Authors: Roumelia Lane
Gray Barrett watched the unloading of the luggage and saw that it was wheeled inside, after which he shepherded the girls in ahead of him.
All was bustle and activity. The hollow ring of people's voices, trundling trolleys and loudspeakers sounded across the vast spaces. Carol had to watch that she didn't get left behind as she swung her wide-eyed glance around.
They went to have the luggage weighed. Then the tickets had to be checked. There seemed so much to do, so many things to be taken care of, she wondered if they were ever going to be finished trailing from one point to another.
When at last it appeared that all the formalities had been taken care of, Gray Barrett went to buy a paper. Stephanie bought one of the teenage magazines which she seemed fond of. Carol couldn't get her mind to grasp at anything. Above the hum of voices in the airport lounge, which they had transferred to, she could hear the engines of the planes outside; the occasional thunder of one taking off. She wished that the noise didn't terrify her so.
She began to have distinct longings for home, for the comforting atmosphere of the family scene, where nothing went any faster than the toy handcart that her sisters tugged up and down the Common.
She sat while the others read feeling her heart pounding in a frightening way. When all at once, to the sound of a voice over the loudspeaker, everyone rose, Gray Barrett and his niece included, she had an awful feeling that her legs weren't going to hold her.
She struggled to her feet and tried to look as indifferent as everyone else in the surge towards the doors out to the plane. She stuck close to Stephanie and together with her was scooped along in the shepherding arm of Gray Barrett. Seeing that dark suit sleeve under her nose, Carol would have given anything, just then, to cling to it.
There was a terrible whining noise and the feel of rushing air as they came out to crowd down a narrow corridor which led up to the plane doors. Stewardesses with happy smiles on their faces, which soothed Carol's shredded nerves a little, were there to greet everyone who came on board.
She felt soft carpet under her feet, cool air-conditioning on her face and amidst the heads of the people in front gazed down the incredible length of the plane.
The seats were in rows of threes. She had no idea where to go. Apparently one just strolled down the aisle and pleased oneself. Eventually Gray Barrett nodded towards a row. Because she was in the lead, Carol was compelled to slide in first She had no desire to sit near the window, but she didn't see what else she could do. If she demurred and let Stephanie go in first, it meant sitting next to Gray Barrett, and she would never survive that.
While she was fighting off a slight claustrophobic feeling with the small window at the side of her and the tall seats in front, the other two settled themselves in beside her. She marvelled at the way they calmly returned to their reading. The engine of the plane was throbbing. The stewardesses were checking everything. Soon they would be leaving the ground which she gazed on lovingly now from her window. How could they
read
at a time like this?
She was shaken momentarily out of her terror by the looming figure of Gray Barrett. She had watched Stephanie fasten her seat belt and had fumbled to do the same. Now the big figure leaned in to check the firmness of it, and his niece's, before sitting back to fasten his own.
Carol gathered by this action that they were due to start out and sure enough, a second or two later the plane moved forward, its engines accelerating to an almighty roar. Her hands gripping the arms of her seat, she watched in fascinated horror as the ground started to move past the window.
She knew nothing of airport procedure; of such things as the pilot having to wait for his signals, of taxiing across the apron to reach the runway, so that she suffered a tense hang-up of three or four minutes needlessly.
She began to wonder if they were going to Italy overland. The plane sped on and on. Just when she was beginning to get a feeling of anti-climax, the ground fell away before her very eyes, her seat seemed to slope into the air, and even as she half-sneaked a look, trucks, cars, trees, houses took on a toy-like quality.
Hypnotised, she watched a wisp of cloud float past the window, then quickly she brought her gaze inside. Everyone looked so normal when she stared around. The passengers seemed to accept, almost gaily, that only the floor of the plane separated them from all that space outside. The stewardesses were tripping down the aisle and people were unfastening their seat belts. Carol pretended to fiddle with hers, but she kept it tightly fastened. She had heard that the journey would take just over two hours, and during that time she preferred to stay glued to her seat.
