Wild Lily (17 page)

‘This is Lily—’ Christ, he didn’t even know her surname!
Was Gabriel the Christian name of her father or his surname? He had no idea. ‘The one who parachuted with me.’

‘Jesus!’

Clarence and Mart stared with unfeigned admiration. It was a fact that Lily was still a skinny thing, but she had a presence out of all proportion to her size. Straightening up, wiping away her tears and tossing back the great mane of her golden hair, she did in fact look as if she could well jump out into the sky with complete lack of concern, and probably wing-walk as well if asked.

‘These are my friends, Lily – Clarence and Mart. They come from America. I met them at Brooklands. They are very interested in your parachute jump. They can’t believe a girl could do such a thing.’

‘Well, I did,’ she mumbled. ‘You can tell them.’

‘Yes, I did, and they were very impressed. They want to talk to you. Is your father in, or can we come in for a cup of tea and have a chat?’

‘Yes, if you like. It’s not very tidy.’

She was recovering, slowly. She shook hands with Clarence and Mart, and led the way into the cottage. Antony realized that she had grown quite a lot since he had seen her last, and was now on her way to being tall. And skinny was now the wrong word for her – she was slender, willowy perhaps, having lost her gawky childishness and gained the beginnings of a bosom. She moved with an easy, athletic grace. She was no longer a child.

Antony was unprepared for the impact of Helena’s
gorgeous pictures which still crowded the walls of the cramped living room, so totally out of place and yet so glorious. He had forgotten how crazy they appeared in such a setting, and he heard the two Americans’ shocked intake of breath as they shook their heads to make sure their eyes were not deceiving them.

‘Jesus, Ant, are these for real?’

‘Yes, they’re mine – at least, my father’s. We hid them here for the time being.’

‘They can’t be safe here, surely? The door open, anyone could see—’

‘No one comes down here much, only the neighbours, and no one comes in the house. Gabriel keeps himself very much to himself – that’s the kids’ father. Where is he, Lily? Is he likely to come in soon?’

‘No, not till dusk.’

‘God in heaven, what treasures! A Van Gogh, surely? And this portrait – is it a Rubens?’

‘Yes. They’re real. But I can’t sell them, not with their belonging to the government now – now that all my father’s things have been taken. I suppose I’ve stolen them actually, although I don’t think of it like that. What can I do?’

‘We’ll have to think of a way to help you. There are plenty of people back home who would give them a home, no questions asked, believe me.’

‘Well, they’re safe here for the time being.’ Antony did not want the business of the day to be side-tracked by the paintings. He turned to Lily. ‘Do you know where my chute is
now? I got it repacked after you jumped. And left it somewhere.’

‘It’s in the garage with the Rolls-Royce. In the Rolls, I think. To keep the mice off.’

Antony was not keen to go anywhere near the garage since he had stolen Tom’s bicycle, Tom’s cottage being so close, and he wondered how he could manoeuvre Lily into fetching it for him. But Clarence and Mart were already questioning her about her jump and she was starting to relive that amazing day in her dull life, all her animation returning, the tears dried, the old laughter ringing out. Antony had forgotten how gorgeous she was, and all the fun days with her and the boys flooded back as he watched her. He had taken it all for granted in those days – how things had changed!

It was obvious that Clarence and Mart were now set on taking Lily up and getting into parachuting. Antony watched Lily blossom with excitement.

‘And Antony too – he could come up and we could jump together! He wanted to do it so badly, didn’t you, Antony? You took me up as a sort of practice, to see if I might get killed, didn’t you? It was so wonderful – you must come too this time!’

‘To see if he might get killed?’ The two Americans were laughing.

‘Well,’ said Mart, ‘if we get this chute of yours, Ant, there’s no reason why the two of you shouldn’t make a jump together. There’s room in Clarence’s crate – if he flies it and I come to push you out. It takes four. And then if you two survive I
reckon I could have a go myself – I really love the idea. If you heard how Lindbergh described it, and now Lily too … to overcome the fear, and then such an experience – it’s mindblowing. I want to do this thing.’

‘Us first, me and Antony!’ shouted Lily.

‘What a gal!’ shouted Clarence.

The unlikely meeting was proving hilarious, but Antony was anxious to be away before Gabriel came back, for he was uncomfortably aware that what he was getting Lily into was not really in Lily’s best interests. He told himself that she needed some fun in her life, that he would be doing her a good turn, but at heart he was worried. Come to that, for all his talk, he was worried about his own part in it: was he going to be brave enough when it came to the point of no return? Even reclaiming his chute … a great uneasiness was beginning to spoil his day.

‘We must go, before your father gets back, Lily. We don’t want to get you into trouble.’

‘We’ll take the motor and collect the chute, eh?’

‘Can I come too?’ Lily was loath to let Antony out of her sight.

