A Family Affair Page 7

  She turned around. Tom Doubleday was rushing towards them carrying his camera, a case and a tripod. Her heart leapt into her mouth but she waved at him, blushed and grinned. Guiltily, she looked at Ned.

  ‘Ned, there’s a photographer here to take your picture,’ she said. ‘Don’t climb aboard yet.’

  Tom was panting when he reached them. ‘I’m glad I caught you…Didn’t think I’d get here in time…Which one’s Ned, Clover?’

  Clover introduced them.

  ‘You’re just in time, mate,’ Amos informed him. ‘Two more minutes and you’d have missed all the fun.’

  ‘Do you mind if I take a photograph of you and your machine, Ned?’ Tom asked. ‘It’s for my own interest really.’

  ‘I’ve got no objection,’ Ned replied.

  ‘Maybe the Dudley Herald would like a copy?’ Clover suggested to the reporter. ‘It could illustrate your article.’

  The reporter nodded. ‘That’d be perfect. We could make a proper feature of it.’

  ‘What’s your name, by the way?’ Ned asked.

  ‘Julian Oakley.’ Julian smiled. ‘At your service.’

  ‘Welcome to this little gathering. Let’s hope you get something worth reporting.’

  ‘I have every confidence, Mr Brisco,’ Julian replied diplomatically. ‘And a picture will certainly help, if it comes out.’

  ‘Great,’ Tom said. ‘It’ll come out all right, have no fear. Now, if you can just bear with me a minute while I set up my camera and put in a plate…’ When Tom had found a suitable place to stand that showed the biplane off to best advantage, he adjusted the legs of his tripod to compensate for the uneven ground. ‘If you like, I’ll take one of you, Ned, standing at the side of the machine, then another with you sitting in it.’ He hid his head under the black cloth that enabled him to see an inverted image on the ground glass screen. He focused it, then inserted a photographic plate into the back of the camera and pulled out the dark slide that protected it from unwanted light. He screwed a shutter release bulb into the body of the lens. ‘Smile, please.’

  ‘Can I have one with Clover and Amos on?’ Ned asked. ‘Have you brought enough plates?’

  ‘No trouble, Ned,’ Tom said obligingly.

  So Amos took his place by Ned and Clover self-consciously shuffled into the frame. Ned suggested she stand between them. Tom took out the exposed plate and inserted a new one.

  ‘Right…Look into the lens and smile, please.’

  The shutter clicked, the group dispersed, Ned clambered up onto his machine and posed for another photograph.

  ‘If I can get one of you in flight as well…Give me one minute to swap plates…’ Tom rushed to finish his task then thanked Ned for waiting.

  ‘I think we’re ready now,’ Ned called. ‘Amos, shift the chock…Wish me luck, you lot.’

  ‘Good luck,’ Clover called, echoed by the rest of them.

  Amos removed the chock and the biplane rolled downhill, rapidly picking up speed. Clover saw Ned gently pull the levers that worked the flaps on the trailing edges of the wings and tail and, magically, the glider lifted into the air. She watched, mesmerised, unable to speak as its trajectory levelled out. Momentarily the wings dipped from side to side as Ned played with the controls and Clover was reminded of a heron she’d once seen floating with absolute grace and composure over a field not unlike the one she could see now below her. The biplane seemed to climb a little, but from these heights it was difficult to tell how much. It turned slightly to the right, then to the left and Clover knew that Ned was testing his controls for response. Smiling, her eyes sparkling with tears of admiration at Ned’s achievement, she turned briefly to Tom. Her only fear now was that Ned was going to run out of terrain. He was rapidly approaching the New Rowley Road and the Springfield Colliery.

  Suddenly, Clover was anxious. ‘What’s he going to do now, Amos?’

  ‘Practise landing a bit sharp, I wouldn’t be surprised,’ Amos replied sardonically.

  Clover realised that of course, Ned had never been able to practise a landing, for he’d never got that far before. Last time he’d crash-landed.

  ‘Think he can do it, Amos?’

