Chapter 16: Reconciliation

Come Fly With Me

Sunday February 6^th, 2000

We were up early on Sunday morning; the alarm was set for 6:00 am since Angie wanted to get to Bankstown aerodrome by 9:00. She was wearing a light blue/grey ‘flight suit’, she had a spare one that she had loaned to Jenny.

“This is so cool!” Jenny said. “I feel like I’m really going flying in this. But it’s going to be a pain if I have to pee, I will have to take the whole suit off!”

“Do what I do,” Angie said. “Wear an adult diaper, so if you have to pee, you can just go in it.”

“My God, Angie,” Jenny exclaimed. “Are you really wearing one of those, and would you actually pee in it?”

“I am wearing one, I always wear one when I fly, and yes, I have peed in them before. As you’ll find out, once we are in the plane, there’s no way to get out of your seat and pee anywhere, I mean, there’s not even a toilet on the plane! Just don’t drink a lot before we get up in the air!”

I had already asked Angie what I should wear, she suggested something comfortable, and layers – a light woollen jumper to put on as we got in the plane, since it tended to be a bit cooler once we were up at our cruising altitude. I made sure the talisman that Baba had given me was around my neck, and the actual talisman itself was resting on the skin of my chest, right above my heart. We grabbed a light breakfast, then drive over to Bankstown Aerodrome, via Allison’s place to pick her up.

When we arrived at the Aerodrome, Angie directed me to one of the buildings, where I could park out in the front. We went inside, and she spoke to a person behind the desk, who handed her a clipboard with some forms. We all filled one of them out with our names and addresses, meanwhile she spoke with the person, confirming which plane she would be using today, the flight plan, and signed some forms.

“Right, it’s off to the flight services centre, where I lodge my flight plan,” she said. “You take this copy, Will, that shows the coordinates of each waypoint, the height we should be at, and the compass bearing for each leg. The second page is the checklist that you and I will go through once we get to our plane.”

At the flight services building, she lodged her plan with the Department of Transport flight services officer and got a copy of the weather forecast for the area, adding that to her clipboard of papers. It was then across to the plane we would be flying – a Piper Cherokee - We walked around the plane, checking all the control surfaces, the wheels and tyres, the fuel quality, looking in the engine bay, explaining what she was looking at, what problems she hopes not to find, and why each check was important. Once she was happy with the external condition of the plane, she unfastened the tie-down straps that was securing the plane to anchor points embedded in the tarmac, and then we got in; Allison and Jenny first, in the rear seats, then Angie got in, after checking the fuel tank filler caps, making sure they were secure, and finally I took my seat next to her. She showed us how to fasten our seat belts, how to put our headsets on, and where to plug them in.

“That way, we can hear each other over the noise of the engine,” she said.

Angie then pointed out all the controls and instruments to me, running through some more checks on the pre-flight check sheet. I double-checked each one, as she called out what she was doing. She checked off each item on a sheet on her clipboard, and when she was happy with everything, she turned on some of the switches on the instrument panel, and I saw some of the dials and indicators come to life. She explained how to program the navigation GPS, it was like the one we had on ‘Young Lovers’, and I went through programming each of the waypoints from the flight plan. After a few more checks, she started the engine – the propellor spun slowly, and the engine barked into life. She set the throttle at what looked like quarter-power, then studied some of the instruments before making one final check of the controls.

“Everything looks good, we’ve got full tanks of gasoline, everything seems to be reading okay. Can you call air traffic control, using our callsign, and request permission to taxi to the take off point?”

I made the call, and air traffic control gave us permission to taxi to runway, and to hold just before the start of runway 11C. Angie released the wheel brakes, increased the throttle, and we moved slowly off the grass to the taxiway. She pointed out some of the features, and then we stopped just before the runway.

“Okay, Will, let them know we are holding for clearance to take off,” she said to me.

“Piper Victor Hotel Bravo Alpha X-Ray, this is Sydney Control, squawk zero seven niner three, over,” came through the radio.

“That’s telling us to set our transponder code,” Angie said. “I’ll set that; you acknowledge.”

