by Molly Green
‘You look like you’re thinking dark thoughts. It doesn’t pay, you know.’
Audrey’s deeply husky voice – coated with tobacco, no doubt – jolted her. The woman wouldn’t know how close she was to what Raine was thinking. Raine gave a slight smile and a shrug but didn’t comment.
‘Okay, Raine,’ Audrey said, ‘I need your help to get the undercarriage up. You’ve not flown an Anson and they can be tricky.’
We’ve probably only got our pilot’s wings in common, Raine thought as they worked together to retract the undercarriage. That was the trouble. She’d always had difficulty making friends. Too acerbic, Maman told her more than once; too self-important – not an appealing trait. Was that really how others saw her?
‘You okay?’ Audrey enquired after some minutes.
‘I am now,’ Raine said. ‘Never happier than when I’m in the air – but I had a bit of a row with my mother before I left home.’
‘Oh, dear. What about? Coming back to the station?’
‘How on earth did you guess?’
‘Stands to reason. She’s lost her husband. Now she feels she’s losing her daughter. She probably thinks there’s a good chance you’ll be killed on the job and she’ll have lost both of you. And she’s not a million miles away from the truth, let’s face it.’
Raine sat quietly, thinking over Audrey’s words. They seemed to make sense. How could a stranger possibly have such insight into a woman she’d never met?
‘I’m right, aren’t I?’
‘I don’t know. I hadn’t thought of it like that. But I suppose you could be.’
‘Is she on her own now?’ Audrey asked.
‘No, she has my two sisters – eighteen and fifteen.’
‘That’s good. It’s awful to think a brand-new widow is sitting at home alone, still shell-shocked.’
‘I shouldn’t have left her the way I did,’ Raine said, guilt pouring over her.
‘Write to her. Sometimes it’s better on paper. Then the person can read it over again. Make sure she’s understood the sentiment.’
‘Thanks, Audrey, I think I’ll take your advice.’ Raine smiled.
She was still going over Audrey’s words about Maman and wondering if Suzanne and Ronnie would cope when Audrey broke in.
‘You’ve gone quiet again.’
‘Oh, I was thinking about what you said about my mother. And the family … you know.’
‘No, I really don’t,’ Audrey said, a touch of bitterness thinning her mouth. ‘My family have washed their hands of me since I told them I’d filed for divorce. I haven’t seen them for two years.’
Raine threw her a look of curiosity. This wasn’t the kind of discussion she’d ever had with any of the other female ferry pilots.
‘Oh, dear. That sounds bad,’ she said, although she was more interested in why Audrey had wanted a divorce rather than commiserating with her that her parents had turned their backs on her.
‘He was a humbug,’ Audrey said with feeling. ‘He never told me before we were married that he preferred men.’
Raine gasped. She’d heard, vaguely, of these kinds of men, but she’d never met one, as far as she knew. Hearing that one of them was actually a married man was surprising.
‘I had no idea when I first met him because he swept me off my feet. My parents adored him, mainly because he was rich and titled – oh, and very good-looking – and they never stopped telling me how lucky I was to make such a catch. I never told them about his preferences, even when I said I was going to sue him for a divorce. Ugh.’ She shuddered. ‘And I hated being called Lady Armstrong. I wasn’t interested in flower arranging in the local church and raising money for charities through baking cakes and flogging them. So when the war started it was a marvellous excuse to join up.
‘I applied to join the WAAFs and Leonard was furious. He wanted me to start a family. No fear. Thank goodness Hitler put paid to that. The only decent thing that megalomaniac did.’ She gave a mirthless laugh, then a narrowed glance at Raine. ‘Oh, I can tell what you’re thinking. I’ve just told you Leonard was keen to start a family when he preferred men. He could still get it up for me and it was his way of appearing normal – whatever that means.’ She broke off and laughed at Raine’s sudden flush. ‘Oh, don’t tell me you’ve never done it,’ she said. ‘How old are you?’ Without waiting for a reply, she continued, ‘Anyway, if I’d had children, it would have convinced the navy that he wasn’t “one of those” because he had a wife and two adorable children at home.
