Thunderbird Two sat like a giant folly in the middle of a hollow at Foxleyheath, Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward's ancestral lands.
Her ladyship sat in the large library at the back of the manor, a glossy magazine in her hands. From here she could see the top and tail spoiler of the Thunderbird. She could also see three of her friends. Virgil was in the garden under a leaden sky, walking back and forth. In one corner of the room Tin-Tin was 'reading' a clothing catalogue, but, Lady Penelope had noted, she hadn't turned the page in the last twenty minutes. In an opposing corner Brains was scribbling in a notebook and invariably crossing out everything he wrote.
"M'lady," Parker said quietly. He was carrying a silver tea service. "Mister John for you."
"Thank you, Parker." Lady Penelope accepted the teapot and turned the ebony knob. "Lady Penelope speaking."
"Hello, Penny. I was just calling to let you know there's no news."
"I don't know whether I should say 'thank you' or offer my commiserations. What is Cyclone Sylvia doing at present?"
"She's on the move, but not so as you would notice. If Virgil tries to do anything foolish, like take off in Thunderbird Two, stop him."
"He is not doing much at the moment," Lady Penelope admitted.
"Just sketching is he?"
"No. He has ordered some supplies, but they have not arrived yet."
"So what is he doing?" John asked.
Lady Penelope pursed her lips. "We seem to have struck that language barrier that you Americans so delight in putting up. He said he was going to do what he called, 'stretch his legs and enjoy being outside in the sun after being trapped inside for so long'. I, on the other hand, would call it pacing. We're in the middle of an English winter and won't be seeing any sun until sometime in May."
"Is he humming?"
"I don't know," Lady Penelope admitted. "I'm inside enjoying the warmth of the fire."
"I'm about to give you an insight into the psyche of Virgil Tracy, Penny. If he's humming the same particular tune over and over, then you're right, he's pacing because he's worried."
"Really?" Lady Penelope looked back at the man in the garden.
"Yep," John confirmed. "The odd thing is that the only one in the family unaware that he does this is Virgil. Mention it to him and he''ll deny it."
"Do you think he's got anything to worry about?" Lady Penelope asked quietly. "Are you worried, John?"
"Me? I've given up worrying about those guys. Why should this be any different?"
"Because it's not only 'those guys' this time."
"True," John admitted. "Okay, I'll admit that I'm a little concerned. If it had been a loose connection they would have found and fixed it by now, it's been nearly 24 hours."
Parker reappeared carrying a tray of petite cakes. Lady Penelope thanked him.
"Morning tea?" John asked.
"Do excuse me, John," Lady Penelope apologised with regret. "I'm hoping it will help take everyone's minds off, ah, things."
She heard a dry chuckle. "Care to send some up to Thunderbird Five to see if it would take my mind off things?"
"I wish I could help… Chin up, dear boy. I'm sure they'll be fine."
"I hope you're right, Penny… I won't interrupt your morning tea again unless I have news. See ya."
"Goodbye, John." Lady Penelope snapped the knob back into position and replaced the teapot on the table.
"Shall H-I get Mister Virgil?" Parker asked.
"Yes, do, Parker. A good strong cup of coffee will help to warm him up. He must be freezing out there. He didn't bring a lot to wear."
"Very good, M'lady… Ah," Parker held out a piece of paper. "This h-is what the cook 'ad planned for dinner. H-I think dessert might not be exactly tactful."
Lady Penelope read through the menu. "No, I see what you mean." She crossed out 'apple pie' before returning the paper to the butler. "Tell Cook that dessert can be a surprise."
Parker nodded. Then he leant closer to his mistress, whispering in a manner that suggested that he was indulging in a conspiracy. "H-I never thought Cook's was h-as good h-as Mrs T's anyway."
"You'd better get Virgil, Parker. His coffee is getting cold and it's starting to rain."
"Yes, M'lady."
Lady Penelope turned in her chair. "Morning tea is served, Tin-Tin, Brains."
"Thank you, Lady Penelope," Tin-Tin offered her hostess a smile and dropped the catalogue onto a table as she moved closer.
