by Molly Green
Immediately, her heart lifted. She felt lighter. Not that bad for a first time. She turned to him. ‘Do you think I’ll really improve with practice?’
‘No, you’ll never make it.’
Her face crumpled.
‘Don’t be a goose,’ he said, giving her a playful chuck under her chin. ‘I was just teasing. You’re going to make an excellent pilot one day – I’ll make sure of it. But until then,’ he looked at her, ‘you need regular lessons. Hartman has suggested once a week, but I’ll try to accelerate them and get you in a couple a week.’
Raine felt her face flood with joy. ‘Will you really, Doug? Oh, that would be marvellous. How many lessons before I can go up on my own?’
‘Solo?’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘You’ve had one lesson. One. With no take-off or landing practice. Don’t run before you can walk. We’ll take it a lesson at a time.’
‘Will you always be my instructor, Doug?’
‘That, I can’t guarantee. Friday is quite a good day for me so I’ll do my best. I’d love to know it was me who trained you.’
‘So would I.’
Raine laughed out loud as she cycled home, her hands off the handlebars, her pedals feeling as light as wings.
Chapter Five
May 1939
Raine felt as though she was leading a double life. It shouldn’t have to be like this, deceiving her mother. She was especially happy when it was her ‘flying day’. But even when it wasn’t and the work was monotonous, she was still blissfully content in her surroundings. It was only when she went home that she felt she didn’t really belong. She only had to walk up the path and a feeling of gloom would sweep over her. But today was different. Today, she could barely contain her excitement.
She knocked on the door, wishing for the dozenth time that her parents would give her a key. For goodness’ sake, I’ll be eighteen next month, she thought. But her mother wouldn’t budge. Maybe when she heard her news, Maman would finally regard her as an adult instead of a wayward child. Raine gave a rueful smile. She might not be twenty-one yet to legally acquire ‘the key of the door’, but surely her mother couldn’t refuse her now.
‘I’ve got something to tell you all,’ Raine said as she glanced round the table at her parents and sisters. She took another bite of her meat pie and looked up to see she had their attention. ‘I hope you’ll be pleased for me, though I haven’t mentioned anything about it before. I didn’t want to until it was definite.’
‘At last! You’ve met a nice young man.’ Her mother’s face was wreathed in smiles, her voice breathy with excitement. ‘When are you going to bring him home? We can’t wait to meet him, can we, Robert?’
‘Why don’t you give Raine a chance to answer?’ her husband said, sending his wife his usual tender look.
‘It’s nothing like that,’ Raine cut in before the conversation took a worse turn. She summoned a wide smile towards her parents and sisters. ‘I went solo today.’
There was a sudden hush. Raine stole a glance at her mother whose fork was frozen in mid-air.
‘What are you talking about?’ her mother said, narrowing her eyes as she put down her fork, the small piece of meat still attached to the prongs.
‘I went up in a Tiger Moth on my own today.’
‘A what?’ Her mother frowned.
‘It’s an aeroplane.’ Raine glanced at her mother whose face was working as though she was trying to control herself.
‘How dare you! You’ve been taking flying lessons without my knowledge.’ Maman’s voice was steel.
‘I dared because I knew you wouldn’t approve.’
‘You were perfectly correct.’ Her mother laid down her knife. ‘How can you afford lessons with the pittance you earn in that office of yours – as a clerk?’ She raised her eyes to the ceiling. ‘Lorraine, who has her head in the clouds.’ She swung back to Raine. ‘Could you really not do something better with your School Certificate, Lorraine? I’m ashamed when people ask me what you are doing now you have left school. That you are a clerk in an office, wasting a fine education.’
‘The work is actually very interesting,’ Raine returned with as cool a smile as she could muster, her thrill at having gone solo still overriding any pettiness from her mother. ‘Especially as the office happens to be at Biggin Hill aerodrome.’
Her mother’s face paled. ‘I did not know that.’
‘Simone,’ her father interrupted, ‘let’s be happy for her. It’s what she’s always wanted to do. And she must be good if her instructor has let her go solo today.’
