by Molly Green
The darkness enveloped them. All the buildings and houses opposite had their blackout curtains pulled and the streetlights were covered, providing about as much light as a candle. If only there was a moon. Raine was terrified she would stumble over something and Alec would think she had done it on purpose so he would have to come to her rescue.
For goodness’ sake, Raine, she told herself crossly, you’re behaving as though you’re a heroine in a fairy story. But the next moment Alec turned to her.
‘Here, take my arm,’ he said. ‘I don’t want you to fall over and twist your ankle. I’d have to carry you in and that wouldn’t do at all, would it?’ The corner of his mouth twitched.
Damn. He’d read her thoughts exactly.
‘No, I’d hate that,’ she said lightly as she took his arm.
He flicked on his torch, also covered but allowing a pinprick of light as they made their way carefully towards the restaurant, Alec using the toe of his shoe to feel the edge of the kerb.
Inside, the White Rose was buzzing with chatter. It seemed as though everyone in Chippenham had decided to come out for supper. The owners had put up Christmas decorations to create a festive atmosphere, even though Christmas was still a month away.
‘Your name, sir?’ a waiter came up to them.
‘Marshall.’
He looked at a list. ‘Ah, yes. Table for two. I’ve had to squeeze you into the corner so I hope that will be acceptable to you and the young lady. As you can see, we’re extra busy tonight. But at least you’ll have some privacy.’
Alec raised an eyebrow to Raine.
‘Perfectly acceptable, thank you,’ Raine said, her cheeks a little flushed, smiling at the waiter.
Once they’d sat down another waiter brought them a menu.
‘I’m afraid it’s not the usual variety with the meat rationing,’ he said apologetically as he flicked a cigarette lighter and lit the candle. ‘But I can recommend the baked cod, if you like fish.’
‘Fish sounds lovely,’ Raine said, smiling up at the waiter.
‘And a bottle of champagne,’ Alec said. ‘One you recommend for a special celebration.’
‘In that case, I’d recommend a bottle of Veuve Clicquot, sir.’
Alec nodded. When the waiter disappeared he looked at Raine. ‘I think you’ll approve of that.’
‘It sounds awfully expensive.’
‘We’re celebrating.’
Raine looked at him, her eyes wide. ‘What are we celebrating, exactly?’
‘Thanking you for bringing the Spit. It’ll bring me luck, knowing you were the last one to fly it.’
A quiver ran across Raine’s shoulders. Trying to appear casual, she said, ‘I was only doing my job.’
‘But it was your first Spit, wasn’t it?’
‘How did you know?’
Alec tapped the side of his nose in an annoying manner. ‘Not much slips by me.’
‘No, I mean it. Who told you?’
‘One of the ground crew.’
‘Well, they’ve got no business to …’ Raine started. She caught Alec’s eyes twinkling and burst into laughter. ‘Men never believe a mere female should be flying a Spitfire,’ she spluttered. ‘They think we don’t appreciate its beautiful lines, its perfect control … What they don’t realise is that it’s a very feminine plane – a woman’s plane.’
Alec grinned. ‘The important thing is – did you like it?’
‘I absolutely adored it.’ She hesitated. ‘Just one thing. Did you know it was going to be me delivering the plane, or was it just a coincidence?’
Alec’s eyelashes flickered. ‘I’ll have to admit it. I found out you’d be bringing it today and I managed to get a 24-hour pass. I wanted to see you again – simple as that.’
It didn’t sound simple at all, the trouble he must have gone to. Did he like her more than a little bit? Perhaps it piqued him that she hadn’t been swept off her feet by his attentions. If only she could look into that handsome head of his. See what was going on.
To her relief the waiter interrupted by bringing the champagne in a silver bucket and poured two glasses. He set the bottle back in the ice.
Raine picked up her champagne glass and clinked it with Alec’s. ‘It’s wonderful and very thoughtful of you to celebrate my first flight in a Spit, because it really is something special.’
