Wings. Part 25

Lieutenant Clarke left her on the ship, and they set sail an hour later. Everyone was anxious about the trip, and afraid that the j.a.panese would come back and sink them. They had complete blackouts every night, and everyone had to wear their life jackets day and night, which was very unnerving. There were a lot of children on the ship, which made it noisy and stressful for the other pa.s.sengers, but families who had relatives on the mainland were anxious to get away from Hawaii. It was too dangerous there now. Everyone felt sure they would be attacked again at any moment. The Lurline Lurline, the Mariposa Mariposa, and the Monterey Monterey sailed quietly with an escort of destroyers, which accompanied them halfway to California, and then left them to complete the trip alone, as the destroyers headed back to Hawaii. sailed quietly with an escort of destroyers, which accompanied them halfway to California, and then left them to complete the trip alone, as the destroyers headed back to Hawaii.

The ships were very quiet as they zigzagged across the Pacific to avoid submarines. There were no parties at night, no one was in the mood. They just wanted to get to San Francisco safely. And Ca.s.sie was amazed at how long it took. After flying everywhere all her life, traveling by ship seemed endless and incredibly boring. She hoped she never had to do it again, and the entire ship cheered as they came through the Golden Gate and into the port of San Francisco five days later.

She was even more surprised when she stepped off the gangplank, carrying her one small bag, and saw her father. She had traveled under the name of Ca.s.sandra Williams, and only a handful of people had realized who she was and talked to her. The rest of the time, she kept to herself and minded her own business. She had a lot of thinking to do, and some quiet mourning. But when she saw her father, relief turned to excitement. And her mother was right behind him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked with wide eyes that filled instantly with tears. They were all crying as they hugged each other, her mother more than anyone, but Ca.s.sie and her father too. It was the reunion she had thought of a million times on the island. And then as they hugged and talked, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Desmond. He had set up an entire press conference to greet her. There were at least eighty members of the press to welcome her and ask her questions. But as Ca.s.sie noticed them, she saw her father's mouth set in a hard line. He was having none of this. Desmond Williams had gone far enough, and he would go no further.

"Welcome home, Ca.s.sie!" a flock of reporters shouted at her, as her father grabbed her firmly by the arm, and propelled her through the crowd like a snow-plow. Oona was following them closely, and Pat was heading for the car and driver he had hired to meet her. And before the reporters could say anything, she was being pushed into the car, and Desmond had come toward them.

"You're very kind," her father was saying warmly to the members of the press, "but my daughter's not well. She's ill and she's had a traumatic experience in the hospital at the bombing of Pearl Harbor. Thank you... thank you very much." He waved his hat at them, shoved his wife into the car after his daughter, and climbed in behind both of them. And then told the driver to pull out as quickly as he could without hitting them. Ca.s.sie was laughing at Desmond's expression as they drove off. They had completely foiled him.

"Does that man never stop?" her father said irritably. "Has he no heart at all?"

"None whatsoever," she a.s.sured him.

"I don't understand why you married him."

"Neither do I," she sighed, "but he was very convincing then. Until afterward; then he didn't think he had to hide his moves anymore." She told him about his threats to go after her now with his lawyers.

"You owe him nothing!" Pat raged at her, incensed at what Desmond had told her.

"Mind your heart, dear," Oona warned, but he had been fine since the summer. Even during Ca.s.sie's ordeal, he had held up surprisingly well. And now he was only angry.

"He'd better mind my fist, not my heart," Pat said bluntly, as they drove back to the Fairmont. Her parents had taken a suite for the three of them, and they spent two days there celebrating her safe return. Before they went home, she went to visit Billy Nolan's father. It was a sad and difficult visit, and she told his father that Billy had died in her arms peacefully, and he hadn't suffered. But even knowing that, it was difficult to console him.

It dawned on Ca.s.sie afterward, that with the war now, there would be many young men like Billy dying. It was an awful thought. And she had never been as happy to go home as she was this time.

Her father had brought a co-pilot along, and flown the Vega out for her. Halfway back to Illinois, he turned the controls over to her, and asked her if she'd like to fly it. And much to his surprise, and her own, she hesitated, but he pretended to ignore it.

"It's not as fancy as what you're used to, Ca.s.s. But it'll do your heart good to fly again." It was a nice plane to fly, and he was right, she loved the feeling of flying again. She hadn't been in a plane since she'd gone down in the North Star North Star, two and a half months before. And it was odd to be flying now, but she still loved it. It was in her Mood, just as it was in her father's.

