Chapter Fourteen

“How’s Walter settling in?” Penny asked Ruth on the Monday as they walked to work.

“I am right here,” the young man in question felt compelled to point out, tapping Penny on the shoulder.

“Of course you are, honey,” Doris told her fiancé, giving his free hand a squeeze, whilst shifting Duck under the other arm, where it proceeded to spit and quack, in a very intimidating manner, at Mary and Betty.

Mary shook her head and hid a little behind Betty, “I really don’t know how you put up with that thing.”

“He’s a sweety,” Doris replied, absently stroking Duck’s head.

As normal, whenever the subject of Doris’s feathered friend came up, especially when the psychopathic aquatic fiend was present, the subject came back around to the connection between the two. Doris was the only one he’d allow near him, as he seemed to believe he was some kind of guard goose. Nobody really thought he understood human speech, but Mary, Penny, and Betty all thought he took umbrage at their voices.

After an incident a week ago when Mary had nearly stepped on his foot and he’d chased her into the Old Lockkeepers Cottage, she’d suggested he’d make a wonderful Christmas dinner. Doris had been lost for words, before finding her voice and letting Mary know exactly what she could do with that particular idea. Betty had noted she hadn’t been aware the American had known so many Anglo-Saxon words and expressions.

Though they’d quickly made up, Mary still wasn’t Duck’s biggest fan. From her position behind Betty, she nodded down toward Ruth’s feet. “Sweety? Look at Bobby. He’s cowering behind Ruth’s legs!”

Distracted by the argument, everyone looked down, and the spaniel was, indeed, shivering. Ruth bent down and stroked his back, receiving a soulful brown-eyed look up in return. She straightened up and told Mary, “Sorry to disappoint, but he’s a little cold. That’s all.”

Bobby, the local furry hero, pulled at his leash as if to emphasize his desire to get into the office of the Hamble Gazette and settle beneath Ruth’s editor’s desk next to her electric fire.

Ruth herself let out her own small shiver. “He’s got the right idea. Come on, Walter, say goodbye to Doris, and let’s all get in from the cold.”

“Here’s hoping there are no biplanes today,” Doris muttered before kissing Walter on the cheek and joining her friends on the short walk to RAF Hamble.

As they came within sight of the guardroom, there seemed to be an altercation going on. Standing next to the chap on guard was the sergeant in charge of the guardroom. His hands were on his hips, with one twitching toward the holster for the revolver he wore on his right hip. Before the two, their backs to the approaching girls, were two men wearing rather grubby raincoats of indeterminate color, one of whom had a camera swinging from his neck. They saw it as he turned to talk to his companion, though they were too far away to hear what was said.

“Morning, Sergeant!” Betty called when they were about five paces away.

Still somewhat distracted, the sergeant barely glanced up initially upon hearing her cry, though when he looked up a second time, a small smile made an appearance. “Miss Palmer. Perhaps”—he stepped slightly to one side so Betty could come and stand next to him, whilst the other girls stood to one side—“you could tell these gentlemen of the press that they can’t come on base?”

The man next to the one with the camera turned to face Betty, but when he spotted the other girls, his gaze alighted upon Penny, where it stopped dead. Ignoring Betty’s outstretched hand, though in fairness it’s doubtful he even saw it, he quickly strode over to stand directly before Penny, who to the surprise of both Doris and Mary was doing anything but look at him.

“It is, isn’t it? It’s Penny Blake!” When she didn’t reply, his expression grew quizzical, and he threw a quick look over toward his companion, who merely shrugged. He tried again. “Don’t you remember me? Gerald Wilks. I’m from The Post magazine. I did a few stories on you before this lot all kicked off.”

A beat before Doris spoke, Penny found her voice, and though her smile appeared forced, she held out a hand, which the reporter took between his own. “Yes. Sorry, of course I remember you. How are you keeping, Gerald?”

She got a shrug in return, though his smile appeared warm and sincere. “No point in grumbling, eh?” He looked around him, and upon seeing both Betty and the sergeant were now sporting identical hostile expressions, he hastily cleared his throat. “Yes, well. I mustn’t take up too much of your time.”

Doris, never one to be shy in stepping forward, did so, fixing the unfortunate man of the press with a glare more akin to one of a protective mother as she asked, “So what can we do for you, Mr. Wilks?” Mary stepped to Penny’s other side so the reporter was in a semi-circle of slightly hostile natives. Betty came to stand a few feet behind him, completing the circle, gripping his shoulder and forcing him to turn to face her.

Correctly recognizing he was now addressing the ranking individual, Wilks cleared his throat. “I too would like an answer to that question,” Betty informed him. “The sergeant here has told me you’ve been talking nonstop about Penny since you arrived ten minutes ago and wouldn’t take no for an answer when he, quite rightly, refused you entry to the base.”

Wilks threw a glance of help toward his photographer, who instinctively, as if he knew potential trouble when he saw it, stepped back. With that movement it became clear he had only one arm, so perhaps he did recognize when to be wary.

The cornered reporter ran a finger around his shirt collar, his eyes darting from side to side, but escape eluded him. “It came to my attention that Penny, here, had joined up, and me and my editor still remember her from before the war. You were quite a flier!” he said to Penny in a voice obviously aimed at endearing him to her. When nobody’s expression lightened, he added, “Though I can see you didn’t actually join up.”

All four girls took a step toward him, leaving him with no escape now. If they’d been human Bobbys, all four would have had their hackles up!

Betty shook her head, and Doris spoke more softly than she’d intended, probably a good idea. “I take it you do know what the Air Transport Auxiliary is?”

At least the reporter appeared to have a sense of self-preservation, as he hastily tried to make amends for insulting nearly everyone present. “Of course, of course! I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Certainly bloody seemed like it,” Doris said, not bothering to keep her voice down this time.