“Sydney Control, this is Victor Hotel Bravo Alpha X-Ray, acknowledge squawk zero seven niner three, over,” I replied, trying to sound like I knew what I was saying.

“Sydney Control, roger out.”

“Every plane flying in controlled airspace has what they call a ‘transponder’, when one of the radar signals interrogates us, our plane responds with a code number – what they called the ‘squawk code’, that identifies the radar reflection as us, and it also reports our altitude,” she explained to us. “That way, air traffic control knows where we are on their displays, our airspeed, and other stuff they need to know, mainly so we don’t run into anyone else.”

She set some rotary control dials on one of the instruments on the control panel, setting the numbers to 0 7 9 3, as we were instructed. Another radio call, and we – VH-BAX – were given clearance to take off and climb to our first waypoint in the plan. Angie took the plane to the start of the runway, and just before pushing the throttle forward, made sure we were all ready and strapped in. The plane accelerated down the runway, and at some point, Angie eased back on the yoke, the nose rose, and we were off the ground. We climbed to fifteen hundred metres, and I was amazed at how incredible the view was; I could make out roads, railway lines, shopping centres, the Parramatta River, and the harbour. Out to the right, I could see Botany Bay, and beyond that the ocean. We had a radio call from the Sydney Air Traffic Control, telling us to ‘climb to two thousand metres’, Angie told me to acknowledge.

“Sydney Control, this is Victor Hotel Bravo Alpha X-Ray, acknowledge climb to figures two thousand metres, over,” I said.

“Sydney Control, roger out,” came the reply.

“Sounding very professional there, Will,” Allison said over our headphones. “It’s almost like you’ve done this radio shit before!”

“Well, when we did the ocean racing, I would have to radio in position reports, things like that,” I said. “Plane or boat, not a lot of difference. The phonetic alphabet is the same, and radio-telephone procedure is pretty standard world-wide.”

“It sounds like that cockpit scene from that comedy movie with Leslie Nielsen, ‘Flying High’,” Jenny said. “That cracked me up, ‘And don’t call me Shirley’.”

“Have you ever seen a grown man naked?” I said, repeating one of the lines from the movie.

“I have, and I want to see you naked again!” Angie said.

We continued our course heading pretty much north towards the first waypoint, and Angie pointed out some of the instruments, explaining their purpose of each. One that intrigued me was something that looked like a curved spirit level, which Angie said was the ‘turn and bank’ indicator.

“That helps the pilot do what we call a ‘coordinated turn’,” she said. “If I want to turn the plane to the left or right – or, using correct terms, port or starboard – while it’s not the best way to turn, I can use the rudder, which is the movable surface at the rear of the tail fin. When I moved the controls, it moves from side to side, causing the plane to yaw, that is rotate left or right. It’s like the steering wheel on a car, see what I mean? I will push the rudder pedals, and can you feel how we move? That’s because the plane is not turning smoothly, but sideslipping. Look at the ball on that instrument, see how it moves from side to side?

“That’s not the best way to turn a plane, because you can feel the forces of the turn, and the rudder will turn the aircraft, but has limited effect on the direction of travel. So, what I will do is bank the plane – that is, use the ailerons, which are on the trailing edges of the wings – to roll the plane, angling the wings towards the direction of the turn. That changes the direction of the lift forces from the wings, so it’s not purely vertical, and that results into a centripetal force, which causes the body of the plane to turn. The rudder is used to compensate for the uneven drag of one aileron going up, and the other going down. If I do it correctly, you won’t even feel that we are turning. Let me show you, and watch where the ball in that bank indicator goes.”

Angie put the plane through a series of gentle ‘S’ curves, and just as she said, the ball remined in centre of the bank indicator, and I couldn’t feel any sensation of turning. I guess that’s because all the forces remained in balance. I turned my head to look at the wings, and I could see the ailerons move up and down, to bank the plane and correct the bank once the turn was established, and then at the completion of the turn, they were moved the opposite way to level the plane.

“So, how do you know how much to bank the plane?” Jenny asked.

