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