Heartwarming and emotional story of one girl's courage in WW2

by Fenella J Miller

  If she stood to one side of the window she could see out without being seen. Jack remained oblivious and she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

  The car pulled up smoothly a few yards from the office and not one, but two men got out. One was medium height, slightly bald and wearing glasses – her pulse steadied. He looked harmless enough. The other one was tall and solidly built and had a broken nose.

  Her stomach plummeted again. He could certainly be a villain. She didn’t know what to do. Should she go out and meet them or hide in here? The matter was taken out of her hands. They were heading her way. Good grief! She was being quite ridiculous – the bespectacled man was holding a medical bag.

  She reached the door at the same time as them. ‘You must be Jack’s friends. I don’t know if he’s sleeping or unconscious. Thank you for coming I was about to ring for the ambulance.’

  She shuffled back so they could come in and there was scarcely room for all four of them in the small space. ‘I’m Jimmy Hunt, medical chap. What’s the silly bugger been up to this time?’

  ‘Someone shot him last night. I found him when I got here this morning and have done the best I can but I’m sure he needs stitches.’

  ‘Nige, give me a hand to move him outside. I need to get a proper look and it’s too cramped in here.’

  Ellie had expected some sort of reaction when she’d announced that the patient had been shot, but neither of them seemed at all put out by her shocking news. ‘I’ll spread out the rugs on the grass and you can put him on one of those.’

  Hastily she tossed them down and watched as the two of them staggered out of the office with Jack. Nige – presumably Nigel – at the heavy end and the doc with Jack’s feet. She stepped aside and they gently put him down.

  The doc checked Jack’s vital signs and she was relieved to see him nod as if satisfied with what he discovered.

  ‘Good. From what I can see he is in no immediate danger. His pulse is strong and steady. He’s asleep, his body’s recuperating from the loss of blood, not unconscious.’

  ‘I’m Nigel DeVere, and you are?’ The big man with a broken nose smiled and held out his hand.

  ‘Ellie Simpson. I work here.’ She ignored his gesture.

  ‘Good show – we chaps need a little woman to keep us in order. Any chance of a cup of tea?’

  ‘Actually, I need to get an aircraft ready. Although the pre-flight checks are always done by the pilot, it’s better if an experienced instructor does them first.’

  He stared at her as if she’d grown two heads. ‘Are you talking about yourself? Surely not? Women don’t fly aeroplanes in my experience.’

  How did someone as sensible as Jack have such a twerp for a friend? ‘Then, Mr DeVere, your experience is very limited. Have you never heard of Amy Johnson? There are young men in the RAF today that I taught to fly.’ She pointed to the office. ‘You’ll find the kettle and a paraffin stove in there. Feel free to help yourself.’

  She turned her back on him and walked over to speak to Doctor Hunt. ‘Does he need to go to hospital? He was adamant that he didn’t want to.’

  ‘Gunshot wounds are always reported to the authorities so probably best if he doesn’t go. You’ve done an excellent job patching him up for now. We’ll take him with us and I’ll stitch him up at my surgery. Do you know why someone shot him?’

  She shook her head. ‘He interrupted a burglar he thinks was after the cash box. There are a lot of unpleasant people in Romford. I expect they thought our flying club was somewhere a bit smarter than this.’

  The doctor didn’t believe a word of it but he didn’t pursue it. ‘Will you be all right here on your own? There’s no chance they might come back?’

  ‘Not in daylight certainly. I’ve only got one client to deal with today and as soon as they’ve gone I’ll lock-up and go home. It was just unlucky that Jack was here last night,’ she explained and Doctor Hunt laughed.

  ‘Typical Jack. In case you’re wondering how we know each other, we went to the same school. He kept the bullies at bay and made my life bearable. I owe him a lot.’

  ‘I take it that Mr DeVere isn’t a friend of his.’ She could hear this objectionable man banging about in the office. She was glad she had the envelope in her pocket.

  ‘No, he was at med school with me but dropped out. Does something in the city nowadays. I’m sorry you had to put up with his nonsense. I had to bring someone strong enough to lift Jack – I couldn’t do it on my own. Take no notice of Nigel.’

