She didn’t answer and ran the tap of the bath. Take your things off, Dick,’ she said. And as I hesitated, she stamped her foot angrily and said, ‘Oh, do not be so stupid. Do you think I don’t know what a man looks like without his clothes. I have been a nurse, I tell you. Now get those filthy things off.’ I think she knew that it was my leg I didn’t want her to see, for she left the room saying she’d find me some clean clothes. She flung them in while I was getting the dirt of fin the bath. Then whilst I dressed she washed her face in the basin.
‘Now do you feel fresher?’ she asked as I did up the buttons of one of Sansevino’s shirts. She was rubbing her face with a towel and she suddenly began to laugh. ‘Please, don’t look so tragic. Look at yourself.’ She thrust a mirror in front of my face. ‘Now smile. That’s better.’ She caught hold of my arms. ‘Dick. You’re going to fly that plane out.’
I felt an obstinate dumbness welling up inside me. ‘Please, Dick — for my sake.’ She stared at me. Then her face seemed to crumple up. ‘Don’t I mean anything to you?’
I knew then what I’d known all day — knew that she meant all the world to me. ‘You know I love you,’ I murmured.
‘Then, for heaven’s sake.’ She was laughing at me through her tears. ‘How do you imagine I’m going to bear your children if I’m buried under twenty feet of lava?’
Suddenly, I don’t know quite why, we were both laughing, and I had my arms round her and was kissing her. ‘I shall be right beside you all the time,’ she said. ‘You will make it. I know you will. And if you don’t—’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘Then the end will be quick and we shall not mind.’
‘All right,’ I said. ‘I’ll have a shot at it.’ But my heart sank as I committed myself to the nightmare of trying to fly again.
CHAPTER EIGHT
My recollection of the journey down to the plane is confused and vague. My mood had changed from panic to intense excitement. It had changed the moment I’d returned to the room where Maxwell lay and Hilda had told them I’d agreed to fly them out. They had looked at me then with a new respect. From being an outcast I had become the leader. It was I who ordered them to fix up a stretcher for Maxwell, to hitch George to the cart again, to bring Tucek and Lemlin down. The sense of power gave me confidence. But with that sense of power came the realisation of the responsibility I had undertaken.
I had time to think about this as we crunched down the ash-strewn track to the vineyard. And the more I thought about it, the more appalled I became. The sudden mood of confidence seeped away, leaving me trembling and scared. It wasn’t death I was scared of. I’m certain of that. It was myself. I was afraid because I didn’t think I’d be capable of doing what I’d said I’d do. I was afraid that at the last moment I’d funk it. I was in a sweat lest when I sat in the pilot’s seat with the controls under my hands I’d lose my nerve.