by Molly Green
‘What on earth happened to you?’ She plonked into the easy chair opposite.
Raine switched off the wireless and quickly explained.
‘I nearly had the same thing happen the other day and that was a Hurricane, too,’ Stephanie said. ‘I was pulling like mad at the undercarriage lever. It gave way after I swore and called it every dirty name I could think of, but at least the undercarriage didn’t collapse when I landed.’ She stared at Raine. ‘It’s either a mechanical fault that needs to be sorted right away or something simple like giving it a double blob of lubrication. Anyway, you don’t have to worry – it’s not your fault.’
‘But I bet it won’t be the end of the story for me,’ Raine said soberly. ‘There’s bound to be an inquiry, considering the plane is probably too far gone to repair.’
‘Well, if I’m around I’ll certainly go with you and tell them I had exactly the same problem,’ Stephanie said with feeling.
Raine looked directly at her friend. She felt a warmth stronger than friendship between them. A bond.
‘Thanks, Stephanie.’ She gave her hand a light squeeze. ‘I might have to take you up on that offer if you happen to be around.’
‘I insist you do.’
Raine hesitated. Stephanie never talked about her family. Never seemed to have a letter from them like she and the other pilots did. As far as she knew, they hadn’t even visited her in hospital. Raine was positive there was something wrong there. Should she say anything?
‘What’s wrong, Lorraine? You’re staring. Have I got a smut on my nose?’
‘N-no.’
‘Well, what is it?’
‘It’s just that …’ Stephanie was watching her intently. ‘Stephanie, is everything all right with you?’
‘What do you mean?’ Stephanie’s tone was a little on the defensive.
‘At home. Your family. You never mention your mother and father.’ Raine leaned towards her, uncertain what to say next. ‘Please forgive me if I’m speaking out of turn, but I feel something’s wrong there.’ She spread her hands. ‘And if you ever want to talk about it, you know I’d never blab.’
Stephanie blinked. There was a silence. Raine swallowed. Had she gone too far? Would Stephanie think she was being plain nosy?
‘I’m sorry, Stephanie,’ she began, ‘it’s just that—’
‘It’s all right,’ Stephanie interrupted. ‘If you really want to hear it …’ Her voice was suddenly dull. ‘Two years ago I did something very stupid and ended up pregnant.’
Raine took a sharp intake of breath. ‘Oh, no.’
Stephanie stared at the worn patterned rug by her feet. ‘Exactly what the parents said. Only they said a lot more. My father said I was no daughter of his and that he would disinherit me. Luckily for me I had a miscarriage.’ She looked across at Raine. ‘I don’t mean lucky because he kept me in his will, after all …’ Stephanie’s bright blue eyes filled with tears, ‘but because of the innocent life that came to an end through no fault of his … or hers. It was better for the baby that way …’ Her shoulders began to shake.
‘Oh, Stephanie, I’m so sorry.’
Stephanie shook her head and caught her bottom lip between her teeth. She looked Raine full in the face. ‘Mummy persuaded Daddy not to do anything so cruel and because I lost the b-baby, he didn’t in the end, but I can’t forgive him for threatening to disown me and he’s treated me differently ever since.’
Stephanie cast her eyes down again. ‘Do you know,’ she mumbled, and Raine had to strain to hear the words, ‘he didn’t even come and see me when I had that poisoning, but at least Mummy didn’t let him bully her – she came. She said Daddy was worried about me being ill but couldn’t bring himself to come too.’ Stephanie began to cry.
Raine leapt up from her chair and put her arms around the sobbing girl.
‘Oh, Stephanie, I’m so sorry. But I’m sure he’ll make it up with you one day.’ She paused. ‘What happened to the baby’s father? Did he know you were pregnant?’
‘Yes, he knew,’ Stephanie said, sniffing. ‘He was married, of course. He couldn’t wait to get back to his wife – the woman who didn’t understand him.’ She looked at Raine with swollen eyes. ‘Truth is, she understood him only too well.’ She burst into a fresh bout of weeping.
