by Molly Green
Her father patted her hand. ‘Enough, Raine. I’ve told you I’ll speak to her.’
‘No, I will not permit Lorraine to take lessons for flying.’ Simone’s voice rose.
When Raine had decided to go by the name she called herself when she was little – she couldn’t pronounce ‘Lorraine’ – her father had immediately humoured her, except when he was displeased. But her mother had simply ignored her request, telling her she was quite ridiculous to give up her lovely French name. And no amount of foot-stamping by the little girl would alter her mother’s attitude.
Now, in the sitting room, her parents were talking about her as though she wasn’t there. Raine pressed her lips together. She was old enough to be treated as an adult. She could make her own decisions. They must see how important it was for her.
‘Why won’t you?’ Raine demanded.
Her mother swung round, her eyes darkening with anger.
‘Because I say so.’
‘That’s not good enough, Maman,’ Raine said, pushing down her fury and speaking in a measured tone. If she showed any childish sign, her mother would leap on it. She knew that from past experience.
‘You had better explain to her, Robert.’ Simone gave a theatrical sigh and turned on her husband, her tone cool. ‘I’m going to take a headache pill and have a lie-down.’
‘I know we can afford it,’ Raine said when her mother had left the room. ‘And I’ll scream if Maman says one more time how dangerous it is. It’s no more dangerous than skiing and everyone does that without even thinking about it.’
‘Sit down, Raine. I’m afraid I have something to tell you, which your mother and I have tried to keep to ourselves rather than upset you girls.’
Raine perched on one of the leather armchairs, leaning forward. What on earth was coming? Her father drew his eyebrows together as he did when he had something important to say. She braced herself.
‘I’m glad we were able to give you and Suzanne a good education, darling, but we won’t be able to do the same for Ronnie.’
What’s he talking about? Oh, of course.
She breathed out. ‘Ronnie’s the first to admit she’s not brainy,’ Raine said, ‘so it would probably be wasted on her anyway.’
‘No education is ever wasted,’ her father reprimanded. ‘It’s not that at all. Ronnie deserves the same education as her sisters. But I won’t beat about the bush. You’re old enough to know the truth.’ He looked directly at Raine. ‘I’m afraid I’ve lost quite a lot of money.’
Raine gazed at her father in horror.
‘How?’
Her father wouldn’t meet her eye.
‘I don’t want to go into it at the moment,’ he said flatly. ‘Just take it from me that flying lessons are out of the question for the time being. So please don’t mention it again.’
‘What about Maman …?’ Raine said desperately. ‘Hasn’t she got some money of her own?’
‘She has a little tucked away and that’s what I was hoping she might use. I’ve tried hard to persuade her on your behalf, but she’s completely against women flying … especially her daughter. She maintains it’s not feminine. That it’s too dangerous. She’s terrified something bad will happen to you. It’s a man’s job, she says. I must say I don’t totally disagree, though I think you’d probably be an exception.’
Rage stuck in Raine’s throat. Anger for her father for being foolish enough to lose his money and not strong enough to stand up to his adored wife who had independent means. Fury with her mother for being so narrow-minded and not understanding how learning to fly meant everything in the world to her.
She had a sudden thought and managed to swallow before she spoke. ‘Are we going bankrupt?’
Her father sighed. ‘No. Your mother won’t allow that to happen. But we’re going to have to move to a smaller house.’
The shock almost sent her reeling.
‘But I like living here.’
She couldn’t bear the idea of leaving. Leaving their beautiful Edwardian house in the enormous garden full of trees and flowers with lawn stretching for what seemed like miles when they were children. Where she and her sisters had played hide-and-seek, where they’d kept chickens for years until one day the fox got them. Tender-hearted Suzanne, who refused to eat the chicken Maman had subsequently served, had cried for days until her father built a stronger coop and bought another clutch of hens from the local farmer.
Raine’s heart beat furiously.
‘I’m afraid it’s not up to you, Raine.’
