by
Gail Gardner
Virgil Tracy considered himself a patient man. He was kind, considerate, patient, tolerant, even-tempered, patient - he gritted his teeth. Patient, he reminded himself for what felt like the fiftieth time.
He should have been well-rested after a weeks vacation, except it was a vacation he didn't want. His father had literally thrown him off the island over a small injury. The fact that he had hid his cracked ribs hadn't sat well with Jeff Tracy. His brothers had used the opportunity to gang up on him, or so it seemed to him. Scott had just given him a withering look. Gordon took the opportunity to chide him about 'taking care of himself' an almost word for word repitition of a lecture he'd given his younger brother last month.
The resort on Vancouver Island had been small, cozy, and incredibly boring. It seemed he spent most of his time sleeping or taking solitary hikes into the wilderness. True to the weather of the Pacific Northwest it rained the whole week. He shifted a little gingerly in his seat. The ribs had mostly healed but he'd made the mistake of doing a little hang gliding yesterday. After six days of doing nothing more than enjoy nature he'd decided to do some light exercise. So, it wasn't so smart on nearly healed ribs, but it was better than watching octagenarians battling it out over cribbage or chess boards.
He was more than relieved when Penny gave him a call. It was worth enduring her light scolding, especially when she invited him to London.
"I don't know if it means anything, but my contacts have said that the Hood has been up to something. I would appreciate you looking over some of the material I've gathered..."
"I'll catch the next flight over..." Virgil said enthusiastically.
This was easier said than done. The Greater Cascade Airport had been
socked in by typical peasoup fog for the last ten hours, backing up flights
and making the airport a three ring circus.
Virgil's charm failed to even coax a seat from any of the airlines.
After three frustrating hours of standing in lines he got a seat on an
old 787 flying via Chicago, New York, Amsterdam and then to London - one
of the old milk run flights. He was also in tourist class. Virgil was no
snob, but he knew that he was in for a long flight in a chair designed
for midgets. His own 6'2" frame would be a pretzel by the time he got to
London.
The crowd waiting to board his flight looked like they would never be able to cram themselves into the plane. He winced as he noticed the young mother with the three over-active kids who were trying to climb over furniture, fish cigarette butts out of the ashtrays and ruin anyone's patience by whining constantly. There were the travellers who apparently didn't trust that their luggage would arrive with them and were festooned with carry-ons, shopping bags and other paraphenalia draped around their bodies. A small minority of first class and business passengers tried to appear like they didn't belong to the crowd. Virgil wondered idly if that is how he usually looked. He felt something tug on his leg. There was one of the kids wiping some sticky substance on his pants leg.
"Harold, you miscreant." The young mother grabbed the youngster by the seat of his pants. "Sorry." She smiled at him. He frowned back. Her smile faded.
"You should control your children better." Virgil growled.
"Oh but..." She was interrupted by a shrill scream from the little girl who was tangling with her other brother. Tucking the sticky Harold under her arm, headed determinedly towards the ever-increasing crescendo of sound. Virgil went to the restrooms to remove the sticky remains of a chocolate bar that Harold had seen fit to share with him. He fumed. People should take exams and study on how to raise children before they go and have them, especially three of them. When he came out, he found out that the flight had been called and he was at the end of a long queue of anxious and restless people.
The stewardess looked like she had already endured an eight hour flight. Her smile was forced and didn't reach her eyes as she directed him to his seat, way in the back of the plane. He was happy to note that the children were closer to the front of the plane, but noticed that they had not calmed down much. He turned his gaze away from them in hopes that the kids wouldn't claim him as familiar territory. He heard the sound of a sharp slap and a whimper. He would have turned but was nudged forwards by a young man weilding his backpack like a bulldozer. Unfortunately shoving his sore ribs into the seat back.
Luckily he was in a row with only two seats. The window seat occupant had already settled in and luckily had only one carry on tucked neatly out of the way. He sat down with a grateful sigh. His knees were only a hair's breath away from the seat in front, but that was livable. His leg brushed against the other passenger's leg, but she didn't get the hint and move over a bit. Damn, she couldn't have been more than 5' 4" and there she was hogging all the space. She was staring out into the gray mist. As if there was anything to see.
"Ladies and Gentlemen. Thank you for joining us on Flight 66 to London. We are currently 10th in line for departure. Please remain in your seats until we are airborne."
"Another wait..." She turned to look at him. It was the young mother...but the children were ten rows up whining and wailing. Short brown hair with a pert widow's peak framed a wide forehead and gray eyes with laugh lines at the corners. The nose was a bit too short and the chin too narrow. If one was to describe her it would be nondescript. Someone to forget as soon as you saw them.