“Experience, really,” Angie said. “It’s like when you are driving, when you are learning to drive, you really concentrate on how much to turn the steering wheel when you are getting into a turn. After a while, you just know how much to turn the wheel to make the turn smooth. Sure, having the turn and bank indicator helps, and for night flying, when you can’t see your surroundings, you have to trust the instruments, and not just ‘how you feel’. But it’s all experience, knowing the characteristics of the plane you are flying, all of that.

“Now, if I want to lose altitude, without putting the plane into a nosedive, which will increase the airspeed, I could do a series of sideslips to fine-tune my glide path to the runway during landing, which will reduce the lift from the wings, and the plane will start to lose altitude. But doing what is called a ‘coordinated turn’, where you bank the plane with the ailerons, and turn the plane with the rudder, that just takes lots of practice. I don’t know how many hours I spent getting that right when I was learning to fly, and when the instructor would say, ‘turn to port, ninety degrees’, my hand would get all clammy, and I would be really nervous. But, after time, it is now second nature, I don’t need to make a conscious decision to ‘kick in a bit of left rudder’, it just happens. You can feel how smooth it is when I get it right.”

I could understand what Angie was saying, and now the purpose for all the control surfaces started to make sense. It seemed that flying a plane was more complicated than steering a sailing boat, probably because you had three dimensions – altitude as well as heading and speed – that you had to control. I made a conscious decision to keep my hands and feet well clear of the controls – the rudder pedals at my feet, and the control yoke – so I wouldn’t interfere with what she was doing.

Another radio message came through to increase our altitude to two thousand five hundred metres, I acknowledged as before, and Angie started the climb. I could see the values change on the altimeter and the rate of climb. Angie pointed out the changes on the artificial horizon instrument, showing that the plane was climbing, but still heading straight. Before long, we had reached our first waypoint, I could look down to our right and see Tuggerah Lake, and as Angie turned to starboard, I pressed the controls on the GPS to give us navigation information to our next waypoint, over The Entrance. There, we turned slightly west of south, to fly back past Sydney. Jenny was excited to be able to see the areas around her home, just south of Gosford.

When we were over Barrenjoey, Angie headed slightly inland, so we were flying over Pittwater, and Allison and I could easily recognize the landmarks and roads.

“I think that’s my mother’s place just below us now,” Allison said. “And if you look, there’s our old high school! It’s so cool, seeing it from up here!”

Allison was right, the view from up high over Mona Vale was fascinating, I had no trouble seeing where my parent’s place was, the primary school, the shopping centre, and major buildings, plus the main roads. When we were getting closer to the entrance to Sydney Harbour we were told to turn further out to the ocean and climb another two hundred metres. This, according to Angie, would put us above the main arrival and departure flight paths from Mascot Airport. We continued sou-south-west, turning inland when we were above Wollongong, turning north-east when we passed Mittagong, and followed the line of the Hume Motorway back to Bankstown.

As we approached the aerodrome, I radioed Bankstown approach control, and we were given our landing instructions. Angie lined us on the runway, approaching the main runway from the west. We turned once we were over Warwick Farm racecourse, flew low over the George’s River, and we appeared to be lined up for the runway. Angie juggled the throttle and the yoke, our airspeed was quite low, and the plane touched down without a sudden bump or bouncing. We pulled up in the middle of the runway, and Angie taxied us back to the flying club hanger.

“Well, how was your first flight, Will?” she asked, as she shut the plane down.

“It was fantastic!” I said. “I loved being able to see everything from up high, I could identify exactly where we were, and make out places, roads, everything. When can we do it again?”

We unfastened out seat belts, took of the headsets, and once Angie had opened the door, we clambered out.

“First thing I need to do is have a pee!” Jenny said. “I’ve been holding since breakfast...”

“I’m with you,” Allison said. “I don’t know why I didn’t think that there wouldn’t be anywhere to pee on the plane, it’s not like we were in a normal jumbo jet, with bathrooms and all that! Race you to the dunnies, Jenny!”

