Kitabı oku: «A Sister’s Courage», sayfa 2

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.

Without warning, there was a terrific lurch and suddenly she was hanging upside down, only the safety harness keeping her in place. But before she had time to react, the aeroplane righted itself. All too soon Doug brought it down on the grassy field with a couple of gentle bumps.

‘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.’

‘I thought you were in the RAF.’

‘I am – but as a volunteer. It’s called the RAFVR. The VR bit means Volunteer Reserve. So when war is declared – and I’m sure it’s going to happen sooner or later – I’ll automatically join the RAF.’

Raine’s heart raced. ‘How far away is the flying club?’

‘About five miles.’ He glanced at her bicycle. ‘No distance on a bike.’

‘Maybe, but I couldn’t afford to be a member of anything like that.’

‘Not in normal circumstances, you probably couldn’t,’ Doug replied, grinning. ‘But the Civil Air Guard are preparing pilots for war. They’re offering subsidised flying lessons at five bob a go. That’s dirt cheap, so you should be able to manage one a week.’

Five shillings. Maybe it was dirt cheap for a flying lesson, but she knew Maman would never give her the money for them. Her mouth tightened with determination as she remembered her father’s words to her in the study that day. She’d pay for them somehow.

‘And who knows’ – Doug was smiling – ‘you might even get me as your instructor. In fact, I’ll put a word in for you at Hart’s and tell them I’d like to teach you if I’m not at Biggin Hill that day.’

‘Oh, Doug, that would be wonderful.’ Raine felt her chest would burst. ‘And do you really think you could get me a job here?’

‘Leave it to me.’ He winked. ‘When are you coming again?’

‘Tomorrow?’

‘No, tomorrow’s Sunday. But I think Tuesday would be okay – say, ten o’clock?’

Thankful the school term had ended and it was the start of the Easter holidays, she said, ‘Yes, please, Doug.’ If she had her way and something turned up, she wouldn’t be going back to school.

‘Okay. I’ll meet you at the gate.’ He looked at her and she nodded. ‘Meanwhile, I’ll see what I can do.’

Chapter Three

The hours dragged by until Tuesday. When it finally dawned, with raindrops splashing down her bedroom window, Raine hopped out of bed and quickly washed and dressed without disturbing Suzanne. She’d become used to sharing a room now, and Suzy would never betray her.

Would Doug have any news about a job for her? It would be so wonderful if he had. She wouldn’t even cycle over to Hart’s Flying Club and speak to anyone about taking lessons until she knew she could definitely pay for them.

‘Tea, Maman?’ she said as her mother waltzed into the kitchen in her satin dressing gown, looking for all the world like a glamorous film star. How her mother was going to tighten her belt, heaven knew.

‘Thank you, chérie.’

Raine hummed as she poured a cup for herself.

‘You sound very happy today, Lorraine.’ Her mother gave her a sharp look before glancing out of the window at the grey clouds. ‘And on such a morning where it looks as if it will storm.’ She turned round. ‘So why are you so cheerful?’

Raine knew that tone in her mother’s voice. She tried to laugh it off.

‘I’m always happy when I go to the library,’ she said, ‘and that’s where I’m off to.’

‘But you went Saturday.’

Careful, Raine. Maman is already suspicious.

‘I know. I didn’t like what I’d chosen, after all.’

Her mother regarded her thoughtfully, her forehead creasing into a frown.

‘Your hair needs cutting,’ she said finally. ‘It looks most untidy. I will cut it for you this morning since we cannot afford the ’airdresser.’

Alarm rose in Raine’s throat. ‘Maman, I want to go to the library this morning before it gets busy, so you can cut it this afternoon, if you like.’

‘Yes, I do like,’ her mother said. ‘But I like to do it this morning. Until then I will return to my bed. I did not sleep well. Please wake me at half past ten with coffee. This tea tastes ’orrible.’ She swept out.

Raine gazed after her mother. She was sure Maman suspected she was up to something. Well, she was not going to sit docilely while her mother, who had never cut anyone’s hair in her life, hacked at hers this morning. She liked her hair long. She could tie it back from her face or put it up out of the way. She wasn’t going to have Maman’s experimental haircut. No. She had an appointment at Biggin Hill aerodrome and no one – not even Maman – was going to stop her from keeping it.