‘It’s all right,’ Raine said, patting Stephanie’s back, her own eyes pricking. ‘Cry as long as you want. I’m here as your friend any time you want to talk. And one day someone will come along who’s more deserving – you’ll see.’
That night Raine lay in bed trying hard to fall asleep, but the more she tried, the more sleep evaded her. All she could think of was poor Stephanie. Fancy being pregnant and your own father saying you weren’t his daughter any longer and threatening to cut you out of his will. Maman was not particularly a motherly person but deep in Raine’s heart she knew neither of her parents would ever have disowned her or her sisters, no matter what. And something else. With all the apparent money Stephanie’s family had, it didn’t seem to make any of them happy.
A feeling of shame stole over her. She’d been so angry with Dad when he’d confessed he’d lost all that money. She’d kicked up such a fuss about moving to a smaller house and worrying about what people would think. But in spite of her tantrums her father’s love for her had been unwavering. She squeezed her eyes shut. Dear Dad. How she missed him. But how lucky she was compared to Stephanie.
She hoped she was right about her friend – that Stephanie would meet someone nice one day who’d appreciate her effervescent personality, respect her as an excellent pilot. With a deep sigh Raine turned over, for once counting her blessings, until finally she fell into a deep sleep.
One morning, five days later, with a feeling of dread weighing heavily, Raine set her chin and walked into the Accidents Committee Room at White Waltham, hoping against hope that Pauline Gower would be on the panel. If so, she would definitely vouch for her. Pauline had been called away several days ago, so Raine hadn’t had a chance to talk to her about the accident.
But her hopes were shattered as she saw three men facing her. A flight captain she vaguely knew by sight sat between two other men. The one to the left was in overalls, and he and the flight captain nodded to her in acknowledgement. The one on her right in RAF uniform didn’t. She startled at the sight of him. His eyes, grey and hard as steel, bore into her, the triumphant gleam turning her stomach to water. Foxy! Her heart pounded and for a split second she was back at Biggin Hill with Linda. She looked longingly at the water jug on their table and had to force herself not to lick her lips or he’d pounce on the fact she was nervous.
For a few seconds her mind couldn’t work out why he was here. Her thoughts flew. She tried to swallow but her mouth had dried up. This was the worst news possible. Why was he on the panel? Had he somehow found out she’d had an accident? Her heart sank as she remembered her breezy letter to Linda, saying someone – without mentioning Pauline Gower – must have stopped him in his tracks. Willing herself to look him directly in the eye, she knew with every fibre of her being that he would do anything it took to get her into serious trouble.
‘Sit down, Miss Linfoot,’ the flight captain said in a not unkind tone. ‘I believe you know me … Flight Captain Jones. Here on my right is Mr Browning, one of our mechanics, and on my left is Flight Lieutenant Fox, who’s probably spent more hours in a Hurricane than most of us put together.’
She thanked God the flight captain with his three stripes was Foxy’s superior. His expression was neutral although the mechanic sent her a sympathetic glance.
‘Perhaps you would like to tell us the, um, difficulty you had in the Hurricane last Friday.’
Raine sat on the metal seat opposite the three pairs of eyes. By the way he was staring at her with that smug expression, she could tell Foxy knew she’d recognised him, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of thinking he was causing her any distress. She wasn’t that same innocent young girl of two years ago. She f
ixed her gaze instead on the flight captain.
‘I was trying to get the undercarriage down, sir,’ she began. ‘But the lever was very stiff. It wouldn’t give. I tried several times and finally I felt it move. I pulled harder and the undercarriage finally dropped into position.’ She hesitated. ‘You can imagine my relief.’
She caught Foxy rolling his eyes.
‘Quite.’ Flight Captain Jones scribbled some notes and nodded for her to continue.
Wishing Stephanie had been able to stand with her and vouch for having had the same problem but who was at that moment delivering a plane, Raine continued.
‘So at that point, all seemed to be well. The weather wasn’t too good so I wasn’t surprised there were no planes in sight, but I managed to see where I wanted to land. The wheels touched down – all quite normally – but seconds later they buckled under … just collapsed. I certainly wasn’t prepared for a belly landing, but that’s what happened.’
Jones turned to the mechanic.
