Chapter 1
Josephine Tracy or "Grandma" as she was lovingly called by her five grandsons, placed a large platter of tropical fruit in the centre of the dining table.
Nodding with satisfaction, she surveyed the starched white cloth and the fine gleaming silverware. Adding the fruit made the table bright and colourful.
"There," she said with satisfaction. "I think it will do."
Kyrano, who was busy checking all was in order for the meal, glanced over and agreed with her.
"You certainly know how to add the special touches, Mrs. Tracy."
Grandma smiled with pleasure. "You're an old flatterer, Mr. Kyrano."
But her smile faded as quickly as it had come.
"I just hope its enough to lift Jeff's mood tonight."
Kyrano acknowledged her statement. "As do we all, Mrs. Tracy."
Despite his initial effort to be positive, Kyrano failed to find the words to add anything else. Whilst he had long since moved on from the loss of his own wife, Tin-Tin's mother, it was difficult not to feel something himself at this time of year when his benefactor still struggled with the memories of his own past.
Kyrano and Jeff Tracy had been friends for many years; the friendship stemming back to Jeff's Air Force days. They'd talked for hours back then and they talked for hours now; over far too many pots of strong black coffee into the small hours of the morning. They'd also had many conversations both pre and post-International Rescue when Jeff needed reassurance that sending his sons into the danger zone was the right thing for a father to do.
They had never however, discussed Lucille, his deceased wife.
Kyrano had never made her acquaintance, not coming to reside with the Tracy family until his Tin-Tin was nine years old. But each day as he serviced his employer's private suite, he would look at the photograph Jeff kept of her on his sideboard. Sometimes it was face down. Other times it was nowhere to be found. Kyrano often felt sad when he looked at the beautiful chestnut-haired woman with the sparkling brown eyes and radiant smile, unnecessarily taken in the prime of her life.
Putting his thoughts behind him, he cleared his throat until found his voice.
"Shall I call them in, Mrs. Tracy?"
Grandma didn't hear him. She was standing at the window in a world of her own, scanning the beach where she had watched her youngest grandson and Kyrano's daughter walk less than an hour before. She had a good feeling about the future of those two kids, just as she'd had a good feeling thirty-one years ago when Jeff had introduced her to Lucille.
Although, before he did, it had been a completely different story.
When her Jefferson had admitted he was in love with a girl he'd only just met, she and her late husband Grant had nearly had a fit. These things took time, they'd argued. It was impossible to fall in love with someone in less than thirty minutes. What sort of girl was she if she was prepared to leave her parents and travel halfway across the world to move in with him? At twenty-two and the daughter of an Air Force Chief of Staff surely she had much more sense? Grant told Jefferson point blank he was struggling to understand his logic.
But then, he'd introduced Lucille Evans.
Lucy was Jeff's soulmate. Despite his high-profile career in the World Space Agency, he was a sensitive man, cautious in the public eye, and never letting himself get too close to anyone. He'd needed someone like Lucy, and from that day on Grandma felt comfortable that her son would develop to his full potential. Now, she was hoping that the same thing would happen with Alan and Tin-Tin. Alan was just like his mother and Tin-Tin was every bit as sensible as Jeff was.
Yes, she mused, things were going very well.
"Mrs Tracy?"
She was jolted out of her daydream just in time for Kyrano to repeat the question with an inquisitive look.
"Oh… yes... yes of course ... call the rabble in, Kyrano. If they're where they usually are, they'll be having a drink before dinner. "
Out on the balcony of the lounge overlooking the Pacific, Brains and Jeff Tracy relaxed in deck chairs mulling over the performance of the Firefly during the rescue. Scott and Gordon leaned against the railing, drinks in hand, taking in the conversation. Inside, Virgil tinkered softly on the piano, his dreamy brown eyes full of expression, caught up in the tune he was playing.
Everyone looked in Kyrano's direction when he opened the triple glass doors.
"Dinner is ready, Mr. Tracy."
Jeff acknowledged him with a brief thanks and swallowed what was left of his drink.
"Come on then, boys. Best not keep your grandmother waiting. Rumour is she and Kyrano have been cooking up a storm to celebrate another successful rescue. "
Jeff placed a fond arm around Brains as they went through to the dining room, continuing the conversation about the Firefly. Kyrano stood back, waiting for Scott and Gordon to follow them.
"Where is Mr. Alan?" he asked as the two brothers walked past.
"Upstairs," Scott told him.
"Don't worry about him, Kyrano. Once he smells food he'll come running," Gordon laughed.
"Who says I'd be running?"
Alan strode into the lounge pulling his International Rescue uniform over wet curls.
"Me, that's who."
"And you're not working tonight."
Scott shot a warning glance at Gordon and then at Kyrano until they both took the hint and excused themselves. He waited until he was sure they were safely in the dining room, before lowering his voice to offer Alan some advice.
"I want you to be careful what you say about the rescue, in there. Dad doesn't know everything that happened. "
Alan frowned at him, annoyed.
"I know he doesn't. " He tried to disguise his irritation with a curt nod and a swipe at his hair. "Can we go eat now? We're due to leave for the satellite in just under an hour. "
"Alan, I mean it."
"I know you do."
Jeff Tracy was pleased when his eldest and his youngest strode into the dining room, impressed Alan was already in uniform, ready to fly out.