‘It sounds like you and Maman have everything already planned,’ Raine said, not bothering to disguise the bitter edge to her words. ‘Where will we go … and when do we have to leave here?’
‘A family have been to see the house and made an offer. It’s a fair one and will get us out of debt. But there won’t be much over – we’ll have to rent somewhere.’
‘And then what will happen to us?’
‘We’ll be all right so long as we’re careful. You might have to share a bedroom with your sister. And flying lessons, I’m afraid, can’t come into it. You’re nearly an adult.’ He regarded her as though he still couldn’t believe it and shook his head. ‘You should seriously be thinking about a vocation.’
‘What if there’s a war? Everyone talks about it all the time. Another one with Germany. They said as much on Pathé News last night when Sally and I went to the cinema.’
‘I don’t think it will happen,’ her father said, his eyes sad. ‘People haven’t forgotten the last war, a war to end all wars, and Mr Chamberlain secured the current peace treaty when he went to Munich last year.’
‘But a piece of paper doesn’t necessarily mean anything if Hitler’s mad enough,’ Raine argued, ‘and if I was a pilot—’
‘They’d never allow girls … women … to fly,’ her father interrupted. ‘Look at the RAF. They don’t even have a women’s section, let alone women pilots. You’re wasting your time. And you wouldn’t be able to take the discipline, even if they did. Believe me, Raine, I know you better than you know yourself.’ He paused. ‘But I also know something else about you. You’re a very determined young woman. If it’s your heart’s desire and you really want to learn to fly, you’ll find a way to pay for the lessons yourself.’
Raine threw him a long hard look and without another word, leapt up and marched out of the door, slamming it behind her, ignoring his order to come back. She went up to her room, the room she’d had to herself since she was twelve. Her mother had actually allowed her to choose the paint colour and curtain material and even the rug. Would she miss all that? No. She wasn’t sentimental about the house. Not like Suzanne. Raine loved changes, challenges, variety. No, it was because she couldn’t bear the thought of the humiliation. Her father’s humiliation and the family’s.
She sat on the edge of the bed and put her hands to her face. Simply being in her room gave her the privacy she craved. Sharing with one of her sisters? Unthinkable. Her chest coiled as tight as a jack-in-the-box and she was ready to lash out at anyone.
She went over every word of the conversation with her father. Why wouldn’t he tell her how he’d lost a load of money? She supposed he was too embarrassed to talk about it. Or her mother had forbidden him to tell her the truth. And there were two other questions he hadn’t answered: when they were moving and where.
Beaten, she burst into tears.
Chapter Two
March 1939
The night before the move Raine heard Suzanne crying through the wall of her bedroom next door. She sprang out of bed and rushed into her sister’s room.
‘Come on, Suzy.’ She put her arm around the shaking shoulders. ‘Come on – don’t take on so.’
‘I can’t bear to leave,’ Suzanne sobbed, the words muffled in her pillow.
‘We’ve got to put up with it,’ Raine said. ‘Dad will get his bills paid off.’ She smiled at her sister, though she didn’t particularly feel like smiling. ‘It won’t
be all bad.’
‘But we’re moving miles away … to some village I’ve hardly heard of … away from everyone we know.’
‘You haven’t been concentrating in your history lessons.’ Raine gave her sister’s shoulders a little shake. ‘Downe is where Charles Darwin lived. It might be interesting to see his house. And if you look on the map you’ll see that Bromley isn’t far. There’ll be a bus from the village, so there’s no need to worry about your music lessons—’
‘I’ll have to give them up,’ Suzanne interrupted as she sat up on the bed and sniffed.
‘Why do you say that?’
‘How can Maman and Dad afford them?’
‘They can because Maman has her own money. She won’t let you go without your lessons. That comes before food on the table as far as she’s concerned.’
Suzanne narrowed her eyes. ‘Why would she do that when you’re not allowed to have flying lessons – and you’re the eldest?’
‘There’s only enough for one luxury and you’re the favourite.’
‘Course I’m not.’
