Churchill’s Angels

by Ruby Jackson

  The girls were wide-eyed with excitement.

  ‘Are you stepping out, Daisy?’

  ‘Much more important: have you met his family, Petrie? I thought not.’ The clipped tones came from Felicity Carmyllie. ‘I hear he’s heir to an earldom. They don’t marry plebeians; sleep with them, yes.’

  ‘Ignore her, Daisy,’ Charlie hissed. ‘If you react, the bitch will never leave you alone. Now tell me,’ she said in a much louder voice, ‘what is it like to actually look down on the earth?’ Charlotte, who must have flown to holiday destinations several times, led the questions.

  ‘Even more, what’s it like when you’re flying the cardboard box, because that’s all they are, isn’t it, some plywood, and a few bits of wire? You’ll never get me going up in one of them.’

  ‘Did your stomach flip, Daisy, like on a funfair?’

  The questions went on and on, especially when Felicity tried to say anything.

  ‘Anyone on duty?’

  For much of the past week, even after a long busy day, the entire hut had been on duty after seven as a defence precaution and so that they could familiarise themselves with the routine in case of an attack.

  One WAAF raised her hand. ‘Don’t worry about me, girls. I volunteered. I can’t dance and I loathe New Year’s Eve. I shall be perfectly happy.’

  ‘What do you feel about New Year’s Eve, Daisy?’

  ‘I love it. My parents invite the world in. It’s great fun, singing, dancing, listening to the wireless. What about you, Charlie?’

  ‘Oh, it’s all right, but sometimes seems like a poor excuse for bad behaviour. What do you plan to wear?’

  ‘Not much choice; must have missed the bit that said party frock on the list they sent. I’ve got a nice blouse but it’ll have to be my uniform skirt, though I do have my best shoes – with a heel – and stockings my sister sent me for Christmas. What about you?’

  ‘My family packs for every emergency. I did bring a pretty frock.’

  As well as the stunning outfit she had worn when they met, Charlie had two day dresses with her, both simple but beautifully tailored. Charlie was always just right.

  Several of the girls went together to the mess for their evening meal, called tea, and had a tasty stew of a meat that no one quite recognised, and vegetables, followed by a piece of cake, an apple for those who wanted one, and mugs of hot sweet tea. It was judged a fine meal by military standards, if not particularly festive.

  They hurried back to their billet to change. Almost everyone was excited and cries of, ‘Anyone got a pink lipstick?’ or, ‘Who’s got a steady hand? I need a line drawn up my legs?’ rang out.

  Daisy felt those pleasurable feelings in the pit of her stomach. Would he really come? Did she want him to? Adair as a workmate, even as an instructor, was very different from Adair as … as what? An escort? A date? Daisy Petrie who lived above a shop in Dartford and Adair Maxwell who … Daisy laughed. Adair seemed to live above an old stable on a Kentish farm.

  They had had several days without air-raid warnings. How awful it would be if the Germans decided to unleash a real offensive. Surely no one would want to fight on New Year’s Eve. Stupid Daisy. No normal person wants to fight.

  Charlie was rummaging in her bag. ‘Honestly, it’s worse than school,’ she said. ‘There’s always someone who just can’t be seen without nail varnish.’

  ‘Remind her there’s a war on,’ teased Daisy, who was loving every minute.

  Charlie’s dark green velvet dress was voted the prettiest frock ever, although Daisy was slightly disappointed. For a dance she had expected some glitter or other embellishment but Charlie’s dress was surprisingly simple.

  ‘It’s a dress up or leave alone, according to the occasion, Daisy,’ she explained. ‘I shall dress it up with this wrap. What do you think?’

  ‘Stunning.’ The wrap was an unusual mix of pale green, dark green and gold, and was of fine wool.

  Charlie was digging in her drawer. ‘Now what do you think of this?’ She held up a long chain of silver links.

  Daisy felt that the chain, although lovely, was quite wrong for the dress but was too unsure of herself to say so.

  ‘Don’t you think it’s pretty?’

  ‘It’s lovely, Charlie, but …’

  ‘Good. Would you like to borrow it to dress up your skirt? If you use it as a belt and let all the extra links hang down to your knees, I think it will look quite partyish.’ She had threaded the links through Daisy belt loops as she spoke. ‘Fait accompli, Daisy. You look lovely.’

