defensive battle in the desertâbut it means Iâve got to go and take a look-see what the chances are. You know theyâve grabbed all our fighter cover and sent it off to Greece? These things are sitting ducks, without fighter cover.â
The major slapped angrily at the nacelle of the Lysander. He had seemed to become more and more agitated as he spoke. The mechanic simply looked at him, unconsciously turning a large wrench over and over in his hands. The sweat and oil gleamed on his forehead and cheeks.
âI do wish youâd give a bit, Vince,â said the major. âBut if you wonât you wonât. Still, thereâs something I hope youâll do for me. Listen. Itâs been pretty tricky keeping Snailwood going. It was bad enough before Uncle Snaily died, but at least I had power of attorney then and the lawyers were tolerably helpful. But as soon as he was out of the way Aunt Ivy started to take the line that you were the one who was supposed to inherit and started throwing injunctions around and so on and itâs become pretty well impossible. Uncle Snaily left things in a total mess, as youâd expect. Mercifully Zenaâs married an American and gone to live in New York, but thatâs the only bright spot. Iâve been just about able to cope, with Joanâs help. But if I catch it on some hare-brained op. my generalâs dreamed upâI donât mind saying Iâve got the wind up about this oneâAunt Ivyâs going to take the line that with me out of the way youâre the heir, no matter what Iâve put in my will. Down with aunts.â
There was a pause. The majorâs last three words had had almost the intonation of a question.
âSir?â said the mechanic.
âAll right. I shouldnât have tried it. The point is, your mother â¦â
âPardon me interrupting, sir. My motherâs passed on.â
âNot as far as Iâm concerned, Vince. Sheâs alive and kicking in my world, and more of a nuisance than ever. If I thought the only reason youâd cleared out was to be shot of her, I wouldnât have blamed you. I donât blame you anyway, damn it. But â¦â
âPardon me, sir. Mr Toller told me â¦â
âQuite right. Iâll leave you alone. But assuming I come back in one pieceâand really thereâs no reason why I shouldnâtâthings have been quiet enough, in all conscience. If only they hadnât withdrawn those bloody fighters ⦠Think it over, wonât you, Vince? Thereâs nothing Iâd like better than a good long talk. Leave a note for me with the mess waiter, or someone, and weâll wander out under the desert stars and talk as though thereâd never been any war and Zena had never come to Snailwood.â
The appeal in the majorâs voice was very strong. The mechanic hesitated, nodded and began to turn back towards his work. He paused.
âYou wonât say anything to anyone about this, sir?â
âWhat? No, no, of course not. Fact, Iâve already told Toller youâre the chap who used to service the Jowett. If itâs any inducement to you, Vince, Iâve a bottle of Scotch in my kit. Carry on then, Aircraftman.â
The majorâs salute deliberately mimed the total superiority of the officer caste. Back in his role, he lounged into the sun-glare and out of sight. The mechanic stood where he was, gazing apparently without seeing it at the Lysander, but there was a sense of intelligence gathering itself to a focus to consider a problem. His hand teased unthinkingly at his upper lip. Suddenly he drew a deep breath and then shuddered, as if deliberately disrupting the image that had formed itself in his mind. He returned to his work.
Owing to the exigencies of war the inquiry into the loss of the Lysander did not take place for nearly three weeks and was in any case brief. Aircraftman Mason was a witness. He
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