Raine wasn’t concentrating as her feet automatically pedalled along the lane. A steady drizzle seeped under the collar of her jacket. Her mind was far above in the dark clouds when a rabbit shot in front of her. Swerving across the road to avoid it she landed in a ditch, mud and water clinging to her and the bicycle.

Damn. That’s all I need.

She managed to push the handlebars to one side and climb out, then hauled the bike up. On inspection, she noticed the handlebars were at the wrong angle. She tugged them hard in the opposite direction, but they didn’t budge. Disappointment flooded through her. She’d hardly slept all night, she’d been so excited when Doug had offered to put in a word for her about working at Biggin Hill. She’d be with other pilots – telling them how she longed to learn to fly. Fancy him being one of the instructors at the flying club. And now, when she didn’t turn up, Doug would think she’d lost interest and not bother with her again. Tears sprang to her eyes.

I’ll walk, she told herself fiercely. It can’t take more than an hour, even wheeling the bicycle. But after twenty minutes of pushing the heavy bike she felt a sharp pain stabbing her right arm. She must have fallen more awkwardly than she’d realised. She paused for a minute and impatiently rubbed it, but it only gave her slight relief. She glanced at her watch. Already ten past nine. She would never make it by ten.

Well, it was no good bawling. She’d have to thumb a lift in a lorry or something that could take her bicycle as well.

She stood out on the road, but the only large vehicles were buses that carried on past her to their next scheduled stops. Biting her lip in frustration, her right arm beginning to throb, she made a pact with herself. If nothing suitable comes after five more cars, I’ll stop the next one – whatever it is – even if I have to dump my bicycle.

It was a pony and trap. The driver doffed his cap as the pony clopped by. ‘Morning, miss.’

‘Oh, please stop,’ Raine called desperately.

‘Whoa, there, Matilda,’ he called, pulling the reins as he addressed the horse. ‘Let’s ’ear what the young lady ’as to say for ’erself.’

‘Are you going anywhere near the aerodrome?’

‘Would that be Biggin Hill?’

‘Yes.’

He looked at her. ‘And what would you be doing on an aerodrome, miss?’

‘I work there.’ It wouldn’t hurt to tell him such a fib. ‘But I’ve had an accident on my bicycle and if I don’t get there soon I’ll be late.’

‘You’ll be telling me you’re one of the pilots next.’ He grinned, showing more gaps than teeth. ‘I’m picking up our Ellie but you’re welcome to climb in the back.’

‘Can I bring my bike as well? It’s a bit banged up.’

‘Course you can.’ He grinned again and jumped down. ‘Hang on. I’d better give you a hand.’

He helped her climb in, then picked up the bike, grunting a little as he hoisted it in the air and heaved it into the trap. Raine steadied it against the side as he took up his position.

He turned round. ‘All set?’

‘Yes.’

‘Righto. Off we go.’ He cracked a whip and the pony set up a plodding pace.

It seemed as though they’d gone miles along country lanes before he eventually halted outside a row of terraced cottages and whistled. A woman of indeterminate age wearing a long black skirt and cardigan, slippers on her feet, came to the doorway of the first one.

‘That’s our Ellie.’ He nodded towards the woman. ‘Hey, Ellie,’ he shouted. ‘Get a move on. We’ve got a guest in the back who needs to get to the airfield – sharp!’

The woman nodded and disappeared. A couple of minutes later she came out with a basket on her arm and wearing a pair of scuffed lace-up shoes. She struggled up the step to the spare front seat and turned to look at the ‘guest’.

Raine smiled and said hello, but the woman whispered something to the old man. He shook his head.

‘She tells me she works over yonder at Biggin Hill – the airfield,’ he explained to the woman. ‘She’s damaged her bike, so I’m giving her a lift.’

‘But—’

‘Be still, Ellie. We’re giving her a lift and that’s final.’

Raine’s stomach fluttered with anxiety. Would the woman make her step down? Maybe the best tack would be to keep quiet. She peered at her watch again: seven minutes to ten. She swallowed. If the driver had diverted much to pick up Ellie, whoever she was, Raine knew she’d had it. She’d never get to the aerodrome on time.

She willed herself not to look at her watch any more, but to her relief it was only fourteen minutes past by the time the driver steered his horse off the road to the right, where her heart lifted as she saw the planes lined up at the far end, ready for take-off.

Surely Doug would wait a quarter of an hour before he gave up on her.

