The Ways of the World Read Online Free PDF Page B

but not of, that is. More often neither. I’m here in a freelance capacity. And you?’
    ‘Visiting my father.’
    ‘Ah, you’ll be the pilot. Henry’s mentioned you. Congratulations.’
    ‘For what?’
    ‘Surviving. Not many did, did they?’
    ‘I was lucky.’
    ‘Aren’t we all? To be here in Paris, having a swell time of it, while gatherings of old men in smoke-filled committee-rooms decide the fate of the world.’
    ‘If you take a look at Travis’s passport, you’ll see he records his occupation as cynic,’ Sir Henry remarked affably. ‘Who are you with, Travis?’
    ‘Rumanians.’ Ireton glanced back over his shoulder. ‘I’d better not leave them too long. Patience isn’t one of their strengths.’ Max glanced in the same direction and saw several dramatically moustachioed men glaring towards him. ‘But we need to talk, Henry, you and I. You’ve been … elusive … recently.’
    ‘Elusive? No, no, merely busy, I assure you.’
    ‘But busy with what? That’s the question. There are quite a few people who—’ Ireton cut himself off with a strange little half-smile of self-reproval. ‘We do need to talk.’
    ‘Then we will.’ Sir Henry grinned. ‘Those Rumanians are looking restive, Travis.’
    ‘Good of you to point that out to me, Henry. Excuse me, will you?’
    As soon as Ireton was safely back on the far side of the room, Max sat down and asked his father, ‘Who’s he, exactly?’
    ‘He’s a man who talks to everybody and tells them nothing,’ Sir Henry replied. ‘He’s never been inside one of those smoke-filled committee-rooms he referred to. But he knows what’s said in them. Often word for word.’
    ‘How does he manage that?’
    ‘By persuading people like me to be indiscreet.’
    ‘You’d never be indiscreet, Pa. It’s against your nature.’
    ‘I’ll accept that as a compliment, my boy. You’re right, I’m glad to say. I’m impervious to the wiles of Travis Ireton. But he never gives up, even when he should. And now … I think this may be the moment for me to give up, before I have one cognac too many.’
    They walked back to their hotels together along the Champs-Elysées. Sir Henry puffed at a cigar and listened with occasional nods of encouragement as Max expounded his case for the air as the universal medium of transport in the future. ‘Roads and railways are old hat, Pa. One day you’ll be able to fly across the Atlantic – or round the world – as a fare-paying passenger. The war did aircraft design a big favour.’
    ‘I’m glad it achieved something, James. And that you may benefit from it.’
    ‘It’ll happen, Pa. Believe me.’
    ‘I’m sure it will. I wonder if I’ll live to see any of it come to pass, though.’
    ‘I should jolly well hope so. Why don’t you take a maiden flight with me once we have the flying school ready?’
    ‘I should like that.’
    ‘Consider yourself booked in.’
    Sir Henry pulled up and turned to his son with a smile. ‘Capital, my boy.’ He clapped Max on the shoulder. ‘Capital.’
    They parted at the door of the Majestic. Sir Henry did not look back as he went in. And it did not cross Max’s mind even as a remote possibility that he would never see his father again.

 
    MAX STEPPED OUT early from Gresscombe Place on Sunday morning to post a letter in the box at the end of the drive. He had written to Sam, explaining that he would be out of the country for a few days, but that they should be able to complete the purchase of the aircraft they had their eyes on as soon as he returned. He said nothing in the letter about the possibility that the land for their flying school might no longer be available. There was nothing to be gained by worrying Sam at this stage.
    Why he did not simply leave the letter for one of the servants to post he would have been hard-pressed to explain. But the war had taught him to bestow his trust sparingly. Self-reliance was his unspoken watchword.
    Max’s progress back up the