‘It was when you hit that updraught of air. Sansevino had got to his feet to see that Maxwell was all right. Then he lost his balance, the plane tilted and he went slithering down between the mule’s legs to the back of the fuselage. The mule was lashing about and whinnying. If he’d lain still he’d probably have been okay. But he tried to get to his feet. The mule caught him as he got up. He’s lying there now close against the rubber dinghies. He’s unconscious and it looks as though his head’s badly battered. We can’t get to him because of the mule.’
‘Well, for God’s sake don’t try and shift the mule,’ I said. ‘Wait till we’ve landed.’
‘Okay. But hurry. He looks bad.’
I was swinging in towards the Vomero now and all Naples lay below me, grey with ash, the roads out of the city blocked with traffic. ‘Go and sit down,’ I said. ‘And see that everybody’s got their safety belts fixed. We’ll be landing at Pomigliano in a few minutes now.’
He left then and I heard the connecting door to the fuselage slide to. I sat there, my hands on the controls, staring out ahead, searching for the airfield, and there was a feeling of complete calm within me. I think I knew Sansevino was dead. I felt as though a chapter of my life was closed now, as though the hand of God had been stretched out and had closed it for me. The past was dead. A new life stretched ahead. I had only to land the plane safely….
I saw Pomigliano then, a grey, flat circle like a huge arena. I thrust forward the undercarriage level. Through my side window I saw the port wheel come down into position. ‘Check that your wheel is down,’ I called to Hilda. She glanced back through her window and nodded. I circled the airport, losing height. I felt no sense of nervousness. The calmness that had come over me with the news of what had happened to Sansevino was still with me. But through that calmness I was conscious of an aching tenseness in all my muscles.
There was no aircraft on the runway or lined up for take-off. I swung away towards Vesuvius, banking for a westward run-in. Then I had the flaps down and we were coming in to land. There was little wind and the plane was quite steady. I misjudged slightly and had to come in rather steep. The grey edge of the landing ground came rushing towards me. For a moment I felt a sense of panic. Then I pulled back on the control column. The wheels slammed on the concrete. The plane lifted. Then the wheels were firm on the deck and I was braking. We stopped well short of the runway end and I taxied in towards the airport buildings. A truck came out to meet us. I stopped the engines and sat there for a moment in a sort of daze, a cold nausea sweeping over me. I think I was sick. I know I fainted for when I came to I was lying stretched out on the canvas seats in the fuselage and Hilda’s voice, very far away, was saying in Italian, ‘Nervous exhaustion, that’s all.’
After that I had only moments of half-consciousness in which I was being bumped about in a smell of disinfectant. I could feel that somebody had hold of my hand. The fingers were cool and safe and I kept trying to tell them not to hurt the mule. After that I remember nothing till I woke up in a room full of soft furnishings and the cool of blinds drawn against the daylight.
Somebody moved in the shadows and then I saw Zina bending over me.
‘Where am I?’ I asked her.