‘Have we had any problems before with the undercarriage of any Hurricanes, Mr Browning?’
‘Not that I know of, sir. They’re a robust plane, as you know, but there’s always a first.’
‘Sir, I think I can throw a light on the problem,’ Foxy said, staring straight at Raine.
‘Go ahead.’ Jones sat with his pen poised, ready to take notes.
‘In my opinion, most of the problem is that Miss Linfoot’s a woman, and I’m sure this is one of the reasons why the ATA was so reluctant to open it out to female pilots in the first place.’ Foxy gave a slight twist of his mouth. ‘And of course they’d never allow them in the WAAFs.’ He turned to the flight captain. ‘It was only recently that the ATA allowed women to fly operational aircraft and I’m sorry, sir, but in my view they should not have been allowed to fly anything heavier or more complicated than a Moth. They just don’t have the same physical strength as men. Or mental, if I may say so, particularly at certain times of the month when the hormones go flying.’ He smiled at the feeble joke as he looked Raine fully in the eye.
‘No offence meant, of course, to present company but Miss Linfoot is of slim build—’ Foxy broke off to give her a smile as though he’d just paid her a huge compliment, ‘and you can see how difficult it must have been for her to move a lever which might …’ he paused, ‘or might not have been a little stiff. And it was obvious she didn’t pull the lever hard enough, as would a man, so the undercarriage wasn’t ever in position.’
‘Sir,’ Raine swung her glance back to the flight captain, ‘I’ve delivered Hurricanes before. It’s not a heavy plane to handle and I’ve never had any problem with them or any other aircraft. The green lights were on, confirming the undercarriage was properly down, so with all due respect,’ she glared at Foxy, ‘I resent your remarks.’
There was a silence.
She waited, her heart hammering against her ribs. She shouldn’t have said that. They could easily get rid of her – it wouldn’t take much. Tears pricked at the back of her eyes and she had to use all her willpower not to say why Foxy had made such a comment. That he’d had it in for her ever since she’d refused his advances. That this was his revenge.
She felt the flight captain’s eyes on her, probably noting her feeble woman’s arms, Raine thought, desperate to hide her fury. She sent him a look of appeal.
‘Best we stick to the facts, Flight Lieutenant,’ he said, glancing at Foxy, ‘rather than one’s personal views.’
Raine could have hugged him.
‘Of course, sir,’ Foxy said through gritted teeth, ‘but I do believe it remains quite a problem.’
Dear God, he wasn’t going to let it go.
‘Anything to add, Mr Browning?’ Jones turned to the mechanic.
‘There is something that might well have been the cause of the lever being difficult to move,’ Browning said. ‘The mechanic who checked it might not have lubricated it enough. If that was the case, then it would be exceptionally stiff – or, which is not unknown – he might have forgotten to lubricate it in the first place.’
‘Was it checked off as lubricated?’
‘Yes.’
‘Has the lever been checked since the accident?’
‘I’ve not seen a copy of that report yet,’ Browning said. ‘The engineer was hoping for it yesterday ready for today’s meeting.’
‘I doubt anyone’s flown more Hurricanes than I have,’ Foxy muttered, though loud enough for Raine to catch his words, ‘and I’ve never known any trouble at all with the lever.’
‘Thank you, Flight Lieutenant. As Mr Browning has pointed out, we don’t yet know if anything’s shown up in the report about the lever.’
Raine took a breath. ‘I’d be very grateful, sir, if you would look at my records and see that I haven’t had a single accident since I joined the ATA.’
‘I’ve looked.’ He tapped a file on his desk. ‘You did get into a spot of bother on your ATA test, though.’
Those bloody barrage balloons.
‘That incident was cleared up, sir,’ Raine protested. ‘The instructor hadn’t been warned that Welwyn Garden City had barrage balloons. It was poor visibility and I didn’t see them until the last minute. But I immediately gained height and got us out of a potentially dangerous situation. The instructor actually complimented me on my quick action and passed me.’ She swallowed, waiting.
‘Yes, I have the notes in front of me.’ Jones looked at her as though assessing whether she was a cautious pilot or a risk-taker. ‘Getting back to the accident, Miss Linfoot. Were you injured at all, besides that bruise on your forehead?’