“Just tell us why you’re here!” Penny snapped, linking her arm with Doris’s.

“Yes, good point, I will,” he stammered. “When we heard about Penny, here, we decided it would make a good story. You know,” he went on, warming to his task. He started to wave his hands around but realized he hadn’t room. “Pre-War It-Girl Flies Spitfires, that kind of thing.”

Penny, almost instantly followed by Mary and Doris, turned their backs on him and moved toward the gate, the girl in question telling him as she moved off, “Sorry. That’s all behind me. I’m not interested.”

“But…” Wilks began, making to follow them before Betty stepped in front of him, placing a hand firmly on his chest.

“You heard the lady. Thanks, but no thanks. Now, I suggest you be on your way so I won’t have to pretend not to see what the sergeant here would like to do to you and your photographer.”

Whether Wilks was going to say something to the contrary, the pop of the sergeant unbuttoning the flap on his holster was enough to make him change his mind. Retreating to his companion’s side, he called, “No hard feelings, Penny! You know where to get hold of me if you change your mind,” before, with one last backward glance, sloping off toward Hamble.

Betty hurried to join her friends, who hadn’t got very far and were now in conversation with the guard sergeant. She clapped him on the shoulder when she reached them. “Good job, Charley.”

Now the intruder had been seen off, he reverted to first names. “My pleasure, Betty. Livened up the morning, eh?”

Penny actually leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “Yes. Thank you, Charley.”

Doris stood muttering and running a hand through her hair as the two men disappeared from sight. “I wonder how he found out you were here?”

Charley revealed, “I can help you there, miss. When he realized we wouldn’t let him in when he first got here, the two of them had a chin-wag they thought was out of my hearing—mistake. I’m afraid it was your sister, Penny.”

“What?”

Charley stopped himself from taking a step back. After all, he wasn’t in trouble—he was merely the one passing on the news. “Not directly,” he hastened to add. “That Wilks bloke’s daughter goes to the same school as your sister and happened to mention what happened when you flew her back.”

“I guess that explains why he was here,” Penny said, and then a cloud settled over her and in a voice that would have frightened Hitler, she declared, “You wait until I get my hands on her!”

****

“You believe he’s the same one who was following you when you came out of the bank, then?” Jane asked, grimacing as she regretted taking a sip of one of Mavis’s cups of tea.

Just about to bring her own cup to her lips, Betty saw her friend’s expression and hastily, hoping Mavis wouldn’t spot her, pushed her cup away from her. She’d have a cup from the flask of Bovril she’d brought in with her that morning. After seeing her friends off on their first delivery of the day, she’d gone to find Jane, to fill her in on what had just occurred at the guardroom, but also to find out when she could begin deliveries. Jane had other ideas, and as soon as she’d joined her friend, had brought the conversation around to the previous day’s incident.

Betty sat back and gave the matter some thought before finally telling her, “I think so. I mean,” she tried to clarify, “I had a feeling we were being followed, but I didn’t mention it to Thelma or Doris at the time, and though I kept glancing behind me, I never got a clear view of anyone shady.”

“And you haven’t felt like you’re being followed since?”

Betty shook her head, absently and by force of habit taking a sip of her tea, instantly regretting it. “No, nothing like that. But if it is the same fellow, how come he was on that train?”

Jane smiled. “There, I can help you. It was simply one of life’s coincidences. As well as the name and address of that couple, he also obtained your address.” Jane let her friend mull that bit of information over, letting her take her time to reply.

“I’ve been wondering about that, though you’d already know this,” she eventually said. “I know it’s my last name, but I’ve no idea what the connection would be between it and me. I don’t have anyone, now Eleanor’s gone. I’m not counting my parents, as they never wanted anything to do with me.” Fortunately, Jane knew about Betty and her sister being placed in an orphanage, as their parents wanted only boys. “Did he say anything else?”

Jane shook her head. “Nothing Lawrence told me, anyway.”

Betty let out a sigh of exasperation and slumped back into her seat. “I guess there’s nothing else for it. I’ll have to make a visit to this solicitor.”

“It seems so,” Jane agreed, picking up her cup and then, at Betty’s hasty shake of her head, pushing it away. “When do you want to go?”

Whilst Betty thought this over, Mavis appeared as if by magic at their table. “Not thirsty?” She glared at the two virtually untouched cups.

Jane turned on her best smile and hoped the mess manager would fall for it. “We’re not thirsty after all, it turns out,” she told her and was rewarded with a disbelieving, “Hurumph,” as the older woman took up the cups and, amidst much rattling, transported them back to her kitchen.

“Before you answer,” she said, turning back to her friend and ignoring the continued rattles and crashes coming from the depths of Mavis’s domain, “what was it you wanted to ask me about?”

Betty had to think hard for a few seconds. “Oh, well, two things. Firstly, I wanted to let you know there was a small incident down at the guardroom this morning.”

After she’d told Jane what had happened, Jane shook her head and informed her, “The Post? I’ll give their editor a call and warn him off. It doesn’t sound like we’ll have any more trouble from them, though.”

“Penny’ll be pleased to hear that,” Betty agreed.

“And the second?”

“After everything that’s happened, it almost seems not worthwhile mentioning,” Betty said with a shrug.

“Mention away,” Jane prodded.

“Well, I was hoping to find out when I could go back on deliveries.”

Jane gave her friend a wry smile. “If it weren’t for all this malarkey, I’d have said tomorrow. All your reports have come in top class.”

“And now?”

“And now…I think you need to go and see this solicitor first, don’t you? The last thing you need is something going around in your mind, taking some of your attention, when you’re flying. Agreed?”

Reluctantly, Betty nodded, wondering what on earth a solicitor could want with her.