“What do you mean?” asked George.
“Cottie’s just got married,” said Mary. “A diplomat from the Foreign Office. Didn’t you know?”
“No, I didn’t,” admitted George. “I wasn’t invited to the wedding.”
“Hardly surprising,” said Mary. “If you read Peking Picnic, you might understand why.”
“What are you getting at?”
“The hero of the novel is a young schoolmaster who was educated at Cambridge and climbs mountains in his spare time.”
Trafford laughed. “What? No mention of his dashing younger brother, the fearless flying ace who, after beating off the Germans, returns to his homeland to become the youngest flight commander in the RAF?”
“Only one paragraph,” said Mary. “But she does suggest that, like his more handsome older brother, he’s destined for higher things.”
“That might depend on which one of us is the first to reach 29,000 feet,” suggested Trafford.
“Twenty-nine thousand and two feet,” said George.
1924
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
THE REST OF the committee were studying the RGS’s latest map of the Himalaya when General Bruce began his report.
“Most of the back-up party should have reached 17,000 feet by now,” said the General, tapping the map with his monocle to indicate the position. “Their job will be to make sure that everything is ready for Mallory and his team of climbers by the time they turn up at base camp in twelve weeks’ time.”
“Good,” said George. “And as I’ve already identified the route I intend to take, that will give us more than a month to get bedded in and have a crack at the summit before the monsoon season sets in.”
“Can we assume, Mallory,” said Sir Francis, “that we’ve dealt with most of the anxieties you raised following the previous expedition?”
“You certainly can, Mr. Chairman,” George replied. “But after my desultory efforts in the United States, I’m bound to ask where the money has come from to make all this possible.”
“We had an unexpected windfall,” explained Hinks. “Although all may not have gone to plan for you in America, Mallory, Noel’s film, The Epic of Everest, was a huge success here. So much so that he’s offered the Society eight thousand pounds for the exclusive, I think the expression is ‘cinematography rights,’ for the next expedition, with only one proviso.”
“And what might that be?” asked Raeburn.
“That Mallory be appointed as climbing leader,” said Hinks.
“And as I’ve already agreed to that,” said Mallory, “all that’s left for me to do is settle the composition of the rest of my climbing party.”
“Which quite frankly, Mr. Chairman,” interjected Geoffrey Young, “selects itself.”
George nodded, and took a piece of paper from his jacket pocket. “May I present the list of names for the committee’s approval, Mr. Chairman?”
“Yes, of course, old boy,” said Sir Francis. “Damn it all, it’s your team.”
George read out the names that he and Young had agreed on at the previous meeting of the Alpine Club. “Norton, Somervell, Morshead, Odell, Finch, Bullock, Hingston, Noel, and myself.” He looked up, expecting to receive the committee’s unanimous approval.
There was a long silence before the chairman responded. “I’m sorry to have to tell you, Mallory, that I received a letter only this morning from Mr. Finch saying that he felt that, given the circumstances, he would have to withdraw
his name for consideration as a member of the 1924 expedition.”
“Given the circumstances?” repeated George. “What circumstances?”
Sir Francis nodded in Hinks’s direction. Hinks opened one of the files in front of him, extracted a letter and passed it to George.
George read it twice before he said, “But he gives no specific reason for having to withdraw.” He passed the letter to Geoffrey Young, then asked, “Is he ill, by any chance?”