Wings. Part 21

'There was never any danger of that, I can't have children." He hadn't told her that either. He had let her think that it was an option, that they would have them one day, when she was ready. She couldn't believe how totally he'd misled her, and how willing he was now to admit it. He had shown his hand to her completely. But he didn't care. All he wanted from her was the tour; he knew that he could sue her, and destroy her publicly if she didn't do it. The stupid thing was that she didn't care what he did to her. All she cared about was that he had lied to her. He had asked her to marry him, told her he loved her, pretended he cared about her. He didn't care about anything except his tour, and the planes he would sell as a result. And the publicity he would derive from organizing it from start to finish.

"What do you want from me?" She looked at him sadly.

"I want you to fly. That's all I ever wanted from you. I want you to fly. And I want everyone to fall in love with you. Whether or not I did was never important."

"It was important to me," she said with tears in her eyes. She had truly believed him.

"You're very young, Ca.s.sie," he said quietly. "One day you'll be happy you did this."

"You didn't have to marry me to make me fly the tour. I'd have done it anyway."

"It wouldn't have had the same impact on the public," he said without embarra.s.sment. His marriage to her had been totally calculated. She wondered if he had ever cared for her for a single moment. She felt totally stupid now, gullible and used. It was embarra.s.sing to think of their physical relations. Even their honeymoon had probably been a sham. And everything after that had been business anyway. He hadn't wasted much time on romance.

"You never took the tour seriously. Your postponing it now just proves that. I probably should have picked someone else, but you seemed so perfect." He looked at her as though she had cheated him and she stared at him in amazement.

"I wish you had picked someone else," she said, and meant it.

"It's too late now. For both of us. We have to go through with it. We've all gone too far now."

"We certainly have." She looked at him pointedly. Or at least he had.

He had nothing else to say to her, no apology, no regrets, no words of comfort. He just told her to be in LA. on schedule on September first, and she and Billy signed their contracts. Desmond drove back to the airport then, and an hour later he was gone. He had gotten what he'd come for, their sworn promise, and a round of publicity using Ca.s.sie again. By the following week, the entire country knew about her father's heart attack, they'd seen her cry, they sympathized completely. It only made the tour more exciting.

And at Mercy Hospital, her father was bombarded with flowers and gifts and get-well cards. They had to give them away to other patients, and then start taking the floral arrangements away in trucks, to other hospitals and churches. Ca.s.sie had never expected a response like that. But Desmond had. As usual, he had known exactly what he was doing.

He kept feeding them stories regularly, and gave interviews from L.A. about how hard Ca.s.sie was working, and what progress they had made on her plane. But interestingly, in August, one of the engineers discovered a potential flaw in one of the engines. They were doing wind tunnel trials at the California Inst.i.tute of Technology when the engine burst into flame, and it caused untold damage to her airplane. It could be repaired, the press was told, but it had been providential that the tour had been delayed and she'd had to stay home with her father. The first Ca.s.sie heard of it was when she read the newspaper to Billy, and he whistled.

"Nice, huh? How would you have liked to be peeing on your number-one engine over the Pacific?" she said with a raised eyebrow.

"Give me enough beer, and I can do great things, Captain." He grinned, and she laughed. But they were both concerned, and they spoke to the engineers several times over it. Everyone a.s.sured them that the problem had been taken care of.

It was a tough summer for her. She was still in shock over everything that had happened with Desmond. She thought of Nick a great deal, and she wanted to write to him, but she wasn't sure what to say now. In a funny way, it was hard admitting that Desmond was as bad as Nick thought he was. It made her sound so pathetic. In the end, she just wrote to him about her father, and said that the tour had been postponed, and that she'd always love him. She decided to tell him the rest later, the next time she saw him. She thought of volunteering for the RAF too, but she didn't want to think about that until after the Pacific tour. Maybe afterward, in November, she could fly over to see him. They hadn't heard from him in two months, though that wasn't unusual. The war in Europe was raging on and they could only a.s.sume he was safe since they hadn't been notified otherwise. She missed him constantly, and read everything she could about the air war in England.

Most of the fun had gone out of the tour for her. To be doing it under threat was very different from doing it for love, or as a shared project. But she knew it would be interesting anyway, and now all she wanted to do was get it over and done with. She could get on with her life then.