  ‘Silver doesn’t disguise class, Charlotte.’ Felicity Carmyllie was looking on, displeasure written all over her face.

  ‘I know. So sad. But then, Felicity dear, neither do elocution lessons. Come on, Daisy, our escorts are waiting and I must get over early – toe-tapping music should be heard as the merry-makers arrive.’

  Charlie swept Daisy past the startled Felicity and outside, grabbing Daisy’s coat on the way.

  ‘Why does she dislike me so much, Charlie?’

  ‘She dislikes everyone. Poor old Carmyllie is doomed to go through life disappointed. Don’t allow her to hurt you, Daisy. She can’t, you know, unless you allow her.’

  Two tall men in casual clothes were walking along the path towards them but Daisy paid no attention until, instead of stepping aside to let them pass, the men stopped in front of them.

  ‘Hello, Daisy, and you must be Charlie. Adair Maxwell,’ he finished with the slightest bow. ‘And I believe you know Wing Commander Anstruther.’

  ‘Ladies.’ The senior officer shook hands with each girl in turn. ‘Shall we walk over with you?’

  They turned and headed towards the recreation hall where the party was being held. Automatically, Adair stepped behind to walk with Daisy while the senior officer escorted Charlie.

  ‘The wing commander won’t be able to stay as he’s involved in meetings with my passenger but he does want to talk to you at some point about flying.’

  ‘Is he angry?’

  ‘Gosh, no.’ Adair grabbed her hand and squeezed it and then, as if suddenly aware of the intimacy of the gesture, released it. ‘He’s fascinated and very forward-thinking. There’s a tremendous amount of resistance to women pilots, you know, and believe me, I can’t think of anyone who would condone women pilots in combat situations, but why shouldn’t women fly? They drive. They sail. Only thing left is flight.’

  ‘Maybe men want to keep it to themselves.’

  He laughed. ‘Touché.’

  She was quiet – another of those words she didn’t understand – but she smiled; why, she didn’t quite know. Her hand seemed still afire with his touch and Daisy felt that she would be happy just to walk on and on, listening to him speak or laugh. Even if he never said a word, it would be lovely, she thought.

  ‘Are you happy here, Daisy? Are the courses going well?’

  ‘All marching, climbing and book learning at the mo. Never even set eyes on an actual engine.’

  ‘That will come at your next posting.’

  They had reached the hut and both Charlie and the wing commander had disappeared. Loud jazz music was pouring out of the hut, together with the happy sounds of revelry.

  ‘Why did he walk over with you, Adair?’

  ‘He knows her family. Doing the polite, nothing more. He certainly doesn’t want to make her an object of gossip. Come on, let me take your coat and I’ll fetch us drinks. Don’t worry. No one’s in uniform, no stripes visible.’

  ‘You look very nice, Daisy Petrie,’ he said when she removed her coat, ‘but you look good in anything.’

  Two girls from her billet were sitting at a table where there were a few empty spaces and they called out to Daisy to join them. ‘Listen to Charlie,’ they shouted above the noise, ‘and Edith. Aren’t they fantastic?’

  Daisy smiled her agreement. She knew nothing about music but loved the sound she was hearing from the several men and women on a dais at the far end of the
hut.

  One of the men stood up and pulled Daisy to her feet. ‘Let’s dance, beautiful.’

  ‘Sorry, chum, Beautiful is dancing this one with me.’ Adair had set down the drinks and was offering Daisy his hand.

  ‘I’m not a good …’ began Daisy but she was already in Adair’s arms and almost galloping around the room.

  ‘What was that?’ she gasped as they came to an exhausted halt.

  ‘Something called bebop or was it the Turkey Trot? Haven’t the slightest idea, Daisy, but I knew you could do it. You’re fit and have superb balance.’

  The evening flew on. They danced and they sang and they cheered the band and one another. By the time the band leader announced that it would soon be 1941, Daisy had met and talked or danced with more people on the airfield than she had met in her weeks of training. She really felt like a WAAF and was immensely proud.

  Charlie had joined them for a drink during a band break.