‘You are. Always have been. And you’re jolly lucky Ronnie and I don’t hate you for it.’ Suzanne opened her mouth to protest but Raine stopped her. ‘You’re the one who’s really talented. You know Maman’s mania for culture.’ She caught her sister’s eye. ‘Not that we don’t all appreciate your pathetic squeakings on the violin, over and over and over …’ She chuckled and Suzanne giggled.
‘Do I really sound that bad?’
‘Yes,’ Raine said, still laughing, ‘but we’re willing to put up with it because you’ll be famous one day, and we’ll come and watch you perform – and brag to anyone who’ll listen how clever you are.’
Suzanne’s eyes shone with tears. ‘If only that dream would happen one day, but it’s like you wanting to be a pilot. Professional orchestras still refuse to take women – unless you’re a harpist. And even when that miracle happens, you’re kept out of sight in the wings. They don’t even put your name on the programme.’
Raine grimaced. ‘Same old story.’ She looked at her sister. ‘But it doesn’t mean to say it’s impossible, Suzy. We’ll both have to work extra hard to show the men we’re as good, if not better, than they are. We have to keep badgering those in charge until they can’t refuse us. Until then you need to buck up. The sooner we get moved, the sooner we can get on with our lives.’
‘It’s all right for you. You’re much braver than me. I could never argue like you.’
‘You have to learn to do it with a smile,’ Raine said seriously. ‘Act like mad. Be as charming as you can. It’s the only way.’ She looked at her sister. ‘You’ve got just as much determination as me, Suzy, with the way you focus on your music. You’re stronger than you realise.’ Raine gave her sister a hug.
Suzanne reached for her handkerchief underneath her pillow and blew her nose.
‘That’s better,’ Raine said. ‘We have to make the best of it. Look, I don’t want to go any more than you do.’
She knew she wasn’t being entirely truthful with her sister. At first she hadn’t wanted to leave her familiar home, but the moment her father had told her they were moving to Downe her heart had leapt. Not only was it a short bus ride into Bromley, but she’d also discovered it was just a hop and a skip to Biggin Hill where there was a major aerodrome. According to the scale of the map, she’d quickly worked out that the house they were to rent was a mere four-mile cycle ride away. Perhaps her dream was closer to coming true.
A fortnight later …
Every Saturday morning before her mother had risen, Raine cycled from her new home, a semi-detached cottage in Downe, to Biggin Hill. She hung around the aerodrome watching, breathing in the atmosphere, loving every minute. In the early morning all was silent except for an occasional plane coming in to land or taking off, muffling any birdsong. She could think herself into another world, concentrate on its sound, the thrum of the engine, the glamour of the pilot when he stepped down from the open cockpit in his flying suit and whipped off his helmet.
One day that will be me, she told herself.
She’d been a member of the library in Bromley since she was a child, and on her last visit she’d found a book with photographs and descriptions of different aircraft, devouring it with far more enthusiasm than she’d ever done with her homework. Now, standing at the edge of the aerodrome, looking over the gate, she took great delight in recognising them and ticking them off in her notebook, committing them to memory.
This morning she was here particularly early when a man pulled up in his car. He leaned out of the window and smiled. She noticed his eyes, as blue as a summer sky.
‘Hello, there. Want a lift over there so you can see the planes closer up?’
Her heart soared. ‘Oh, yes, please … if you’re sure it’s no trouble.’
‘None whatsoever.’ He smiled again. ‘Jump in, then. Name’s Douglas White. You can call me Doug.’
‘Raine Linfoot.’ She held out her hand and he shook it.
She looked at him with interest. Chestnut hair, nice open face, and wore his uniform with an air of sophistication. Maybe mid-twenties. Too bad he was too old for her. She hid a smile.
‘I’ve seen you hanging around,’ he said as he put the gear into first. ‘Do you fancy having a spin in my plane?’ He turned to her and grinned.
‘Oh, yes, please,’ she said again. ‘Is it really your own aeroplane?’