"Have you found anything to interest you?" Lady Penelope enquired as she poured the young woman a cup of tea.
Tin-Tin shook her head. "I suppose I'm not in the mood for shopping at the moment."
"Come now," Lady Penelope rebuked her gently. "That's not like you. Shall I ask Parker to get the Rolls Royce out and we can go for a drive up to Bond Street? It would do you good to get out."
"No, thank you," Tin-Tin declined. "If you don't mind I'd rather stay here."
"We have the radio in the car," Lady Penelope reminded her. "John would be able to reach us should he hear something."
Tin-Tin gave a small smile and shook her head.
"And you, Brains?" Lady Penelope asked as he pulled up a chair and sat down. "What have you been working on so industriously this morning?"
"I-I've been trying to form a theory as t-to why we've lost contact with Tracy Island," he admitted.
"And have you?" Tin-Tin asked.
Brains held up the pad of scratchings. "No." He placed the pad on the arm of his chair and started scribbling again.
Lady Penelope decided against reminding him that in her house 'everything stopped for tea'.
Virgil entered the library, shaking water off his clothes. Instead of heading to an easy chair he stood with his back to the fire. "I don't want to soak your furniture, Penny," he said as he accepted a steaming cup of coffee from Parker. He sipped the hot drink with appreciation.
She waved a dismissive hand. "Don't let that worry you, dear boy. These things are so old!"
"Old enough to be valuable antiques," he reminded her. "Anyone heard from John lately?"
"Yes," Lady Penelope admitted. "But he had nothing of interest to impart."
There was silence in the room.
Parker entered again carrying some boxes. "The courier's been. Come h-and get it… ah… I mean. These h-are yours, Mister Virgil." He handed Virgil two parcels; one rectangular and flat and the other smaller but more bulky. "Miss Tin-Tin." Tin-Tin accepted her large box with thanks. "Mister Brains."
Tin-Tin opened her carton and pulled out a chunky woollen jumper, which she instantly put on. "That's better. It takes ages for me to acclimatise to English winters after spending summer on the island."
Brains hadn't opened his parcels, instead placing them under his chair. "And what have you purchased, dear boy?" Lady Penelope asked.
"A v-variety of items," he said as he peered over his glasses at her. Obviously believing that this was a sufficient explanation, he returned to his notebook.
Virgil had finally claimed a seat and was in the process of opening the bulkier of his two parcels. "Great!" he exclaimed pulling out a portable music player and some headphones. "Would you mind if I used your computer to download some tunes later, Penny?"
Brains looked up sharply, as Lady Penelope replied. "Of course, Virgil. Feel free to treat this as your home."
"Thanks."
Lady Penelope looked at Virgil's and then Brains' parcels. "I do hope you gentlemen have purchased something warm to wear as well. You did not arrive with much in the way of clothing."
"Us? Clothes?" Virgil laughed. "We men don't worry about trivial things like clothing, do we, Brains?" There was no response. "Brains?"
Brains looked up. "Sorry, V-Virgil. You were saying?"
"Never mind," Virgil sighed. "I asked Parker to leave anything that looked like it came from a clothes shop in the foyer. I'll take them up to my room later."
"H-I've taken the liberty h-of h-already doing that for you, Mister Virgil," Parker confessed.
"Thanks, Parker."
The day dragged on and the night closed in. Unlike tropical evenings where night appeared to jump out at you suddenly, English dusk was a long drawn out process, during which the occupants of the Crieghton-Ward manor finished a solemn meal and retired to their various quarters.
Up in Thunderbird Five, John was finding himself in a state of confusion. His habit was to maintain the daylight patterns of Tracy Island. Now that the only relative he could contact was on the far side of the world, he was feeling the desire to pretend that he was in that time zone. The problem was that he wasn't tired. Not only that, he didn't want to stray too far from Thunderbird Five's control room. He knew full well that he would hear anything of importance in his living quarters, but the need to learn the fate of his family made him uncomfortable at the thought of leaving the radio.
