Another pause, then, ‘They’re saying the plane is down, sir. Into the sea, just off the town. About five miles out.’

‘What do you mean, down?’ Vic shouted. ‘What the hell is he playing at? He was supposed to do another pass.’

The voice at the other end of the phone line chattered for a few more agonising moments.

‘She seems to have got into trouble, they’re saying. The rescue boat is on its way.’

‘In trouble? Rescue? What on earth . . .?’ The words dried in his mouth. Johnnie. Johnnie was on board. Suddenly Vic felt violently sick. Pushing past Dr Rowe, he rushed outside into the fresh air. As the nausea began to recede, his chest became gripped with a real physical pain. Doubled up against the wall, he began to moan.

Not Johnnie, please God, keep him safe. If only he’d offered to go up in the plane instead. He had no family to provide for, no responsibilities or children abandoned to grieve their beloved father for the rest of their lives. He thought of that little family in the cottage, of Lizzie, and little Beth and Christopher, the boy with the room of Vic’s own childhood, filled with toy planes and books about practical things. Please, please let him be safe.

Scott was at his side. ‘Chin up, old boy. They’ve sent two boats out and they’re probably pulling them out of the drink as we speak. Don’t forget those planes are built to float. I’m sure they’ll all be fine. We’ll know in a few minutes, anyway. I’ll stay by the phone for news. Jimmy’s ordered tea – we all need it. Take a couple of sugars.’

The news could not have been worse. No one had any idea why the plane – a solid workhorse with years of good safety records – should have crash-dived into the sea so suddenly, apparently without warning. Captain Burrows, Johnnie and the other crew members were all pulled from the wreckage within minutes, but none had survived. It was the first fatal seaplane crash in more than a decade.

That afternoon, a sombre party led by Dr Rowe went to watch the plane being retrieved. The navy men received them with meticulous courtesy, but Vic could sense the shock and anger simmering close to the surface. Five of their number had lost their lives, including one of their most valued and experienced pilots. The only thing different about this flight had been the equipment installed by Vic’s team and the two dipole wires. Although nothing was said, it was clear they strongly suspected this to have been the cause of the crash.

A sturdy fishing boat had been called into service, using its trawler beam to tow the wreckage to shore. It looked nothing like a plane any more, just a mountain of bent metal and tangled wires. The craft would have hit the water with such force that the men must have died instantly.