Her father made steady improvements after he went home. He lost some weight, he stopped smoking, and seldom drank, and he looked healthier and stronger day by day. And by the end of August, he came back to the airport. And he seemed better than ever. He was amazed at all that she and Billy had done, and grateful to him for staying with her. But it was his daughter who had won his heart, more than ever. She was a rare and marvelous girl, he said to everyone, she had postponed the Pacific tour just for him, as though they hadn't heard it. And she had told him nothing of her problems with Desmond. Nonetheless he had sensed long since that something was bothering her, and he wondered if it it was Nick, or something else. It wasn't until the night before she left that she finally told him. was Nick, or something else. It wasn't until the night before she left that she finally told him.

"Is it Nick that's bothering you, Ca.s.s?" He knew she was haunted by the man, and he was worried about how close they had obviously still been the last time she saw him. He was sorry things hadn't worked out for them. But she couldn't have waited for him indefinitely if Nick had told her not to. Pat had tried to tell him it was a mistake, setting her free like that, but young people never listen. Not that Nick was so young anymore. He was old enough to know a thing or two. But like most men, he was foolish when it came to women. "You can't pine for him, Ca.s.sie. Not married to another man," She nodded, loath to tell him the truth. She was so ashamed of her own bad judgment. Desmond had taken her in completely.

'There's something you're not telling me, Ca.s.sandra Maureen," her father prodded her, and in the end, in spite of herself, she told him. And he was stunned at what she said. It was everything Nick had warned them of and predicted.

"He was right, Dad. Completely."

"What arc you going to do now?" He wanted to kill the man. What a rotten trick to pull on a girl like her, to exploit her so totally for his own gain and glory.

"I don't know. Fly the tour, obviously. I really do owe him that. I wouldn't back out on him, though I don't think he knows that. Ill do it. And then"- she took a breath, there weren't many choices-" we'll get divorced, I guess. I'm sure somehow he'll make it look as though I did something terrible. He'll manipulate the press somehow to his advantage. He's much more complicated than I realized. And a whole lot meaner."

"Will he give you anything?" her father wondered. He was a very rich man, and he could have paid her handsomely for her disappointment.

"I doubt it. I'll make my fee for the tour. He was going to reduce it because of the postponement, but he didn't. He considers that a major gift. I don't need more than that. I don't want anything from him. He's been generous enough." And she could live for years on the career he had helped her achieve, that was payment enough. She wanted nothing more from Desmond.

"I'm sorry, Ca.s.sie. I'm so very sorry." He was deeply distressed by what he'd heard from her, and they both agreed not to upset her mother.

"Just take care of yourself on the tour. That's all that's important now. You can sort the rest out later."

"Maybe I'll fly bombers to England when I come back, like Jackie Cochran." That June, she had copiloted a Lockheed Hudson bomber to England, proving once and for all that women could fly heavy airplanes.

"Oh be gone with you," her father rolled his eyes with a groan, "flying bombers to England. You'll give me another heart attack. I swear, you'll make me rue the day I ever took you up in an airplane. Can't you do something ordinary for a while, like answer phones somewhere, or cook, or help your mother clean house?" But he was teasing her, and she knew it. He knew there was no hope of her giving up the skies now. "Fly safely, Ca.s.s," he warned her before she left. "Be careful. Watch everything, with all your senses." He knew she was good at that. He had never seen a better pilot.

And the next morning when she left, they all cried at seeing her go, and knowing the danger of the Pacific tour. And Ca.s.sie and Billy cried right along with them. Pat and another pilot flew them to Chicago, and Billy and Ca.s.sie flew back to California commercially from there. It was pleasant actually, for a change. The Skygirls made a big fuss over her, and she and Billy sat and talked about their month of training. It had been peaceful for them, hanging out together at the airport all summer, just like the old days, only better. They were older now. They had interesting days ahead. And in spite of Desmond, Ca.s.sie was getting excited about the tour.

"What are you going to do about a place to stay when you get back to Newport Beach?" Billy asked her quietly as they flew back.

"I haven't thought of that. I don't know... I can't stay at a hotel, I guess." She suspected Desmond wouldn't like that, because of the scandal. But she couldn't imagine staying in his house with him after everything that had happened. He hadn't called her once in the past two months, and the only letters from him were from his lawyers or his office.

"You can stay with me, if you want. If anyone finds out, we can say it's for training. What do you think?" Billy offered.

"I think I'd like to," she said honestly. She had nowhere else to go now.

