Henry and I felt good about our flying school by the end of our second week in business. Some newspaper advertising generated a few new students, and Barry McDay had proven to be a great find as a part-time pilot. He willingly helped with cleaning and fueling the airplanes. He volunteered time in the office to answer the telephone and was a hit with the customers.

After work on the Monday, Henry and I bought Barry a beer at the local pub. It had been another good flying day.

"I left you a note in the cash box," Barry said when we were sitting in the bar. "One of the phone calls today was from the fuel company wondering when they might get paid for the avgas."

Henry and I looked at each other knowingly. Part of our business plan had been to maintain the company books every night before going home. Fifteen days later, we had not made a single accounting entry. Henry had been making bank deposits in the evening but we had no idea how much money had come in. I had been picking up the mail and placing it in a drawer unopened. We had not paid any bills.

"Maybe I'll ask Leanne to come in for a few hours tomorrow," Henry offered. "She can open the mail and pay a few bills. Is that all right with you?"

Leanne was Henry’s wife.

"Sure," I replied, sipping a beer. "Does she know anything about accounting?"

"She can balance a cheque book."

"That's good enough for me."

I knew that Leanne had spent the last eight years trapped at home with two kids and eight years before that teaching primary grades in school. They were not very good clerical qualifications but if she was willing to help for a day to get our paperwork on track, I had no objection.

I was already in the office when Leanne arrived with Henry the next morning. Her hair was short and she was wearing a big dress. She looked like a schoolteacher. She walked and stood with her feet apart as if to defy any eight year old to knock her over.

"Welcome to The Flying Circus, Leanne," I said with a smile. "I appreciate your coming. Would you like a cup of coffee?"

She answered like a primary school teacher, s-l-o-w-l-y and c-l-e-a-r-l-y.

"Yes, thank you very much," she said.

She gave the office a slow, once-over look. If she was nervous about helping us, it didn't show. I poured the coffee and she fixed it up with creamer and sugar.

"Could you spend a few minutes showing me what needs to be done?" she asked. "I think that'll work better than Henry telling me."

"Sure, Leanne. Bring your coffee behind the desk."

I showed her the drawer crammed with unopened mail, the cash box, the bank deposit slips, the unopened accounting ledger and our unused cheque book.

"If you could open the mail and pay some bills, that would be a great help," I said. "We eventually need to set up some system of accounting."

I also asked her to answer the telephone when Henry and I were both flying and to take messages.

She asked one question. "Do we lose customers over this coffee?"

"Two dead and three wounded," Henry answered quickly.

"I used yesterday's grounds," I confessed.

Leanne took the pot to the bathroom in the corner of the office, dumped it and brought back fresh water. She dug in the cupboard under the coffee maker and pulled out a fresh bag of coffee.

Barry walked in. He was scheduled with me for a lesson on his flying instructor course.

"Leanne," Henry said, "this is Barry McDay, the fellow who flies for us part time."

Leanne covered the length of the office in three wide strides.

"Pleased to meet you Barry," she said, giving his arm a few good pumps.

"I'm pleased to meet you, Mrs. Rains," he replied.

"Leanne," Henry corrected.

"Leanne," Barry said.

"McDay? Is your mother Scottish as well?" Leanne asked.

It was a nosy schoolteacher question delivered from out of nowhere.

Barry hesitated but he had the right answer. "Both my parents are Canadian."

Leanne wasn't put off that easily.

"Where does your red hair come from?" she asked. She obviously was a woman who had been cooped up too long.

Barry responded before Henry and I could rescue him.

"Actually," Barry said, "my great, great, great grandmother was enslaved by a band of roving Vikings."

I had a mouthful of coffee and nearly choked on it. It was a perfect response to an inappropriate question. Henry rocked on his heels with laughter.

"What's so funny?" Leanne asked. "Barry, you should be proud of your mixed heritage." She sounded like she genuinely believed him.

"Yes, ma'am," Barry replied with a smile, "I am."

I baled Barry out of further probing by starting our instructor lesson. We did a ground briefing while Henry pulled the airplanes out. Leanne opened the mail, sorting it into neat piles.

When Barry and I returned from our flight, Leanne was busy grilling Margaret Hathaway, my next student, about her background. I was worried that Leanne's probing would bother the customers but it sounded like Margaret was happily responding with full details. I had to interrupt them to take Margaret flying.

When we came back down, Leanne was sparring with Al Milton from behind the flight desk. Al was leaning on the counter and sparring right back.

"How did you get roped into working for these two losers?" Al asked in a loud voice as I walked into the office. It was obvious that the line, delivered with a chuckle, was for my benefit.

"I'm married to Henry," Leanne replied.

"Oh no!" Al exclaimed and laughed. "Here I was beginning to think you were an intelligent woman."

"Thank you," Leanne replied without hesitation. "I said we were married. I didn't say I was taking flying lessons from him."

Lucky for Leanne, Al could take it as well as give it. He laughed so hard that he spilled his coffee on the floor.

"Careful there," Leanne said, "I just washed that floor." She handed Al a paper towel.

I looked down. She had indeed cleaned the floor. She had also rearranged the furniture. We now had a distinct office area, a teaching area in front of the blackboard and a lounge area around the coffee pot. It looked like she was taking over.

"These guys must pay you a lot to put up with them," Al said. He was obviously trying to keep the sarcasm flowing.

"They can't afford it," Leanne replied as she handed me Margaret's invoice. It was filled out in perfect teacher printing.

Before Al could say anything else, Leanne turned to him and said, "But I get to sleep with one of the managing partners."

Al had to cover his mouth to keep from spewing more coffee. "Well that's got to be worth 50 cents," he chuckled after swallowing.

Henry walked through the door.

Al pointed to Leanne. "You should put a leash on this women," he said with a laugh. "She's telling everyone about her sex life."

"I only told him that I was working for trade rather than money," Leanne said.

I wondered if the conversation might be a too racy for Margaret but she laughed harder than anyone at the last comment.

Margaret signed her bill and booked another couple of lessons. Henry started a ground briefing with Al. Margaret left and Henry and Al went flying.