  ‘I’ve met plenty like him and have learned to ignore them. How long will Jack be out of action?’

  ‘Once I’ve stitched him up he’ll just need a day or two to recuperate. I’m not sure he’ll be fit to fly, that could take few days. To be on the safe side, I think he’d better wait until the stitches come out.’

  ‘Do you have to take him to London? Couldn’t you do it in my kitchen at home? You could boil your instruments and then Jack could stay with us until he’s back on his feet.’

  ‘Are you sure your parents won’t object? If Jack wants to keep this quiet, it might be better if he comes with me.’

  Nine

  Jack roused himself sufficiently to speak. ‘I’d prefer to go to Glebe Farm. Ellie, you’ll need to ring your dad and tell him what’s happened.’

  ‘I can’t go home right now as we’ve got someone coming. Once I’ve refuelled and done the checks I can leave for a while. You mustn’t be lying there when he arrives.’

  He thought he could manage to get to his feet with a bit of help. ‘Jimmy, give me a hand up and I’ll wait in the office. Are you in a rush to get away?’

  ‘The day is yours, my friend.’

  Nigel came out to grab his other arm and he and Jimmy managed to get him on his feet. He had a thumping headache and not only his other arm but his right shoulder was bloody painful – but apart from that he didn’t feel too bad.

  ‘You can let go now, thanks. I can stagger inside on my own.’ He was glad to collapse in one of the chairs. The newspapers had been put back on the shelf. Had Ellie found anything before his mates turned up?

  He took the mug of tea that Nigel had made and nodded his thanks. From where he sat he could see the hangar. There was no sign of Ellie so she must be in there getting the de Havilland ready. There was the throaty sound of the engine and then the nose of the aircraft appeared.

  It was really a two-man job to start this plane, one inside and one turning the propeller. He should have sent Nigel out to give her a hand.

  ‘Miss Simpson said she is a qualified instructor. A bit of an exaggeration, isn’t it? No man worth his salt would agree to be instructed by a woman and especially one as young as her.’ Nigel was old school and thought women should remain in the kitchen.

  ‘She’s a brilliant flyer. Best I’ve ever seen either male or female. She’s been qualified since she was fourteen years old and already has several hundred hours in her log book.’

  ‘If you say so, old chap. Bit smitten with her, are you? Can’t expect you to give me an honest opinion.’

  This man was a total shmuck and he wished Jimmy had found someone else to accompany him. He didn’t trust DeVere not to blab. If he wasn’t incapacitated, he would flatten him.

  Not trusting himself to say anything polite, Jack fixed his attention firmly on Ellie as she expertly taxied onto the strip and then over to the fuel store.

  ‘Jimmy, can you nip out and help Ellie refuel the Tiger Moth? She can do it on her own, but it will be much quicker if you give a hand.’

  ‘We can both go – you need to rest. Doctor’s orders.’ He winked and Jack grinned. His friend wasn’t daft, he’d keep an eye on Ellie for him and see she didn’t lose her temper.

  The phone rang making him slop his tea in his lap. He could reach it from where he was sitting so he carefully picked up the receiver.

  ‘Glebe Aero Club – Reynolds speaking.’

  ‘It’s Mrs Smith. I was that worried when you
didn’t come home last night, Mr Reynolds. I’m sorry if I’ve bothered you but I just wanted to make sure you were all right.’

  His landlady sounded upset and this wasn’t like her. The fact that she’d walked all the way to the telephone box was also distinctly odd.

  ‘Is something wrong, Mrs Smith? I’m absolutely fine – I had a bit too much to drink and thought it better not to turn up the worse for wear so spent the night here.’

  ‘It’s just that there’s been a bit of trouble in the village. A stranger was asking after you and someone told him that you were lodging with me. If it wasn’t for my Bobby I think he might have tried to get in the house.’