‘But I wasn’t about to stay at home with a couple of snivelling kids while the rest of the world was bombing one another to Timbuktu. I needed to be in on the action.’
Raine listened, fascinated. She could only relate to that last bit.
‘But you still wear your wedding ring,’ she ventured.
‘That’s true,’ Audrey agreed, glancing down at it. ‘I told myself I’d wear it until the divorce came through. It’s due in a couple of months, so they say. But the ring has its uses – it stops the men from pestering me.’
Seeing Audrey at close quarters, Raine had to admit she was an extremely attractive woman with her swept-up hair, almost black, and generously painted lips. Yes, the men would like her, all right – and Audrey knew it.
To stop herself from staring, Raine said, ‘When did you become a pilot?’
‘I began flying rather later than most of the ATA girls,’ Audrey said. ‘I was in my early twenties. It was a hobby at first until I realised when war was declared that I could be of some use. I tried the ATA, but I’m sure you know they took their time admitting women, though it was bound to happen sooner or later when so many of our boys were being shot down. I kept applying every six months and eventually they gave in, and here I am.’ She gave Raine a twisted smile. ‘Enough about me. What made you decide to be a pilot?’
Raine couldn’t help admiring the guts of the woman. Somehow her own story having to move to a smaller house because her father had been foolish with his money didn’t sound nearly as dramatic.
‘I wanted to learn since I was fourteen,’ she answered, ‘when my father took me to watch the aerobatics in Cobham’s Flying Circus – in Kent,’ she added.
‘They were marvellous, weren’t they?’ Audrey said, beaming. ‘I’d already got my pilot’s licence and was one of the few females who actually took part in it.’
‘Really?’ Raine was impressed. ‘You might have been performing when I was watching that day – in West Malling.’
‘I’ve flown many times at West Malling so I may well have done.’ Audrey glanced at her. ‘So how did you come to be in the ATA?’
‘I had a letter from a pilot – who’s become a close friend. He taught me to fly. He joined the RAF as a fighter pilot but he knew flying was my life and told me about the ATA. At that time they were only taking highly experienced women, so I didn’t get in. But a few months later I had a letter from Pauline Gower to go and see her if I was still interested. So I did.’
‘Do you still hear from your friend?’ Audrey asked.
Raine nodded. ‘Yes, but only occasionally. I worry about him, though.’
‘We might as well face it that we’re all doing dangerous work,’ Audrey said. ‘I expect he worries about you just as much.’
Raine smiled. ‘I suppose he does. Well, we just have to get on with it. The awful thing is, if there hadn’t been a war I wouldn’t be doing what I love most, because my father wasn’t able to pay for flying lessons for me when I left school.’
‘This close friend – are you in love with him?’
Raine pulled up with a start. ‘Doug?’ Somehow she didn’t mind Audrey asking the question. ‘He’s a few years older than me, although it doesn’t seem such a gap now I’m working. I suppose I look upon him as an older brother. And he’s always treated me like a kid sister.’
‘Hmm. I bet he has a different view from you,’ Audrey remarked with a knowing wink. She glanced at the map. ‘Right.
We should be approaching White Waltham pretty soon now. But I’m enjoying the conversation.’ She turned to look at Raine. ‘Any other chap in your life?’
There was Alec Marshall, flashing like a beacon in front of her.
‘Not really,’ Raine replied. She didn’t want to discuss Alec with Audrey, or anyone else, for that matter.
‘The hesitation means there is someone,’ Audrey teased. ‘Enjoy yourself while you can, is my motto, and that’s even more crucial with this war on. You could be here today and gone tomorrow.’
It was a chilling thought.
The Anson began its descent to White Waltham, and with all the banging and clattering of the undercarriage being let down, Raine was saved from having to say more.
‘Nice to chat to another woman,’ Audrey called, the wind catching her words as they walked together to the admin building. ‘The chaps don’t always take me seriously.’
