On the same day Kay returned from London, Graham flew out to Spain to see his wife and family. Other years he had flown down to see them every chance he got, but this summer he had been reluctant to miss his meetings with Kay and so had used the exceptionally fine weather at home as an excuse to keep putting off the trip.
He was sometimes amazed that he still found Kay so desirable and was even more astonished that he had not yet made love to her. It was a new experience for him. Never before had he practised such restraint. Nor had he needed to, he wryly admitted. In the past there had always been hostesses only too ready and willing to go to bed with him. Even since going on the Transatlantic route, he had received indications that he need never go short. But somehow none of them interested him. They were all so brazen compared to his lovely Kitty.
As the jet roared down the runway, Graham wished it were possible to get a magical second chance and begin life all over again. One thing for sure, he would think twice about rushing into marriage so young. Of course he could never regret having Jeremy and Nicholas, they were what made it all bearable.
He slept until his meal tray was put before him. The hostess who served him, a sweet- faced girl with dark hair drawn back in a chignon, had flown with him on Europe. Not unlike Kay, he found himself making the comparison. He vaguely remembered taking her out on a Paris overnight and, not so vaguely, kissing her too. He smiled at her warmly but for the life of him couldn’t remember her name.
She returned his smile with interest.
‘How do you like being on the Atlantic,’ she asked as she poured his coffee, Paris obviously on her mind too.
‘It’s great!’ he enthused. ‘Takes a bit of getting used to at first but it has a lot going for it.’
‘Our loss.’
She gave him a melting glance before passing on.
Graham was amused and touched. Nora? Meg? He wished he could remember. He was given royal treatment all through the flight, complimentary drinks and a message from Jim Shannon, the captain, to come up to the cockpit. Soon they were touching down in Malaga.
Nice landing, Graham thought with professional interest as they raced smoothly forward. Then came the deafening roar as the engines went into reverse thrust. He blinked, waiting for the noise to subside. It was a dinky little plane compared to the Boeing, he thought.
At the door, Graham nodded his thanks to the hostesses, bestowing a special smile on the dark-haired one whose name still eluded him.
‘Nice flight. Thanks, sweetie,’ he said, annoyed with himself for forgetting. She gave him a lingering look. ‘Cheerio Graham, have a nice weekend.’
He thought of asking her to have a drink with him in the Hotel Delphin where the crew overnighted, and then was appalled at himself. Christ! His life was complicated enough as it was. He went down the back steps, ducking his head to avoid bumping it on the bulkhead, and got the familiar whiff of kerosene. The night air felt hot on his face. Not as stifling as New York, he decided, as he followed the straggling line of passengers across the tarmac.
‘Graham!’ Sile tucked the magazine she had been reading under her arm and proffered her cheek for his kiss.
His duty done, Graham reached for Nicholas and hugged him hard. ‘Heavens, Nicky, you’re as brown as a native.’
He turned with a laugh to Jeremy and ruffled his hair with a fond hand. ‘What a size you’ve grown,’ he exclaimed in genuine pleasure and amazement. The lad had shot up three inches since he saw him.
Sile, well-groomed and discreetly tanned, smiled up at her handsome husband, while their leggy young sons jumped excitedly about them. A strikingly good-looking family, they drew glances from people standing nearby.
Nuala, the hostess on Graham’s flight, saw them as she emerged from customs. ‘Lucky her,’ she sighed, her glance moving on past Captain Pender to take in every detail of his wife’s appearance. What gorgeous hair, she thought admiringly, like some film star. Nuala had always wondered what the pilot’s wife looked like. Now she decided that Mrs. Pender was everything she had ever imagined, and more.
A few hours later, Graham stood on the patio of the Marbella Melia Hotel, cigar in hand, enjoying the sight of the lavishly splashing fountains and the vast swimming-pool, a master of engineering, designed on two levels. For a treat, they had chosen to celebrate Graham’s first night on Iberian soil by dining in the exclusive hotel. Christy Kane was also down for a few days visiting his family and he and Jeannette had willingly agreed to join them.
After the meal the two men had lit cigars and when, in retaliation, their wives donned tinted glasses and retired in a protesting huddle, Graham had slipped out to the patio to enjoy his smoke in peace. Glancing skywards, he wondered if the weather was still fine at home and let his mind wander pleasurably over those enchanted meetings he had shared with Kay on the beach.
Graham frowned suddenly as he remembered an earlier faux pas during dinner when he had mentioned having dined in Il Bellamino’s, a new Italian night-spot in town. He and Kay had gone there one evening and had a most enjoyable time. As soon as the words were out, he had realised his mistake and tried to cover up by saying he had been there with Ben Higgins and John Brennan, both Spanish widowers for the summer like himself.
‘Would have thought old John was a bit past that kind of thing,’ sniggered Christy immediately.
‘We left as soon as we had dined,’ Graham replied shortly.
Trust Christy to try and wrong foot him, he thought, glancing uneasily at the women. In future he would have to keep a check on his tongue. Christy was becoming a right bore. He pitched his cigar-end in the flower beds and turned to go back inside. The pilot was drinking too much and watching him fumbling his glass and spilling wine during dinner, Graham had wished the meal was over. It was a pity that Christy hadn’t made it on to the Boeings but hitting the bottle wasn’t going to solve anything. And that recent stunt he had pulled at their medicals was hardly likely to endear him to his fellow pilots.