  Bobby was her huge, friendly mutt who ran away from the local tomcat – a real pantywaist most of the time. If the dog had been aggressive then the man had definitely been dodgy. He gripped the receiver and a shaft of agony travelled from his arm, across his back and into his damaged shoulder.

  ‘I’m sorry you were frightened because of me. I’ll send someone to collect my things later today. I’ll find somewhere else to live. I think my uncle has got himself into a bit of bother and some lowlife believes I can help them out.’

  ‘I didn’t want to ask you to go, but I think it best. I’ll put everything into your case and have it waiting…’

  ‘Thank you very much. I don’t want a refund for the two weeks I’ve paid for. I’d be grateful if you don’t mention about my uncle to anyone else. I’m going to London to sort things out and you won’t be bothered again.’

  The pips went and she put down the phone with a clatter. He flicked the bar and the operator responded. He prayed that Mr Simpson would be home for lunch and that his wife wouldn’t pick up the phone.

  ‘Glebe Farm,’ a gruff voice said.

  ‘Mr Simpson, Jack Reynolds here. Ellie has invited me to stay with you and I want to check that Mrs Simpson won’t object. I had a bit of an accident last night and…and I’ve got a doctor with me and he needs to put in a few stitches.’

  ‘The wife has gone away for a week or so. You come whenever you want. If my Ellie is happy then it’s all right with me.’

  *

  By the time Ellie had, with the assistance of Jack’s friends, refuelled and completed the pre-flight checks the young man and his girlfriend who were hiring the aircraft for the afternoon rolled up. She managed to complete the paperwork without the man needing to go into the office.

  She watched the de Havilland take off safely. Jimmy – he’d insisted she call him by his first name – spoke from beside her.

  ‘I’m impressed, Ellie. I doubt many young ladies could do what you do. Ignore Nigel, I try to.’

  ‘I’m glad my father’s happy to have Jack stay with us. I was thinking that maybe De Vere could go home in your car and we could use the Austin? You could take that as Jack won’t be using it for a while.’

  ‘Good idea. Sooner the blighter gets on his way the better.’

  His unpleasant companion was more than happy to oblige and drove away immediately. Jack appeared at the office door more or less upright.

  ‘I reckon I can get into the car if I can lean on your shoulder, Jimmy.’

  He managed it but looked very unwell by the time he was slumped on the front seat. ‘You drive, Jimmy, I’ll cycle in front of you. I’ll need my bike to get back here.’

  The office was locked so there was nothing else to do. The brown envelope was burning a hole in her pocket and she was determined to give it to Jack at the earliest opportunity.

  Her father was looking remarkably cheerful considering Mum had abandoned him. When Jack had told her Mum had gone away she had been more relieved than anything else.

  ‘Thank you for agreeing to this, Dad.’

  ‘Happy to, love, not had so much excitement since I was in the trenches.’

  He’d somehow survived the last war but this was the first time he’d mentioned it. No one who had returned from France spoke about their experiences.

  Between Jimmy and her dad they got Jack into the kitchen. Her stomach lurched when she saw what Dad had done. The kitchen table had been cleared and the kettle and a couple of saucepans were simmering on the range.

  ‘I’ll leave you three to get on with things.’

  ‘Don’t you want to help me stitch him up? Then next time you’ll know how to do it yourself,’ Jimmy said.

  She was about to agree when Jack, who was leaning against the table getting his breath back, spoke up. ‘Push off, sweetheart, you’ve done more than enough already.’ He managed a lopsided grin. ‘Isn’t there something domestic you could be getting on with?’

  ‘Cheek! Dad, did you get a room ready for him?’

  ‘No, thought you could do it a lot quicker than me.’

  ‘In which case I’ll do that before I leave. He can go in George’s room.’

  It was a good thing Mum had gone as she would never have allowed Jack to stay. The house seemed calmer, friendlier somehow, without Mum there. She and Dad would manage quite happily without being constantly criticised.

  *

  An hour later she was pedalling furiously in the opposite direction. Jack was safely installed upstairs and Jimmy had driven off in the Austin. Dad said he was happy to clear up the kitchen but he wouldn’t be able to prepare a meal. He was needed for milking as the cowman had a dicky stomach.

