'Switch on fuel booster pump until warning light goes out.'
'Where do you think that is?'
We found the fuel controls in an awkward position above our heads and to the rear of the flight deck. Randolph switched on the booster pumps.
'I don't want to be a featured character,' he said. 'I'll be quite happy working as a mature elder male mentor figure or something; there is call for one in Girls Make all the Moves.'
'Isn't that the novel Lola will be working in?'
'Is it?' he said, feigning ignorance badly. 'I had no idea.'
'Okay,' I said as the fuel pressure warning light went out, 'now what?'
'Set selector switch to required engine and operate priming pump until delivery pipes are full.'
I pumped slowly, the faint smell of aviation spirit filling the air.
'What's this love/hate thing between you and Lola?'
'Oh, that's all well over,' he said dismissively. 'She's seeing some guy over at the Heroes Advanced Classes.'
I stopped pumping as the handle met with some resistance.
'We have fuel pressure. What's next?'
'Ignition and booster coil both on.'
'Check.'
'Press starter and when engine is turning, operate primer. Does that make sense?'
'Let's see.'
I pressed the starter button and the prop slowly started to move. Randolph pumped the primer and there was a cough as the engine fired; then another, this time accompanied by a large puff of black smoke from the exhaust. A few waders that were poking around in the shallows took flight as the engine appeared to die, then caught again and started to fire more regularly, the loud detonations transmitting through the airframe as a series of rumbles, growls and squeaks. I released the start button and Randolph stopped priming. The engine smoothed out, I switched to auto-Rich and the oil pressure started to rise. I throttled back and smiled at Randolph, who grinned at me.
'Are you seeing anyone?' I asked him.
'No.'
He looked at me with his large eyes and his face fell. When we first met he had been an empty husk; a blank face with no personality or features to call his own. Now he was a man of fifty but with the emotional insecurity of a fifteen-year-old.
'I can't imagine life without her, Thursday!'
'So tell her.'
'And make myself look an idiot? She'd tell everyone at Tabularasa's – I'd be the laughing stock of them all!'
'Who cares? Dr Fnorp tells me it's affecting your work; do you want to end up as a walk-on part somewhere?'
'I really don't care,' he said sadly. 'Without Lola there isn't much of a future.'
'There'll be other Generics!'
'Not like her. Always laughing and joking. When she's around the sun shines and the birds sing.' He stopped and coughed, embarrassed at his admission. 'You won't tell anyone I said all that stuff, will you?'
He was smitten good and proper.
'Randolph,' I said slowly, 'you have to tell her your feelings, if only for your own sake. This will prey on your mind for years!'