To the drone of engines she tried to take an interest in Stephanie's magazine raised at the side of her, but nothing registered on her glazed senses. Looking outside was worse. She had discovered that the plane's wing was just a little way along from her window, and horror of horrors, she could see all sorts of weird mechanisms working; flaps sliding in and out, wires coiling this way and that, and lights flickering on and off. It was just too awful to watch.
Rigidly she sat trailing her gaze over the air-conditioning buttons overhead, and along the seat pockets in front of her, schooling herself to look anywhere but out of the window.
Some of her sickly apprehension must have communicated itself to Stephanie, for after a while the younger girl lowered her magazine and turned to ask, her brown gaze curious, 'Are you feeling all right?'
'Oh, I will be ..." Carol's attempt at humour was strained, 'I just can't get used to being in the air.' She hid her envy of the younger girl's calm acceptance and asked, 'Doesn't flying bother you?'
Stephanie considered the question for a moment, then replied, 'I was a bit timid the first time, but I've done it so often. Now it's just like catching a bus. And much more convenient.'
Carol smiled lamely. She couldn't say she altogether agreed with that.
Halfway through the journey a light snack was served. Stephanie was very helpful in showing Carol how to pull out the stand for her tray from the back of the seat in front. Not that she could eat a thing. The resemblance of an appetite she might have been building up was snatched away when a series of bumps and dips overtook the plane. Her coffee cup shook wildly in her hand, partly because of the jarring motion, but mainly because she was scared out of her wits.
Stephanie came to her rescue again. 'It's a bit of bad weather,' she said nonchalantly, pointing out of the window. Carol cringed a look outside and saw smokelike angry black clouds speeding past the window a short distance away. Beyond them the sky was incredibly blue and the sun shone down brilliantly. As they bumped along she was told, 'I expect the pilot will try and climb above it.'
She hung on, biting her lip, sure that the flimsy plane couldn't stand all this banging about. Then braving another look out of the window she saw that they were indeed soaring up towards the sun and the smoking black clouds were now racing by below them. Soon all was smooth once again.
The incident had lasted for perhaps no more than five minutes. To Carol it had seemed like a lifetime. She felt limp and chewed up and couldn't wait to have firm ground beneath her feet again. When later a voice came over the intercom to say that they were approaching Venice, she thought she had never heard a sweeter sound in the whole of her life.
Like everyone else she bent to attend to her seat belt when the time came, although it was already securely fastened. It was just as well. She doubted whether her shaking hands would have managed the task of redoing it.
Going down, she found, was worse than coming up. The plane dropped rapidly and banked on its side to circle the airport, without a thought for her palpitating heart. Though it was a comforting sight to see the scenery below she didn't like the way they went hurtling towards it.
Dragging her gaze inside, she stared hard at the seat in front of her. Long after she thought they must come into contact with something they were still dropping... dropping. She flung a look outside again. The ground was rushing up to them. Trees, houses, fields sped by. Then with a terrific roar of the engines, the wheels hit something. It couldn't be good solid earth, could it? She opened her eyes and sure enough they were speeding smoothly along the ground.
A few minutes later Stephanie folded her magazine and tucked it away as calmly as if her uncle's car had just come to a stop. She checked around for her bits and pieces and helped Carol to unfasten her seat belt. Gray Barrett rose and tossing his paper on to his seat, led the way out.
Carol let the other two go, then tottered to her feet. She had a job to make her legs carry her to the door. The fresh air on her face made her head spin. Giddily she moved along with everyone else down the steps and across the space to the airport buildings.
The place was crowded with another plane load which had just come in. Gray Barrett turned to search her out with his impatient frown. With Stephanie he scooped her along ahead of him towards the luggage section. Carol felt her legs trembling beneath her. There was a peculiar hissing noise in her ears. The prolonged excitement of the journey, coupled with the mounting tension she had experienced during the flight, suddenly took its toll on her body.
Though she tried to walk straight she began to sway. The lights became a brilliant dazzle before her eyes. She groped desperately for somewhere to sit, for somewhere to hide away, but there was no time. There in the vast crowded space with Gray Barrett ushering her along, she fainted clean away.