The two girls headed back to the clubhouse and the toilets, while Angie held my hand as we walked back so she could return the paperwork.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, Will, without any drama or concerns,” she said. “Maybe next month, I’ll see if I can get the six-seater, and we can get Kaz and Megan, or Lori coming with us. We could even go further afield, maybe up to Newcastle, stop for a lunch, if you want.”

“Whatever you want, Angie, you’re the pilot,” I said. “I just wish I had done something like that years ago, instead of letting my silly fears keep me from flying. With you explaining everything to me, it made it so much more interesting, doing the radio stuff, too. Everything seems very logical, there’s a purpose for everything in the cockpit, and having you explain stuff made it really interesting. Thank you for the morning.”

“I enjoyed it, I was glad I could help you get over your fear of flying,” she said. It also helped me, because I must do a certain number of hours to keep my license current, but if I go by myself, it’s just so boring. At least I had you and the other two to talk to, and that made the time go quickly.”

We entered the clubhouse, and Angie returned the paperwork to the person at the counter and had her pilot’s log signed. The other two emerged from the ladies’ toilets and Allison suggested that we go back to her place, where we could get some take-out food for lunch. We thought that sounded like a great idea, so with everything finished at the aerodrome, it was back in the car for the drive to Lilyfield. When we got close to Allison’s place, she directed us to a pizza place, where we got a large ‘supreme’ pizza, and continued back to her place.

Kaz asked all about the flight, how it went, and what we saw; she asked me how I handled being on a plane.

“Did you have to barf in the air sick bag, Will?” she smirked.

“No, I didn’t, it was very smooth, Angie was a great pilot,” I replied. “I didn’t panic, I wasn’t scared, she had me doing so much, I didn’t have time to think about anything going wrong.”

We had our lunch, then sat around in Allison’s living room, listening to music, talking, and just kicking back. Allison asked Angie how much it would cost to learn to fly, and what the procedures were, she said that Allison should join the flying club, because as well as getting discounts on hiring planes, they had a very good flight school, and would often run events and competitions for members. It was a relaxing afternoon, I noticed that Allison and Jenny were sitting on a sofa together, while Kaz, Angie and I sat together on the other sofa.

“Next time I take a joy flight,” Angie said, “I’ll rent the larger, six-seater plane, so you can come with us, Kaz.”

“That would be cool, Angie,” Cathy said. “Tell me, how did you get into flying? What got you started?”

“An uncle of mine, my father’s younger brother, had a bunch of pharmacies in the central west of the State, he lived in Cowra, but had stores in Forbes, Young, Boorowa, Parkes, and Grenfell. So, to get around to them, he had a plane of his own, a Beechcraft Baron 58. Twin engines, six seats, and whenever I would visit him, from when I was about ten, he would take me up in it when he flew around to visit his various stores. I loved being up in the air, seeing things from above, and he would let me take the controls every so often. I was hooked! So as soon as I was old enough, I started to take lessons, and I got my private pilot’s license just before I turned twenty-one.”

“That’s so cool,” Kaz said. “If you can get a six-seater in a few weeks, where are you suggesting we go to? Just a big loop around Sydney, or something else?”

“I was thinking of going up to Cessnock, in the Hunter Valley,” Angie said. “They have their picnic races on early in March, we could fly up in the morning, the go to the races, and fly back in the late afternoon.”

“That sounds fun,” Jenny said. “How would be get from the airport to the racecourse, and will we be able to get changed into something nice for the races? I know what some of those country races are like, the women dress up in fancy outfits, complete with a ‘fascinator’ on their head.”

“I’ll call my Uncle, see if he can get a car to pick us up, and we can probably use a hotel room or something there for an hour or two,” Angie said. “Do you think Megan and Lori would be interested, too?”

“I will ask them,” I said. “So, could we get all seven of us into a plane? And the change of clothes?”

“I’ll see if I can charter a Beechcraft Baron, that will be big enough, and powerful enough for the seven of us,” she said. “I think there’s a club around that has one that I could charter, and I’m certified to fly that plane.”

“I think that will be a lot of fun,” Jenny said. “What about you, Allison, do you think we should really dress up for the races?”