  ‘Well, well, Aircraftswoman Second Class Petrie. I don’t blame you one bit for hiding him. If he were teaching me to fly – or anything else for that matter – I am quite sure I’d need hours of instruction.’

  ‘I wasn’t hiding him,’ said Daisy, and then looked at her friend Charlie and laughed. ‘He’s rather hard to hide.’

  ‘The band sees all, Daisy, and the green eyes of envy were standing out on stalks all over the room. When are you seeing him again?’

  ‘I’m not, Charlie. He’s a fighter pilot. He’s never here. Besides, we don’t have that kind of relationship. I just happen to live near the farm where he kept his plane and I helped him strip the engine. He’s grateful for my help.’

  ‘Trust Aunt Charlotte, gratitude is not uppermost on his mind. And here he is with our – wow, Adair, bubbly for the New Year.’

  ‘Bubbly for Daisy; I promised her some, seems like a lifetime ago.’

  ‘Then off you go, my children. I’ll take mine to the bandstand.’

  Bubbly? Champagne. The Christmas sherry seemed so long ago. Adair had the bottle and two glasses in one hand and he took Daisy’s with the other and followed Charlie to the dais where he set down the champagne. It was all so normal for them and so exciting for her.

  ‘Let’s stand here for the countdown. We don’t want to miss it.’

  He poured the champagne into the glasses and handed one to Daisy. She looked down into the liquid where little bubbles jumped and tumbled, exactly like the ones in her stomach.

  ‘Happy New Year.’ The call rang out.

  ‘Happy New Year, dearest Daisy,’ said Adair as he touched his glass to hers and then, before she had had a chance even to sip, he had leaned over and kissed her very gently on the lips. They stepped back for a second and then Adair leaned forward and kissed Daisy again. It was not a gentle kiss this time but one full of both passion and longing, and Daisy surprised herself by responding fully.

  There was no time to say anything for the huge room erupted with excited cries. Complete strangers hugged and kissed, and in less than ten minutes Daisy felt as if she had been kissed more often in this one night than in her entire life. Adair was there at her side to intervene gently when things got rowdy.

  ‘How’s your champagne? Some blighter’s pinched our bottle.’

  ‘It was perfect.’

  ‘Next time, a lovely restaurant, great food …’

  She put her hand to his lips, a gesture that surprised her more than it did him, but just then a uniformed airman interrupted them. ‘Sorry to disturb, sir, but the group captain wonders if you could join them in his office.’

  ‘Daisy—’ he began.

  ‘I know. There’s a war on.’

  ‘Have I time to take the lady …?’

  ‘Rather urgent, sir.’

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘I’ll walk back with her, Adair.’ Charlie had jumped down from the bandstand, her clarinet in her hand. ‘Me and Clarence here.’

  The airman had already started to walk away. Adair looked at Daisy and Charlie for a moment, and then turned and walked away smartly.

  ‘That was exceedingly good champagne, Daisy.’

  Daisy smiled. ‘I wouldn’t know. The bubbles went up my nose. Happy New Year, Charlie.’

  ‘And you, my dear. Come on, let’s walk back to the billet, but I, for one, am far too squiffy to sleep. Guess who nicked the bottle.’

  ‘Charlie!’

  ‘Noble cause – I shared it with the band.’

  ‘Especially me,’ said a slightly inebriated voice. Edith clambered down with her saxophone. ‘Thank you, Daisy. I have never had champagne before and I think it went straight to my head.’

  They found their coats and left the slowly emptying hall. Daisy noticed that they turned right instead of left. ‘Will we be able to find our way back if we go round the wrong way?’

  ‘They’ll throw us out of the WAAF if we can’t, Aircraftswoman Petrie. Find the North Star.’

  ‘I can’t find my hand, never mind a star, Charlie. All the lights have gone out.’

  ‘Oh, all right, let’s just follow the road. It does go all the way round.’

  They walked in complete darkness, stumbling as they came to the edges of pavements, past buildings they recognised and others they did not.

  ‘Good Lord, how did we get to the office block?’

  Before anyone could hazard a guess, Charlie grabbed each girl and pulled them towards her. ‘Ssh,’ she whispered as a door in the office block opened and light, together with four men, came out. One man was in civilian clothes. ‘Don’t breathe,’ whispered Charlie.

