flight. The only other thing he said was, ‘Get everybody strapped in ... after you’ve cleaned up the mess.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Mr. Crosbie said apologetically. ‘Sorry about the accident, sir. It was a bit bumpy, and poor Miss Aylmer—’
But Captain Prentice was already on his way back to the flight deck.
Slowly they descended lower and lower over London and landed.
It was with a feeling of relief that she put on her coat at five-thirty and hurried out to the airport gates, and stood alone, waiting for the 81 bus. She was even glad that Cynthia was spending the evening with some Maidenhead friends who had picked her up at the Admin Building and driven her off in the opposite direction from Mrs. Waterhouse’s. Just now, Patsy wanted to be alone, and Cynthia’s cheerful nonchalance over everything would have only underlined how much she herself cared.
It was chilly. Patsy shivered a little as she pulled up the collar of her camel-hair coat. Then suddenly a small black sports car stopped at the bus stop, and a voice asked, ‘Going Hounslow way?’
‘Yes, I am,’ Patsy said.
‘Then hop in.’ The voice paused. ‘It’s Miss Aylmer, isn’t it?’ And Patsy recognized Captain Maynard.
Patsy nodded, and then as she got into the car, said ‘Thank you,’ and awkwardly, not knowing what to call him, ‘Captain Maynard.’
‘Out of the flight deck ... Bill,’ he said, as he let in the clutch and drove off. ‘And yours out of the galley?’
‘Patsy.’
‘Liking it, Patsy?’
‘Very much.’
‘Except for today, eh?’ he asked. And then, when she said nothing added, ‘Sorry about the bumpy ride. Prentice told me I’d caused an accident at the back.’
‘You mean the spilt tray?’
‘That’s right. One of the girls found my flying a little ... how shall we put it? ... uneven.’
‘Me,’ Patsy said. ‘It was my fault. Everything went over the new upholstery ... the carpet. Captain Prentice was very much annoyed with me.’
‘Pardon my contradicting.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘My fault. I was on flying boats before. That was only my second trip on Astroliners.’ He gave her a quick sympathetic look. ‘So I’m new too.’
‘But I don’t see how it could have been your fault,’ Patsy said.
‘That’s because today was your very first trip. You’ll soon learn it isn’t only the weather that makes the flight bumpy. It could be the pilot.’
‘Oh, I’m sure—’ Patsy began, but he cut her short. ‘I don’t usually get confidential like this with stewardesses under training. With anyone else for that matter. But I believe you were worried. About spilling the tray, I mean.’ He paused. ‘Were you?’
‘Well,’ Patsy said, feeling her colour rising, ‘I thought—’
‘So you were! Well, you can forget all about it, because you certainly weren’t to blame. I missed the runway. Captain Prentice said that if we’d had a full load of passengers, we might not have been able to climb up and go round again on two engines.’ He laughed. ‘Don’t worry! He’s paid to say things like that to keep pilots on their toes.’
He looked away from the road for a moment to give her a brief glance. ‘What’s the matter? Did you feel sick?’
‘Well—’ Patsy began, but he relieved her of the necessity of going on any further by asking, ‘D’you live near here?’ ‘About a mile.’
‘Then I’ll take you. Can’t be far out of my way.’
Patsy was murmuring something about not bothering, but he cut her short with, ‘Up here?’ and then, when Patsy nodded, he added with a smile, ‘So you see, whoever else is worried, you mustn’t be.’
As the sports car turned into Mrs. Waterhouse’s road, Patsy was thinking how unexpected this pilot was—so concerned about other people’s feelings, so considerate and understanding, not glued to his dignity like Captain Prentice, but frank and easy and unaffected. And yet he must be three or four years older than the Training
‘Yes, sir,’ Mr. Crosbie said apologetically. ‘Sorry about the accident, sir. It was a bit bumpy, and poor Miss Aylmer—’
But Captain Prentice was already on his way back to the flight deck.
Slowly they descended lower and lower over London and landed.
It was with a feeling of relief that she put on her coat at five-thirty and hurried out to the airport gates, and stood alone, waiting for the 81 bus. She was even glad that Cynthia was spending the evening with some Maidenhead friends who had picked her up at the Admin Building and driven her off in the opposite direction from Mrs. Waterhouse’s. Just now, Patsy wanted to be alone, and Cynthia’s cheerful nonchalance over everything would have only underlined how much she herself cared.
It was chilly. Patsy shivered a little as she pulled up the collar of her camel-hair coat. Then suddenly a small black sports car stopped at the bus stop, and a voice asked, ‘Going Hounslow way?’
‘Yes, I am,’ Patsy said.
‘Then hop in.’ The voice paused. ‘It’s Miss Aylmer, isn’t it?’ And Patsy recognized Captain Maynard.
Patsy nodded, and then as she got into the car, said ‘Thank you,’ and awkwardly, not knowing what to call him, ‘Captain Maynard.’
‘Out of the flight deck ... Bill,’ he said, as he let in the clutch and drove off. ‘And yours out of the galley?’
‘Patsy.’
‘Liking it, Patsy?’
‘Very much.’
‘Except for today, eh?’ he asked. And then, when she said nothing added, ‘Sorry about the bumpy ride. Prentice told me I’d caused an accident at the back.’
‘You mean the spilt tray?’
‘That’s right. One of the girls found my flying a little ... how shall we put it? ... uneven.’
‘Me,’ Patsy said. ‘It was my fault. Everything went over the new upholstery ... the carpet. Captain Prentice was very much annoyed with me.’
‘Pardon my contradicting.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘My fault. I was on flying boats before. That was only my second trip on Astroliners.’ He gave her a quick sympathetic look. ‘So I’m new too.’
‘But I don’t see how it could have been your fault,’ Patsy said.
‘That’s because today was your very first trip. You’ll soon learn it isn’t only the weather that makes the flight bumpy. It could be the pilot.’
‘Oh, I’m sure—’ Patsy began, but he cut her short. ‘I don’t usually get confidential like this with stewardesses under training. With anyone else for that matter. But I believe you were worried. About spilling the tray, I mean.’ He paused. ‘Were you?’
‘Well,’ Patsy said, feeling her colour rising, ‘I thought—’
‘So you were! Well, you can forget all about it, because you certainly weren’t to blame. I missed the runway. Captain Prentice said that if we’d had a full load of passengers, we might not have been able to climb up and go round again on two engines.’ He laughed. ‘Don’t worry! He’s paid to say things like that to keep pilots on their toes.’
He looked away from the road for a moment to give her a brief glance. ‘What’s the matter? Did you feel sick?’
‘Well—’ Patsy began, but he relieved her of the necessity of going on any further by asking, ‘D’you live near here?’ ‘About a mile.’
‘Then I’ll take you. Can’t be far out of my way.’
Patsy was murmuring something about not bothering, but he cut her short with, ‘Up here?’ and then, when Patsy nodded, he added with a smile, ‘So you see, whoever else is worried, you mustn’t be.’
As the sports car turned into Mrs. Waterhouse’s road, Patsy was thinking how unexpected this pilot was—so concerned about other people’s feelings, so considerate and understanding, not glued to his dignity like Captain Prentice, but frank and easy and unaffected. And yet he must be three or four years older than the Training
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