“I know someone who makes those ‘fascinator’ hats, we can see about getting something to look elegant,” Allison said. “I’ll have to see if I have a suitable dress to wear, too. Something sexy, that can show off my body. Do you have something suitable, Jenny? There are some little boutiques around Glebe, maybe we could go one lunchtime, see if we can find something for you. What do you think? We can go one lunchtime this week, you can meet me at my office in Camperdown, it’s only a few minutes to the shops I’m thinking of.”

“I would love that!” Jenny said. “You can show me where all the trendy shops are, places that I should know about, that will be great. I’ll buy you lunch if you want.”

I smiled to myself, it seemed like Jenny and Allison were both flirting with each other, both trying to sound out the other to see what interest there might be in them starting something a bit more serious. Angie looked at me, winked and inclined her head towards Jenny and Allison, smiling. I smiled back, we both thought it was rather cute, the two of them checking each other out, as it were.

“That race weekend, Will, does that clash with when you guys are playing a gig?” Angie asked.

“No, not that I know of, we are playing the last full week of this month,” I said. “Unless you’ve heard anything different, Allison?”

Eventually, it was time for Angie, Jenny, and me to head back to our apartment, we said goodbye to Kaz and Allison, Jenny telling Allison she would see her tomorrow to go shopping. Back at our place, none of us really felt like eating much for dinner, it had been a long, exciting day, but now I was feeling tired. We watched the TV for a short period, until I excused myself, heading off to bed. I think I stirred briefly when Angie came to bed, but I slept soundly until the alarm woke me in the morning.

Aftermath of the Flight

Monday February 7^th – Tuesday February 8^th, 2000

After we had breakfast, I drove Jenny across to the office; she seemed like she wanted to ask me something but was unsure of what to say.

“Will ... a question, about Allison,” she said tentatively. “Is she, I mean, is she purely a lesbian, or is she bi? I mean, I get this feeling that she really likes me, and is wanting to take things further, I just want to know more about her.”

“I can confirm that she’s not one hundred per-cent lesbian,” I said. “Many years ago, she and I had a fling. I don’t think she has slept with a man for a long time though. The real question is, ‘what sort of relationship do you want with her?’.”

“Oh, God, Will, I have no idea about that,” she replied. “There are times when I think it would be so exciting, she’s a really smart, sexy woman, and I get this feeling that being with her would be very satisfying. She’s your age, isn’t she, Will?”

“Yeah, she’s a month or two older than me; do you think that age difference might be a problem?”

“I’m worried that as I get older, my needs will change, and things would fall apart,” she said. “How can I know if I’m doing the right thing? What if I don’t get involved with her, and I run the chance of missing out on what could be the greatest love of my life?”

“Jenny, there’s no way you can get a solid guarantee for any choice you might make; the best you can hope for is to get as much information as you can, and make your decision based on that,” I said. “Now, I’m not going to advise you one way or the other, I can’t possibly know whether having a romantic relationship with Allison would be good for you or not. What I can do is give you some advice on how you can decide, and hopefully not make a bad decision.

“The first thing is for the two of you to learn as much about each other as possible; take advantage your lunch with Allison and your shopping trip to talk about her. Find out what her plans for her future might involve, what things does she like, what are her pet hates, everything like that. The more you know about each other, the less the chance of discovering something that ends up being a deal-breaker, at a time when you are already deeply emotionally committed to each other.

“Secondly, once you feel things are progressing, make sure each of your expectations for the relationship match. Look at you, Angie, and me, we all knew there was nothing serious, nothing long term. You wanted someone to have your first sexual encounter with, and things developed from there. We have all been very happy with the relationship that we had, and we knew what it was going to be right from the start. I wasn’t going to expect you to be the forever love of my life, you weren’t planning on living with Angie and I for years and years. Because we were all in agreement, our expectations lined up, none of us are going to get hurt.

“Maybe that’s not the answers you were expecting or wanting from me, but I can’t know if being with Allison is the right decision or not for you.”