She told him about the crash then on the way home, and she and her father discussed what might have caused the fire in the engines, but it was anyone's guess. Desmond had brought back what was left of the Plane, and was hoping they could learn more about what went wrong. But it was unlikely they would find much, the explosion had been so powerful.

"You were d.a.m.n lucky," her father said, shaking his head, as she flew his plane for him. "You could have been killed on the way down. You could have been blown to bits, or never found an island to light on."

"I know," she said sadly. But it still hadn't helped Billy. She couldn't get over that. She knew she'd never forget him and then as she helped her father put the plane in the hangar that night, he offered her a job at the airport. He said he could use some help with cargo and mail runs, especially now that every able-bodied young boy would be enlisting. Most of his pilots were older than that, but still there was room for her, and he'd love to have her, he said with a shy smile. "Unless you're going to be doing a lot of advertis.e.m.e.nts for tooth powder and cars." They both laughed at that one.

"I don't think so, Dad. I think I've had enough of all that to last me a lifetime." She wasn't even sure she wanted to do air shows, not after Chris died. She just wanted to fly, nice easy runs, or even long ones.

"Well, I'd love to have you. Think about it, Ca.s.s."

"I will, Dad. I'm honored."

He drove them home after that, in his truck, and her sisters and their families were waiting for them at the house. It was New Year's Eve, and they had never looked better to her than at that moment. Everyone cried and hugged, and screamed, and the kids ran around like crazy. They all seemed to have grown, and Annabelle and Humphrey looked cuter than ever. It was a scene she had never thought she'd see again, and she broke down and sobbed as her sisters held her. She only wished that Chris could have been there... and Billy... and Nick. There were too many people missing now, but she was there. And they thanked G.o.d that night for His blessings.

21.

The week after New Year's, Ca.s.sie started helping her father at the airport again. But before that, he took her to see an attorney in Chicago. He was an expensive one, with a good reputation, but her father said that she couldn't afford to see anyone less than that if she was going to defend herself against Desmond Williams.

She explained her situation to him, and he advised her that she had nothing to worry about. There wasn't a judge or a jury in the world who would feel that she hadn't fulfilled her contract in good faith, and at great risk and personal expense to herself. "No one's going to take money from you, or put you in jail, or force you to fly for him again. The man sounds like a monster."

"And that brings up another matter," her father said pointedly. The divorce. That was more complicated, but not impossible by any means. It would take time, but it would be easy to say that their marriage had not survived the trauma of her ordeal, and surely no one would contest that. It would be even easier to accuse him of adultery and fraud. And the attorney intended to wave those flags at him. And he was sure he would get Desmond's full cooperation.

He told her to go home, and not to worry about it, and three weeks later some papers arrived for her to sign to set the wheels in motion. And it was shortly after that that Desmond called her.

"How are you feeling, Ca.s.s?"

"Why?"

"It's a perfectly reasonable question." He sounded very pleasant but she knew him better than that. He wanted something. She thought maybe he had called to argue about the divorce, but she couldn't imagine why he'd want to. He didn't want to be married to her any more than she wanted to be married to him. And she wasn't asking for money. Much to her surprise, he had sent her the full amount he owed her for the Pacific tour, even though she hadn't completed it, after her lawyer contacted him and pointed out that trying to shortchange her would look very bad to the American public after all she'd been through. Desmond had been furious, but the check for one hundred and fifty thousand was safely put away in her bank account, and her father was well pleased that it was. She had more than earned it.

"I just thought you might like to do a little press conference sometime... you know... tell the world what happened." She had planned to, at first, just once, but in the meantime, she'd decided against it. Her career as a movie star was over.

"They heard it all from the Department of the Navy, after they rescued me. There's nothing else to say. Do you really think they want to know how Billy died in my arms, or about my dysentery? I don't think so."

"You can leave those parts out."

"No, I can't. And I have nothing to say. I did it. We went down. I was lucky enough to come back, unlike Billy, unlike Noonan, unlike Earhart, unlike a lot of fools like us. I'm here, and I don't want to talk about it anymore. It's over, Desmond. It's history. Find someone else you can mold into a movie star. Maybe Nancy."

"You were good at it," he said nostalgically, 'the best."

"I cared about you," she said sadly. "I loved you," she said very softly, but there was no one to love there.

"I'm sorry if you were disappointed," he said pointedly. They were strangers again. They had come full circle. And then he realized that pushing her was pointless. "Let me know if you change your mind. You can have a great career if you ever get serious about it," he said, and she smiled. It had gotten as serious as it gets, and miraculously she'd still survived it.