She went home with him that night, with some clothes she'd brought from Illinois, and some flight overalls. And she went to work with him the next day, in his old jalopy. With all the money he made, Billy still hadn't bought himself a decent car, and he didn't plan to. He loved his old Model A, even though at least half the time it never started.

"For a guy who flies the best airplanes in the sky, how can you drive a car like this?" she asked at three-thirty in the morning.

"Easy," he grinned. "I love it."

They were hard at work by the time the sun came up, and they didn't finish until late that night. They were also scheduled for a practice night flight. Ca.s.sie didn't even see Desmond until the second day, and only then because she ran into him in a hangar near his office. She was surprised to see him there, but he was giving someone a tour, and he dropped by to see her afterward. He wanted to make sure she wasn't going to say anything inappropriate to the press. And he was no nicer to her than he had been the last time she saw him.

"Where exactly is it you're staying?" He had suspected she wouldn't come back to him, and he didn't really care, as long as she kept it quiet. He had packed up all her things and put them in storage in coded boxes in one of the hangars. The only thing he didn't want was for her to create a scandal. But he also knew her well enough to know she wouldn't. She had too much integrity, too much pride. She wanted to do the Pacific tour for him, and do it right. She had no desire to do anything to hurt him.

"I'm staying with Billy," she said with a dignified look, wearing one of her old flight suits.

"Just be discreet about it," he said coldly. But he knew better than anyone that at this point even a tiff reported by the press wouldn't really hurt them.

"Obviously. I don't think anyone even suspects that I'm staying at Billy's." She had thought about calling Nancy Firestone before that, but Ca.s.sie had been embarra.s.sed to ask to stay with her and Jane. They weren't close anymore, and Billy had invited her to stay at his place. The one thing she couldn't have done was stay at a hotel. That would have wound up instantly in the papers, unless Desmond was there with her, which of course he wasn't.

Oddly enough, she ran into Nancy Firestone later that day, right after she had run into Desmond. Nancy was leaving work, and Ca.s.sie was running out to grab something to eat for herself and Billy, before coming back for a night of meetings.

"It's getting close, isn't it?" Nancy said with a smile. Everyone at Williams Aircraft was counting the days and the minutes. And Ca.s.sie looked tired and strained as she smiled and nodded. Seeing Desmond at the end of a long day hadn't done anything to lift Ca.s.sie's spirits. He was so unkind to her, so cold, it was impossible to imagine that there had ever been anything more than business between them. But at least Nancy was warmer to her than she'd been in a long time, and it was good to see her.

"It's getting very close," Ca.s.sie smiled. "How's Jane? I miss her. I haven't seen her in ages."

"She's fine." The two women stood looking at each other for a long moment, and Ca.s.sie suddenly realized that Nancy was looking at her strangely. She looked as though she wanted to say something to her, but she wasn't sure. And for an instant, Ca.s.sie wondered if she had ever done anything to offend her, if that was why Nancy had been so cool after Ca.s.sie had married Desmond. Or maybe she'd just felt awkward with Ca.s.sie's new position. The thought of it almost made Ca.s.sie smile. If that was what had bothered her, she could relax now.

"We should get together some time," Ca.s.sie said warmly, trying to be friendly in memory of old times. It was Nancy who had made her feel at home when she'd first come to Los Angeles and was so lonely.

But Nancy only looked at her now, as though she couldn't believe what Ca.s.sie was saying. "You still don't get it, Ca.s.s, do you?"

"Get what?" Ca.s.sie felt like a fool, but she had too many other things on her mind to want to play guessing games with Nancy.

"He's not what you ever thought of him. Very few people know him as he is." Ca.s.sie stiffened at the oblique mention of Desmond. She wasn't about to get lured into discussing him with Nancy. As far as anyone knew, he was still her husband.

"I don't know what you mean," Ca.s.sie said coolly, looking the other woman over. And suddenly she realized that there was a great deal more here than she'd ever seen. There was anger, and jealousy, and envy. Was Nancy in love with him? Had she been jealous of Ca.s.sie? Ca.s.sie suddenly realized how naive she'd been, about all of them. It seemed as though none of them had been what they'd pretended.

"I don't think we should be talking about Desmond," Ca.s.sie said quietly. "Unless you'd like to discuss it with him directly."

'That's a possibility," Nancy said with a supercilious smile. "I knew he wouldn't stay with you for long. It was all for show. Too bad you never figured that out, Ca.s.s." But what did she know about all of it? What had Desmond told her?