‘I believe this is where you wanted to go, love,’ the driver said, turning his head round to her.

‘Yes, thank you.’

He nipped down and put his hand out to help her. Then in a flash he’d swung her bicycle out and set in on the ground.

‘I’m really grateful for the lift,’ Raine said.

‘Always glad to give a lift to a pretty maiden,’ he said as he doffed his cap. With another spring he was back in his seat and urging the horse forward.

The minutes ticked by as Doug failed to appear. Raine glanced at her watch every few seconds, willing him to come. Five minutes passed, then ten, now fifteen – it was gone half past ten. She began to worry, hoping nothing had happened to him. She remembered the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled and her pulse quickened. Enough of that. She doubted he’d ever give her the time of day, though if he’d take her up again, he’d be her hero forever.

Someone was loping towards the gate. The man came nearer but to her disappointment, she could see it wasn’t Doug. This man, about the same age, she guessed, was nowhere near as handsome. Still, he was smiling as he ran up to her.

‘Are you Raine?’ he asked as he removed his cap.

She nodded.

‘Andy Strong.’ He paused and studied her. ‘You look like you’ve been in the wars.’

Raine looked down at herself. She was splattered with mud. ‘I fell off my bike,’ she said, ‘and I can’t move the handlebars back.’

Andy glanced at it. ‘Here, let me.’ He took hold of the bicycle and put his legs either side of the front wheel. Then he pulled hard on the handlebars until they were straight. ‘There you are,’ he said. ‘That ought to do it, though you should get that nut tightened up,’ he tapped it to show her, ‘as soon as you can.’ He felt in his jacket pocket. ‘Oh, nearly forgot the reason why I’m here. Doug gave me this to give to you.’ He handed her an envelope marked ‘Raine’ and a long squiggle underneath.

‘Thank you.’ Her heart beat hard as she ripped open the envelope and pulled out a small sheet of paper and read Doug’s scrawl.

Raine, I’m most awfully sorry not to be there this morning as I’d hoped. But I’m definitely on for Saturday morning, same time, if you can be there. Do hope so. There’s a job going which I’m sure you could do. Doug

She read it quickly again then folded the note and tucked it back into the envelope.

‘Any reply?’ Andy asked as he gave her a curious glance.

‘Yes,’ she said breathlessly, the words ‘there’s a job going’ running through her head, making her dizzy with excitement. ‘Yes. Please tell him I’ll be there.’

‘Roger.’ He set his cap back on and, giving her a cheerful wave, ambled off.

She stood staring after him, happy that Doug hadn’t wanted to let her down. Something had turned up, but he hoped to see her again, maybe with some news. She’d discipline herself to be patient until Saturday. She’d even be patient with Maman. That was until she realised her mother would get hold of her as soon as she was home. Well, she’d go to the library, after all. Take her time. Then she wouldn’t have to tell any lie, and with a bit of luck, Maman would have forgotten all about cutting her hair.

Raine propped her bicycle in the shed and walked nonchalantly through the door into the sitting room, carrying her library books, annoyed with herself for needing proof of where she’d been. Maybe Maman wouldn’t let rip as she usually did while her sisters were there.

‘I thought I told you—’ her mother started, leaping up from the chair by the fire.

‘I didn’t want to wake you,’ Raine said, trying to muster a concerned smile. ‘So Ronnie said she’d bring you a coffee and I could change my books.’

‘You will not go against my wishes again,’ her mother said as she stood before her. ‘Is that clear?’ She gave Raine a critical glare. ‘I have waited in to cut your hair.’

‘Maman, I’ll be eighteen in June. No longer a child. So please let me decide whether I want my hair cut or if I’d like to change my library books, or other normal things an adult chooses to do.’

‘Not while you are under my roof and not until you are twenty-one,’ her mother retorted.

‘Then perhaps the best thing for all of us would be for me to pack up and leave.’

She heard Suzanne and Ronnie gasp.

‘You will do nothing of the kind.’ Her mother’s eyes flashed with anger. ‘But I will speak to your father when he is home about your insolence.’

‘What’s all this about not obeying your mother?’ Raine’s father asked her that evening when her sisters were in their rooms busy with their homework.

Her mother had gone to visit a woman she’d met in the village baker’s who spoke French.

Raine told him as briefly as possible about her weekly visits to the aerodrome, without mentioning she’d been up in a plane again.