"Don't count on it." She knew he hated people like her. In his mind, she was a quitter. But she didn't give a d.a.m.n what he thought now.

"Good-bye, Ca.s.sie." End of a career, end of a marriage. End of a nightmare.

They hung up and he never called her again. Her lawyer told her that Mr. Williams had agreed to the divorce, and even offered a small settlement if she would go to Reno. She didn't accept the money, she'd made enough flying for him, but she went to Reno in March for six six weeks, and when she came back, she was free again. And predictably, Desmond released a statement to the press afterward that she had been so traumatized by her experience in the Pacific, that continuing their marriage had become impossible for her, and she was living "in seclusion with her parents." weeks, and when she came back, she was free again. And predictably, Desmond released a statement to the press afterward that she had been so traumatized by her experience in the Pacific, that continuing their marriage had become impossible for her, and she was living "in seclusion with her parents."

"It makes me sound like a mental case," she complained.

"So what?" her father said. "You're rid of him forever. Good riddance." The press had called a few times after that, and she always refused to talk to them or see them. They had written about her sympathetically, but they didn't pursue her for long. As much as they had loved her before the tour, they had other fish to fry now.

She certainly didn't miss them or Desmond. But she did miss her friends. With Billy gone, the airport was very quiet for her. She was so used to flying with him day after day, that it was odd now to be there without him. And by April, when she got back from Reno, all the young men she knew had either been drafted or enlisted. Even two of her brothers-in-law had gone, although Colleen's husband had flat feet and bad eyes and was 4-F and had stayed stayed. But her two oldest sisters sisters and their children were around the house most of the time now. And that spring, Annabelle and Humphrey's parents were killed in a bombing attack on London. Colleen and her husband had decided to adopt them. And thinking about it, Ca.s.sie almost wished that she could have them. and their children were around the house most of the time now. And that spring, Annabelle and Humphrey's parents were killed in a bombing attack on London. Colleen and her husband had decided to adopt them. And thinking about it, Ca.s.sie almost wished that she could have them.

They had news from Nick now and then, but not very often. He was still in England, flying fighter raids now with a vengeance. And killing as many Germans as he could shoot out of the skies, "just like the old days." He was old for those games at forty-one, but with America in the war now, he had full military status in the American Army. He also didn't get leaves back to the States anymore. Not in wartime. Ca.s.sie knew that he was still at Hornchurch. He never wrote to her, only to her father. She had never written and told him of Desmond's betrayal and her divorce, and she still wasn't sure what to tell him, or if he'd care. She didn't know if her father had said anything, but she doubted it. Pat wasn't much at writing letters, or at discussing other people's business. Like all men, they discussed world events and politics. But she felt that one of these days, she ought to tell Nick herself what had happened. The question was when and how. She had to a.s.sume by now though that if Nick had still been interested in her, he'd have written. She hadn't seen him in almost a year now. And G.o.d only knew what he was thinking.

She didn't go out on dates, just with friends, or her sisters. And she worked hard for her father, at the airport. It was almost enough of a life for her, although she had to admit that she missed the thrill of flying Desmond's exotic planes now and then. But you couldn't have everything, and she liked her life just the way it was now. The press had started to forget her, they seldom called now, without Desmond prodding them, and she got an occasional request for endors.e.m.e.nts, which she declined. It was a quiet life, and her father worried about her sometimes, and said as much to Oona.

"She's been through a lot, you know," he said. They all had.

"She's a strong girl," her mother said fondly, "she'll be all right." She always was. She was just quiet sometimes, and lonely without the people she'd grown up with. Her brother, Nick, Bobby, even Billy, who had come a little later. But she missed them, and the camaraderie they had all shared in different ways. Now she was just another pilot flying to Chicago and Cleveland, but it felt good to be with her family again. It brought her a great deal of comfort.

In August, she got a phone call that amazed her. Her father took the call, and handed it to her with a blase look. He didn't even recognize the name, which made her want to shriek at him. Some things never changed. It was Jackie Cochran.

"Are you serious?" She had thought he was kidding at first. She had just come in from a run to Las Vegas. It was hotter than h.e.l.l. But when she got on the phone, Jackie Cochran said she wanted to meet with her if possible. She said she'd always admired her, and she asked her to come to New York to see her, if she could spare the time. "Sure," Ca.s.sie agreed, jotting down the pertinent details. She had agreed to fly there two days later. She had nothing else to do, since it was her day off. And maybe she could even do a little shopping, since she had her money from the tour in the bank, and had never spent a penny. The funny thing was she had wanted to meet Jackie Cochran for ages, but once she got settled at home again, she got lazy and never did anything about it.