  ‘He’s gunna have to try. The ground’s a bit rough down there though, all them great tufts of grass and gorse bushes and pit shafts…And that bloody stupid hoss, look…’

  Clover held her breath. The next seconds seemed like hours. The aircraft looked small in the distance now but she discerned it descending, lower and lower. From where Clover stood it looked as if the tail end touched down first and she realised his wisdom and foresight in fitting a tail wheel. Then the narrow bicycle wheels made contact with the ground and the whole assembly seemed to shake and flop about as it came to a halt over the rough field.

  She breathed a sigh of relief. ‘He’s done it!’ she yelled, ecstatic at Ned’s success. She turned to Tom Doubleday and Julian, jumping up and down with excitement. ‘He’s done it. Did you see that? He’s done it.’

  ‘That was pretty impressive,’ Julian declared. ‘Wait till our readers hear about this. Ned Brisco will be a hero. He was in the air about fifteen seconds by my reckoning.’

  ‘What d’you reckon that is in terms of distance?’ Tom asked.

  ‘Gettin’ on for two hundred yards,’ Amos estimated. ‘At least. We can easy pace it out. Come on, Clover, we should be getting down there to him. We’ll have to congratulate him.’

  ‘Yes, we’d better.’ She turned to Tom Doubleday as Amos went back to fetch the horse and cart. ‘I’d best get down there,’ she said apologetically.

  ‘Do you mind if I come with you?’ he suggested. ‘Maybe we could walk down together.’

  Clover smiled happily. ‘All right.’ Her elation all at once took on a new perspective. ‘Would you like me to carry something for you? Your case, maybe?’

  ‘Thanks.’ He handed her the case that contained his plates. ‘It’s not too heavy, is it?’

  ‘Not at all,’ she said and they began the steep descent down Rough Hill.

  ‘That was quite a spectacle,’ Tom said, ‘seeing man and machine fly. Quite a spectacle. Something I’ll never forget. Something to tell my grandchildren about.’

  ‘Quite a spectacle,’ Clover agreed. ‘I’m so pleased he succeeded. He’s worked ever so hard for it, you wouldn’t believe. He lives and breathes this aviation lark.’

  ‘But you obviously share some of his enthusiasm?’

  ‘Oh, I do. Because he would never allow it to beat him. He’s read everything about what the Wright Brothers have done and wanted to prove to himself that he could do it as well. He knew he could. You have to admire such determination, such faith. I suppose his enthusiasm has rubbed off on me a little bit.’

  ‘So how long have you been courting, Clover?’

  ‘Oh, we’re not courting, Tom.’ She looked at him earnestly and almost tripped over a tuft of grass.

  ‘You’re not? But I got the impression from your stepsister that you were.’

  Clover shook her head and, with her fingers, brushed aside her hair that was blowing about her face. ‘I don’t know what Ramona’s told you about me and Ned, but we’re definitely not courting. We’re only friends. Good friends, but only friends.’

  She could see Ned scrambling out of his glider that looked like a small toy from here. He walked round to the rear of the craft, fiddled with the tail and checked the tail wheel.

  ‘Well she seems to think you’re courting, Clover.’

  ‘No, she doesn’t, Tom,’ she answered decisively. ‘She knows very well that Ned is only a friend. She knows very well we’re not courting.’

  ‘So why would she…?’

  Clover looked at him and saw a flicker of realisation in his eyes.

  He caught her look and smiled dismissively. ‘So, what’s the next step for Ned as regards aviation?’

  ‘For Ned? Oh, powered flight, he reckons. Obviously, he’s going to need an engine.’

  ‘Well there
are plenty of firms locally who make engines. He could use a motor car engine, I daresay.’

  ‘I don’t think they’re suitable,’ she replied. ‘Too heavy and not enough power – so he says. The other problem is that he pays for all this out of his own pocket. The reason he asked the newspaper to come and report it was so that he might get some factory owner interested enough to sponsor him somehow and contribute to the costs.’

  ‘Good idea. I hope he succeeds in that as well. It would be a crying shame if the project had to stop through lack of money.’

  ‘It would,’ Clover agreed. ‘Ned has a dream. He wants to develop these machines – these aeroplanes – enough to carry freight and even passengers. He wants to start his own factory building them.’

  ‘Well, what a dream, eh, Clover?’

  She looked at him and smiled. ‘I know. What a dream. You have to admire it. But he sees such potential.’

  After a few seconds pause, Tom said, ‘Can I ask you something, Clover?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Ask away.’