I’m not surprised, Raine thought, hiding a smile.
‘Well, I’ll see you back at Hatfield,’ Audrey said. ‘I’ve got a Typhoon to deliver and I’m not much looking forward to it. They haven’t got the best reputation in the world.’
‘Good luck,’ Raine said.
Audrey was a fascinating character. It might be fun to get to know her better.
Raine showed her chit to one of the engineers. He looked at it and shook his head.
‘No, we haven’t got a Hawker Hart to be delivered,’ he said. ‘But we do have a Hawker Hind that needs to be ferried to Silloth.’
Raine caught her breath. She knew the Hawker Hind had a much more powerful engine than the Hart. That particular plane would already be a big step up from the Moth, but this one would leave them both standing. She swallowed. She could do it. Of course she could, though not only was it a much more powerful plane, it would also be her longest flight by far.
For Lucinda Morris, who had many more flying hours and had flown a variety of aircraft, the Hawker Hind wouldn’t have been a problem. But Lucinda was grounded with her cold and it was now up to Raine. She drew in a deep breath. Pauline trusted her to do a good job.
The same engineer accompanied her across the airfield. Her heart beat hard as she approached the biplane. It was a beautiful aircraft and, as she expected, much bigger than the Moth.
‘Can you point out anything I need to know?’ Raine asked, hoping he hadn’t heard her voice wobble.
The engineer showed her how to use the mixture lever for the boost. Then, to her consternation, he looked at her and added, ‘You’ll find the radiator shutter tricky when you want to raise or lower it. This is the ratchet wheel,’ he pointed to it, ‘and to move it you have to reach right down and grab a handful and pull it back. Bad design, in my opinion, ’cos not only is it bloody heavy to work – especially for a woman – it’s in the wrong position to get hold of in the first place. But at least your feet won’t get cold.’ He looked at her. ‘I take it you’ve never flown one of these.’
‘Well, no, but—’
He nodded as if to confirm her reply. ‘That’s only one of the reasons why I don’t believe in letting women fly these fighters.’
His last comment was enough for Raine. It sparked her into action. She gave him a confident smile.
‘Thanks for the warning. I’ll certainly look out for the pesky radiator shutter.’
A doubtful expression crossed his face.
‘Good luck. You’ve got reasonable weather now, at least, though I hear it’s going to get worse the further north you go.’
Chapter Twenty
Her stomach still in knots from anxiety in trying to cope with the blasted radiator shutter that had behaved just as badly as she’d been warned, Raine pulled off her flying helmet and tore the rubber band from her hair, shaking it loose. After grabbing her flight bag she climbed out of the aircraft, almost slipping on the wet wing. Two ground crew ran towards her, shining thin beams of light from the torches they held against the dense fog.
‘Good God, it’s a woman!’ the taller one exclaimed. ‘We’re not expecting you, are we, love?’ His voice rose in a question. ‘Especially in this pea-souper.’
‘No, not here.’ Raine smiled. ‘I was supposed to deliver the Hind to Silloth but visibility was bad after only half an hour or so. I couldn’t make out where I was going. I thought if I could see a clear landing spot on any airfield I’d come down … wherever it was.’
‘Do you know where you are?’
‘I haven’t a clue.’ She smiled at them.
The two men chuckled. ‘You’ve landed at Croughton,’ the other man, short and tubby, said.
‘No idea where that is.’
‘Just north of Oxford.’
Raine tutted. ‘Oh, dear. I didn’t get very far, did I?’
The men shook their heads, their meaning clear that they weren’t at all surprised she’d got lost. Raine could almost hear them thinking, What do you expect from women pilots.
‘Where’s your chute?’
‘Damn. I left it in the plane. I’m not thinking straight.’ She gave a weak smile. ‘The weather wasn’t the best.’ She made towards the aircraft, thoroughly annoyed with herself.
‘Let me.’ Tubby ran over to the plane. He was back in no time with the parachute slung over his shoulder.