John glanced down at the blanket and pillow that he'd piled tidily beside his chair. He'd try to call Tracy Island one more time and then turn in for the night. He'd slept in that chair before when his brothers had been away on long and dangerous rescues, and had found it reasonably comfortable. He reached out to initiate contact with home…"
"Calling Thunderbird Five."
"Hi, Virgil."
"I'm just about to turn in. Have you heard anything?"
"Negative. I was going to going to try and call them again when you called."
Virgil managed a smile. "Okay. I'll let you do that. Give me a yell if you hear anything."
"You can count on it, Brother. You'll know nearly as soon as I do. You'll hear me cheering from the other side of the world."
Virgil chuckled. "Don't wake the neighbours."
John smiled. "Whatever response I get, I'll talk to you soon."
"Thanks, John. Bye."
John reached for the switch again.
"Calling Thunderbird Five."
"Evening, Tin-Tin."
"I was heading off to bed and I was wondering, have you heard anything?"
John managed to chuckle. "I've just had Virgil on the line asking the same thing. I haven't heard anything and I'm going to try once again before I turn in myself."
"Call me if you learn anything," Tin-Tin pleaded. "I miss not being able to say good night to my father."
"And I'm sure he's missing you too, Honey. Don't worry and try to get some sleep. I'll call you if I hear anything."
"Thank you, John. Good night."
"Night, Tin-Tin." Once again John reached for the switch.
Once again he was thwarted.
"Calling Thunderbird Five."
"Brains. What can I do for you?" John said, knowing it was a stupid question.
"H-Have you m-made contact?"
"Sorry, Brains. Not a word. Have you had any ideas?"
"N-No. Sorry, John, I haven't."
"Don't apologise. I haven't either."
"C-Call me if you h-hear anything."
"You can count on it. Night, Brains."
"Good night, John."
Shaking his head ruefully, John reached out…
"Calling Thunderbird Five."
"Hello, Lady Penelope. I wasn't expecting you to call."
"I was hoping you had heard something."
"Penny, if I did I would have called Virgil, Tin-Tin and Brains. And then you would have heard the cheers from the other side of that house of yours."
"I suppose you are right, John. Still, one likes to reassure oneself."
"Not a problem. Have a good night's sleep."
"You too, dear boy. I'll talk to you in the morning."
"G'night, Penny."
John made one final attempt to contact his home.
"Callin' Thunderbird Five. 'Scuse me callin', Mister John."
"Parker?"
"H-I was wonderin'…"
"I haven't heard anything, Parker. And don't worry, I was planning on letting you know when I did."
"Thank you, Sir. H-I would appreciate h-it."
"No worries."
"Good night, Sir."
"Good night, Parker."
The line went quiet.
"Finally!" John reached out to flip the switch that would send a signal to Tracy Island.
"Calling Thunderbird Five."
"Virgil! Will you leave me alone for five minutes!"
"I did! When you hadn't called back I thought that maybe you had got through and were talking to them."
"I haven't called back because I haven't had the chance to radio home. I've spoken to you, Tin-Tin, Brains, Lady Penelope, and even Parker. The only person that hasn't called me to ask if I'd heard anything is Uncle Stanton…"
The phone rang.
John groaned.
"Is it him?" Virgil asked.
John looked at caller-ID. "Yep."
"Ignore him."
"He'll only call back again after he's tried the rest of you guys. He knows he can still contact me."
"In that case, I'll leave you to deal with our beloved 'Uncle' and then you can try to call home. And then…"
"And then I'll promise to call you. I won't answer any more calls. Even if the World President gives me a buzz to see how the family is I won't answer."
"The World President?"
"It was a joke, Virgil. I haven't spoken to her, but going on my luck so far it won't be long before I do."
The phone rang again.
"Go tell him you've been talking to your Air Force Buddies, and you've got your racing manager on the other line," Virgil suggested.
"And once I've finished with those two calls I'm going to paint a picture of the ocean before I have a swim in it," John laughed. "Okay, Virg. I'll talk to you soon. But don't call me, I'll call you."
"F-A-B."
To be continued…