She brushed the image away of her mother’s frown and took a swallow of champagne, then laughed as the bubbles fizzed in her throat and up her nostrils. Alec laughed, too, then took his napkin to wipe the droplets from the top of her mouth and dabbed her nose.
‘I must look a mess,’ Raine said, desperately trying to ignore a tingly feeling she knew was nothing to do with the champagne bubbles.
‘You look absolutely charming,’ Alec said, his face serious. ‘Beautiful, in fact.’ His eyes held hers.
There was a silence between them. Raine gave an almost imperceptible sigh. The only movement was the faint flicker of the candle from that tiny puff of air, but she was hardly aware of it. All she could concentrate on was the green of Alec’s eyes. She couldn’t drag her own away. Dear God, she had to break the spell. If she didn’t, he would think things that weren’t true … like she was falling in love with him.
‘Raine …’ He put his hand over hers. ‘Are we friends again?’
She nodded. She couldn’t trust herself to speak.
‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes.’ For something to do she eased her hand away and picked up her glass, then took a deep swallow. And another. She needed to calm herself.
‘What did you do to your hand?’
Alec’s question startled her. She put her flute down and glanced at the back of her hand. There was still a faded mark where she’d scalded it.
‘It’s nothing. I spilled some boiling water over it, that’s all.’
Holding her gaze, he gently raised her hand to his mouth and lightly brushed the scar with a kiss.
She was aware of no one but Alec. She wanted that mouth on hers … more than anything in the world at this moment.
For an instant she saw Doug’s face. She’d never felt like this with him. Never. She’d had that crush but this – now – with Alec – was completely different. It mesmerised her and consumed her. His eyes were still fastened on hers as he released her hand and leant across the table to brush a stray lock of hair from her face.
‘You’re so beautiful, Raine. I expect you’ve been told that many times before. But I mustn’t get carried away. You love someone else.’
‘But Doug—’
‘Yes, I know,’ Alec said gently. ‘He might not be alive. But whether he is or isn’t, I think you’re still in love with him. And if you’re honest, you’ll tell me I’m right.’
‘Please, Alec. I don’t want to talk about him. Not in that way.’ Her eyes filled with tears.
‘All right,’ he said, dropping his hand and finishing his wine. He took the bottle and poured them another glass.
‘Is that wise?’ she said. ‘We both have to work tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow may never come.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
Raine turned over in the narrow bed for the hundredth time. She could hear gentle breathing emanating from the temporary cots of the two other women pilots she’d been told to share the room with, but it wasn’t really that keeping her awake – it was Alec. Those green eyes that seemed to read her deepest thoughts and the smile that set them alight, like a mischievous schoolboy. Really, he wasn’t cocky at all when you got to know him. That was all bravado.
She stretched out her legs then wished she hadn’t when one of her calf muscles hardened into cramp. Practically falling out of bed she put her bare feet on the floor and bent down to rub the offending muscle. For a few moments it seemed her rubbing had relaxed it, but the next moment she screwed her face in agony as the muscle cramped again – this time even harder and tighter, making her feel sick. She paced the room, hoping she wouldn’t wake the others, but
they looked as though they were deeply asleep. How she envied them.
As suddenly as it came, the cramp vanished, leaving her leg sore but at least mobile again. She was never going to sleep now. She’d tiptoe down the stairs and make herself a cup of tea.
Back in bed she sat up in the dark, sipping her tea and going over the last part of the evening. It was almost impossible to remember their conversation after he’d told her she was still in love with Doug. He’d been attentive but somehow the magic had shifted. She’d enjoyed watching the shape of his mouth as he said the words, but not taken in the words themselves. What on earth was the matter with her?
He’d asked her about Suzanne and Ronnie, and about her parents. She’d told him about her beloved father and he’d squeezed her hand in sympathy. Then she’d asked about his family, at which point a shadow passed over his face.
‘My parents are alive, but my mother isn’t well,’ he said. ‘Her nerves are in shreds. They live in London, and of course London has taken the brunt of the bombing.’