‘And me! And me!’ Squashy shouted.

‘There’s not enough room!’

‘There is! There is!’

They made room, even for Barky, tumbled over each other in the cramped dickie seat, and Antony found himself with Lily in his lap, her cheek against his. He could not believe he had forgotten her all this time.

‘I’ve never stopped thinking about you, Antony, every day. I could not believe you would not come back, even if only for the pictures.’

‘Oh, I’m so sorry, Lily. I’m a rat. Nothing has gone right for me. I can’t get a job. I had to escape Aunt Maud—’

‘She came back here, looking for you. She was terribly angry and wouldn’t believe we hadn’t seen you. But in the end she went off to see Mrs Goldbeater, and she wanted to take Ludo home with her, but Squashy started to scream, you know how he is—’

‘I screamed,’ Squashy put in. ‘I really screamed and she went all purple. I kicked her.’

Antony groaned. He seemed to bring out the worst in people.

Lily directed Clarence into the front drive of Lockwood Hall, avoiding the chain across the entrance and using the track the farm took to get onto the road. They came up to the garage and Antony shrank down in his seat, whispering to Lily, ‘I mustn’t meet Tom, whatever happens. I’ve stolen his bicycle.’

Lily relapsed into peals of laughter. ‘I’ll go and get it. You are a coward, Antony! Tom’s a darling.’

‘Not to me he isn’t.’

They all piled out except Antony, and the two Americans took some time admiring the Rolls-Royce. Fortunately Tom did not seem to be around and the chute was retrieved and stuffed back into the car.

‘We can walk back from here, me and Squashy and Barky,’ Lily said. ‘But promise—’

‘We promise! We’ll be back for you in two shakes, darling, to take you skyjumping, and your boyfriend here too.’

Lily giggled. As Antony arranged himself more comfortably in the back seat she turned to him and whispered, ‘Goodbye, boyfriend.’ The old childish love for him shone shamelessly out of her eyes.

‘Idiot!’

But she only laughed.

They drove back to Brooklands, the two Americans exclaiming all the way about the marvels of Lily, and Antony silent and deeply disturbed about what he had set in motion. Did nothing ever run smoothly for him? He was excited (and terrified) about making the jump, but even more disturbed by what the repercussions might be for Lily. He had never asked her whether they were thriving, or starving, or what poor Gabriel was doing working until dusk, or whether Lily herself had a job. He had seen for himself how Squashy was growing from a rather cute brainless little boy into a far from cute lout, probably unable to hold down a job, poor Lily’s responsibility. The cottage (apart from the pictures) was as threadbare as it had ever been.

But it wasn’t his business, he supposed.

Back at Brooklands he felt that with summer approaching he must soon find himself a job here. Surely his friendship with Clarence would count for something when it came to the pilot’s job. But, as always, when they parked the car, there were the usual hangers-on waiting to talk to the two rich Americans. Envious glances came Antony’s way as he
disentangled himself from the dickie seat with the parachute in his arms.

One man, Antony noticed, was becoming familiar, a hardened ex-serviceman called Rob. He nodded to Antony and, eyebrows raised, asked, ‘You used that thing?’

‘Not yet.’

‘Hi, Rob.’ Clarence greeted him pleasantly. ‘Shall we have a drink?’

They wandered off together and Mart said to Antony, ‘Let’s go and see where we can hire another of these things.’

Much as he wanted to enquire about parachutes, Antony would far rather have been invited for a drink with Clarence.

Lily could scarcely believe Antony had come back to her. She had had no idea where he was and had answered the dread Aunt Maud quite truthfully when she said she did not know. Knowing that he wasn’t at Tom’s, she had always assumed that he had gone back to London with the dread Aunt Maud and felt sorry for him. And now it seemed he had been enjoying himself quite near at hand – he had managed to get something at Brooklands, after all – but had never bothered to come and see her.

So nothing was any different. She wished now that he had stayed away. Seeing him again reawakened all the crazy passions she thought she had put behind her. He had always been a dream, of course, the unattainable, but there was nothing else in her life to dream about. All the fun had gone with the boys departing. The village boys who made advances got very short shrift and only Cedric was received with any grace. Lily did not have a good reputation in the village, her lack of respect, quick temper and unladylike ways causing her to lose jobs in
spite of her acknowledged capability. She was strong, able and intelligent but hard to get on with. Wild, they called her.

But in spite of her shortcomings there was sympathy for the small beleaguered family now that the threat of eviction hung over them. The row of workers’ cottages were part of the estate commandeered by the government, due at some point to be put up for sale. Lily herself did not dare consider what might lie ahead if they lost the only home they had ever known.

