Night Over Water - Ken Follett [110]
“Bad?”
“In the center it’s bad, but we’ll only touch the skirt of it, I expect.” He sounded only half convinced.
Tom Luther said: “What’s it like in a storm?” He was smiling, showing his teeth, but Harry saw fear in his pale blue eyes.
“It gets a little bumpy,” Jack said.
He did not elaborate, but the engineer, Eddie, spoke up. Looking directly at Tom Luther, he said: “It’s kind of like trying to ride an unbroken horse.”
Luther blanched. Jack frowned at Eddie, plainly disapproving of his tactlessness.
The next course was turtle soup. Both stewards were serving now, Nicky and Davy. Nicky was fat and Davy was small. In Harry’s estimation they were both homosexual—or “musical,” as the Noel Coward set would say. Harry liked their informal efficiency.
The engineer seemed preoccupied. Harry studied him covertly. He did not look the sulky type: he had an open, good-natured face. In an attempt to draw him out, Harry said: “Who’s flying the plane while you’re eating dinner, Eddie?”
“The assistant engineer, Mickey Finn, is doing my job,” Eddie said. He spoke pleasantly enough, although he did not smile. “We carry a crew of nine, not counting the two stewards. All except the captain work alternate four-hour shifts. Jack and I have been on duty since we took off from Southampton at two o’clock, so we stood down at six, a few minutes ago.”
“What about the captain?” Tom Luther said worriedly. “Does he take pills to stay awake?”
“He naps when he can,” Eddie said. “He’ll probably take a long break when we pass the point of no return.”
“So we’ll be flying through the sky and the captain will be asleep?” Luther said, and his voice was a little too loud.
“Sure,” said Eddie with a grin.
Luther was looking terrified. Harry tried to steer the conversation into calmer waters. “What’s the point of no return?”
“We monitor our fuel reserves constantly. When we don’t have enough fuel to get back to Foynes, we’ve passed the point of no return.” Eddie spoke brusquely, and Harry now had no doubt the engineer was trying to scare Tom Luther.
The navigator broke in, trying to be reassuring. “Right now we have enough fuel to reach our destination or to return home.”
Luther said: “But what if you don’t have enough to get there or get back?”
Eddie leaned across the table and grinned humorlessly at Luther. “Trust me, Mr. Luther,” he said.
“It would never happen,” the navigator said hastily. “We’d turn back for Foynes before we reached that point. And for extra safety, we make the calculations based on three engines instead of four, just in case something should go wrong with one engine.”
Jack was trying to restore Luther’s confidence, but of course talk of engines going wrong only made the man more frightened. He tried to drink some soup but his hand was shaking and he spilled it on his tie.
Eddie sank back into silence, apparently satisfied. Jack tried to make small talk, and Harry did his best to help out, but there was an awkward atmosphere. Harry wondered what the hell was going on between Eddie and Luther.
The dining room filled up rapidly. The beautiful woman in the dotted dress came to sit at the next table with her blue-blazered escort. Harry had found out that their names were Diana Lovesey and Mark Alder. Margaret should dress like Mrs. Lovesey, Harry thought: she could look even better. However, Mrs. Lovesey did not look happy—in fact she looked as miserable as sin.
The service was fast and the food was good. The main course was filet mignon with asparagus hollandaise and mashed potatoes. The steak was about twice as big as would have been served in an English restaurant. Harry did not eat it all and he refused another glass of wine. He wanted to be alert. He was going to steal the Delhi Suite. The thought thrilled him but also made him apprehensive. It would be the biggest job of his career, and it could be the last, if he so chose. It could buy him that ivy-grown country house with a tennis court.
After the steak they served a salad, which surprised Harry. Salad was not often served in fancy restaurants in London,