June 27
I am so angry I could spit. More than spit. I could rip Neels’s balls off.
I got a call from George Field this afternoon saying that Neels had summoned him into his office and told him he was going to announce the closure of the Mail tomorrow morning. He wants George as editor to stand by him when he makes the announcement to staff. George was in deep shock. He hadn’t seen it coming and he wanted to ask me what was going on. I told him about Neels’s international ambitions and the demands of American investors that he get rid of his South African interests. We talked about why he didn’t sell the paper and George confirmed that there are financial problems. But Neels could have tried, for Christ’s sake. I like George and I don’t like the way Neels is treating him.
I snapped at Caroline who ran off to do her homework. When Neels came home, I gave him hell. He was expecting it, I guess; he didn’t fight back. But he looked really angry. He stood still with his fists clenched, kind of shaking. He looked like he was only just managing to control himself. It worried me. Then I told him he wasn’t sleeping in my room that night, or any night, and he turned around and left, just walked out of the house.
Probably gone to drown his sorrows.
Asshole!
Later... technically it’s the morning of June 28.
Cornelius isn’t back yet. For a moment I was worried. I thought perhaps he had gone out somewhere, gotten drunk and then crashed the car on the way home.
But now I know what’s happened. There’s another woman. I know there’s another woman. I don’t know who she is or where she is, but that’s where he’s gone. He had this strange expression on his face just before he left this evening. He decided then that if I wouldn’t let him sleep with me he’d go and sleep with her.
That would explain this feeling I’ve been having that I’m losing him, that he’s slipping away. I was losing him. It’s not just about the Mail. As I write this he’s out there fucking some bimbo.
Well, screw him! The bastard. The absolute total fucking bastard!
5
‘Take a seat please. I’ll tell Kim you’re here.’
The nurse disappeared through the doors marked ‘Critical Care Unit’. After the rushing around of the last couple of hours, Calder found it very hard to sit still even for a minute. The helicopter had taken Todd and him directly to a hospital on the edge of King’s Lynn. Langthorpe Aerodrome had been contacted and Kim informed about what had happened. Todd had been rushed into intensive care, but Calder was undamaged. He had returned to the airfield by taxi to file the accident report and call the owner of the Yak. The man’s dismay at what had happened to his beloved aircraft was overwhelmed by concern for Todd plus a tinge of fear that it could have been him injured in that plane. Then Calder had driven back to King’s Lynn to join Kim.
‘How is he?’ he asked as she came into the small relatives’ waiting room.
Her face was even paler than usual and her dark hair fell in bedraggled curls over her red-rimmed eyes. As she sat in a ball in the chair next to him, small and hunched up, she was shaking. ‘Oh, Alex. He’s still unconscious. They’ve stitched up the wound, but they think he’s fractured his skull.’
‘Is he breathing OK?’
‘Yes. It’s just they don’t know how long he will be under. And when he comes round whether there will be any... damage. You know. Permanent damage.’ She began to sob, and leaned into Calder who put his arm round her and squeezed gently. ‘He looks so pale. And his head... they had to shave some hair off. It’s all bandaged now. I asked them when he’ll wake up and they wouldn’t answer.’
Calder’s face tightened as he stared blindly ahead. Kim seemed to be trying to bury herself into his chest. ‘What if he doesn’t wake up, Alex?’ She looked up at him. ‘What if he doesn’t wake up?’
‘He’ll wake up.’
For a second there was a glimmer of confidence in her eyes and then she sat up, pushing him away. ‘You don’t know that. You’re just saying that to make me feel better, like you did with the aeroplane.’
Calder shrugged helplessly. ‘We have to believe he’ll wake up.’
‘You said it was perfectly safe. I was worried that the plane was so old, but you said it didn’t matter.’ A tear slipped its way into the corner of her mouth and she sniffed. ‘You always did take bloody idiotic risks. Like that time you crawled over the roof of South Court to get into the college ball. You were pissed out of your head and I was convinced you were going to kill yourself. You thought it was funny, but it was just so stupid.’
Calder knew he couldn’t run from this. ‘I know what I said, Kim. And it should have been safe, but it wasn’t. I’m sorry. I’m very sorry.’
Kim glared at him for a couple of seconds. And then she bit her lip. ‘What happened? No one here is absolutely sure. I can’t make sense of it.’
Calder gave her an account of the engine fire and the landing on the sandbar.
‘What do you think caused it?’
‘I don’t know, but my first guess is a cracked cylinder.’
‘Don’t they check for that kind of thing? The maintenance people? You said the plane was thoroughly checked.’
‘It was. I had another look at the logs just now. All the maintenance was up to date and signed off. I don’t think there’s anything else anyone could have done. Engine fires are nasty things, but they are rare. This is the first one I’ve experienced.’
‘So we just have to accept it? Will there be some kind of investigation?’
‘Oh, yes. The AAIB, that’s the Air Accident Investigation Board, will get involved. They’re very thorough. They’ll look through all the records, they’ll probably drag the aeroplane out of the water and examine it. They’ll find the cause, they nearly always do.’
‘Are you worried?’
‘About an investigation? No. I don’t think I did anything wrong. I’m worried about Todd.’
Kim gave him a weak smile. She clung on to his arm and more tears leaked from the corners of her eyes.
Had he been at fault? Should he have ditched? No, Todd could just as easily have hit his head on impact with the water, and it would have been hard to fish him out. Flying aeroplanes, especially old aeroplanes, was inherently dangerous. He should have admitted as much to Kim. She had trusted him, and because she had, Todd had.
‘Will the police be involved?’
Calder glanced at her. Pensive traces of a new worry furrowed her brow. ‘Probably,’ he replied.
‘Is there any way that someone could have caused this?’
‘You mean deliberately?’
She nodded.
‘I don’t think so. Unless they tampered with the engine somehow. Weakened the cylinder. But it’s pretty unlikely.’ Calder looked at Kim. ‘Isn’t it?’
Kim bit her lip. ‘Yes, I’m sure it is. It’s just that Todd has been asking all these questions about Martha’s death and no one else has shown any interest. That seems strange to me. His whole family seems strange. It’s almost as if they didn’t want him asking those questions.’
‘You don’t think...’
‘I don’t know what to think.’
‘Should you talk to the police about this?’
‘God, no.’ Kim’s voice was firm. ‘Todd would hate me to do that. I’m probably just imagining things. But see if you can get them to check that there was nothing funny going on, or at least bear it in mind.’