She was thinking about inviting her mother to come to to New York with her, but then she decided to go alone. She had no idea what Jackie Cochran would want, but she thought it might be something her mother would disapprove of. New York with her, but then she decided to go alone. She had no idea what Jackie Cochran would want, but she thought it might be something her mother would disapprove of.

And as it turned out, it was something that fascinated Ca.s.sie. She had admitted readily that she was bored at home, and eager for some more exciting flying. Eight months after she had been rescued in the Pacific, she was ready to spread her wings again and do something a little more exciting. And what Jackie Cochran had in mind was right up her alley.

Jackie wanted Ca.s.sie to take charge of forming a small group of experienced women pilots under the Army Air Force Flying Training Command, to ferry planes to wherever they were needed in the war, for the moment. The women involved would fly as civilian pilots but have uniforms and honorary rank. Ca.s.sie was to start as a captain. There was another women's air corps too, the WAFS, Women's Auxiliary Flying Squadron, if she preferred it, being organized for domestic ferrying by Nancy Harkness Love, another extraordinary female pilot. But Ca.s.sie liked the idea of ferrying planes into England right past the Germans. She knew her parents were going to be upset if she left home again, but this was something she believed in. It served a purpose, it wasn't frivolous or self-serving, like her Pacific tour, which just made money for a lot of greedy people. This was something she could do for her country, and if she died... she was prepared to accept that. So had Chris... so had Billy... sadly, so had Bobby Strong by then. He had been killed six weeks after he enlisted. Peggy was a widow again, with four children now. Life was never simple.

The WAFS would begin training in September, for eight weeks in New Jersey, but she could hardly wait. It was time for her to be challenged again and for the first time, she would be flying with other women. She had never had the opportunity to do that.

Jackie Cochran took her to dinner that night at '21' and they talked about their plans. Ca.s.sie couldn't remember anything she had wanted to do more, not even the world tour when Desmond had first asked her. This was so different.

It was exactly what she wanted and what she'd been waiting for. For Ca.s.sie it was time to move on now. She was still smiling when she flew home the next day, thinking about it.

Her father was at the airport when she got in; he was singing to himself, and filing some papers in his office. She hated to ruin his mood, and she decided to wait and tell him after dinner.

"How was New York?"

"Great," she beamed at him.

"Oh oh. Do I smell romance in the air?" He smelled happiness, but not romance. Airplanes, but not boys. She was right hack to where she'd been in the beginning. In love with flying.

"Nope. No romance," she smiled mysteriously. She was twenty-three years old and divorced, and she felt free and independent. And she was about to do exactly what she wanted.

She could hardly contain herself until that night after dinner, and when she told her parents, they stared at her in disbelief.

"Here we go again," fat looked angry even before she explained it. "You want to do what now?" She had been swimming upstream all her life. It was nothing new for them, or to Ca.s.sie.

"I want to join... I did join the Army's Flying Training Command," she said happily, and then she explained it to them.

"Wait a minute. You're going to be flying bombers to England? Do you know how heavy and hard to manage those are?"

"I know, Dad." She smiled. She'd flown just about every difficult plane in the sky, when she'd worked for Williams Aircraft. "I'd have a co-pilot." She knew that would make him feel better.

"Probably another woman."

"Sometimes."

"You're crazy," he said tersely, "patriotic, but crazy."

She looked at him hard then. He had to understand. She was grown-up and she had a right to do this. But she had also put them through a lot, especially in the last year and she didn't want to hurt them. She would have preferred to do it with their approval, but her mother was already crying.

"You and your d.a.m.n flying," Oona said unhappily to her husband, and he patted her hand apologetically.

"Now, Oonie... it's always made us a nice living," And it had made Ca.s.sie a small fortune, but at what price glory.

She explained the Flying Command to them again, and they told her they'd think about it. But she had already signed the papers, she reminded them. Pit and Oona looked at each other. There was nothing left to do but support Ca.s.sie again. She was always doing this to them. Always putting herself out on a limb, and stretching to the limit.

"When do they want you, Ca.s.s?" her father asked, looking somewhat deflated. He hated losing her too. She was such a big help to him at the airport.

"I start in two weeks, on September first. In New Jersey," and then she added gratuitously, "If I were a man, I'd be drafted anyway."

"But you're not, thank G.o.d. And you won't be. It's bad enough to have our sons-in-law over there. And Nick," who was like a son to them.