  ‘I can see you’re very attached to Ned but…well, if you’re not courting, may I ask if I could take you out tonight?’

  She thought he would hear the sudden pounding of her heart and she was sure she must have coloured crimson, but she smiled delightedly, wide-eyed. ‘Oh, I’d love to. But what about Ramona?’

  ‘Ramona?’ he queried, a puzzled look clouding his handsome face.

  ‘Yes. She won’t be very pleased.’

  ‘I don’t understand. What’s she got to do with it?’

  ‘Well…’ She uttered a little laugh of embarrassment. ‘Aren’t you and Ramona supposed to be—?’

  Tom laughed out loud. ‘Me and Ramona? Has she told you that?’

  ‘No, she’s said nothing. I just got the impression that…You always seem very close, Tom. Heads together in the taproom…you know?’

  He laughed again. ‘Well, it’s an illusion, Clover. There’s nothing between Ramona and me.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Tom. I really was under the impression.’ She smiled, embarrassed but so relieved. She was relieved on two counts; one, that he and Ramona were not courting and two, that he was therefore not being two-timed on account of Sammy.

  ‘Oh, Ramona’s always very bright and friendly. I like her. And she’s a fine looking girl. I flatter myself to believe that if I asked her out she would accept. But you’re the one I’ve always set my cap at, Clover. Why else d’you think I’ve been calling so regularly at the Jolly Collier? To see you. Trouble is, you’ve been so elusive. You kept hiding yourself away.’

  She laughed and her eyes lit up like bright blue crystals. ‘Only because I didn’t want you to see me all scruffy.’ Then she was stumped for words again.

  ‘You look good in anything, Clover.’ He paused, certain she would savour the compliment. ‘So can I call for you at, say, eight o’ clock?’

  ‘Yes, eight o’ clock would suit well. What shall we do, though?’

  ‘I don’t know yet. Go for a walk maybe? This weather seems very settled. It should be a pleasant enough evening.’

  ‘All right.’ She smiled and there was a skip in her step now.

  Julian, the Dudley Herald reporter, had tagged along with Amos who was leading the horse and cart carefully down the steep slope. They remained a good sixty yards or so behind Clover and Tom and Amos furnished him with a few background details that he would be able to use in his story. Eventually they all reached the grinning Ned, who could scarcely contain his joy. He’d inspected the aircraft and declared it free of damage.

  ‘Tonight, you lot, I’m having a celebration and you’re all invited.’

  Tom’s eyes met Clover’s and they both smiled with resignation that their planned evening stroll might have been thwarted.

  ‘Where at?’ Amos asked.

  ‘At the Jolly Collier. Is it all right, Clover if we all pile into the snug at your place tonight? I want my mother and father to come, and Amos’s wife.’

  ‘I expect it will be all right,’ she replied, catching Tom’s look again. ‘Is Tom invited?’

  ‘Yes and you, mate…’ He nodded at Julian. ‘Bring your wives as well.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Tom, ‘Tell you what. I’ll develop and print the pictures I’ve got and bring them with me.’

  ‘That would be lovely,’ Clover enthused. She would see Tom after all. ‘I want to be first to see them, Tom,’ she said with a wink. ‘Can you bring them about eight?’

  Chapter 5

  Tom Doubleday showed up in the taproom wearing a smart grey suit with a subtle stripe. His plain royal blue tie contrasted well with his white cotton shirt and starched round-edged collar, and the silver chain of his pocket watch hung glistening across his waistcoat.

  ‘Well, you look smart tonight, Tom, and no two ways.’ Ramona greeted chirpily.

  He smiled gratefully at the compliment. ‘Thank you, Ramona. That’s exactly what I needed to hear.’

  ‘So who’s the lucky lady?’

  He glanced around to see if anybody was listening, then leaned forward conspiratorially, as if to divulge some deep secret. ‘Your stepsister,’ he whispered.

  ‘Clover?’ Ramona’s expression changed and she paused while she took stock of this vital news. ‘She never said.’

  ‘Would you do me a favour and let her know I’m here?’

  Stunned, Ramona left the taproom. In a few seconds she returned, her demeanour unusually aloof. ‘She’ll be a minute or two yet. D’you want a drink while you wait?’