“No, that’s all good advice,” she said. “And it answers another question, whether you and Angie would be upset if I started being with Allison. You’ve both been so good to me, given me a place to stay, and everything you’ve done, I don’t want to seem like I’m being ungrateful or anything. I think tomorrow I’ll see if I can take a long lunch, and meet her, do some shopping, and talk with her over lunch.”

“What is important is not to rush into something without taking the time to learn about the other person, and to make sure they know all about you,” I said. “Taking that additional time, talking to her, learning about her life, it’s not wasted effort.”

I pulled into my parking space, and we took the elevator up to our floor.

“Thanks for your advice, Will,” she said. “No matter what happens with Allison, you will always have a special place in my heart.”

Since there was no one else around, I gave her a quick kiss at my office door, and I went in to start the day’s work, while Jenny went into the main work area to her cubicle. At my desk, I fired up my computer, and while it was starting up, I rifled through the documents on my desk. Nothing needed my immediate attention, so I checked my diary for the week; I would be over at Filmation the next few mornings, finishing off the audio dubbing for the ‘Welcome to my State’ series of videos. I had an appointment with Doctor Sleigh tomorrow afternoon, the settlement on the Sedgebrook Terraces on Friday 18th, and rehearsals every evening this week. That was one big advantage about the old house at Lane Cove with the attached studio, it was so easy to practice and rehearse. At the moment, I would have to drive the relatively short distance over to Megan’s place; while that wasn’t far, it meant getting into the car, driving through the centre of the city, and once we had finished, driving home again.

There was an email from Michelle, she was still having a great time at Noosa, and told me (teased me, more likely) that she was now tanned all over her body (yes, even there, she added), but was looking forward to getting back in a week’s time. She inferred that she had met a string of young, single men, and most nights she wouldn’t sleep alone. She certainly seemed to be having a great, relaxing time; I was rather envious of her, thinking how enjoyable it would be to be able to spend some time up there, enjoying the beach, lying in the sun. Not that I was unhappy about the things I was doing at the moment, the video sessions for Sue, the rehearsing, and preparing for the next set of gigs and the album were very satisfying.

With nothing that I had to attend to right away, I went next door to Mary Beth’s office, to get an update on the various projects. After she had told me that everything was running smoothly, she asked how the flight had gone yesterday.

“I assume you got through it without a major meltdown,” she said. “So, tell me, what was it like?”

“There was no meltdown, as you put it,” I said. “It was fascinating, Angie had me do all the radio and navigation work, plus help her with the pre-flight checks. I guess she kept me so busy, I never had time to worry. In addition, I was wearing that talisman that Baba, Alexa’s grandmother gave me; it was dedicated to some saint, Saint Naum of Preslav, and she – Baba – used it when her husband had a float plane. It must have worked for her, and it worked for me, too.”

“I’m surprised someone with your rational view of things would put any credence in things like that,” she said.

“I’ve experienced sufficient things in my life where the only explanation was some form of paranormal or god-like activity,” I said. “I’m open-minded enough to accept that there are some things that can’t be explained by science. In fact, if you automatically discount things like that, then some stuff I’ve experienced becomes impossible to explain otherwise.”

“Fair enough,” she said. “I’ll retain my own scepticism, but I know you would regularly attend church, first to that Catholic one that Lisa and Fiona went to, and wasn’t there one you attended near when you were apartment-sitting for Garry and Kate? Have you found a Church near where you and Angie are?”

“Well, we aren’t all that far from St Mark’s Anglican, but that’s not really right for me,” I said.

“Are they too formal, too stiff in their services?”

“No, their service format is semi-high church, the same as St Augustine’s Anglican at Neutral Bay,” I said. “Their doctrine is far more conservative, and aligned with a guy called Peter Jensen, who oversees Moore Theological College, and is likely to become the next Archbishop of the Sydney Diocese. He’s very socially conservative, and some of the churches follow his ideas. I’ll keep looking around, I’m sure there’s some church that I could go to that I would feel comfortable with.”

“I’ll leave all of that church politics to you,” she said. “I’ve seen enough of that, with those perverted scumbags that supported that degenerate Frank Houston. Didn’t you and Lisa have a run-in with one of her school friends who went to that church?”