Antony had never thought to enquire, she realized, how things were with them. He seemed to have some smart rich friends, but he did not boast of any achievements in the flying world, or even of having a job. The parachute jumping was what had brought him to see her, but only to get his parachute back. She could not deny that the prospect of doing another jump, and with Antony too from what she gathered, was wonderful, but hedged around with difficulties: to keep the intention from her father, to escape for a day without Squashy, even to come back safely. How to get there for a start.

She tried to push it out of her mind.

But the following morning there was a visit from Mrs Goldbeater. It was a beautiful morning and the door of the cottage was open, and the woman was standing there before Lily had any warning.

‘Hullo, my dear, can I have a word?’

Lily could see that she had already seen the pictures, for her jaw was dropping immediately after her words were uttered. With a strong sense of foreboding, she invited the woman in.
No use apologizing for the untidiness, the dust, the sewing scattered around, the empty porridge plates on the table … what was the point?

‘My word, these are Sylvester’s pictures, surely?’

‘Antony left them here.’

‘How extraordinary! But of course, they are not his any longer – how can the boy think … Oh dear …’ Her voice trailed away. Then, rallying: ‘It’s Antony I’ve come to see you about actually. I believe he was here in the village yesterday?’

How did this gossip come her way? Who saw him?

‘He came to see me.’

‘You must know that Miss Sylvester, his aunt, is very anxious to trace him. I know you said you had no idea where he was, but now you must know. It is really important that she is able to find him. There is so much unfinished business to tie up. The authorities are very keen to interview him and it is no good his running away from that. He is still a minor and in Miss Sylvester’s charge. She is his only next of kin. Antony is such a silly boy to think he can just wash his hands of all that has happened. And these pictures stored in your cottage – it is truly ridiculous! The boy has no sense of responsibility whatsoever …’

The poor woman had such a lot of indignation to express that Lily stopped listening. She knew that Mrs Goldbeater had a good heart, and if Antony had stayed with her a bit longer no doubt she and her husband would have helped him get himself sorted out. But the shadow of the evil Aunt Maud would not have gone away.

‘Now tell me, Lily, where is he? Did he leave you an address?’

Lily thought hard, and remembered how Antony had abandoned her and only come back to her because he wanted his parachute. The more she thought about his neglect of her, without sending a word, the more hurtful it was. And even now he had only come back because those two American loonies had wanted to see her.

‘He’s working at Brooklands.’

The words slipped out, and as soon as she had uttered them she guessed she had made a mistake. But even then she felt justified. After all, he had his American friends to support him now. Aunt Maud was surely no longer a threat and she did not know his address after all.

‘Well, that’s something. I can pass that information on to Miss Sylvester. She can look into it. Thank goodness for that. We can’t help being a bit worried about Antony, you see – what happened here was so dreadful. The boy has never known a real family life – he is quite rudderless and has no concept of responsibility. He is really not fit to be out in the world on his own, poor lad. We would help him if he would allow us.’

Being looked after by the Goldbeaters would be far nicer than by Aunt Maud, Lily thought, so perhaps there were possibilities there. Antony could live with them and still work at Brooklands and then she would still see him.

But how Mrs Goldbeater did go on! Not really unlike Aunt Maud. Then, as she turned to go, she hesitated and said, ‘And you, Lily, are things all right for you? Your father, oh dear, he
shouldn’t be working on the roads at his age, and he such a competent gardener. He was too proud to come asking for work – you know, I am sure he could have got gardening work if he had asked around. Would you like me to try and find something for him in the village, if I can?’

Yes, she jolly well would like, but she did not want to be beholden to Mrs Goldbeater, and her father would think she had been asking favours on his behalf.

‘I don’t know. He will think I asked.’

‘Oh, I’m sure we can get round that. I will see what I can do. You’ve so much on your plate with Squashy and your old dad as well, such a burden for a young girl.’

She meant well and Lily tried to look grateful, but was glad to see the back of her as she went off home. Guilt nagged her now about having told her that Antony was working at Brooklands, but at least the information was vague and perhaps not all that useful. Or so she told herself. Aunt Maud would make a bizarre figure amongst the hard-bitten hangers-on at Brooklands and she might not want to risk making a fool of herself poking around the workshops. Or so Lily hoped.

The only good thing to dwell on was the thought of making another parachute jump. The idea of going up in an aeroplane again and making a jump with Antony was so blissful that even to think of it brought a great smile to her face.

She started to sing as she got out the broom and set to work on the chaotic mess that was her home.

Antony woke up with a hangover and lay in bed for some time, not inspired to leap out of bed and face a new day. The night before Clarence had invited him to a meal at his elegant hotel and there had been a long discussion about making the parachute jump. Antony’s parachute was repacked, and Mart had bought another one for Lily to use. Mart was there, full of enthusiasm, and also the out-of-work pilot Rob, with whom Clarence now seemed to be very friendly.