  The envelope was now hidden in an old suitcase on top of the wardrobe in Jack’s room. There had been no opportunity to tell him she’d found it as they’d not been alone together. She was sure this was something he didn’t want anyone else to know about.

  She had to get back so she could clean the blood from the wall and floor of the office. She could hardly sign the log book and take the client’s money anywhere else.

  Whilst she was at home she’d changed back into her usual uniform of dungarees and these were ideal for scrambling about on the floor with a bucket of water and scrubbing brush. She stood up and examined her work. There was still a faint stain on both the floor and wall but she doubted anyone would see it unless they were looking. With one of the chairs strategically placed over the damp patch the office was ready.

  With Jack out of action for at least a week she would have to cancel a few of the bookings. Some of the new clients didn’t want to be taught by a girl so postponed their lessons until Jack was likely to be back. The others she fitted in around her own schedule. This meant she would be working longer hours, including the weekend.

  Someone would have to do the domestic chores and prepare the meals for the invalid, as well as the three farm labourers and her dad. It would have to be a woman who wouldn’t gossip, someone who needed a bit of extra cash.

  On the way home she would call in and speak to Mrs Branston, recently widowed and finding it hard to make ends meet. Mrs B lived on the edge of the village in a cottage owned by her dad. He’d suspended her rent indefinitely so there was no danger of her being turned out of her home. Mrs B would jump at the chance to help the family and would keep anything she heard or saw to herself.

  Her mission was successful and she arrived home in good spirits. Fortunately, it wasn’t late and she had plenty of time to prepare something for the evening meal. One of the benefits of living on a mixed farm was that there was always a fully stocked larder.

  From the lowing and mooing coming from the cowshed Dad was in there doing the milking. The farm labourers went home for their tea so she only had to make food for the three of them.

  As soon as she got in she dashed upstairs and knocked on Jack’s door. He called out for her to come in and she pushed it open. He was sitting up in bed reading a newspaper and apart from being a bit pale looked surprisingly well.

  ‘I’m just going to wash and change and will then be getting on with supper. Would you like a cup of tea or something to be going on with?’

  ‘Come in and shut the door. I’ve more important things on my mind than a hot drink.’

  *

  Ellie looked a bit put out at hi
s abrupt tone but for once didn’t argue the toss. ‘Did you find what you were looking for?’

  She pointed to a battered suitcase on top of the wardrobe. ‘I did, and I put the envelope in there. Do you want to read it?’

  ‘No – absolutely not. I take it you didn’t open it.’ She shook her head. ‘The less either of us know about this the better. Jimmy said I’m to stay put the rest of today but can potter about downstairs tomorrow. I’ll need to use your telephone.’

  ‘That might be a bit tricky. I’ve taken on Mrs Branston from the village to act as housekeeper until my mother comes home.’

  ‘Bloody hell! Does that mean she’ll be here all day?’

  ‘I’m afraid it does. She’s starting at six to make Dad’s breakfast, then she’ll do a hot meal for lunchtime. I suppose I could suggest that she goes home for a couple of hours after that and then comes back to make supper for us all.’

  ‘If you don’t mind, that would be great. I can’t risk anyone overhearing my conversations.’ She waited as if expecting him to tell her more. ‘I’m going to ring my uncle and tell him I’ve got the envelope. It’s up to him to contact whoever is looking for it and no doubt they’ll let me know what to do next.’

  ‘And what if Joe’s already in custody? I’m sure your aunt won’t know anything about it. What will you do then?’

  ‘God knows! I can hardly post an advert in The Daily Sketch…’

  ‘I don’t see why not. Everybody reads a newspaper, although I’m not sure The Daily Sketch is the best one in the circumstances.’

  ‘The newspapers on the shelf – can you remember what was in the pile?

  ‘Mainly Evening Standards, Daily Sketches and Expresses. It would be a lot cheaper to put a personal ad in an evening paper –they were full of them. We need to think of the wording and, as we don’t know the name of the man we want to contact, that’s going to be difficult.’