Chapter 11
In the morning I'm up early. I shower thoroughly, brush my hair until it gleams. I pull on figure hugging jeans and a crisp white cotton blouse. I practically flirt with myself in the mirror. I go to the kitchen. I know Mrs. Tracy will be awake and beginning to get the breakfast things ready. She smiles warmly when she sees me and says I look lovely. There's a spring in my step that's hard to conceal as I move around the kitchen.
At 7am my father turns up. He's been looking a little frail lately so I go over and give him a big hug. He beams with delight, holding me tightly. "You look beautiful today, little one," he says. I ask him about those frightful headaches he gets, where he seems to go off in a trance for hours. Happily, he has not had one for some time.
Mr. Tracy appears at 7.10. After bidding us all good morning, he picks up a cup of coffee and heads for the lounge, saying that he's going to watch the news. At 7.15, just as Mrs. Tracy is removing a tray of freshly baked bread rolls from the oven, Scott comes in. He spies the bread rolls immediately and snatches one off the tray before anyone can stop him. He stands there juggling the hot roll from hand to hand as he waits for it to cool. "I ought to put a padlock on your mouth, young man," says Mrs. Tracy sternly. No, please don't, I think with a smile, recalling what that mouth was doing to me last night.
He tears the bread roll in half and coats the warm interior with butter. I watch him eat. It's gone in seconds. There's butter on his lips and on his fingers. My mind wanders all over the place. "You'll get fat," I say cheekily.
He shrugs. "More of me to love." He wipes the butter off his hands and looks me up and down. "You're up early. And dressed, too. What's the occasion?"
"There's no occasion. I just felt like getting up. Why?" I flutter my eyelashes, hoping I look as sultry as Lady Penelope. "Do you want me to go back to bed?" It's an audacious thing to say with my father and Mrs. Tracy within earshot but it gives me a little thrill. I feel naughty.
He gives me a look that pins me down like a butterfly on a specimen tray. "I guess I'll have to get back to you on that one," he smiles. I melt. I'm no match for this man. What a feeling that gives me!
An hour later, everyone is up. Mr. Tracy is still in the lounge but the boys are all in the dining room. Scott is ploughing through a second helping of bacon and waffles with syrup. His food combinations 'gross me out'- which is a term I've picked up from Gordon, who still talks like a teenager. I've never seen someone shovel so much food down and still stay so fit. In between mouthfuls of food he swallows huge gulps of coffee as though it's going out of style. In contrast to Scott, Virgil is reading today's downloaded newspaper and eating toast with apricot jam. Admittedly there are four slices on his plate and he folds each piece in half before taking a bite, but whereas Scott looks ravenous, Virgil looks quite refined. He reads aloud from an article that says Search and Rescue Team Leader Des Arnold has been recommended for a bravery award.
"Some guys get all the luck," says Alan. He's sitting by the window eating a bacon sandwich and enjoying the morning sun.
"He says he doesn't deserve it," Virgil reads. "He says, quote, 'they ought to give it to those guys from International Rescue'."
"He's sure been singing our praises around town," Scott says with his mouth full.
Virgil continues. " 'Why did International Rescue need to be called out to a situation that could have been kept well under control if the relevant authorities had known about it earlier?' "
"Why, indeed."
"It says that the residents of that settlement are being re-housed in a new purpose-built residential area as soon as construction work is finished."
"Oh, Virgil! That's wonderful news!" I exclaim.
"I guess that's what you'd call a happy ending," says Scott.
"Yeah," agrees Gordon. "It's nice to get a bit of good news for a change." Gordon is playing with the very latest version of the PSP while a plate of half-eaten eggs and bacon sits congealing in front of him. He lifts his head as a beeping sound comes from the lounge. "I'll bet that's Lady P," he says.
It is. The boys don't seem all that bothered, so I wander through on my own, if only to see what the good Lady is wearing today. She is wearing a snug, well-tailored cream jacket, probably Chanel. Her hair and makeup are as immaculate as always. Mr. Tracy is sitting on the edge of his desk, listening intently as she speaks. "Tin Tin, go get Scott," he says. I do as he asks, and soon Scott is standing with us, holding a piece of toast that he's brought with him.
"Hello, Scott. Eating as usual, I see," Lady Penelope says sweetly.
"Doctor's orders," he replies. "Three square meals a day, and lots of little rectangular ones in between."
"Tell us what you need, Penny," says Mr. Tracy.
"Well, Jeff. I was wondering awfully if Scott wouldn't mind flying me out in Thunderbird 1 to my Ranch. It appears that a large number of refugees from one of the fire zones have moved themselves into the barn, and I don't like the thought of any of our secrets being discovered in my absence. I plan to stay until the situation is resolved- as politely as possible, of course. Parker shall follow by the normal routes, but I really would like to get there as fast as I can."
"We're not a taxi service," Scott mutters, so low under his breath that only I hear it.
"I understand what you're saying, Penny, but they could just be innocent people looking for shelter," Mr. Tracy muses.
"Jeff," Lady Penelope purrs, "you of all people must know that in our line of work, everyone unknown to us is a potential danger until proven otherwise." She ends with a sultry smile.
"Guess that's me going to Australia then," says Scott, resignedly.
Mr. Tracy and Scott decide to run checks on Thunderbird 1 before he sets off. I fetch my checklist, clipboard and my set of tools and head to the hangar. When I get there, Scott is sitting in the pilot's seat flicking switches on his console.
"Any damage?" I ask.
"Nope. Doesn't look like it."
"We'll run the proper checks anyway." It's a good enough reason for me to spend some time with him before he goes. I pick up my clipboard and start leafing through sheets of paper.
"Nice outfit, by the way."
"What? Oh...thank you."
"I like the jeans. They're a good fit."
I look up at him through my eyelashes. "Thank you."
He smiles down at me, his dimples creasing. He holds his hand out towards me. "Come up here," he says.
"Pardon?"
"Come on." He waggles his fingers.
"Are you going to trick me again?"
"No!" He laughs. "Come on, before I change my mind."
I put down my clipboard and climb up. He pulls me onto his lap. I hook my legs over the pilot's seat armrest. "I'm not going to set anything off, am I?"
"Only me," he murmurs. He strokes the hair back from my face, and then he kisses me, slowly. He tastes of coffee and maple syrup. He caresses my face and neck with the whisper of his fingertips. He undoes the top button of my blouse. He runs his finger lightly along my collarbone.
"Someone might see us," I panic.
He leans over me, presses a switch on the control panel. The door hatch slides shut. "Now they'll have to knock." He kisses my neck. He pulls the tail of my blouse out of my jeans and slips his hand underneath. His fingers trace the indentations between my ribs. I nuzzle his hair, inhaling the scent of soap and something tangy, like citrus groves warmed by the sun. "Why don't you come with me?" he murmurs.
"I can't do that," I protest.
"Why not? Just say you need a break."
"They'll suspect."
He looks me in the eye. His lips curve gently. He is hard to resist. "I want you to come with me, Tin-Tin. I want you to myself for a while."
"What will I say?"
"What I told you to say. You need a break. You'd like to see Lady Penelope. You don't often get the chance to ride in this baby. Tell Virg you've had enough of his crate- you want some speed for a change."
"Scott, I don't know. I..."
He stops me with another kiss, tangling his fingers in my hair. "All right," I stammer when we part. I have made a good show of protesting, but there's actually nothing I want more in this world right now than to be with him, wherever he's going. I clamber down from the pilot's seat, my head spinning. I pick up my clipboard but I can't concentrate. "Perhaps I'd better get Brains after all," I say shakily.