"You'd be there if you could," she pointed out to her father, and he looked at her very strangely. She was right. He would. And Nick had volunteered long before, and he would never have had to go this time.

"Why can't I? Why can't I do something for my country, for a change? Flying is all I know how to do, and I do it well. Why can't I offer that to this country? You would. Why should I be prevented from that because I'm a woman?"

"Oh G.o.d," her father rolled his eyes, "it's the Suffragettes again. Where do you get this from? Your mother and your sisters never talk about this nonsense. They stay home where they belong."

"I don't belong there. I'm a flier. Like you. That's the difference." It was hard to argue with her. She was smart, and she was right. And she was gutsy. He loved that about her. She had taught him a lot over the years, and he loved her more for it.

"It's dangerous, Ca.s.s. And you'd be flying Lockheed Hudson bombers. They're heavy planes. What if you go down again?"

"What if you go down tomorrow over Cleveland? What's the difference between the two?"

"Maybe nothing. I'll think about it." He knew she was bored flying mail runs for him, after all the fancy flying she'd done. But at least she was safe here.

He thought about it for days, but in the end, as before, he didn't feel he had the right to stop her. And in September she left for New Jersey. Oona was proud of her too, and her parents flew to New Jersey with her.

'Take it easy, Dad," she said when he left her. She kissed both of them good-bye, and her father stood smiling at her.

'Try not to embarra.s.s yourself," he said mock somberly and she laughed at him.

"Keep your tail up."

"Mind your own!" He saluted her and was gone, and the next time he saw her he almost burst with pride. She was wearing her uniform, with a gleaming pair of silver wings, and she looked older and more mature than she ever had before. She had her long red hair tied into a neat bun, and the uniform looked sensational on her long, lean figure.

Her parents had come to New York because she was shipping out for England that weekend, though they'd only be there briefly. She would be going back and forth with planes, whenever they were needed somewhere else. But her first a.s.signment was to report to Hornchurch with a bomber.

She had dinner with her parents the night before she left, and she took them to a little Italian restaurant she went to whenever she was in New York with the other pilots. She introduced some of them to her parents, and they could see that she had never been happier than she was now. Despite the hardships of the training she'd gone through, to Ca.s.sie, more often than not, it seemed like summer camp for female fliers. She liked the women she flew with, and the challenge of ferrying bombers through dangerous airs.p.a.ce suited her completely. She was used to difficult flying, and she liked the fact that she'd have to pay close attention. For this first trip, she had been a.s.signed a male co-pilot, and they were going through Greenland.

"Keep an eye out for Nick," her father had said when he left her at the barracks, and she had promised to write to them from England. She didn't think she'd be there long, but she didn't know yet. She would be doing some flying there, and she would have to wait for a return a.s.signment. She might be there for as little as a week or two, or as long as three months. There was no way of knowing. But one thing she did know and that was that all through her training, she had thought of nothing but Nick Calvin.

She had done a lot of thinking, and she had made some decisions.

All her life she had had to wait for other people to make up their minds about her life, and she wasn't willing to let that happen anymore. She had had to pay her own brother to lie for her and take her up in the plane, so she could learn to fly it. She had had to wait for Nick to notice how badly she wanted to learn, and agree to give her lessons, hidden from her father. She had had to wait for her father to come to his senses years before, and let her fly from his airport.

She had had to wait for Nick to tell her he loved her, and then leave for the RAF. And she had had to wait for Desmond to let her fly his planes, and lie to her, and use her, and then finally tell her the truth of how little he cared for her. All her life she had had to wait for other people's decisions and manipulations. And even now, Nick knew where she was, he knew what she felt for him, but he never wrote her. The only thing he probably didn't know, since it had never been publicized, thanks to Desmond's good relations with the press, was that she had left him.

But she wasn't waiting anymore. It wasn't anyone else's decision this time. It was her turn. And ever since she had found out what a b.a.s.t.a.r.d Desmond had been, she had wanted to go to England. She had no idea what would happen when she got there, or what Nick would say. And she didn't care how old he was, or how young she was, or how much money he did or didn't have. All she knew was that she had to be there. She had a right to know what he felt for her. She had a right to a lot of things, she'd decided, and it was time for her to get them. This trip was one of them. It was just exactly what she wanted to be doing at that moment.

They left at five o'clock the next morning, and she found the flying challenging, though dull some of the time. She and her co-pilot chatted for a while, and he was impressed to to realize who she was. realize who she was.

"I saw you at an air show once. You cleaned up everything. I think three firsts and a second." It had been her last one. And he remembered correctly.