Antony could see – it was quite plain – that Rob was sucking up to Clarence in the hope of getting the job that Antony so badly hankered after. Antony thought him an oik, not in the same league as himself, but he certainly could talk with great expertise about maintaining the plane as well as flying it, which Antony knew he could not. Several other hopefuls were always trying to muscle in on the hope of getting this plum job and Clarence had mostly dismissed them, but he seemed to like Rob. Rob was a good bit older than Clarence, having been in the RFC during the war, and seemed something of a father figure to the ebullient American. He was a man of few words, but a certain authority seemed to emanate from his lanky frame which Antony could see
impressed Clarence. The more Antony saw of them together the more he saw his bright prospects slipping away.

He was also getting very short of money and already owed his landlady a month’s rent. Having taken Helena’s jewellery up to London he discovered that the experts required more than his assurance that ‘his grandmother had left them to him in her will’. They wanted provenance, surety, and were not impressed by his now rather shabby clothes and air of desperation. He guessed they thought he had stolen them.

‘Perhaps a letter from your lawyer?’ Or a request to see the will in question, or a meeting with his parents, perhaps? Nothing that he could comply with. He sold a few pieces to rather shadier persons on downbeat premises and still hadn’t enough to see him through to the end of the month. Perhaps Clarence and Mart would buy the Van Gogh, no questions asked? But he did not dare venture the idea.

Jumping out with the parachute – once his dearest wish – now that it was near to being realized was turning out to be merely a most terrifying obstacle in the path of his disintegrating life. He was no longer in the mood to enjoy it. Once, with the wild Lily, it had all been terrific fun: he would never forget her overflowing delight, her euphoria, her amazing blue eyes flashing with pride and love – yes, love for him which had always engulfed him in her presence. What had happened, what had he done to her, to discard such innocent delight? Lying in bed with the rain pattering on the window, he felt so wretched that he wanted to die. If the parachute failed to open, he would be happy at last. Perhaps a good idea. That is,
if he even found the courage to jump. He wasn’t even sure about that.

But the idea was going ahead with his gung-ho friends. He had set it in motion, and he could not stop the wheels turning now even if he wanted to. Mart was desperate to see his dreams put into practice, eager to have a go himself once he had tested it out with his friends – at least, that’s how Antony perceived it. Also thrilled to have discovered a
girl
, for heaven’s sake, who had the guts to do such a thing.

‘This Brooklands is just a fantastic place, my old bean,’ he exclaimed to Clarence over dinner, having downed most of a bottle of Clarence’s champagne. ‘How great that I caught up with you! And I shall soon get my ticket – my instructor is very encouraging – and then I can get my own crate and we can try this chute jumping lark ourselves.

Alcohol sparked the conversation and even the reserved Rob had been induced to relate some of his flying adventures, which Antony saw raised him even higher in Clarence’s esteem. No wonder Antony today had no inclination to get out of bed. Rather snuggle deep down and forget.

By the end of the month the weather was set fair and the parachute escapade was set in motion with no hope of back-tracking. Antony had no hand in the arrangements: the two Americans were in charge, choosing the date, weather permitting, the arrangements to collect Lily, the most convenient whereabouts
to make the jump and how best to make the aeroplane easy to jump out of. (Wrenching the door off seemed to be the easiest solution.)

Antony had a say in where to do the deed: over the same small airfield in Wiltshire where he had taken Lily, where no questions were asked and there was no one to see what went on save a few distant farmers. There was no inclination to do it over Brooklands, even should they get permission, for they knew they were considered idiot amateurs by most of the fraternity they mingled with and a crowd would gather more to laugh than to applaud.

Clarence was worried about actually flying the plane, and even considered asking Rob to fly it, but as there was only room in the plane for four of them that meant he would have to stay behind. Mart was determined to go. It was ‘his baby’, he said, and the two jumpers would need all his help to time the jump properly ‘and push ’em out if need be’. He grinned widely. ‘We want them to land in the right place, not out in the bushes somewhere. Then we can go down and join ’em. I’ll supply the champagne!’

Antony wanted to join in the happy anticipation of the two Americans – after all, it had always been his dearest dream to do a jump. But that had been in his carefree days and now the jump seemed more threatening than alluring. His mind-set had changed, and his once happy-go-lucky future had turned into a bleak and depressing prospect.

The weather was set fair. Clarence arranged to collect Lily very early in the morning, when she could steal out of the
house unseen, and Antony was commanded to report to the airfield to coincide with her arrival.

‘We’ll be off before anyone comes nosing around,’ said Mart. ‘No questions asked. Gee, I can’t wait for this! Then we’ll do it too, Clarence, eh? Are you game?’

Clarence obviously wasn’t but smiled politely.

‘Yeah. All systems go.’