"Has John been made aware of your preliminary ETA, son?" he asked Alan, benevolently.
Alan seated himself next to his grandmother and was rewarded with a smile and gentle squeeze to his hand.
"Yes, sir. John said he'll be ready when we are. We plan to blast-off at 1900 hours..." And then he added his usual. "... even though I keep telling you I'm more than capable of handling Thunderbird Three, myself. "
Scott rolled his eyes. He was sure the kid didn't have any sort of filter. The most vulnerable time of the year for their father and Alan wanted to argue the point about protocol and why he couldn't fly Thunderbird Three on his own. It was never going to happen and Alan already knew that.
The challenge didn't seem to bother Jeff, who was busy scanning the food on the table, ready to fill his plate. "Son, you already know my position on that. Thunderbird Three needs and will always need a co-pilot."
"But I've proven myself, Dad."
"Alan, I'm not going to discuss this now."
From the glare that followed, Alan got the message he wasn't getting anywhere, and decided it would be safer to just let the matter drop.
There was an uncomfortable silence until Jeff returned to his discussion with Brains about the Firefly. Scott relaxed and joined in, keen to add his own comments.
At the other end of the table, Gordon was watching Alan sulk after being effectively silenced by their father.
"Al," he offered in sympathy. "Look on the bright side. You had to be grateful there were at least two of us with all the drama in Thunderbird Two."
Jeff frowned; distracted mid-sentence.
"Is there something you've forgotten to tell me about the rescue today, Virgil?"
Virgil reddened, not expecting to be the target of any scrutiny. But he was the one who had made a point of asking Scott not to bring up his altercation with Alan during the debrief with their father.
"No sir," he said evenly. "It's exactly as Scott reported. During the evacuation it became necessary for me to provide verbal assistance to Alan. "
"And that's all it was, Dad," Alan said in a panic. "I'd never had to deliver a baby before."
Scott groaned to himself. They were both dreadful liars and he could tell by their father's face that he wasn't buying any of it.
"Father," he stressed, knowing he was about to be questioned himself. "There is nothing further to report."
Jeff's eyes narrowed.
"All right, I'll take you at your word," he eventually grumbled, but not before shooting a disbelieving glance in every direction.
After the meal ended, Gordon put down his cutlery and took a large sip out of his glass. "Seriously though; some of those babies were just so small. I swear some of them would have fitted into the palm of my hand. Brains, do you know if there's any kind of scientific reason for an early birth?"
Jeff looked over at Brains who began apologising for his ignorance. He started stammering that his only meaningful contribution to the discussion was to recommend which modifications should be made to the Firefly. He ended with, "I'm ...ahhh... sorry Gordon. I'm afraid my expertise does not ... ahh... extend to ahhhh... that."
"Gordon, the only scientific opinions I'm interested in are the ones that will help me fast-track the Firefly's modification, " Jeff said impatiently.
Gordon shrugged. "Fair enough."
"Alan, honey …" Grandma stepped in, not happy about where all this was headed. "... you need to hurry up and finish your dinner. You have long journey ahead of you."
"You too sweetheart, " she said, turning to Scott.
Alan was still unhappy he'd been reprimanded, murmuring he wasn't very hungry and asking to be excused. He strode past his father with a face of stone, telling Scott if he was looking for him, he'd be in Thunderbird Three. With a resigned sigh, Scott pushed back his chair to follow him.
"Thirty minutes to blast-off," he said as he left. "Destination - Thunderbird Five."
Thirty minutes after Thunderbird Three had lifted off, Jeff sat at his desk, sipping coffee laced with cognac, watching his mother drinking her nightly glass of warm milk.
She had been there for him his whole life - as a child on the farm in Kansas - when he'd enlisted in the Air Force - his career in the Space Agency and the birth of his business. She'd been there ever since Lucy died and was still by his side in International Rescue. He wondered what she'd doing right now, if things had been different, and if their lives hadn't been thrown into chaos when he was only thirty-five.
After he'd lost Lucy he'd been left to build a multi million-dollar aerospace business while trying to adjust to the fact that the most precious thing in his world had been taken away from him. It hadn't been easy dealing night and day with a newborn, a toddler, a three year old, an inconsolable five year old and his eldest, whose childhood had been taken away one month before his was nine.
Jeff remembered those first terrible months when he was trapped in the nightmare that became his life - doing what had to be done - the night feeds, walking the floor with Alan - nursing Gordon on his lap until he fell asleep exhausted, the laundry, the cleaning, the meals. The list rolled on. Then there had been the resultant cancelling of important business dealings and the final straw - his own breakdown when he'd nearly lost everything. There'd been no time to be a father, let alone a mother when he hadn't allowed himself time to grieve. f If his own mother hadn't stepped in to help, he doubted any of them would be on this island right now.
He was a lucky man; that was for sure.
But it didn't stop him feeling, as he'd felt for the past twenty years, an inner resentment as to why fate had chosen his family and his career.
His mother glanced up as he swallowed the rest of his coffee, rose from his desk and opened the door to the balcony.
"Jeff?" she queried.
"I'm sorry, my mind isn't on the job tonight, Mom."
Her eyes glistened with sympathy as the door slid closed behind him.
He'd already asked Virgil earlier to monitor Thunderbird Three's progress.
