20

Three days after they had found Cassie in the cave, the Lexington steamed into Pearl Harbor. She had regained consciousness once, but lost it again. She was transferred to the naval hospital by ambulance. And when she got there, Desmond was waiting for her. He had flown over from L.A, leaving Nancy Firestone to control the members of the press who were waiting for her arrival in LA.

The doctors gave Desmond a report when they first saw her, and Desmond then explained to the reporters what had happened. But they had still heard none of it from Cassie.

“Will she be all right?” they asked with tears in their eyes, and Desmond's tears matched theirs. He was obviously deeply moved by his wife's condition.

“We don't know yet.”

A little while later, he went out to see what was left of the plane, which had come in on the Lexington too, and Desmond thanked the captain for bringing her home safely, as photographers snapped their picture.

“I only wish we had found her sooner. She's a great gal. We're all rooting for her. You tell her that as soon as she can hear you.”

“I will, sir,” Desmond said, as they took another picture of him with the captain. Desmond went back to the hospital after that to wait for news and after another hour or two, they finally let him see her. She looked ravaged by everything she'd been through and she had IV tubes in both arms, one giving her medication and the other glucose. But she never stirred. And he never touched her. He simply stood staring at her, and the nurses couldn't tell what he was thinking.

Billy Nolan's body was sent back to San Francisco that day, on a flight Desmond had arranged. And funeral services were set for two days later. And in churches everywhere, people were praying for Cassie.

It was the fourth of December by then, and all over the country, people were talking about Christmas, but all the O'Malleys could think about was Cassie, comatose in Hawaii. They called Honolulu every morning and night for news of Cassie's condition. Pat wanted to fly them there, but his doctor didn't advise it. He was even thinking of calling that miserable husband of hers to lend him a plane, but he had heard he was already in Honolulu. Desmond was milking it for all the publicity he could get out of it. And on December 5, the doctor at the naval hospital called them again. Oona dreaded it now when the phone rang, and at the same time she longed for it. She was desperate for news of Cassie.

“Mrs. O'Malley?”

“Yes.” She recognized instantly the scratchy connection of long distance. ‘there's someone here who'd like to talk to you.” She thought it was Desmond, and she didn't want to talk to him, but maybe he had news for them. And then she heard Cassie. Her voice was so weak she could hardly hear her, but it was her. Oona was crying so hard she couldn't even tell Pat what was happening.

“Mama?” Cassie said softly, and her mother nodded, and then forced herself to speak through her tears as Pat understood and began to cry too.

“Cassie?… oh, baby… oh, sweetheart… we love you so much… we were so worried about you…”

“I'm okay,” she said, and ran out of steam almost immediately. The doctor took the phone from her hand, and the nurse explained that Miss O'Malley was very weak, but she was doing much better. And then Cassie insisted on having the phone back again so she could tell her mother she loved her.“… and tell Daddy…” she whispered and he could hear her anyway, as Oona shared the receiver with Pat and he cried openly as he listened,“… I love him too…” She wanted to tell them about Billy, but she didn't have the strength, and the nurse took the phone away then. And a little while later they let her see Desmond. The nurse stayed in the room with them, as Cassie needed to be watched constantly. She was so weak that sometimes she even had trouble breathing.

Desmond stood beside her bed, and looked down at her unhappily. He didn't know what to say to her, except that he was glad she had survived. It was an awkward moment for them. Everything he should have felt or said was wrong because of their circumstances, but he was relieved that she was alive. And he couldn't help wondering if she'd been careless about the plane. Or had there been some fatal flaw they hadn't known about before she left? Eventually he would need to ask her, but this wasn't the moment.

“… I'm sorry… about the plane…” she said to him with effort, and he nodded.

“You'll do it again one day,” he said confidently, but she shook her head. She hadn't even wanted to do it this time in the end. She had done it for him, because she felt she had to. It had always been his idea, his dream, his project. And in the end, she felt she owed it to him. She would never do it again, not for him, not for anyone, and not without Billy. “What happened?” he asked as the nurse looked on disapprovingly. She needed rest desperately, and no one was supposed to upset her, least of all her husband. The nurse had noticed that he hadn't even kissed her. And as he stood there, talking to her, he never touched her or went near her.

