The Golden Age

Chapter 20: Cappuccino Volante

It was, thought Gabriella Balzinni, the perfect plan. Of course it was risky but it would be worth it. Airship was the most luxurious, the most fashionable way to travel. Only that morning there had been the commentary on the radio of the Hindenburg leaving Berlin for New York it would reach the United States three days later. Somehow the radio had conveyed all the sense of elegance and excitement that Gabriella knew would have filled the air as the passengers filed aboard and the ship had eased away from its mooring. And now, looking at her newspaper, the Il Messaggero announced, now her sister ship, the Friedrich Nietzsche, was passing through Rome on its way to Africa .

Gabriella was sitting at a table in a pavement café on the Via Veneto. She waved to Lucia Carlo, her best friend as she cycled into view. “Ciao, Lucia,” she called as her friend propped her cycle against a lamp post and came to join her.

“You're dreaming again Gabriella,” Lucia laughed, pointing at the picture of the airship filling fully half of the front page of the Messaggero. “The only way you're going to ride in one of those is if you find a man with a whole lot more money than those boys you currently have in tow.”

Gabriella giggled. Her friend was right, of course. She should never really hope to enjoy the comfort of an airship's lounge, the stunning views as the ship slid steadily over the countryside, the sense of being at one with the winds as the ship sailed towards its destination. But now she had a plan. “Don't be too sure, Lucia,” she said. “Anyway, who knows. I have a lotto ticket this week, I might be lucky.”

The two girls enjoyed their coffees as the morning traffic buzzed busily around them. Gabriella kept her plan to herself but she had already worked out most of the details. As the Nietzsche took on supplies at Rome airfield she would stow away – at the very worst they would have to carry her as far as Athens and she would get the chance to experience something she was sure she would never do otherwise. And, since the Nietzsche arrived that very afternoon, the time to do something about it was now.

From the Via Veneto it was a hot bicycle ride out to the airfield. She cycled through the two wrought iron gates that guarded the entrance to the terminal building. Nobody stopped her as she went inside or noticed as she slipped into the ladies washroom with her tiny back pack.

The airport terminal building was almost the only sign of civilisation on the windy plain where the airfield was. Recently built to show Il Duce's commitment to Italian supremacy of the airways of the Mediterranean , it offered a haven from the hot dry winds that scoured the airfield. The terminal had been built as a curved confection of concrete with a massive bronze fasces over the entrance. Inside, the walls of the large lounge were lined with burr walnut veneer panels, each edged with a strip or brightly shining chrome. Around the lounge deeply padded leather armchairs and sofas provided the seating. A brooding, bronze, bust of Mussolini scowled down from marble pillar in the centre of the wall of steel and glass that looked out across the field to where the airship mooring mast awaited the afternoon arrival of the Friedrich Nietzsche.

Gabriella emerged, looking the height of elegance. Her back pack, now hidden away behind a cistern had held a pale green silk dress “borrowed” from the fashion store where she worked and a small clutch bag. Every crease of the dress had shaken out as soon as she had taken it from her bag to change and now she sat, in one of the lounge's comfortable armchairs, sunglasses perched on top of her head, looking as if she owned the terminal, and affecting a bored look.

She had been there perhaps an hour when a smartly uniformed policeman appeared at her side. “Ciao, signorina,” he smiled clicking his heels to attention as he came up beside her seat. Was she quite comfortable? Nothing she needed? She should not worry. The Nietzsche would be arriving shortly – a problem with head winds. Would the signorina like him to explain?

Gabriella fended off most of his attentions without offending him but then realised that he could help her.

“You must see many women here, officer,” she began.

“Oh some, but none to compare with the beautiful signorina .”

“Well thank you, such a complement is especially welcome from such a handsome officer.” The policeman's chest puffed up with pride. “And you must see much of the pilots of the planes and the airship captains.”

“ Si , of course. With many I am great friends.” He held two fingers out laid one alongside the other.

“Then I will confide in you. I have a great passion for the first officer of the Friedrich Nietzsche. We met when he was last in Rome and for me it was love at first sight.”

“And for him it could be nothing less, I am sure.”

“I thought so. But I write and he doesn't answer. And now I worry that he may be seeing another.”

“How could he, signorina ? They are sometimes cold these Germans, you know. They do not show always how they feel. Il Duce,” he nodded towards the bust atop its marble pillar, “may think he has great influence with Herr Hitler but I think that man will just go where he chooses.”

“Exactly. So I thought I would come here and find him. I am sure if we could just speak, if we could be together then all would be well. But I am so worried that the airship will not be here long, he may not even disembark. I just could not bear it not to see him, even if only for a moment.”

“Fear not. Signorina , I can help you. I know just what to do. You are right, he will probably not leave the ship and even if he did then he would be here for only a few minutes – if you really wish to be with him you will have to take the risk of being aboard when the airship takes off. Could you face that?”

“Oh yes, I would do anything to be with him.”

“Well this is what we must do,” he went on conspiratorially. “When the airship arrives there will always be a confusion at the mast head with a great deal of coming and going. I will take you out to the mast, you can hide by the gangway and when the stores are being loaded you can wait for your moment and simply walk aboard. There are always passengers embarking and disembarking. They do not check the tickets until the very last moment, all you need to do is hide- perhaps in your lover's cabin – that would be so romantic – no?”

“Oh, but will you not get into trouble?”

“For you, Signorina, and for love, it is a small risk. I would love to have a woman care so much for me that she would risk so much to be with me. You do him a great honour and if he fails to recognise this then he is not worthy of you. For me, I am proud to help you.”

“Well thank you, officer. You are a true gentleman and a true champion of amore.”

Which was how Gabriella Balzinni came to be able to slip aboard the airship in the twenty minutes that it paused in its flight at Rome . There had been no one around when she stepped from the tower into the airship. She had found a locker close to the gangway and had slid inside, squeezing in beside the coiled mooring ropes that were used at the nose of the airship when there was no tower for it to dock with. She had waited until the thumps, bangs and clanks were followed by a lurch as the ship left the tower and then had waited another hour so they would be well under way.

When she emerged from the locker there was no sign of anyone. She remembered the diagramme from that morning's paper – the gangway stretching downwards led to the passenger cabins and she would be quickly discovered if she went that way. Instead she followed the walkway that stretched straight ahead of her through the core of the ship, between the gas bags. There was a stair way halfway along, she knew. That way she would be able to slip down right beside the crew cabins – she might be able to persuade one of them to hide her – after all her policeman had been so helpful.

Gabriella made her way along the walkway, the colossal gas bags on either side straining on the netting that held them captive and allowed them to lift the airship. She reached the stair way. Looking up in wonder at the enormous cathedral like space between the gas bags she saw four globes, metallic cages, high above her, spinning and swinging slowly as the ship moved forwards and upwards. “Odd,” she thought, “I wonder what they are.” Then concentrating on listening in case anyone was to discover her, she went slowly down the stair way and slipped into one of the cabins.