"So, how goes the stunt piloting?" called Alek into the telephone.
"It's always brilliant. I've nearly died a couple times this week, but there you are," replied Deryn, her voice barely audible.
"What happened?" cried Alek, his voice changing from amused to concerned in a heartbeat.
"That idiot Lindbergh keeps almost crashing into me."
Alek sighed. Charles Lindbergh, another stunt pilot, had rubbed Deryn the wrong way almost as soon as she arrived in America. He didn't discriminate against Deryn because of her gender, as some of the other pilots had. Instead, he "acts all up himself for no apparent reason," according to Deryn. After nearly a year of piloting on the circuit, Deryn had won over most of the other pilots, but not Lindbergh.
At the beginning of that year, Deryn had suddenly announced that she was taking one of Alek's "Barking Clanker machines" to America to work as a stunt pilot. Supposedly, the trip had been to advertise the aeroplanes Alek was building and selling (he couldn't just sit back and do nothing, now that the Empire had dissolved), and that Deryn was testing.
The trip hadn't gone exactly as planned. For one thing, it was only supposed to last four months. Four months had turned into six, and six into ten, until Deryn decided she couldn't possibly leave, not when she was rolling into much success.
That was the other unplanned consequence. Deryn had quickly made a name for herself, if not for Chotek Aeroplanes, on the stunt circuit. Since her departure in January 1926, she and Alek had seen each other only a handful of times. He had visited her on her birthday in a place called Chicago, then again three months later in New York City. Over Christmas, she had come home to Glasgow, and they finally become engaged. She had promised that she would only stay in America until May, and then she would come home to Europe.
Alek knew better than to try and force Deryn home before she was ready. So he had waited patiently, and now, after almost a year and a half, she was making plans to come home.
"That idiot actually makes me want to leave the circuit, he's so barking annoying! He keeps blithering on about how the almost-crashes are all my fault, because he's a bleeding…"
"Deryn, if you let that man send you home early…"
"I thought you'd like the idea of me coming home early."
"You can come home after you show him you're superior piloting skills. Just a suggestion."
"Alek, you are wonderful. That's just what I wanted you to say."
"Really?" said Alek, apprehension leaking into his voice.
"Are you… planning on staying longer?" he stammered.
He wouldn't just say, "yes" this time. This time he had to tell her that he needed her home. That she could just as easily pilot in Europe as in America. That he didn't want to wait to get married anymore. He would even bring up the expense of canceling boat tickets, if he had to.
"Don't be daft! I'm still coming home early!" she laughed.
"But your ship doesn't leave for another two months."
"I'm still leaving in about two months. Except I'll be arriving in Paris, not Liverpool."
"Paris? Most liners go to Cherbourg, not Paris. Unless you're planning on taking a river cruise up the Seine."
"I'm not taking a liner, exactly. I'm taking the Glasgow Cross."
Alek was silent for a moment. The Glasgow Cross was the name of her aeroplane.
"God's wounds, Deryn, you're planning on flying across the Atlantic."
I just couldn't imagine Deryn calmly going back to dresses and tea parties after all of her Air Service adventures, so I made her a stunt pilot, and a serious contender for the first trans-Atlantic solo flight.
Charles Lindbergh worked as a trick pilot for a short time, and he won the Orteig prize in 1927.
Anyway, please review! I tend to get frustrated with my longer fics, and usually give up halfway through, but I am resolved to finish this one!