Ca.s.sie blushed as she shrugged a shoulder. "It's a little complicated for me, I guess. Where I come from, people usually get married for other reasons."

"I'm sure he was taken with you. And you might even have hung onto him if you'd played your cards right. But he doesn't like to play with kids. More than anything, Ca.s.s, I think you bored him." And then, as Ca.s.sie looked at her, she understood what she was saying. She understood all of it, and how vicious they had been to her, how rotten.

"And you don't, Nancy? Is that it?"

"It would appear not. But then again, I'm a little more mature. I play the game better than you do."

"And what game is that?" Ca.s.sie wanted to know now.

"It's a game of doing exactly what he wants, when he wants it, and exactly the way he wants it." To Ca.s.sie it sounded like a service business and not a marriage.

"Is that your contract with him? Is that how you got your house, and the college education for Janie? I always thought he was so generous. But I guess maybe there's more to it than meets the eye." This was exactly what Nick had meant. Desmond Williams had mistresses, whom he paid handsomely to be on call for him, and do whatever he wanted. For Nancy, it had meant chaperoning Ca.s.sie around. And suddenly Ca.s.sie realized how much it must have irked her. In a way, if it hadn't been so disgusting, it might almost have been funny.

"Desmond is very generous with me. But I don't have any illusions about him," Nancy said coldly, looking right at Ca.s.sie. "He's never going to many me. He's never going to get involved with me in public. But he knows I'm here for him. And he's good to me. It works out very well for both of us." But suddenly, listening to the cold simplicity of it, the calculated emptiness that allegedly met his needs, Ca.s.sie wanted to reach out and slap her: "Was he with you when he was married to me?" Ca.s.sie asked in a strangled voice, terrified by the conversation.

"Obviously. Where do you think he went at night when he wasn't working? And why do you think he wasn't sleeping with you? I told you, Ca.s.sie, he doesn't like playing games with children. And he's not as evil as you think. He didn't think there was any point sleeping with you, or misleading you more than he had to. Everything was for the tour. In some ways, Desmond is a purist."

'The b.a.s.t.a.r.d." The words escaped Ca.s.sie without any thought on her part. But as she looked at Nancy, she suddenly hated her. And him. It had all been a game. For both of them. It was all part of the Pacific tour, and the grander scheme of things, all to sell airplanes.

Marrying her had been just one small part of the plan, for publicity, and all the while he'd been sleeping with Nancy. No wonder Nancy had been so cool to her once they married. And maybe, for a little while, Nancy had even been worried. She was ten years older than Ca.s.sie, and not nearly as exciting, or as pretty.

"Weren't you just a little bit afraid he might fall for me?" Ca.s.sie eyed her carefully, and was pleased to see the older woman squirm at the question.

"Not really. We talked about it. You're really not his type, Ca.s.s."

"Actually, given everything I know, I'd say that's a compliment." Ca.s.sie looked at her coolly. And then she decided to deliver a small blow to the opponent. "You're not alone, you know. You're not the only one with an arrangement with Desmond." She said it very confidently, and it was easy to see that she had made Nancy more than a little nervous. Her livelihood and her future depended on her "arrangement" with Desmond.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

'There are others like you... with houses... with contracts... with arrangements... Desmond's not a man to be satisfied with one woman." Ca.s.sie was rewarded with a look of terror.

'That's ridiculous. Who told you that?"

"Someone who knows. He told me that there are quite a number of others. You know, kind of like a little compet.i.tion."

"I don't believe you." But her words reeked of bravado.

"I didn't believe any of it, Nancy. I do now though. Nice to see you," she smiled. "Say h.e.l.lo to Desmond." And with that, she hurried back into the building. She didn't want anything to eat anymore. Nancy Firestone had ruined her appet.i.te. She felt sick when she went back to find Billy in the hangar.

"Where's my dinner?" They both had to be in a meeting in less than half an hour, and he was starving.

"I ate it on the way back," she quipped, but she was looking deathly pale. He noticed it immediately and was worried.

"You okay, Ca.s.s? You look like you've seen a ghost. Did someone call about your dad?"

"No, he's okay. I talked to my mother this morning."

"So what happened?" She hesitated for a long moment, and then sat down in a chair, and told him about Nancy Firestone, and everything she'd told her.