Raine’s neck had been painful for days but she’d dosed herself up with aspirin.
Foxy was looking directly at her and smirking. Anything she said he would pounce on – make out she was a delicate female instead of simply a pilot who’d tried to deliver an aircraft with some kind of mechanical fault.
‘No, sir.’
‘Do you have anything more to add?’
Raine hesitated. Should she mention Stephanie had had the same problem with the undercarriage lever? She decided against it. It wouldn’t be fair to involve Stephanie if she didn’t have to. But she would make sure Stephanie had reported it on the chit when she’d delivered it. The flight captain was waiting for her reply.
‘No, sir, only that I don’t know the extent of the damage to the undercarriage, but I’m hoping it can be repaired.’
Jones glanced at what looked like a formal document, and then at Foxy. ‘Yes, the undercarriage failure is an entirely different matter. The fuselage was badly damaged, as you might imagine, and the propeller as well. As you know, every aircraft is precious and very costly to replace, and we need every single one of them.’
Raine gulped.
The flight captain gave her a half-smile. ‘But you’ll be relieved to know it’s in the workshop being repaired. Although we haven’t seen the report, I shall take it that it’s an unfortunate mechanical failure, which we will follow up to make sure it’s only happened in that particular plane.’ This time he looked her directly in the eyes. ‘And that’s how it will be logged. No fault of the pilot.’
He made a few more notes, giving Raine a chance to breathe out slowly. Then he looked up and smiled.
‘We’re only relieved that you weren’t injured.’ He tapped his pen. ‘I’d like to say, Miss Linfoot, you have a first-class record and you’re doing a fine job for our fighting chaps, so keep up the good work.’
The dear man.
Raine risked a sidelong glance at Foxy. His mouth was twisted in fury. She immediately concentrated on Flight Captain Jones again.
‘Thank you very much, sir.’ She hesitated. ‘Will that be all?’
‘Yes, Miss Linfoot, you may go.’
Raine nodded her thanks. She couldn’t wait to get away from the look in Foxy’s eyes as she rose to her feet. She felt his eyes boring into her back as she walked out of the door, her head held high. Blinking back
tears of utter relief, she shut the door quietly behind her and made her way to the mess for a cup of life-saving tea.
Thankfully, the officers’ mess was quiet. She hoped no one would come in and start talking. She needed to think. Although she’d given up sugar as soon as rationing had come in, she felt the need for something sweet. She searched in her bag for her emergency bar of chocolate they were all given each day in case they were too busy to have lunch. Her mind whirled as she tore off the wrapper and bit into the first couple of squares. What could have caused the mechanism to be so stiff as to be near impossible to move? Had Browning been right? That maybe the mechanic hadn’t lubricated the lever enough – or at all? If so, it would have been an oversight. A human error, but bad enough to have had deadly consequences.
If only Pauline had been here. A sudden thought flashed through her mind. Could Pauline have reported Foxy for lying about the minimum amount of flying hours required in any pilot interested in joining the ATA? She’d certainly indicated that she would take it further.
Before Raine could think any more, a voice interrupted her. She knew that voice. She looked up.
‘May I take this seat, Miss Linfoot?’
Her heart somersaulted. The last person she expected to see, Alec Marshall was looking down at her, but she couldn’t read his expression. She felt awkward remembering how they’d parted the last time. Come to think of it, they never did seem to part on good terms. And now, in her mind, reliving that kiss that had knocked her senseless, her face warmed. Another thing – she’d never written to thank him for the beautiful silk scarf. He must think her abominably rude.
‘How did you know I was here?’ she asked, trying to cover her embarrassment.
‘I phoned Hatfield. They told me you’d been transferred.’
She looked at him. ‘Do you know where I’ve just been?’
‘No. Tell me.’ He sat down and lit a cigarette.
Certain she could trust him not to judge her, she poured out her story but left Foxy out of it. If she was honest, she was a little afraid of Foxy. He could ruin her career if he put his mind to it and she didn’t think she’d heard the last of him.
