked at Tom.
    ‘See you back here.’ She turned to Joan. ‘How long will we be?’
    ‘Half an hour no more.’
    She squeezed her husband’s arm. ‘He’s taking me out to dinner tonight aren’t you, John?’
    John grinned at them both. ‘If we don’t crash.’
     
    Tom was given a large overcoat and a spare helmet by the garrulousCaptain Black. They walked across the grass to a biplane with two open cockpits.
    ‘You ever flown before?’ Black enquired.
    With his mouth suddenly as dry as a board, Tom Roxham had to clear his throat before saying, ‘No.’ ‘Always wanted to I bet?’
    ‘Well—’
    But Black pointed to the back cockpit.
    ‘Get yourself in there while I go through my checks. I’ll strap you in. Only stand where it’s marked on the wing, otherwise you’ll put your foot through the fabric.’
    Tom was left standing, feeling like an overdressed idiot – a rather apprehensive idiot at that. He’d set out that morning tingling with excitement and anticipation – never imagining he was going to do this. Something he would never have done in a million years left to his own devices.
    As in a trance he stepped up on to the wing, then lowered himself into the small cockpit. His senses seemed to be heightened. He could smell oil, dope and even a vague odour of sick. Tom sat there, blankly looking at the dials, when nearby an engine burst into life.
    He watched as a similar biplane began to wallow forward, the grass flattening with the wind from the propeller.
    The figure in the back cockpit started waving like mad in his direction. Tom waved back, suddenly realizing it was Fay. His heart was in his mouth as he watched the machine turn into the wind, and pause, engine roaring.
    Captain Black reared up beside him, blocking the view.
    ‘Now, let’s get you strapped in. Sorry I don’t carry parachutes, but you wouldn’t know how to use it would you?’
    He began pulling the tough canvas straps over Tom’s shoulders, drawing them painfully tight, so that he couldn’t move an inch.
    ‘Can’t have you falling out during the demonstration.’
    ‘Demonstration?’
    Tom felt his heart come up into his mouth.
    Captain Black grinned.
    ‘Yes – your lady friend is in the “enemy” plane, we are the good old home team.’ He disappeared, just in time for a stunned Tom to see Fay’s aircraft lifting off and climbing away beyond the wind sock, wings wobbling like a see-saw.
    Black hauled himself up and then slumped down into the front cockpit . When he’d finished with his straps he gave a thumbs up. A man on the ground two-handedly pulled down on the propeller. It flicked around once. Nothing happened. The process was repeated, this time there was a cough and a cloud of black smoke. On the next pull the propeller suddenly flipped round and kept going as the engine coughed and coughed, then roared into life, the propeller disappearing into a blur.
    Wind blasted his face.
    ‘Chocks away.’
    They began to move forward, bumping and creaking over the grass. Tom could see nothing ahead of them, as the nose was pointing upwards, but Black kept swinging the tail from side to side, so that he could see where he was going.
    They braked to a halt. A voice crackled into his ears, ‘Revving up, checking our Ts and Ps and the magneto, then we’ll be off.’
    The noise of the engine increased to a deafening roar.
    The plane shuddered and strained against the brakes.
    The voice called again.
    ‘Here we go.’
    Tom Roxham didn’t know what to expect, knowing only that Fay was already up there in the air somewhere ahead of him and that he wanted to be near her.
    They started rolling, bumping and creaking and thudding, gathering speed. Suddenly his seat rose, the nose dipped and he could see ahead, at the grass racing towards and under them. Then all of a sudden the vibration and