High Road to China. Jon Cleary

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СКАЧАТЬ smiled. ‘I admire you, Mr Tozer. I think you are secretly very afraid, but you won’t lose face, will you? It is so important, face. That is why I want my statue returned.’

      Tozer knew not to ask how Meng had lost the statue to Chang Ching-yao in the first place; the matter of face forbade such a question. He waited while Meng fanned himself again, then the General went on:

      ‘The dog Chang came to see me, under a flag of truce, to suggest an armistice between us. We have been fighting for two years now, as you know. I welcomed him, being a man who prefers peace to war.’ He looked in the mirror again, but the sunlight coming in the window had shifted and the mirror was, by some trick of refraction, momentarily just a pane of light, like a milky-white blind eye. Annoyed, he turned back to Tozer, his voice taking on a ragged edge. ‘While he was here, enjoying my hospitality, he had one of his men steal the statue he eventually sold you. How much did you pay him for it?’

      ‘Ten thousand American dollars.’

      The fan quickened its movement, like a metronome that had been angrily struck. ‘Aah! You know it is worth much more than that, don’t you? Even so, it is enough to buy him two or three aeroplanes. You know that is what he wants, don’t you? He is already recruiting foreign pilots down in Shanghai. I knew it was a dreadful day when he stole that statue. So many things have gone wrong since then. Our harvest has been poor, I’ve had four opium caravans ambushed, yesterday I learned two of my concubines have got syphilis – ’ The fan stopped abruptly, was snapped shut and pointed like a pistol at Tozer. ‘My good fortune will not return until that statue is returned, Mr Tozer. And neither will yours.’

Chapter 2

       1

      The three Bristol Fighters took off on time at noon on Tuesday. O’Malley and Weyman had worked till midnight the previous night, then left the servicing of the planes to the six mechanics Weyman had engaged. Extra tanks were fitted into the rear cockpits of two of the planes and an extra gravity-feeding tank was mounted on the upper wings of the three aircraft. Spare parts were split between O’Malley’s and Weyman’s machines to divide the weight: a spare propeller, six magnetos, vulcanizing kit for repairing burst tyres, an extra-strong lifting jack. When the mechanics fitted the Vickers and Lewis guns they asked questions, but George Weyman told them to mind their own business. Just before take-off he turned up with four boxes of ammunition.

      ‘All we can afford to carry. We’re right on our weight maximum.’

      ‘Have you filled the tanks?’ O’Malley asked.

      ‘Right to the brim. Three and eightpence a gallon – I’m glad our lady friend is paying and not us. It’ll be a pleasure to get away from inflation. How did she handle the machine when you took her up this morning?’

      O’Malley had taken Eve Tozer up on a test flight to see how she could handle the Bristol. He had warned her that it had its peculiarities: an inadequate rudder, ailerons that were inclined to be heavy, a tendency for the elevators to be spongy at low speeds; and when he had got into the passenger’s cockpit behind her he had wondered if perhaps they might not get further than Purley, just over the ridge at the end of the aerodrome. He had fitted the Gosport tubes into the earpieces in his flying helmet, picked up the speaking tube and wished Eve good luck, then sat back rigidly in his seat and waited for possible disaster. Like so many pilots he was a bad passenger. However …

      ‘You’d have thought she’d been flying Brisfits all her life. She’s a natural, George.’

      ‘I don’t think she liked me laying down the law about how much baggage she could take with her. That Chink maid who came down with her must have thought she was going in a Zeppelin. She’d packed four suitcases for her.’

      Henty, Sun Nan and Eve came across from the Rolls-Royce, where Anna, the maid, stood with the three suitcases that had been refused by Weyman. Eve and Sun were dressed in brand-new flying suits and both wore helmets; Eve carried the lacquered wooden box, now wrapped in hessian, under her arm and Sun carried his bowler hat under his. Eve looked pale but determined and Sun looked pale and scared.

      ‘Mr Sun tells me he has never flown before,’ Eve said.

      ‘Glad to hear it,’ said Weyman. ‘We could run into rough weather all the way across France.’

      ‘Mr Weyman, we had better get one thing straight before we leave. I need both you and Mr O’Malley, but I need Mr Sun much more than either of you. He refuses to tell me who his master is or where he is to be found, for fear that as soon as we take off Mr Henty will cable the authorities in Shanghai and try to have a rescue mission mounted from that end. I shouldn’t want to risk my father’s life by having such a mission look for him, but Mr Sun doesn’t trust me. So I need him to guide us to where my father is being held captive. Don’t forget that – and keep your anti-Chinese feelings to yourself. I’m paying you for your skill as a mechanic and pilot, not for your opinions on the Chinese.’

      Weyman flushed and for a moment it looked as if he was going to explode in a fury of abuse and walk away. Eve wondered if she had been too outspoken; if George Weyman did walk away it might be too late to get someone to replace him. But she could not back down; he had to understand there were other considerations that over-rode his stupid prejudices. She stared at him, painfully aware of the tightness of her jaw; her tear ducts were ready to burst, but she kept them dammed. She was determined there would be only one boss on this journey and it would be she. It was her father they were setting out to rescue and nothing was going to stop her.

      ‘Righto,’ Weyman at last said, ungraciously. ‘But don’t ask me to let him ride in the cockpit behind me. I’ll never trust the blighters.’

      Then he did turn and walk away, but Eve knew she had established who was boss. Eager to be gone before more complications arose, she went across and said goodbye to Anna, who wept, then sat down on the suitcases, like a refugee stranded with nowhere to flee to. Eve left her and went back to Henty.

      ‘Goodbye, Mr Henty. I’ll cable you whenever possible to let you know how we’re progressing.’

      ‘I have your route,’ said Henty. ‘If there is any word from your father in the meantime, I’ll send a wireless message to the British embassies. Good luck.’

      He ignored Sun Nan, passing him to shake hands with O’Malley. Then he walked back to the Rolls-Royce and stood beside it, now and again jabbing his stick into the ground, still frustrated by his helplessness. He knew China better than any of those who were about to take off, with the exception of Sun Nan, but he knew his leg would not have stood up to the journey that lay ahead. Sick at heart, envious, he watched the three planes taxi down to the end of the field.

      In the lead Bristol, O’Malley checked his instruments, looked to either side of him at the other two planes, then raised his hand. He pushed the throttle forward, set the rudder to neutral, let the plane pick up speed as it began to roll. He had always flown by the seat of his pants, knowing the exact moment when whatever had to be done should be done; but this Bristol was carrying a bigger weight load than he had ever taken into the air before and he kept an eye on the airspeed indicator. He saw it go past the 45 miles an hour when one could usually lift the machine off the ground; he let it build, 50, 55, then he gently pulled the stick back and felt, or rather sensed, the ground slip away from beneath him. As soon as he was airborne, knew he had enough power to keep climbing, he looked back. But there was no need for him to be anxious. Eve Tozer and George Weyman were climbing behind him, coming up smoothly and banking to follow СКАЧАТЬ