‘Have you any siblings?’
‘A sister. She used to look up to me. “He’s my big brother,” she’d say to anyone who’d listen. I adored that child.’
‘Oh, Alec, you sound as though something awful happened to her.’ Without thinking she took hold of his hand and pressed it.
He shook his head. ‘She died of flu soon after the First World War. She was only four. I was six. It was a terrible time. I couldn’t stop crying and kept asking my mother when she was coming back.’ His eyes filled at the memory, as if it had happened just yesterday.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Raine said, keeping hold of his hand. ‘I can’t imagine not having my sisters. Oh, we have our ups and downs, but we really love each other and would do anything in the world for one another.’
She hoped she wasn’t sounding overly sentimental, but Alec nodded.
‘Make sure you always keep it that way,’ he said.
The night drew to a close far too soon.
‘We should go,’ he said. ‘It’s late.’
‘I’ve enjoyed this evening so much.’ Raine swallowed the last few drops of the creamy vanilla-tasting champagne. ‘And thank you for making this evening so …’ She hesitated, searching for the right word. ‘So special.’
‘It was already special as soon as I saw you in the office,’ Alec said.
Neither of them said a word in the taxi back to the station, but Alec took her hand, pulled off her glove, and kept her hand firmly in his own warm one.
‘I’ll say goodnight, then,’ he said when the taxi disappeared from view.
Would this evening end just like that? Raine lowered her eyelids, not daring to look at him. Her nerves were taut. If they stretched a tiny fraction further she would fall to pieces. She wanted this man in every single way, so much so that the idea of it almost unbalanced her. She needed to get away before he guessed and before she embarrassed them both. Then she felt his finger tilt her chin upwards. He was going to kiss her. She knew it. Her lips parted slightly in anticipation and her eyelids drooped.
‘Good night, Raine.’
With shock, her eyelids flew open. He gazed deep into her eyes.
And then he turned abruptly without another word.
Raine set her empty cup on the bedside locker. She put her finger to her lips. Why hadn’t he kissed her? Was it his way of taking control of the relationship, flimsy though it was, knowing she’d expected it and refusing to comply? But those last moments when his eyes met hers it was as though he were looking into her very soul. She gave an inward shiver of recognition.
Alec had helped her about Doug without realising it. Not to forget him – she’d never do that – but to believe they were continuing the fight against Hitler’s evil that Doug may have given his life for. It gave her a strange feeling, but she felt comforted in spite of it.
She sank back down in the bed and drew the blanket up to her neck, then turned over. It was an hour before she finally drifted off to sleep.
The following evening, after the pilots had made their deliveries, Pauline Gower asked them to gather in the hall as she had an important announcement to make.
‘I’m delighted to tell you that Stephanie Lee-Jones has made an excellent recovery and will be coming back to work next Monday.’
Several cheers went up, Raine’s the loudest.
‘Do we know what was the matter with her?’ one of the girls asked.
‘I was coming to that.’ Pauline wore a serious expression. ‘It was nothing to do with her general health. The hospital doctor confirmed she’d had carbon monoxide poisoning which could only have come from the plane she was flying – a Typhoon.’
There was a collective intake of breath.
‘I flew one the other day.’ Evelyn said, turning pale.
Pauline held up her hand. ‘Let me continue, Evelyn. I’ve received confirmation this morning from the Air Ministry that they’ve reached the same conclusion.’ She put her glasses on and looked at the sheet of paper in her hand. ‘Apparently one of the ferry pilots had to bale out recently because he started feeling sick and dizzy. He was lucky to escape as he was on a long flight. He could so easily have died.’ Her gaze swept over the women. ‘Stephanie was extremely lucky because she was only on a very short flight of no more than twenty minutes – enough to make her ill, certainly, but thank goodness not enough to leave any permanent damage.’
‘It sounds to me as though the exhaust stubs were leaking,’ Audrey said.
