Tuesday Tale – Sky High

The large poster greeted us as we stepped out of the station. I nudged George.

I fingered my new, cheap, engagement ring.

This was the latest outer suburb we were visiting in our search for a home.

The voice startled us. At our side was a bloke who looked more like a scientist than a smarmy salesman.

At that moment the heavens opened and we jumped gratefully into his mini bus, smiling and nodding at several other passengers.

We were surprised to arrive ten minutes later at a huge aircraft hangar.

As the rain was torrential and there was nothing except fields around the hangar, we didn’t have much choice. We were parked near some outbuildings and the driver held a golf umbrella over our heads as we all clambered out and through a red door. The room we entered was large and bright and full of people helping themselves at a table laden with a selection of cakes. George had three and would have gone back for more if they had not announced the presentation was starting. Behind a small stage a screen lit up. I wondered if the chap addressing us was a comedian in his spare time, perhaps I had seen him on television. Was this all a big joke?

I nudged George, I worked for a little local radio station as the general dogsbody.

We were led to a door which opened into a sloping tunnel as if we were boarding an aeroplane. There were gasps of excitement as we stepped through the round doorway into a large light atrium, the centre of the four storey vessel. We were each given a small electronic device with a screen to show our location on a 3 D map and more importantly, one button to press which would guide us back to the atrium from anywhere. Thus we were free to explore until summoned by a signature tune.

George, with his technical and scientific expertise, was busy tapping surfaces, opening cabinets and marvelling at the lightweight constructions of cabins and furniture. I was entranced by the lush sky garden and the lovely personal apartments, so spacious compared to our cramped flat. Then we walked up a sloping passage and arrived at another floor where we were surprised to find a theatre and a dance hall. George saw a sign for the observation deck and rushed me down a spiral walkway to arrive at a glass floor. Presumably there was ground underneath, but the glass rested on an aerial picture of paradise islands in an azure sea.

A tune started playing on our devices.

Back at the atrium there was a buzz of chatter, then we were called to attention.

The hangar was even bigger than I had imagined from the outside, but the dirigible took up most of the vast space. It floated silently, gracefully, shimmering silver, how impressive it would be in the sky.

Two weeks later we were staring up at it from the airfield. Firmly tethered with our stately galleon below barely resting on the ground. We walked across the grass and up the gangway with the others, who like us had signed up on that very first day. Our ten day induction course was over, now we must learn the reality. Some opted to go to the top deck and look out of the picture windows, while George and I sat by the glass floor of the observation deck looking at grass, then the airfield and gradually a toy town.

At dinner that evening in the communal hall we chatted and found out more about each other, fifty people to get to know, all with interesting backgrounds, we would not get bored.

And we didn’t, as the weeks passed there was always more to learn, new parts of the galleon to explore and the beautiful earth to see fairly close up. Then there was our cosy apartment to retreat to. It wasn’t long before we and another two couples became part of Plan B. We were expecting a baby and put under the close care of the medical suite.

When we three couples were together we mentioned the subject and the chap who was in training with the flight engineer looked worried and awkward.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UKkNlwpajNk&t=26s