  ‘Not for now, thanks, Ramona. Later.’ He smiled pleasantly but Ramona did not return it. He turned around while she tended to somebody else’s needs and he nodded at those regulars he was already familiar with. ‘Lovely evening,’ he said to somebody. He scrutinised the ends of his fingers and nervously creased the flap of the brown envelope he was holding that contained the photographs of Ned’s triumph. He wondered what Clover would be wearing.

  Of course, she wore the new white dress she’d bought herself. She’d piled up her dark hair in the Pompadour style that emphasised the youthful set of her head and the elegance of her neck.

  ‘You look beautiful.’

  She smiled demurely. ‘I’m glad you approve. Thank you.’

  ‘I’ve never seen you looking so lovely.’

  ‘Perhaps you can appreciate why I always hide away from you when I get in from work all grubby in my scruffy clothes. I can look decent. I’d much rather you see me looking this way.’

  He looked her up and down admiringly. ‘I’ve seen you decent before – at the wedding, if you recall. But decent is a bit of an understatement, Clover. You look delicious enough to eat. Come on, let’s go for a walk so the world can witness me at the side of somebody so lovely.’

  She smiled again and felt her colour rise at his compliments.

  ‘You don’t mind walking out, do you?’ he asked and she shook her head. ‘There might not be much opportunity to talk later. What time did Ned say he would get here with his family?’

  ‘About nine.’

  ‘That gives us an hour. Shall we head for Buffery Park? It’s a lovely evening.’

  ‘If you like. Give me a minute, though, to get my hat on.’

  She went out again and returned wearing a beautiful Leghorn hat, trimmed with field flowers. She wore it tilted slightly to one side, in the manner of the fashionable women she’d seen in pictures in newspapers. Tom said how elegantly she wore it as they stepped out of the Jolly Collier into the warm evening sunshine of George Street and she felt like a queen. They talked at first about Ned’s achievement that morning and how Amos made her laugh with his irreverence. Before they knew it they were near the hothouses of Buffery Park.

  The flowerbeds were ablaze with colourful blooms. Clover said how she wished they could have a garden at the Jolly Collier instead of the dreary brewery that overlooked and overwhelmed the rear of the pub.

  ‘Do you like living in a public house?’ Tom asked.<
br />
  ‘I don’t know any different,’ she replied, stepping over a crack in one of the paviours to avoid bringing bad luck. ‘But I like all the company we get. I see different people all the time. It’s nice getting to know lots of people.’

  ‘Yours is a decent pub, you know, Clover. It has a reputation for being a good house, as well as for the beer.’

  ‘Yes, I know. It’s because of my mother, I suppose. The way she’s always run it.’

  ‘Do you get on all right with her?’

  Clover chuckled. ‘She’s a funny woman.’

  ‘Oh? How is she funny?’

  ‘In the sense that she seldom smiles, her attitude to folk. She has some funny ideas, mostly about me, it seems. She’s not been so bad since she’s married again. Jake keeps her in check.’

  ‘What do you think of him?’

  ‘I like him. He’s very placid, very down-to-earth. He’s certainly good for my mother. Good for me, too. Before he came along I wouldn’t have been allowed to walk out with you, without somebody else with us.’

  ‘A chaperone? God, how old-fashioned.’

  ‘Like I say, she’s a funny woman – old-fashioned – a dyed-in-the-wool Victorian. But Jake’s changing all that. Ramona was always allowed to go out apparently, so now I am as well.’ She smiled with the satisfaction of having won some great privilege.

  ‘So you’ve had no chance to meet sweethearts?’

  ‘I didn’t say that,’ she answered coyly, half teasing. ‘There have been one or two boys I’ve been sweet on…’ She looked away for she found herself blushing again. ‘How about you?’ she said, diverting him. ‘How many sweethearts have you had?’

  ‘Oh, hundreds…’

  He grinned first and they both burst out laughing.

  ‘Oh, you have to be truthful, Tom,’ she said. ‘Have you really had lots of sweethearts?’

  ‘About two.’

  ‘You mean two hundred?’ she suggested mischievously.

  She loved how he laughed at that, how his eyes crinkled at the edges so deliciously.

  ‘Just two,’ he answered. ‘A girl from Sedgley who was my sweetheart for two years and a girl from Brierley Hill.’