Chapter 2

Wendy had not, of course, been privy to the discussion at director level which preceded her promotion.

"Project Icarus," Richard Bartlett told his director, "has now reached the design and development stage and I'd like to appoint two Assistant Project Managers to manage the two main components of it."

"Have you anyone in mind?"

"Yes and no. The 'Yes' is Wendy Richards."

"Bit young, isn't she?"

"She's young but she's damn good, as you would be the first to admit. Not only is she extremely bright and a first rate engineer, she is also innovative and energetic. I've watched her. She doesn't force her views on people but leads from the front with such enthusiasm and plenty of laughter that everyone goes with her."

"All right. I agreed with you but wanted to hear you say it. What about the 'No'?"

"I've nobody else of the same calibre. Norman Wilkins has all the knowledge and the qualifications but he's a bit of a stick in the mud: no real drive. I'd have to keep a close and constant eye on him to keep him up to speed."

"That's your job," said his director with a grin.

"Granted," said Richard with a smile, "but I've also got Project Pegasus which is more important and my main concern."

"OK, so what are you after?"

"I'd like to appoint Norman but tell him it is only a stop gap appointment and, in the meanwhile, trawl the rest of the organisation for someone to replace him: someone of Wendy's calibre."

"That might be wishful thinking."

"True but there's nothing like hope."

"All right. Go ahead. It may take you some time to find the person you're looking for."

It took eighteen months during which time Wendy often became frustrated with Norman Wilkins's tortoise-like pace. She was relieved when he was replaced by Adam Slee. He had lasted almost three years when his wife fell seriously ill and he had to take early retirement to look after her. There followed a six month interregnum during which Richard had to do the job. Fortunately there was a lull in Pegasus and he was able to cope. Both he and Wendy were relieved when Peter Walker was appointed.

Peter was a younger man, 35, with fire in his belly and the change in his team was remarkable. In a surprisingly short time he had brought his part of Icarus up to Wendy's. It was just as well because the two parts had become more closely related and the two of them were dependent on each other for moving their own parts forward.

Peter was a bachelor who found lodgings reasonably close by. At first he vanished most weekends to visit his girlfriend near Farnborough. Wendy gathered that they had been together for two or more years. One Monday he returned looking very down. Wendy said nothing even though her curiosity was piqued. He cheered up as the week progressed but returned the following Monday thoroughly depressed.

"Peter," said Wendy, "you've been miserable two Mondays in a row. Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head. "No thanks, Wendy. It was kind of you to ask but no."

Matters appeared to improve but a month or so later Peter was once again clearly miserable.

Wendy said nothing. She had been rebuffed once. If he wanted to tell her what the problem was he would. Until he did it was really no business of hers particularly as there was no fall off in his work and he was his usual friendly, helpful self to her.

One day, some weeks later and out of the blue he asked her whether she knew if there was a local gliding club. She did not but suggested he try the local flying club. He did and they put him onto a club some ten miles up the road. Peter was delighted.

"I'll be able to do some gliding at weekends," he said cheerfully to Wendy.

"What about your girlfriend?" asked Wendy without thinking.

"That's over."

"Oh!" She said no more.

More often than not Wendy took her lunch to work with her but occasionally went to the canteen. More often than not it was on a Monday when the twins had unexpectedly had friends in on Sunday who had eaten them out of house and home.

So it was that one Monday Peter came up to her table and asked if he could join her.

"I've joined the gliding club, passed their tests and can now go up solo," he said triumphantly.

"Wonderful but surely that was no great hurdle. I got the impression that you'd done it quite a lot."

"I have but each club has to test you despite your certificate so as to satisfy their insurance requirements."

"Ah, yes. Of course. Have you got your own glider."

"Not yet but with my generous new salary and no girlfriend to spend it on I'm looking round for one."

"Will that take a long time?"

"It shouldn't do but in the meanwhile I can always hire the club one."

"And fritter away your hard earned savings," she teased him.

He laughed. "That's one way of looking at it but actually the hire charge is pretty reasonable. In fact, renting hangar space will probably cost me more."

"So why not just go on hiring?"

"The club ones are hardly state of the art," he said.

"I can imagine."

Several weeks later he burst into her office on a Monday morning.

"Eureka!" he announced triumphantly.

"Euclid strikes again. Got what?"

Peter looked at her as though she was an idiot. "My glider, of course."

"Wonderful!" she exclaimed. "Tell me all."

"It's called a Discus and I went to see it on Saturday. It's in very good nick and I was able to try it out. The owner had a trailer and he offered to bring it over yesterday. So I came haring back and have arranged hangar space and everything."

"Well done you! I'd love to see this aircraft."

"You shall. I'll take you up in it if you like. How about next Saturday?"

"Sounds good but I'll need to check with the family. Can I let you know tomorrow?"

"Of course."

She knew there was nothing on that she would be needed for but she did not want to appear too eager. They duly went to the club on Saturday morning and, somewhat nervously, Wendy flew. She loved it: the silence, the views, the solitude and the thrill of flying. It appeared to her that Peter certainly knew what he was doing. They were airborne for the best part of two hours and both were exhilarated when they finally landed.

They went to a pub recommended by a fellow member for lunch. Peter was from Suffolk. His father was a cabinet maker and his mother a primary school teacher. They lived quite close to Lakenheath and Peter had been fascinated by the aircraft of the US Air Force. His father had been less so. "Darned noisy things," he would mutter. Nevertheless, he did nothing to lessen Peter's interest in aircraft and both parents were thrilled when Peter went to university to read aeronautical engineering. As a boy, all he had wanted to do was fly but he became so engrossed in his university course that he decided to stick with the theoretical and to take up gliding as a hobby. He had taken lessons and qualified solo while at university.

"What about you?" he asked.

"Dinghy sailing. Dad had a boat down at Poole and I learned on that. I was a qualified helmsman by the time I was nine," she said proudly. "We couldn't afford to keep it when he died but fortunately Bill, my step-father, has one too. It's been huge fun teaching the twins and they've done jolly well in junior competitions."