‘Well, I rent it. I shouldn’t really be doing this,’ he added as they strolled towards the Tiger Moth, Raine’s heart threatening to burst out of her chest. ‘But no one’s here this early except Bob, one of the mechanics. We need him to swing the prop. We’ll just give it twenty minutes, all right?’ He tilted his head. She noted he was actually very good-looking. ‘How old are you, anyway?’
‘Eighteen.’ Only a small fib.
‘Ever been up?’
‘Only once, a few years ago – at Cobham’s Flying Circus.’
‘Were you sick?’
‘No.’
Doug chuckled. ‘Long as you’re not sick in my plane. If you are, you’ll have to clear it up.’ He turned as one of the ground crew called to him.
‘Having an early morning spin, sir?’
‘Morning, Bob. Thought I’d take her up for a few minutes to show this young lady who wants to learn about planes.’
Bob looked doubtful as he lifted his cap to Raine. ‘Righto, sir … miss. I’ll get you started.’
Doug strapped her into the seat of the open cockpit and she felt him take the seat behind her. He handed her a very worn leather flying helmet, but she was so nervous she couldn’t find the strap.
Feeling an idiot, she twisted round to face him. ‘I can’t seem to get this on.’
In seconds her helmet was secure, which did nothing to still her heart, pulsing madly against her ribs. She’d soon be up in the clouds again. It felt a long time since that first flight.
‘Put these on as well.’ He handed her a pair of goggles.
Almost before she’d adjusted them, Doug called out, ‘Contact,’ and Bob swung the propeller.
The engine burst into life and after waiting a few moments, presumably to warm it, Doug signalled to Bob and shouted, ‘Chocks away.’
She saw Bob grab two lengths of rope and jerk the wedges out from under the wheels, then jump smartly out of the way.
A short run and they were airborne, the shock of the cold early morning slapping her face. She was in heaven. She giggled at the thought. She was probably about as close to heaven as she’d ever get. And when she saw the clouds floating above her, looking like candyfloss, and the sun just beginning to show on the horizon, she shouted with joy. She looked this way and that, noticing how the fields below reminded her of Grandma Linfoot’s patchwork quilts, interspersed with doll’s houses – at least that’s what they looked like from her view. Raine pinched herself, happier than she’d ever been since that first flight with Cobham’s Circus.
‘How did you like the slow roll?’ he asked as he helped her from the cockpit.
‘I was too scared to scream. But then I wanted you to do it again.’
‘Didn’t think I’d better under the circumstances,’ Doug chuckled. ‘Maybe next time.’
There’d be a next time. Her heart, which had just settled back to normal, began to pound again.
He was looking at her. She liked the way his blue eyes twinkled.
‘Do you want to go up again?’
‘What, now?’
He laughed. ‘I don’t mean now. I’ve got work to do. But if I see you hanging around again and it’s early enough, we’ll see. For now, let’s get you back.’
This was her chance to tell someone who would understand, she thought, as they approached the gate.
‘What I really want to do is to train to be a pilot … but my parents can’t afford lessons.’ Oh, how she hated admitting that. ‘I need a job,’ she added quickly, hoping he would see she was trying to be independent.
She was gratified that Doug didn’t roll his eyes when she’d mentioned being a pilot.
‘What are you intending to do now, then?’ he said.
‘My dad wants me to be an accountant. Just because I’m good at mathematics and because he’s one, he’s decided it’s a natural choice.’
‘And your mother? What does she say?’
‘Maman?’ Raine grimaced. ‘All she wants is for me to make a good marriage.’
‘Hmm. But you don’t want that.’
‘Definitely not. I want to see something of the world first. But until then I only want to learn to fly. And if there’s a war—’
‘We won’t mention any war,’ he cut in. He looked at her thoughtfully. ‘What about if I put in a word for you? Maybe get you a job over here. Clerk or general dogsbody or something. Nothing glamorous but the good thing is, you wouldn’t be far from Hart’s Flying Club. They rent a small airfield and stick mainly to biplanes, but that’d be perfect for you … and I’m one of their instructors.’