C
AROL
, came round to find herself sitting on one of the wooden benches. Stephanie was holding a plastic beaker to her lips. Gray Barrett was hovering near by with his usual scowl. People were hurrying about their business. One or two eyed her with curious sympathetic glanced.
'Are you feeling better?' Stephanie asked, taking the beaker away.
'Oh, much!' Carol lied with a washed-out smile. She stood up to show that she was all right, attracting more glances with her white face.
Testily Gray Barrett said, 'It would help if you could arrange to have your fainting spells in less public places, Miss Lindley. Do you feel well enough to walk?' Carol nodded and he offered her his arm with, 'You'd better hang on to me.'
It felt odd walking arm in arm with her irate employer. She was thankful that he didn't go too fast. She was just beginning to feel the strength flowing back into her limbs.
Stephanie did most of the waiting and watching out for the luggage. When all their pieces had been retrieved from the conveyor belt a porter was called to transfer them to a taxi.
Carol discovered that they were to cross the lagoon to the Venice Lido by motor launch. When they arrived at the waterside she welcomed the fresh cool breezes on her face;. So many people like them were travelling to the Lido that all was still pandemonium. Luckily for Carol, Stephanie held her arm while Gray Barrett saw to the loading of the luggage. He managed to get a seat where there was plenty of fresh air.
The water was just like the sea, choppy and bouncy as they started out. But Carol was quickly recovering her vitality, and the realisation that she was actually here in Venice did a lot to put the shine back in her eyes. She didn't dare tax herself by looking too much at the distant sights. It was enough to feel herself being taken speedily along and to watch the spray rising from the boat.
There was no mistaking the Lido. When it appeared after they had passed several islands, it was like a long narrow strip of land set down across the mouth of the lagoon. One could hear that distant carefree hubbub of the beaches as the launch pulled in at the landing stage. The sharp salty fragrance of the open sea was heavy in one's nostrils.
Gray Barrett led the way ashore. They were met by a porter from their hotel, a nice surprise as far as Carol was concerned. The luggage was stowed away and they were driven off.
Along a busy arrow-straight road they passed dozens of hotels, all picturesque with gay sun-blinds, blossom- hanging gardens and outdoor tables.
The hotel they finally pulled into was a little different. Carol was reminded of the Victoriana of their London hotel when she saw it, although the Albany was like a rich well-to-do relative in comparison. The huge length of its exterior was a mass of delicately carved stonework which decorated the tremendous row of tall arched windows on the ground floor and the balustraded balconies immediately above. The ornate stonework also provided the bases for the smaller grillework balconies of the remaining upper floors.
The hotel was fronted by a wide terrace where tasteful black and white umbrellas shaded white filigree ironwork tables and matching chairs. Further along the terrace clusters of globe lights on tall black candelabra stands were positioned to light up the white-clothed outdoor restaurant section.
The entrance, wide and imposing, was on the corner by the black and white umbrellas. Carol walked inside along with the others. She had time to notice the elegant and sumptuous furnishings of the spacious public rooms.
After much business talk at the desk Gray Barrett turned and handed Carol a key. 'Your rooms are on the third floor,' he told her. 'You'll be taken up. Lunch is being served, so get down as soon as you can.'
Carol took the key with its heavy number plate attached and followed the porter along with Stephanie. She wondered what arrangements Gray Barrett had made for himself at the hotel. She remembered him saying he would be working in Venice, so she supposed he might well be staying in the city.
They went up in a smooth silent lift. The porter, a chunky little Italian, led the way out with their cases at the third floor. Stephanie, who had been looking quite animated since they had left the launch, now had a bored expression. Watching her as they moved along a carpeted corridor, Carol asked with a twinkle, 'Is anything wrong?'
Stephanie tossed an indifferent glance over the muted brown and gold d^cor and elegant wall furnishings and sighed, 'Trust Gray to pick somewhere like this.'