"I wanna sit here." Harold was back and staring at Virgil with hostility.
"No room." Virgil said shortly. His foot brushed against the woman's foot, but it didn't budge.
"Haaarooold Westerlyyy come here right now." A shrill voice called the young man away to Virgil's relief.
They sat in the plane for a long tortured hour before taking off. Young Harold came back to bother them with regularity despite his mother's scolding. The person sitting in front of Virgil had pushed his seat back as far as it could go removing the hairsbreadth of room for Virgil's abused legs. He began to hate his seat mate. She even welcomed the advances of Harold talking to him and smiling. Food was late and like most airline food inedible. With the advances made in science you'd think that airlines could come up with decent food. He'd get just as much taste and nourishment chewing on the napkin and the plastic fork and knife. Patience he reminded himself again as he resisted the urge to stuff Harold out the emergency exit and the all too calm lady next to him.
"I want you to go and sit in your seat now, Harold. It is time for a nap." She had finally said firmly to the young admirer. Virgil watched the boy return to his seat and not return. He glared at the young woman.
"Why didn't you do that earlier." Virgil growled at her.
"He is a child." She glared at him. "I assume you are an adult."
Damn, she sounded like his father. "I expect you to be an adult." Jeff Tracy had said frostily. "Hiding injuries could put yourself and others in jeopardy."
They spent the whole 8 hours of the trip glaring at each other and not speaking unless necessary. Turbulence over the Atlantic made it impossible to even get up and stretch his legs. If it was a faint consolation to Virgil the young woman began to look as ragged as he felt as they neared London.
Despite warnings not to get up while the plane was still taxiing Virgil was gratefully out of his seat and was one of the first off the plane. He didn't see Parker or Lady Penelope, but figured that he'd see them after picking up his luggage. He stretched carefully. He felt like bent paperclip. He picked up his bag gingerly feeling the ribs protest.
He grimaced as he watched the mother, now burdened with quiet half sleeping children. His bothersome seat mate was helping her. He was almost satisfied to see her limping. He felt a twinge of conscious seeing the two women struggling, but then a porter stepped in and helped them.
His eyes brightened as he saw the unmistakeable Lady Penolope cutting a swath through the crowd. Despite the fact it was 9 p.m. she looked fresh as a daisy making Virgil feel even more scruffy. He wasn't surprised to see Parker trailing behind her.
To his amazement, Lady Penelope stopped short at his nemisis and with enthusiasm hugged her. He walked closer.
"My dear Marie," Penelope said warmly. "You should have said you were coming."
"Now Lady Penelope..." She began but laughed warmly. "I hardly knew I was coming myself. You know my work."
"Do you have a place to stay? No never mind you are coming to my place. No, no I insist. You must be tired. Parker will take your bag." She linked her arm through that of the shorter woman. As if by an after thought she turned to Virgil. "Do come along Virgil. I'll introduce you in the car."
Their eyes met in mutual horror.
"Ah Penny..."
"Lady Penny..."
Their voices came at the same time. Lady Penelope raised a fine eyebrow at the both of them. She wasn't used to people going against her wishes. "Oh do come along. You must be tired, both of you. I want my tea."
Parker grimaced as he could see the uneasiness between the two people. Virgil Tracy was one of the most unreadable of the Tracy brothers which made him a formidable poker player, but this time his feelings were easy to read. He was angry. Though he'd only met Miss Marie once before his impressions was that she had the patience of a saint, yet she was practically snarling at Virgil Tracy. "Oh Lord." He breathed. "This hain't going to be good."
Once they were settled into the spacious interior of Fab 1, Lady Penelope made her introductions.
"Marie Ryker. May I present Virgil Tracy." She beamed as they reluctantly shook hands. From the brief contact Virgil felt only cold shaking fingers. Good. She was scared of him. Yet, her steady gray-eyed gaze never wavered from his.
"How was your flight?" Penny asked innocently.
"Fine." Virgil said shortly.
"Actually, I found it quite tedious." Miss Ryker said smoothly. "Some poor mother had to cope with three children that their grandparents had seen fit to give gross amounts to sugar to before their departure. People always think they know better how to take care of children that aren't their responsibility."
"Poor little tykes." Parker said sympathetically from the front seat.
Virgil fumed silently. How dare she criticize him! What gave this snip of a woman the right?
"Are you still doing investigative work?" Penelope asked.
"No. Not for a year now." Was the quiet reply.
What was Lady Penny playing at? Surely she wasn't inviting some stranger
to her house when they had to discuss International Rescue business. Father
would expect him to do all he could to insure their confidentiality.