‘You seem to know much about this, Robert.’ Simone flashed him an accusing glare. ‘You knew all the time. Both of you ’ave betrayed me.’ She gave a sob. ‘My own ’usband and daughter.’
‘It’s hardly a betrayal, Maman,’ Raine said. ‘And you never once asked me what I was doing in my job – you weren’t interested, so I didn’t have to tell you any lies. And I can tell you it’s the best feeling in the world to have – what you call – my head in the clouds.’
Ronnie giggled.
‘Véronique.’ Simone swung round to Ronnie. ‘I am not amused.’
‘Doesn’t Lorraine remind you of someone, darling?’ her father said. ‘If you make up your mind to do something, you always do it. So you can’t be surprised that your eldest daughter has taken after you in that way.’
If it hadn’t been so serious, Raine would have laughed.
Her mother rounded on her father. ‘I am surprised that you encourage her, Robert,’ she said, her mouth thinning in anger. ‘And even more that you did not tell me what my own daughter was up to.’
‘You would only have worried, darling,’ he said soothingly.
It’s not the whole reason, Raine longed to say to her father, but she knew it was useless. Her father would always adore his wife and continue to make excuses for her. Raine sighed.
He turned to her. ‘Well done, Raine. I know you always wanted to be a pilot so I’m happy … we’re all happy for you,’ he added firmly. ‘And to prove it, I’m going to open a bottle of champagne so we can make a toast. It’s the last one but I think the occasion deserves it.’
‘I’m not qualified yet, or anything.’
‘No matter. I won’t be a minute.’
Her father had always kept a few bottles of champagne on one of the slate shelves in the cool of the pantry at the old house – just in case. ‘I like to be ready for any surprise celebration,’ he’d say with a twinkle. Raine’s heart warmed. It was typical of him to bring out his last bottle for her.
‘It’s wonderful news, Raine.’ Suzanne rose from the table and gave her a hug.
‘You are clever,’ Ronnie said, eyes wide with delight. ‘Isn’t she, Maman?’
Raine looked her mother straight in the eye. Maman was leaning back in her chair as though she could no longer support herself. But in her eyes was an expression that made Raine recoil. She could only decipher it as a spark of envy.
‘Here we are.’ Her father came back into the room with the champagne. ‘We’ll have the best glasses, darling,’ he said to her mother.
‘I’ll get them.’ Suzanne jumped up – probably so she didn’t get drawn into the argument, Raine guessed. She watched as her mother took in a deep breath, her chest rising.
Here we go.
‘Lorraine, I have been thinking. Écoute. You remember Mrs Garland who is the proprietor of the beautiful dress shop in the arcade in Bromley? She said she would like to talk to you about working there. I told her you will soon be in your father’s firm, but she said, “Lorraine’s so tall and slim and so very attractive – just the right figure to be a model. She could earn more money than doing sums all day.”’ Her mother gave a tinkly laugh. ‘She said she would be ’appy to train you.’ She looked at Lorraine as though seeing her for the first time and nodded approvingly. ‘She is right, Lorraine, and I want you to think very serious … seriously about it. And do not concern yourself with your father’s wishes. I wil
l persuade him.’ Then immediately her expression hardened. ‘Until then, I will hear no more about flying. You will not continue the lessons.’
‘I don’t think you quite understand, Maman. I’m not interested in selling dresses to dippy girls and vain women. I flew solo today. When I have enough flying hours I can take my test. Become a qualified pilot.’ She rounded on her mother. ‘Maman, can’t you understand that flying means the world to me. It’s the only thing I want to do with my life.’
Her mother’s eyes bored into her. ‘We will see about that.’
Raine realised it was not a bit of good getting on the wrong side of their mother. She held her mother’s glare as many seconds as she could bear, then lowered her eyelids. Best to let her mother think she still had the upper hand.
Suzanne returned with the best champagne glasses, saved from the old house, and set them carefully on the table. Their father popped the cork and filled each glass, handing the first to Raine and the second to his wife. Simone shook her head.
