I began to apologise for not having settled the financial details with him before, but he cut me short: ‘I don’t want your apologies. I want a cheque.’ The rudeness of his tone jolted me. But it was typical of the man, and if I expected deference on account of my financial standing in the company he made it clear I wasn’t going to get it.
He wanted the money right away to meet some bills and I had to go back to the quarters for my cheque book. That was how I first came into real contact with Else, the fifth character in this extraordinary story. She was standing at the entrance to the quarters, calling for Diana.
‘She’s just taken coffee up to the hangar,’ I said.
The girl turned at the sound of my voice. She wore the same brown overall that she’d worn the previous day when Diana had brought her to the hangar and in her hands she held four very still but sharp-eyed fowls. ‘I have bring these,’ she said, making a slight movement of her hands that caused the one cockerel to beat his wings angrily.
‘I didn’t know we were having a feast tonight,’ I said.
‘No, no. Mrs Carter starts to keep chicken for you, I think.’ The girl’s voice, with its marked foreign accent, was like a breath of the old life, a reminder of brief meetings in bars and hotel bedrooms that is all in the way of memories that most pilots take out of the cities where they touch down.
‘She’ll be back in a minute,’ I said. ‘If you and the chickens can wait.’ I started to move through the door and then stopped and we stood there for a moment smiling at each other, not saying anything.
‘You are partners with Mr Saeton now?’ she said at last.
‘Yes.’
She nodded and her gaze strayed to the trees that screened us from the hangar. Her face was rather square, the cheekbones high, the skin pale and dappled with freckles. Her nose tipped up slightly at the end as though she’d pressed it too often against windows as a kid. She wore no make-up and her eyebrows were thick and fair, like the untidy mop of her hair that blew in the wind. She turned to me slowly and her lips parted as though she were about to say something, but she just stood there looking up at me with a frown as though by staring at me she could resolve some riddle that puzzled her. Her eyebrows were dragged down at the corners and her eyes shifted from the adhesive tape on my forehead to meet mine with a direct, level gaze. They were the colour of mist in a mountain valley — a soft grey.
‘What were you doing up at the hangar the other night?’ I had asked the question without thinking.
Her lips moved slightly at the corners. She had a very mobile mouth. ‘Perhaps I ask you why you run away, eh?!
For an instant I thought she had connected me with the police inquiries in the neighbourhood. But then she asked, ‘Are you an engineer?’ and I knew it was all right.
‘Yes,’ I said.
‘And you work on the engines with Mr Saeton?’
I nodded.
‘Then perhaps we meet again, yes?’ She smiled and thrust the birds into my hands. ‘Will you please give these to Mrs Carter.’ She half-turned to go and then hesitated. ‘When you do not know what to do with yourself, perhaps you come and talk with me. It is very lonely up here sometimes.’ She turned then and walked across the clearing and as I watched her disappear amongst the trees I felt excitement singing through my blood.
The story of Else Langen was a jig-saw puzzle that I had to piece together, bit by bit. I asked Saeton about her that night, but all he’d say was that she was a German D.P. ‘Yes, but what’s her story?’ I persisted. ‘Tubby says her father died in a concentration camp.’
He nodded.
‘Well?’ I asked.
His eyes narrowed. ‘Why are you so interested in her?’ he demanded. ‘Have you been talking to the girl?’
‘I had a few words with her this morning,’ I admitted.
‘Well, keep clear of her.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I tell you to,’ he growled. ‘I don’t trust her.’
‘But you had her cooking here for you.’
‘That was-’ He stopped and his jaw stiffened. ‘Have some sense,’ he added. ‘The girl’s German and this engine we’re working on was first designed in Germany.’
‘Is that why you’re sleeping up at the hangar now?’ I asked. ‘Are you suggesting that the girl-’
‘I’m not suggesting anything,’ he snapped. ‘I’m just telling you to keep clear of her. Or is it too much to expect you to keep your hands off a woman for five weeks?’
The sneer in his voice brought me to my feet. ‘If you think-’
‘Oh, for God’s sake, Neil. Sit down. All I’m asking you to do is not to get talking to anyone outside of the four of us here. For your sake as well as mine,’ he added pointedly.
I might have taken his advice if the monotony of our life hadn’t got on my nerves. Perhaps monotony is the wrong word. It was tension really. The work itself was exciting enough. But we never relaxed. The four of us were cooped up together, never leaving the aerodrome, always in the same atmosphere of pressure, always in each other’s company. Within a fortnight the strain was beginning to tell. Tubby ceased to whistle at the bench and his round, cheerful face became morose, almost sulky. Diana did her best, but her chatter was hard and brittle against the solid background of long hours in the hangar. Saeton became impossible — tense and moody, flying into a rage at the slightest provocation or at nothing at all.
The atmosphere got on my nerves. I had to find some relaxation, and automatically it seemed I began thinking of Else more and more often. It is very lonely up here sometimes. I could see the lift of her eyebrows, the smile in her eyes and the slight spread of the corners of her mouth. When you do not know what to do with yourself… The invitation couldn’t have been plainer. I brooded over it at my work, and particularly I brooded over Diana’s suggestion that the girl had been a camp-follower. Saeton hadn’t denied it. In the end I asked Tubby about it. ‘I wasn’t interested in her, if that’s what you mean,’ he answered ‘I don’t go for foreign women.’
‘What about Saeton?’ I asked.
Bill?’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘I wouldn’t know.’ And then he added almost viciously. ‘They all fall for him. He’s got something that appeals to women.’
‘And she fell for him?’
‘She was always around before Diana came.’ He glanced up at me from the fuel pump he was assembling and his eyes crinkled. The monastic life getting you down? Well, you shouldn’t have much trouble with Else. Randall used to take her out in his car when he visited us up here.’
It was a warm, soft night despite a clear sky and after dinner I said I’d take a stroll. Saeton looked across at me quickly, but he said nothing and a moment later I was striding through the still dampness of the woods, my heart suddenly light with the sense of relief at escaping at last from the atmosphere of the aerodrome. A track ran from the quarters down to the road and a little farther on I found the gates of the Manor. A light shone through the trees and the gentle putter of an electric light plant sounded across the silence of the lawns. An owl flapped like a giant moth to the shelter of the trees.
I went round to the side of the house, and through an uncurtained window saw Else standing over a table rubbing salt into a large ham. Her sleeves were rolled up and her face was flushed. She was a big, well-built girl with a full bosom and wide shoulders. She looked soft and pleasant, working there in that big kitchen and I found myself tingling with the desire to touch her, to feel the warm roundness of her body under my hands. I stood there for quite a while, watching her, liking the capable movements of her hands and the glowing concentration of her features. At length I moved to the door and knocked.