A Sister’s Courage. Molly Green
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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.’
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