‘I have the ’eadache,’ she said, rising to her feet. ‘You must all celebrate – if that’s what you want to call it – without me.’ Her gaze swept over the table, then settled on Raine. ‘If we go to war with Germany again, your lessons are pointless. As a girl’ – she emphasised the word – ‘you will not be allowed to fly planes in the militaire. Thank goodness there is some sense still in this world.’
Raine looked at her mother’s rigid back as she left the table, then her eyes wandered to her father. He was staring after his wife, but to Raine’s surprise he didn’t follow her as he usually did. She was grateful for that small gesture of solidarity. Having her father’s approval was more than enough.
Chapter Six
July 1939
Raine opened her eyes. They stung, as she’d barely slept a wink while fretting about the morning. And now tomorrow had come and she’d never felt less like taking a plane up. Sighing, she pushed the covers aside and got to her feet. It was still early so with luck she’d have the bathroom to herself for a few minutes.
No sound. No one was up. She shot into the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face, grimacing at the bloodshot eyes, then ran a shallow bath. Swiftly, she put on her rayon briefs and brassière, then tied the cord of her dressing gown firmly around her slim waist and went downstairs.
‘What is the matter, Lorraine?’ her mother asked at the breakfast table. ‘You look as though you have cried all night.’
‘Suzanne kept me awake with her heavy breathing.’
Her mother’s face softened. ‘Poor child. I think she has the sinus problem. You must be patient with her.’
Raine had the grace to feel guilty at such a fib. Suzanne had been as quiet as a mouse. Raine badly wanted to tell her mother she would be taking her pilot’s test this morning, but instead clamped her lips together. It never worked to be excited about anything if her mother wasn’t involved or hadn’t got some kind of control. And if she hoped for her mother to wish her good luck, she knew that was a wasted hope.
After breakfast Raine stepped into her overalls. She’d seen a lovely bright yellow flight suit on one of the other women at Hart’s who was also having lessons and she’d immediately longed for one just like it. But try as she had, she’d never been able to save enough money. Giving her mother ten shillings a week had put a stop to any luxury.
She had to pass. She just had to. Flinging a raincoat over the overalls in case she came face to face with her mother, she slipped out of the door and cycled to Hart’s.
‘You took a gamble last time I watched you,’ Doug reprimanded as they were walking over the airfield towards the planes. ‘You deliberately went into that loop the loop. You were jolly lucky not to have come a cropper. The engine has a reputation of stalling with that manoeuvre. More than one pilot has lost his life by doing that. And you’re even more lucky that I know you, and how good you are, and didn’t send you to the Chief.’ His eyes held a warning. ‘You’re not experienced enough yet to start doing fancy aerobatics, Raine, and the last thing we want is a fatal accident on our hands.
‘These planes are bloody expensive to repair or replace.’ He smiled wryly at her expression. ‘The RAF worries almost as much about the loss of an aircraft as it does the loss of a pilot. So no more showing off in the air. I mean it. Put your own safety first. Stick to observing weather conditions and be sensible as to whether or not you even attempt a flight until bad weather clears, and thoroughly go through the checks. If you do that, you’ll automatically keep both you and the aircraft safe.’
Doug was speaking to her now as though she was a wayward rebellious child. Maybe she was. She stuck out her chin. She’d often dreamed of doing the loop, but that day she’d dared, knowing it was against the rules but also sure that Doug wouldn’t report her. She wouldn’t have missed that feeling of pure liberation for all the world when she’d somersaulted.
‘I promise I won’t try it again,’ she said, trying hard to sound contrite.
Doug threw her a suspicious glance and sighed. ‘It’ll only be a matter of weeks – maybe only days if dear Mr Hitler has his way – and we’re in another world war, but at least you won’t be called upon as a pilot. That should be a comfort to your mother … and to me,’ he added unexpectedly.
‘But it seems such a waste if I can’t use my flying skills just because I’m a woman.’ Raine’s voice rose in indignation. ‘And if the war starts I won’t have a chance to keep up my hours.’