‘Come with us and I’ll show you where the office is … and the mess. You look like you could do with a drink.’
‘I could murder a cup of tea.’
‘Nothing stronger?’ The taller one winked.
‘No need. Everything seems better with a cup of tea,’ she laughed. ‘But I can find my own way, honestly. I’ll just listen for the clanking cups.’
‘We wouldn’t dream of it, would we, Eddie?’ the taller one said. He turned to Raine. ‘You go with Eddie and I’ll start checking the plane.’
After she’d signed a copy of her chit and filled out the delivery report, making a note of the thick fog being the reason why she hadn’t made it to Silloth, Eddie showed her where she could dump her parachute.
‘Now I’ll show you the officers’ mess,’ he said.
It had begun to drizzle now but at least the fog looked as though it might be clearing.
Eddie pointed to a low white building. ‘Over there,’ he said, turning to her. ‘And don’t even think of going up again until this lot lifts.’
‘Believe me, I have no intention of doing so.’
Inside the building was the usual rowdy atmosphere, everyone talking at once. She looked over to a small table in the corner. It was actually empty. Keeping her eyes on it, she walked over and dumped her flight bag and parachute on one of the two chairs, out of normal vision unless anyone came closer. If they did, they’d see the table was occupied.
There was a long queue. By the time she got to the counter a full twenty minutes had passed. She glanced under the glass at the food. A sandwich would do the trick.
‘What can I get you, luv?’ the woman behind the counter asked.
‘An egg sandwich, please, and a cup of tea.’
The woman busied herself setting the sandwich on a plate and taking a cup and saucer from the overloaded shelf. She poured a cup of tea from the enormous enamel teapot.
‘Thank you.’ Raine took the tray and paused a second to take a sip of the stewed-looking tea, then made for her table.
Only it was no longer her table.
To her intense irritation a figure with his back to her was already seated. There was little she could do – the mess was becoming busier by the minute. All she wanted was a bit of peace.
She hadn’t been prepared for the surge of power from the Hawker Hind, for a start. And that damned radiator. Thank goodness the flight engineer had warned her. For a few heart-stopping moments she’d struggled, but somehow she’d managed.
She took a steadying breath as she neared the table. The aircraft would be familiar on a second go and if the weather improved she could deliver it to Silloth tomorrow.
As she set her tray on the ta
ble in a deliberate fashion, the man seated shot to his feet.
‘Oh, I am sorry. I thought the table was empty until I saw the bag …’ He eyed her for a few seconds. ‘And then it was too late. No other seats left.’ Impatiently, he used his fingers to flick back a lock of shiny brown hair that had fallen forward. ‘Though I am glad this was the only table.’ He gave her an appreciative smile, showing strong white teeth.
She glanced at his wings. A fellow pilot in RAF uniform, but he wasn’t English. He had a charming accent – Polish? She was too tired to enquire. She didn’t feel like talking. All she wanted to do was sit quietly and try to blank out the cacophony going on around her. If only she was back at her own station. She picked up one of the sandwiches, then put it back on the plate untouched. Suddenly the thought of food made her feel nauseous.
‘I won’t talk, if you prefer?’ His voice broke into her thoughts.
She gave a start. She’d almost forgotten him.
‘No, no, it’s all right. I’m sorry. I must seem awfully rude. It’s just that …’ She stopped and pulled in a deep breath.
‘Was it a rough flight?’
‘The weather wasn’t the only problem.’ Raine looked into his brown eyes. He’d laugh if she told him her initial panic with the radiator, thinking – even if he didn’t say it – that it was because she was a weak woman with no business to be flying such a machine. She wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction.
‘It’s all right. We all have difficult flights one time or another. Sometimes it helps to talk, and sometimes you just want to forget and be grateful you find your way out of whatever the difficulty …’ he hesitated, ‘or the danger. And if I do not want to talk, I find music helps me more than anything. Unfortunately, I must leave my piano in my country. It is a little too big to carry.’
