Fitz gave her brother a sympathetic smile. ‘Not today, but soon, I promise.’ She turned back to the bookcase.
Much as Fitz hated living in such a traditional home, both in structure and in concept, she loved the secret passageways in the building. None of which Miss Stevens knew about, having only been employed for the last twelve weeks. Their previous governess had decided that teaching the Fitz-Herbert siblings was not for her – or rather teaching Fitz wasn’t.
Fitz located the switch under the shelf and flicked it to one side. She heard the click of the locking mechanism release and then she pushed against the shelf which was, in fact, a hidden door.
‘Be careful,’ said Michael.
‘I’ll be back by supper time.’ Fitz blew her brother a kiss and slipped through the opening into the passageway, before pushing the door back in place. Originally, the passageway would have been used by servants to move around the house unseen, and indeed some staircases were still in use, but this was one of the long forgotten and unnecessary passageways. Fitz took the torch from her pocket and lit the way ahead as she quietly descended the staircase, which ran alongside the main, much grander one. On reaching the ground floor, there was a passageway to the right which took her through to the scullery. All she had to do then was nip out through the scullery door into the garden.
She had just closed the door to the staircase when Annie appeared in the scullery.
She let out a gasp. Annie was the same age as Fitz and had been at Badcombe House for about six months. Her eyes widened at the sight of Fitz in front of her and she looked fervently over her shoulder back into the kitchen.
‘Whatever are you doing, Miss Geraldine?’ she whispered. ‘Miss Stevens has been down here looking for you.’
‘Please don’t say anything, Annie,’ pleaded Fitz, putting her hands together as if in prayer. ‘I’ll be back for supper. I promise.’ She was already heading for the door to the garden. ‘Please, Annie.’
‘Oh, go on, then. Don’t say anything, mind. You’ll get me sacked.’
‘Thank you, Annie. You’re a darling.’
With that Fitz was out through the garden door and racing across the lawn towards the stables where the bicycles were kept. She jumped on the first one to hand and pedalled furiously down the drive of Badcombe House and on through the Cambridgeshire village to the airfield.
She was going to be late if she didn’t hurry.
A few minutes later, she was skidding to a halt at the entrance to the airfield. From her pocket she pulled out a compact mirror and her most favourite bright red lipstick, which she deftly applied. Make-up was frowned upon by her governess who considered it unnecessary, but to Fitz, not only was it something she loved, but it reminded her of her mother who had always worn the same shade.
Fitz cycled through the entrance of the airfield and headed towards the hangars. She could see the figure of Johnny Fisher carrying out the last inspection of the Tiger Moth biplane.
‘Ah, Fitz, there you are,’ he said, as she anchored on the brakes, coming to a halt in front of him. Although Johnny was several years older than Fitz, the two of them had struck up a firm friendship over Fitz’s love, or obsession, as her father called it, with aircraft. Johnny grinned at her. ‘I thought you weren’t going to make it.’
‘Yes, sorry about that. Old Stevens was on the war path this afternoon. Had to sneak out.’ She propped the bicycle up against the hangar. ‘But I’m here now.’
‘What are you going to do when your parents get back?’ asked Johnny, closing the bonnet to the engine and wiping his hands on a rag. ‘You’re not going to be able to sneak out then.’
‘For a start, only my father is my parent,’ replied Fitz. ‘And secondly, I’m going to be twenty-one in a few weeks’ time so technically an adult and neither he nor my stepmother can tell me what to do.’
Johnny raised an eyebrow, an amused look settling on his face. ‘Is that right?’
‘Well, put it this way, I’m not going to give up flying, for anyone,’ said Fitz, running her hand along the cloth of the biplane’s wing. ‘And I intend to make the most of my last weekof freedom.’ Although Fitz’s father had paid for her to have flying lessons after she had non-stop begged him for nearly a year, it had been on the proviso she behaved herself. By that, her father had meant not upsetting the governess or her stepmother. So far Fitz had been unsuccessful on both counts, and she rather suspected Stevens was going to complain terribly about her to her father, and with that might come a possible grounding by withdrawing funds to pay for her flying lessons. Still, when her birthday came along soon, Fitz would have access to a small trust fund her mother had left her, and she had already decided she’d use the money to stay airborne.
‘Best we get going, in that case,’ replied Johnny, picking up a flying helmet and handing it to Fitz.
Fitz quickly pulled the helmet on and connected up the headset so she could communicate with Johnny up in the air. He’d been giving her flying lessons, in between his job as a flying instructor and a commercial pilot, for the past six months.
‘Oh, look out, lads,’ came a voice from across the hangar. ‘Female pilot about.’
Fitz looked over as three aircraft mechanics wandered into the hangar. The one who had called out was Henry Simpson, who found it highly amusing to rib Fitz about her learning to fly. He never missed an opportunity to make fun of her. The other two men with him laughed.
‘Take cover!’ one of them called out.
‘I hope you’re insured, Johnny,’ said Henry as they neared. ‘I heard you both had a near miss last week.’ He was referring to an incident where the control tower had cleared Fitz for landing but hadn’t realised another plane was attempting to land at the same time, due to a misfiring engine. Fitz had caught sight of the wounded aircraft out of the corner of her eye and had pulledthe Tiger Moth she was flying up, narrowly avoiding a mid-air collision.
‘It was not a near miss,’ retorted Fitz, unable to stop herself from responding. ‘Anyway, it was the control tower that messed up.’
‘Yeah, of course it was,’ said Henry, winking at his mates who sniggered.
‘Actually, if it hadn’t been for Fitz’s quick thinking, it would have been a collision,’ said Johnny. ‘She showed a lot of skill to avoid a nasty accident. I know plenty of men who wouldn’t have used their initiative.’