He studied her as though for the first time. ‘You know what, Raine? Even for someone as obstinate as you, there’s no future in flying until things settle down. But there is some news you might not have heard about. The RAF has just formed a section called the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force. There’ll be plenty of jobs to involve you in the various aircraft. I think you’d find something to interest you.’
‘But they won’t allow women pilots,’ Raine said flatly.
‘That’s true.’
‘Then I’m not interested.’
‘I thought that’s what you’d say,’ Doug said. ‘Well, forget it for the moment. I’ll hand you over to the chief flying instructor for your test. In fact, there he is … walking towards us right now.’ He bent his head and kissed her cheek. ‘Good luck, Raine. You have the makings of an excellent pilot. You’ll pass – I’m sure of it.’
Anxious that she had the eyes of the instructor tracing her every movement, Raine carefully carried out all the solo test manoeuvres to the book. Although her landing wasn’t quite as perfect as she would have liked, she didn’t think she’d performed too badly on the whole.
The instructor nodded to her without a hint of whether or not she had made a satisfactory test flight. Instead, he asked her to follow him to his office where he fired questions at her for half an hour, noting down her answers.
‘I think that will be all, Miss Linfoot,’ he said, rising from his desk as her indication to leave.
‘Thank you very much, sir,’ Raine said, willing him to give her an idea as to how she’d performed.
‘You’ll be hearing from the CAG in a fortnight or so.’ He nodded his dismissal.
After what Raine considered was enough time for her licence to arrive – that is, if it was ever going to – she watched for the postman every day before anyone came downstairs.
On day eight she collected the post from the mat. There was one for her mother and one for her – from the Civil Air Guard. With shaking hands she opened it to find a short letter wrapped around her pilot’s licence. This was it. No word of congratulation. But she didn’t need any. She’d passed! Class C – whatever that meant. But whatever it meant, now she was truly a pilot.
Her heart pounded as she remembered Doug’s words about being a comfort to her mother. She didn’t want to be a comfort to anyone. She wanted to play her part if there really was going to be a war. And going by the headlines in her father’s newspaper, the government was preparing for it to happen any day.
Ther
e must be some use for her as a pilot, even if she wasn’t allowed to fight Jerry. But she wouldn’t tell anyone in the family just yet that she had her licence. She’d keep that delicious secret to herself until the time was right. And then she’d show them.
A month later, Friday, 1st September, Germany invaded Poland. Although everyone expected it, it was still a shock to hear such terrifying news. Raine’s second shock was the unexpected announcement at Hart’s that all civil flying had now stopped for the duration of the war. She wouldn’t be able to add to her solo hours. She might even lose her skills. If that wasn’t bad enough, the RAF took over the running of Biggin Hill. She prayed they would let her keep her job at the airfield as a civilian, and decided her best bet was to turn up every day and keep her head down.
Sunday, 3rd September 1939
Every morning and evening her father turned on the wireless to hear the news. Raine had begun to make it a habit to join him in the front room of the cottage. This morning she looked up from the crossword puzzle she was doing in yesterday’s Daily Telegraph, her glance falling on Suzanne who sat nearby on a straight-backed chair clicking her knitting needles. She was making a scarf for Ronnie who refused to listen to the news and was out on her bicycle, even though they’d had thunderstorms in the night. Maman was in the kitchen so it was only Dad, Raine thought, who looked properly attentive. She bent her head over the crossword again, but with her ear cocked for the latest news.
‘At eleven o’clock this morning, on the BBC, the Prime Minister has a serious announcement to make,’ came the clipped tones of the newsreader, startling Raine from her concentration.
‘That’s it, then.’ Her father threw his daughters a look of absolute despair.
‘What is?’ Suzanne stopped knitting, the stripy scarf falling in a heap on her lap.
‘Announcement that we’re at war, do you think, Dad?’ Raine said, biting her lip. She couldn’t believe they were even speculating such a horrifying event, but after Friday’s shocking announcement on the wireless that the Nazis had invaded Poland, it was surely inevitable.