‘One of the pilots, Doug White, said there might be a job going for me,’ she finished.

‘Doing what?’

‘Just general … something clerical, I expect.’ She didn’t want to use the word ‘dogsbody’ or her mother would have another fit.

Her father paused to light his inevitable cigarette. Raine knew it was to give him time to think.

‘I believe this is something we don’t need to discuss with your mother,’ he said finally, taking in a deep drag of the cigarette. ‘But I’ll come with you on Saturday to meet this chap.’

‘Oh, Dad, don’t come with me,’ Raine said, horrified. ‘He’ll think I’m a complete baby.’

‘No, he won’t. If he’s genuine, he’ll know that I’m a concerned father who wants to make sure his daughter will be safe and happy … and not taken advantage of.’

Her father and Doug got along as though they’d known each other for months instead of having just met. Doug took them to meet Flight Lieutenant Hartman, in one of the administration buildings, who asked Raine many questions about her school subjects and what she enjoyed. She tried to reply as intelligently as she could.

‘Hmm, you have impressive results for your School Certificate and your recent test,’ he said, folding the paper and handing it back to Raine. ‘But don’t you want to finish school? Take your Higher Certificate?’

She shook her head.

‘I wish she would,’ her father said, to Raine’s exasperation. ‘And so does her mother. But she’s bent on getting her pilot’s licence, so she needs to work to pay for the lessons.

Hartman looked straight at Raine. ‘Well, there’s nothing to stop you having flying lessons on the civilian side, but you know that as a female you’ll never fly with the RAF as a pilot, even if they form a women’s section.’

‘Yes, I know that,’ Raine said, fighting a bubble of irritation.

It was so unfair. But she refused to use the word ‘never’ in her vocabulary. Women used to think they’d never get the vote, but thank goodness a few women had been iron-willed in their fight to change the law. And after years of battling it had finally happened. So she could dream that things might change one day as far as women flying for the RAF was concerned.

‘I can offer you the job of a pay clerk,’ Hartman went on, ‘which might or might not make use of your mathematic skills.’ He looked at her. ‘However, the pay isn’t much – nineteen shillings a week.’ He leaned forward over his desk. ‘How does that sound?’

To Raine it sounded a fortune and she had to will herself not to look too thrilled.

‘It would be wonderful, sir,’ Raine started, ‘especially if you could make it a whole pound a week.’

That would pay for a weekly flying lesson, leaving fifteen shillings over – ten shillings a week to her mother and she’d still have a few shillings in her pocket.

Hartman gave her a startled look, then burst into laughter. ‘A girl who’s not afraid to speak up for herself,’ he said, glancing at her father. ‘Well, Mr Linfoot, have you any objections to this single-minded daughter of yours?’

Her father caught her eye and smiled. ‘I think she’s already made up her mind, and far be it from me to stand in her way.’

‘Then the matter is settled.’ He scribbled a note and glanced at the wall calendar.

‘There is just one more thing, sir,’ Raine said, desperately hoping he wouldn’t consider she was trouble with so many requests. But this was the most important of all. ‘What time would I finish each day?’

‘Normally, half past five.’ He looked at her. ‘Is there a particular reason why you ask?’

‘Yes. I intend to take weekly lessons at Hart’s Flying Club,’ she said. ‘I’ll need to cycle there but it’ll be dark by then.’

‘You’ll have Saturdays off and I’m sure they offer lessons at weekends, as well.’

‘It’s just that my mother isn’t keen for me to fly and she’d want to know where I was going every Saturday. I don’t want to worry her unnecessarily, so long as Dad knows where I am.’ Raine held her breath.

She noticed Hartman catch her father’s eye. Her father nodded.

‘We’ll soon be changing the clocks,’ Hartman said, ‘so if we say you may leave once a week at half past two, would that suit? Without altering your pound a week,’ he added with a twinkle.

Raine breathed out. ‘Oh, thank you very much, sir. It’s just that flying is what I want to do more than anything in the world …’ She hesitated.

‘Another question for me?’

‘Only when can I start?’

‘Soon as you like.’

She turned to her father with shining eyes. He sent her a wink.

‘Would tomorrow be all right, sir?’ Raine asked.

‘Good to see someone who’s keen.’ Flight Lieutenant Hartman stood and shook hands with her father, then smiled again at Raine. ‘We’ll see you here at eight o’clock sharp tomorrow morning then, young lady.’