‘Exactly,’ Pauline said. ‘I have to say I put it down to bad design. But the report I’ve just received assures me that all Typhoons are being fitted with longer exhaust stubs and the port cockpit doors are now being sealed. The Pilots Notes are to be amended today with these words: “Unless the words MOD No 239 have been embodied it is most important that oxygen be used at all times as a precaution against carbon monoxide.”’ Pauline took her glasses off and glanced around. ‘I will send a memo to you all to remind you of this wording. In the meantime, if anyone has a Typhoon to deliver, I want you to use an oxygen mask, whether or not the Typhoon has been modified. That will be our extra precaution.’ Her sharp eyes scanned across every individual in the room. ‘Is that clear?’
There was a chorus of ‘Yes, ma’am.’
Raine’s head swam just thinking about poor Stephanie feeling more and more ill, yet knowing she had to keep alert to land. Even though they were not in direct combat they were all risking their lives every time they went up. Only the other day they’d had word that a ferry pilot, Pamela Mason at Hamble, had been killed while trying to land in a storm.
‘One more thing,’ Pauline said. ‘I’ll be transferring to White Waltham in ten days’ time.’
There were a few audible groans and a couple of boos.
‘Well, at least no one has shouted “hurrah”,’ Pauline said, smiling. Then her expression became serious as her attention fell on her group of pilots. ‘You are brave and loyal women – not to mention you’re all excellent pilots,’ she continued, ‘and have done me proud. I know you will carry on doing so.’ She paused and suddenly the smile was back, even wider this time. ‘I think we can say we’ve definitely shown the men a thing or two here at Hatfield when they said a female-staffed and female-run ferry pool would have little chance of success.’
There were cheers and laughter. Raine tried to cover her disappointment that Pauline was leaving by feebly attempting to join in. She admired and liked everything about the CO, who she considered a wonderful example and who always did her utmost for each and every one of them, particularly speaking up on their behalf when there were unfair allegations about women pilots.
‘I will miss you all very much,’ Pauline was saying, ‘although the way people move around, I won’t be at all surprised to see some of you again. I should alert you that Hatfield might be closing down as a training school, possibly early next year, so you might all start thinking about where you would prefer to be transferred.’
Raine’s initial disappointment swiftly dissolved.
There was nothing to stop her putting in for a transfer to White Waltham as well. And there’d be an added bonus – she’d be that bit closer to a certain RAF station.
December 1941
‘And now I have some news for those who might not yet have heard it on the wireless,’ First Officer Jean Randall told the group of ATA pilots.
There was a hush of expectancy.
‘The Japanese have made a surprise military attack on the US Naval Base at Pearl Harbor – that’s Hawaiian territory, which, of course belongs to the US.’ There was a gasp from the women. ‘Bad news for them,’ she continued, her face breaking into a grin, ‘but marvellous news for Mr Churchill, as the Americans will finally come into the war – no doubt about it.’
There was an excited murmur.
‘I’m sure you will all be on your best behaviour when you encounter any US Air Force personnel and show them how professional you all are. That is all.’
She nodded and left the room.
The women looked at one another, then all started talking and cheering at the same time.
‘Things are sure to take a different turn now the Yanks will be coming,’ Audrey said, and Raine was amused to see her friend’s eyes were sparkling with anticipation. ‘I can’t wait to show them how professional we are.’ She burst into a peal of laughter.
Christmas was approaching and Raine had drawn the lucky straw for a 48-hour pass over the holiday. She still dreaded going home to face Maman, but she’d have to get it over with sooner or later. Besides, she missed her sisters terribly. Suzanne wrote regularly, but it was mostly asking how Raine was getting on with her aircraft deliveries, a few details about her music rehearsals, and that she’d joined the church choir but maybe it was a mistake. There was a boy in the choir who tried to stand as near to her as the choirmaster would allow, and insisted upon buying her a cup of tea after each practice.
Keith is very sweet but his voice has barely broken,’ Suzanne wrote, though he wants to join up. I should think his mother will have something to say about that. But it makes me think even more that I should be doing something for the war effort as well.
