The Sound Barrier Page #2

- It was lovely. We adored it, didn't we?

- Oh, yes, rather. We adored it.

Good. Er, let's have a drink.

- What was it?

- Paperweight.

- When are you going in?

- About six months, I think.

In the meanwhile, I'm learning to fly. Dad's

got one of his ex-pilots teaching me at Hillbank.

Tiger Moth.

- Darling, how exciting. Have you gone solo yet?

- Not yet. I think I may tomorrow.

- Whisky?

- No, thank you, darling.

Not for me, thanks. No, it's too early.

- Since when have you been swigging whisky?

- I'm not at school now, Sue, I'm in the RAF.

Well, practically, anyway.

- Cheers.

- Cheers.

- Good luck tomorrow.

- Thank you.

- How many hours dual have you done?

- Rather a lot.

- Fourteen.

- Oh, that's not too bad.

I knew a fellow who did 20 before he passed.

I don't suppose his name

was Ridgefield, though.

How many hours dual did

you do before you went solo?

Tony's an exceptional case. One

of the great geniuses of the air.

Like Dad.

He went solo after only

two-and-a-half hours dual.

Really?

Would you like to know something

rather shocking? I get airsick.

- You shouldn't worry, you'll soon get over that.

- Yes?

Yes.

- What the heck is that?

- Dressing gong.

Chris, give me a quarter of an hour for

my bath and then come up and talk to me.

- I won't be a

second. - Mm-hm.

- Approve?

- Terrific.

He's just been telling me about

that do on the Gestapo prison.

You must have used a thumbscrew

to get that out of him.

I had to, practically.

It was a wonderful thing, Sue. They came in

at 50 feet and flew slap down the main street.

But of course you'll know it all.

I'll be able to shoot a line

about my new brother-in-law now.

Looks as if I'll need one.

You're a bit unhappy about

it all, aren't you, darling?

Oh, no. Not really.

Why don't you reapply for a ground job?

- What do you think Dad would say if I did that?

- Well, does it matter?

You know it does.

Anyway, I don't want to let him

down, Sue. Heaven knows I don't.

- Chris.

- Hm?

Would you let me talk to him?

No, thanks awfully, Sue. If anyone's

got to talk to him, I've got to.

As a matter of fact, I half thought

I might tackle him about it tonight.

Not about a ground job, I mean RAF ground

job, but, well, commandos or something.

- Commandos?

- I've got to show him it isn't a matter of guts.

Look, you're either born to fly or

you're not. I'm not. I'm really not.

Darling, you go downstairs and

give yourself another whisky,

then take him aside and

tell him how you feel.

- It's going to be jolly difficult.

- Well, I'll be there behind you.

Darling. I'd almost forgotten.

Come on, you two.

Here's to you both.

- To us.

- To us.

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