But Cassie was trying desperately to answer his question.“… first smoke, then fire in the number-two engine…” she explained painfully,”… then… fire… in the number… one… too far from land… too much gas… brought it down where I could… tiny island… hit the beach… after we got out… tremendous explosion…”

He nodded, wishing he knew what had caused the fire in the number two. But she couldn't tell him. The nurse told him then that she had exerted herself enough, and had to rest. He could come back later. He was very correct with everyone, and very well bred and polite, but he was as cold as ice, and he had never said a single kind word to Cassie. It was hard to believe he was her husband. Cassie wondered then as she watched him go, if it would have been easier for him if she had died. Now he'd have to face the world when she divorced him.

Cassie sat up in bed the next day, and called her parents again. She was still very weak, but she was feeling a lot better. She had contracted a tropical disease of some kind, but mostly she had suffered from dehydration, malnutrition, and exposure, and it would take time to get back to normal. She was so weak, she couldn't even sit up without assistance. That afternoon Desmond showed up with a few photographers, but the nurse refused to let him bring them in to Cassie. He threatened to report her to her superiors, and she said it made absolutely no difference to her. The doctor had said no visitors except immediate family, and that was all she would allow to see Mrs. Williams.

He was furious and he left almost immediately, and Cassie burst into laughter. ‘thank you, Lieutenant Clarke. You stick to your guns.”

“I don't think you want to see the press.” Cassie still looked very thin and pale and very disheveled. They gave her a bath that afternoon, and she washed her hair, and she almost felt human again by that night. But fortunately, Desmond never came back to see her. He had been very proper with her, but it was obvious that his only interest in her recovery was what he could tell the papers. He had even told them about the lei the crew of the Lexington had left for her before setting sail that morning. Her survival had already been announced in newspapers around the world, and in Hornchurch, Nick had cried when his commander told him.

On Saturday, Desmond tried to get the press in to Cassie's room again, and once again, the indomitable Lieutenant Clarke managed to thwart him. It was becoming a game, and Cassie loved it.

“He seems awfully intent on letting the press in to see you,” Lieutenant Clarke said cautiously, wondering what Cassie saw in him, but she didn't dare ask her. Other than his good looks and expensive clothes, he seemed to have a heart of stone. The only thing he warmed to was the press, and certainly not Cassie. But that wasn't news to Cassie. She was only amused that her nurse was so good at annoying him. She didn't want to see anyone yet. Except her parents. And they had decided to wait for her to come home, now that she was doing better.

Lieutenant Clarke walked her down the hall for the first time that afternoon, and the doctor said he thought Desmond could fly her home by the end of the week. She needed to build her strength up a little bit, and they wanted to be sure the fever didn't return. But so far it hadn't all day, and she felt a great deal better.

A few men recognized her in the hospital as she walked down the hall awkwardly, she was still so weak, and they shook her hand and congratulated her on her survival. She was a heroine just for being alive, and she wished more than ever that Billy was alive now. She had sent a telegram to his father in San Francisco, expressing her grief to him.

“We were all praying for you, Cassie,” people told her in the halls, and she thanked them warmly. Letters and telegrams were pouring in too. President and Mrs. Roosevelt had even called her at the hospital. But it didn't seem fair to Cass that Billy hadn't made it, and she had. She felt terribly guilty and unhappy about it, and she cried whenever anyone mentioned him. She was still emotionally worn out by everything that had happened.

She was pensive as she sat in her room most of the time and the nurses didn't want to disturb her. They could see that she was still troubled, and exhausted by her ordeal. They knew only that her co-pilot had died, but they knew no other details. And Cassie wasn't talking about it to anyone. She did a lot of thinking, and some sleeping. And she found herself thinking of Nick, and wondering where he was. She had never had the opportunity to tell him how right he'd been about Desmond. But maybe it didn't matter anymore. They had their own lives to lead. He wanted his own life, and she needed time just to recover from all that had happened. But when she felt better she wanted to look up Jackie Cochran, and talk to her about the planes she had ferried to England.