Graham gave a rueful grin, remembering how Christy had allowed his dislike for Simon Cooney to get the better of him, and slyly dropped a sugar lump in his urine specimen. A few years back Dan Tully, a well-known practical joker, had played a similar trick on Ben Higgins, and obviously Christy had been inspired by his example. He might have got away with it, if he hadn’t gone around boasting what he had done. Naturally Cooney had found out and the two of them had come to blows in the pilots’ lounge.
Graham shook his head. Christy was definitely bad news these days. Well, here’s hoping he wasn’t expecting them to come in for a drink when they got back to the apartment. Graham yawned, conscious that it had been over thirty hours since he had last seen bed. Wearily he rejoined the others, in time to hear Christy ordering another round of brandies. My God! he sighed, it would be all hours before they got back.
Later as they stood outside the hotel waiting for a taxi, Christy said meaningfully, ‘You look a bit bushed, old man.’
‘Hardly surprising,’ Graham replied, irritated by the insinuation that his weariness was due to something other than long hours of flying. ‘I only returned from New York this morning, you know.’
Christy scowled at the mention of America. ‘You Atlantic chaps give me the pip,’ he growled. ‘Always going on as if you were the only ones doing any work. Why don’t you admit how easy you have it, just pointing the bloody plane in one direction for hours? Short hops are the worst. All that taking off is a killer.’
‘We all did it,’ Graham reminded him shortly. Damn and blast! Was he trying to pick a quarrel? He walked away, searching the road for the taxi.
Christy stumbled after him, ‘All you Boeing chaps think you’re great bloody fellahs with the girls,’ he sneered. ‘The pretty hostesses just lie down and part their legs for you.’
Graham laughed uneasily, aware that Jeannette was listening. ’
‘Not so, I’m afraid.’
He was only glad Sile was out of earshot.
‘My arse!’ Christy said unpleasantly. ‘That’s not what I’ve been hearing. According to the grapevine, a certain new hostess has a mighty big yen for a sexy dark-haired captain.’
‘Oh shut up, Christy,’ Jeannette snapped, taking pity on Graham.
Really, when her husband had a few drinks he was poisonous, she thought. She yearned for the nice peaceful time she and Sile were having before he arrived, with no tension or bickering. What he was insinuating probably wasn’t true, but even if it was, it wasn’t surprising with the way Sile treated Graham. Jeannette was fond of her friend but she wasn’t blind to her faults. She sometimes thought she would cheer if Christy went and got himself a hostess. It might stop him from being so bloody-minded all the time. At least Graham was always perfectly charming, whatever he was up to.
‘The taxi is here,’ Sile announced, and stared at them curiously. ‘Whatever has you all so serious?’
Christy grinned malevolently. ‘Rumour has it that old Graham here is sending quivers through a certain new hostess. I was just wondering if there was any truth in it.’
‘And is there, dear?’ Sile asked casually, as she climbed into the taxi. She was suddenly reminded of a sentence in her sister’s letter which had intrigued her at the time. Something about seeing Graham’s car a lot near the Sanditops Hotel and hoping he wasn’t missing her too much.
Graham shrugged. ‘You know the pilots’ lounge,’ he said drily. ‘Intrigue at every glance. Comes of prolonged flying at low altitudes.’
He only meant it as a joke but he couldn’t have said anything worse in Christy’s rejected state. With a glare, the other pilot subsided into the back seat and no more was said until they bid each other a stiff goodnight at the door of the Kane’s apartment.
‘God, what a drag Christy is,’ Sile complained as Graham followed her inside, carrying a sleepy Nicky.
After the other pilot’s peevish attack, there had been no question of staying for a nightcap. They had collected their sons who had spent the evening playing cards with the Kane’s children, and gone back to their own apartment.
‘I never saw him in such an impossible mood.’ Her voice floated from the bedroom as she moved about taking off her things.
Through the half open door Graham saw her pull off her diamante top. She was wearing nothing beneath it and he got a glimpse of her breasts, white and jutting below her tan line, before he quickly kicked the door closed to prevent the boys seeing.
When he went into the bedroom shortly afterwards Sile was lying naked on top of the sheet. With a sense of surprise, he noted the red-gold fuzz between her legs. These days he was so used to Kitty’s darkness that he had forgotten just how pale and transparent his wife was there.
‘Come and throw some quivers in me,’ she invited, twisting on her elbow to face him, her breasts bunched enticingly before her.
Normally slow to initiate sex, Sile was hungry for it now, turned on by Christy’s accusation. That other women would fancy Graham was on the cards from the start of their married life, for he really was extraordinarily handsome but Sile had grown complacent about it over the years. She had beauty herself and other men had not been slow to show their appreciation.
Inflamed by jealousy at the thought of some young hostess putting her eye on her handsome husband, his good looks cut her afresh. As he dropped his shirt and pants she let her eyes run over his tanned, muscled body and saw with sly interest how she had aroused him. When he turned off the light and came towards her, she reached up possessively to pull him down to her.
‘It’s been ages,’ she complained, straining against him.
As Graham held her in his arms, he felt a certain guilt at making love to his wife, as well as a bitter self-disgust when he remembered how she had so often denied him her body. But oh God! After weeks of foreplay, it was unbelievable.