Flicking through a large desk diary, he tapped his finger triumphantly on one of the pages.
‘I have ten o’clock this Thursday, but only because of a cancellation.’
‘I can’t,’ Raine said. ‘I work at Biggin Hill but I can be here any afternoon from three o’clock onwards.’
He shook his head. ‘Got nothing in the afternoons. I’ll have to put you on the waiting list.’
She wasn’t going to leave the club without an appointment booked.
‘Oh, please. There must be something.’
He sucked air through his teeth and turned another page in the diary.
‘Ah, this might help, but it’s only half an hour on Fridays – three thirty. Would that do to begin with?’
‘Yes, it would do very well,’ Raine said, breathing out. ‘Tomorrow’s Friday. May I start then?’
‘I’ve already put you down for it.’ He looked up and smiled. ‘You’ll take a Tiger. And because it’s only half an hour it will only cost you half a crown.’
‘Put these on.’ Doug handed her a flying helmet, a fleece-lined jacket and a pair of goggles the following afternoon.
Immediately, Raine felt as though she’d taken a whole step nearer to her dream as she fastened the strap under her chin.
‘First of all, study your checklist and mentally tick off the items one by one.’ He walked her round the Tiger Moth, pointing out things she must look out for, such as the tyres and oil or fuel leaks. ‘And make sure the control surfaces are free and undamaged,’ he added.
Raine noticed two men in overalls looking on, ready to turn the propeller and pull away the chocks. They were smirking. Were they talking about her, a girl, having the audacity to think she could learn to fly? She decided to ignore them.
‘Doesn’t the mechanic do the checks?’ she asked.
‘Yes, but it’s always the final responsibility of the pilot,’ Doug said. ‘Now, use the cockpit checklist,’ he instructed, tapping her on the shoulder and handing over a sheet of paper once they were strapped in. ‘Make sure you’ve completed every one of them before take-off. This time I’ll show you everything as I’m checking and saying the names aloud, and you follow them on your list.’
Raine’s eyes dropped to the sheet of paper. She skimmed through it but it meant very little, so she quickly focused her attention on the instrument panel in front of her.
Doug leaned over her shoulder and pointed to the various controls. ‘This is the rev counter, the air speed indicator, altimeter to see how high you are. Here’s the oil pressure gauge, the control stick—’ He broke off. ‘Put your fingers round it to get the feel. It’s very sensitive so it only needs a light touch.’
She took the stick in both hands, the skin stretching over her knuckles in her nervousness.
‘No, not like that,’ he remonstrated. ‘You’re gripping it – just use one finger and thumb … yes, that’s better. Now, pull it gently towards you to rise up, then gently push away to descend, then move it to bank left … that’s it … then the opposite to go right.’
She vaguely heard the word ‘throttle’ and a few other names, but she knew she wasn’t taking any more in. Then she suddenly remembered something he hadn’t mentioned.
‘Where are the brakes?’
‘The Tiger doesn’t have them,’ Doug said nonchalantly. ‘You’ll come to a natural stop when you land correctly.’
‘That’s what I wanted to ask you about,’ Raine said. The ‘no brakes’ remark had made her chest tighten. ‘I’m a bit scared of landing.’
‘Don’t be,’ he came back. ‘You won’t be doing anything like taking off or landing on your first lesson – or your third. So don’t worry.’ He patted her back. ‘Okay … are you ready?’
‘Roger.’ Raine’s voice came out in a squeak of nerves, beads of perspiration gathering over her top lip.
This was it. No going back. She felt sick with fear and excitement as Doug’s voice came over the speaking tube attached to her helmet.
‘Okay. Switch on the ignition.’
She gave a satisfied smile as the engine flared. But her smile vanished when Doug shouted for her to open the throttle. She’d forgotten where it was. If he’d ever shown her, that was.
‘Okay, I’ve got it,’ Doug called. ‘Don’t do anything more …’ He paused. ‘Right. Off we go. Remember, always take off and land into the wind.’
When the plane was airborne Doug continued to shout various manoeuvres and instructions. Occasionally she understood, but often her mind went completely blank to the point where she didn’t even know her left from her right. More than once she was too heavy with the control stick.
‘You’re banking too hard,’ he shouted and she felt him adjust the plane. ‘Now, hold it steady and we’ll cruise for a couple of minutes.’
Her nerves frayed, she tried to straighten by jerking the control stick again. And again she felt him right it. She almost wept with frustration and fury with herself. She’d wanted to do so well, to show him what a good pupil she was.
‘Right, I’m going to bring her down,’ Doug called. ‘I’ll tell you what I’m doing at every stage.’
A few minutes later they had touched down and were taxiing along the grass landing strip.
She let out a long sigh. The flight had been a disaster. She squeezed her eyes shut to stop the tears. She’d never get the hang of it. He helped her from the cockpit without saying anything.
‘I’m so sorry, Doug.’
‘What for?’
‘I was awful. I couldn’t keep up with everything.’
‘Don’t fret,’ Doug said. ‘It wasn’t that bad for a first time and there’s a lot to learn.’ He gave her arm a light squeeze. ‘The main thing is, did you enjoy it?’
‘I loved it more than anything, but I didn’t think it was going to be that difficult.’
‘It isn’t. It just takes practice. And if you must know, I didn’t expect any more from you, but …’ he looked at her sternly, ‘I will expect more the next time and you’d better have improved. And the third time you’ll be flying without my help – except for the take-off and landing.’
Immediately, her heart lifted. She felt lighter. Not that bad for a first time. She turned to him. ‘Do you think I’ll really improve with practice?’
‘No, you’ll never make it.’
Her face crumpled.
‘Don’t be a goose,’ he said, giving her a playful chuck under her chin. ‘I was just teasing. You’re going to make an excellent pilot one day – I’ll make sure of it. But until then,’ he looked at her, ‘you need regular lessons. Hartman has suggested once a week, but I’ll try to accelerate them and get you in a couple a week.’
Raine felt her face flood with joy. ‘Will you really, Doug? Oh, that would be marvellous. How many lessons before I can go up on my own?’
‘Solo?’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘You’ve had one lesson. One. With no take-off or landing practice. Don’t run before you can walk. We’ll take it a lesson at a time.’
‘Will you always be my instructor, Doug?’
‘That, I can’t guarantee. Friday is quite a good day for me so I’ll do my best. I’d love to know it was me who trained you.’
‘So