  ‘Good night, Doctor. Wing Commander Anstruther will escort you to the mess. Sleep well. Young Maxwell here will fly you out first thing.’

  They did not hear the reply but as two men peeled away from the others, the light shone on the civilian and Daisy gasped.

  The civilian Very Important Person, addressed as ‘Doctor’, was the man she had known all her life as Mr Fischer.

  ELEVEN

  Adair and his passenger had taken off long before Daisy rose on New Year’s morning. She had pulled on gym clothes and run over to the aircraft hangar, with the excuse that she needed to clear her head, but the very bleary-eyed technician on duty had denied that there had ever been a Tiger Moth on the airfield. Obviously then, he had not been on duty on New Year’s Eve.

  ‘Mind you, I did hear that some pilot took a girl up yesterday and they might have said it was a Tiger Moth – don’t really remember too much about yesterday.’ He looked carefully at Daisy. ‘Was it you? Did a female actually fly a plane? God, what is the world coming to?’

  ‘Me? I only came over to see the plane. They must have left early.’

  ‘Wouldn’t know.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Daisy, and started to run.

  His voice followed her. ‘They? Who’s they?’

  But Daisy was soon out of earshot.

  Back at the billet she made a pot of tea. Many of her roommates, including Charlie and the unpleasant Felicity, were asleep, and Daisy had no real wish to go over for breakfast by herself. Edith, the saxophonist, had been violently ill during the night – ‘intolerance to alcohol’, Charlie had decided – but she was now awake and very thirsty.

  Daisy held a large mug of hot sweet tea to her lips.

  ‘Don’t fret, Edith. It’s not the end of the world.’

  But, with a groan of abject misery, Edith slid down under her blankets.

  ‘Just as well she’s not on duty.’ Charlie, looking remarkably bright, had just emerged. ‘Good grief, Daisy, did you go to bed at all?’

  ‘Of course, and been out for a run.’

  ‘Adair gone?’

  Daisy hesitated. She certainly did not want to lie but neither did she want to talk, even to Charlie.

  ‘Don’t worry, not another word. Give me five minutes and we can have breakfast, unless you’ve been over.’

  ‘Not hungry.’

  ‘Love does that, or so they tell me. I’m raveno
us and will even try that revolting-looking porridge.’

  The dining hall was almost empty. Those on duty had eaten early and left, and it looked as if those not on duty had elected to spend the morning in bed. Daisy had been pleased to assure her parents that food in the services was not only plentiful but also tasty. She made a pretence of eating toast while Charlie demolished a tray of hot food, including the rather lumpy porridge.

  ‘Delish. You should try it, Daisy, so good for you.’

  ‘I believe you. I think I’ll write letters today. Goodness knows when we’ll have another chance.’ She wondered whether she should say anything to Charlie about seeing Mr Fischer – if it was he. Surely she could not really judge, having caught only the merest glimpse in poor light. If Adair’s passenger had been her old friend then he was not only safe but also rather important. ‘Another cuppa, Charlie?’

  Charlie, with her mouth full, nodded and handed over her cup. Daisy walked over to get refills.

  ‘Did you actually fly that plane yesterday?’ A uniformed sergeant was standing beside her.

  ‘With an experienced pilot, yes, Sergeant.’

  ‘Can’t you join me for a moment? It’s just so amazing. Flying is something I’ve dreamed of for years. My brother’s a pilot; Bomber Command.’

  Daisy looked round to where Charlie was sitting. ‘I have—’ she began.

  ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have interrupted your free time. Please rejoin your friend but first tell me – does one really feel like a bird?’

  Daisy smiled. ‘I did the first time I was taken up, but yesterday I was just so anxious to get it right that I don’t remember thinking anything.’

  The sergeant stood up and held out her hand. ‘Claire Johnstone,’ she said. ‘Thank you, and carry on for all of us, my dear. I wish you a very happy year.’

  ‘You too,’ said Daisy.

  ‘She wished me a very happy year, Charlie, and I said, “You too.” Is that wrong?’

  ‘Not in this particular situation. Usually one merely repeats the greeting. Don’t worry about small things so much. The sergeant seems nice.’