'That sonofab.i.t.c.h," he commented through tightened lips. "He really plays quite a game, doesn't he? Too bad he has to go around ruining other people's lives. It would be nice if he stuck to his own kind."

"I guess he does, at least some of the time." Nancy Firestone had certainly not been the friend she'd thought her. "All I want to do after the tour is leave LA, and go home for a while. I think I've about done it here. This is a little racy for me." She looked drained as she looked up at him and he nodded. He felt sorry for her, she didn't deserve this.

And for Ca.s.sie, it explained why they never made love anymore and why he'd never had any real interest in her after the honeymoon. He had just gone on seeing Nancy, and G.o.d only knew who else. Maybe she was lucky he hadn't bothered spending time in bed with her. Maybe she'd have felt worse now if they had. She suspected she would have. What she felt now was betrayed, and more than a little foolish. The worst part was that she had really believed him. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

"So what do we do now?" Billy asked, worried about her. He kept wondering if, because of Desmond's betrayal of her, she would throw in the towel, with or without a contract. But she didn't do things that way. She had every intention of finis.h.i.+ng what she'd started. And Billy admired her for it.

"We finish the race, kid. That's what we came here for. The rest was all icing on the cake anyway." And (or Ca.s.sie, for a while now, the cake had been poisoned. But n.o.body had ever called Ca.s.sie O'Malley a quitter.

"Good girl." Billy gave her a hug, and took her out for a quick dinner. But she hardly touched it.

There was a press conference every week after that, and Desmond made a point of being friendly to her publicly. There was lots of bantering, some funny little stories about her, and a small show of affection. It was all very touching, if you didn't know what was really happening. And it was surprisingly believable, to anyone who didn't know them.

Ca.s.sie seemed more serious than previously, but that was easily explained by the pressures of the upcoming tour. She had an important task set before her. She was training hard, and Desmond reminded the press frequently that she had spent the entire summer taking care of her father.

"How's your dad, Ca.s.s?" one of the reporters asked her.

"He's doing great." And then she thanked America for their gifts and cards and letters. "It really helped him. He's flying again, with a co-pilot now," she said proudly. They ate it up. Just the way they ate everything Desmond had fed them. She knew the game now. And Billy marveled at how good at it she was when he watched her.

"You okay?" he asked her in an undertone after one of their press conferences. Desmond had been particularly nice to her, and Billy could see afterward that he had really upset her.

"Yeah. I'm okay," she said, but he knew how hurt she was. And how betrayed she felt. She hated the hypocrisy of it, the pure sham of it. She had nightmares at night. And once from the next room, where he slept, he heard her crying.

She never saw Desmond alone again, until the night before the Pacific tour. There had been a huge press conference that afternoon, and she and Billy had gone out for a quiet dinner at her favorite Mexican restaurant afterward.

When they got back, Desmond was waiting for them. He was sitting in his parked car, and when he got out, he let Billy know he wanted to talk to Ca.s.sie.

"I just wanted to wish you luck tomorrow. I'll see you there before you take off, but I wanted you to know that... well, I'm sorry things didn't really work out the way we planned." He was trying to be magnanimous, but the way he did it made her very angry.

"What exactly did did you plan? I was planning to have a life, and a husband and children." He was planning to have a world tour, and a mistress, and a cardboard wife he'd drag out for newsreels. you plan? I was planning to have a life, and a husband and children." He was planning to have a world tour, and a mistress, and a cardboard wife he'd drag out for newsreels.

'Then you should have married someone else, I guess. I was looking for a partners.h.i.+p. And not much more than that. This was business. But isn't that what marriage is, Ca.s.sie?" He tried to make it sound as though things just hadn't worked out, and not as though he had lied to her about everything, including being sterile. She could have lived with that, she could have lived with a lot of things, if he'd been honest with her. But they both knew he never had been.

"I don't think you have any idea what marriage is, Desmond."

"Maybe not," he said without embarra.s.sment. 'to tell you the truth, it's not something I've ever really wanted."

"So why bother? I would have flown this for you, without all the nonsense, the lies... the wedding... You didn't have to go that far. You used me," she said, relieved that she had finally had a chance to say it.

"We used each other. You're going to be the biggest star in aviation there ever was two months from now. And I put you there. In one of my planes. It's a wash, Ca.s.s. We're even." He seemed pleased with himself. It was all he wanted. She meant nothing to him. She never had. That was the hard part.