Joanna was unable to persuade her mother-in-law to get up, but she did manage to cajole her into eating soup and cake. Baxter wasn’t much use as she looked permanently miserable and did nothing to encourage her mistress to cheer up or get up.
‘Mother-in-law, I refuse to let you malinger up here. Your son is at this very moment fighting for his life in France and the very least you can do is take care of yourself.’
‘David has no interest in me. In fact, we both know that when he comes home, he might very well evict me.’
This was the first time they’d had an honest conversation and Joanna thought they might be finally reaching some sort of compromise.
‘He does bear a grudge wonderfully well. If he comes home, then I can assure you I won’t let him do anything of the sort. I’m not the meek and submissive wife I was when he left last September.’
The old lady pushed herself a little more upright in the bed and began to show some interest in the conversation. ‘I know I came here uninvited, but things became untenable in France and I’ve nowhere else to go.’
‘This was your home once and as far as I’m concerned you’ve as much right to live here until you die as I do.’ She thought now was a good time to tackle the reason that they didn’t get on. ‘But what you said to Sarah that day was appalling, and she wouldn’t have left so suddenly without your interference.’
‘I’m a difficult woman, life has made me so, but despite being forthright to a point of rudeness, I don’t bear a grudge.’
Joanna bristled. This was hardly the apology she was hoping for. What could her mother-in-law possibly be holding a grudge about?
‘No, my dear, I wasn’t referring to you. I was thinking about David. I expect he told you I refused to come to your wedding – in fact, I wasn’t invited. His father was a very difficult man and we were separated when he died. David never forgave me for abandoning my marriage.’
This was all news to Joanna and it did explain why David was the cold, rather unfeeling man he was.
‘How brave of you. To have had the courage to walk away all those years ago is something quite remarkable. I’m glad it wasn’t your decision not to come.’
‘The next time my granddaughter telephones, I’d like to speak to her and apologise in person for my uncalled for and unpleasant remarks.’ She paused and closed her eyes for a moment and Joanna thought she’d fallen asleep. Then she continued. ‘When I’m in the wrong, I become defensive and just make matters worse. Will you accept my apology, my dear, and can we start again?’
Instinctively, Joanna leaned forward and took the wrinkled hands in her own. ‘We’ve far more in common than we realise. If you’ll rejoin the household then I promise in future things will be different.’
This was a turning point for them. A wave of sympathy washed over her – they had both had to endure years of less than happy marriages, but she hadn’t had the courage to leave. In fact, until David had gone away, she hadn’t even realised how unhappy she’d been.
‘I’ll not get up now but will do so this afternoon. Perhaps we could dine together as your lodgers don’t come back in time to eat with you.’
‘That’ll be splendid. Tomorrow there are more girls coming so we’re going to have to use the dining room as they can’t fit around the table in the kitchen. I don’t think all of them will be on such a long shift – it’s just the drivers.’
‘Baxter was telling me that there are young ladies actually flying aircraft back and forth. I could hardly believe it, but the world’s changing and possibly not for the better. I never thought to see another war in my lifetime. Did you know that David fought in the first war? He was lucky to survive and it changed him.’
The conversation was interrupted by hurrying footsteps and Liza appeared at the door. ‘My lady, there’s someone wanting to speak to you about the new girls what are coming here.’
Joanna jumped to her feet. ‘Please excuse me, Mother-in-law, I must take this call. I look forward to seeing you downstairs for supper at six o’clock. We don’t call it dinner any more and we certainly don’t dress for it.’
She almost tripped over the puppy lurking at the bottom of the stairs in her haste to reach the telephone. ‘What are you doing in here, naughty boy? I almost broke my neck then.’
A plummy voice responded to her comment. ‘I’m relieved to hear that you didn’t, my lady. I take it that you’re referring to a canine and not a human?’
‘My puppy got under my feet. To whom am I speaking?’
‘Squadron Leader Pelham, ma’am. I believe you’re expecting six girls tomorrow?’
‘I am – is this no longer the case?’
‘It is and it isn’t. We were wondering if you could possibly squeeze in an extra four?’
‘Yes, we can manage. The only drawback for the girls is that their sitting room will be somewhat overcrowded, with twelve using it instead of the expected six. I’ve plenty of empty bedrooms – plenty of empty everything – and already have ladies from the village prepared to work when necessary.’
‘Splendid, splendid. The accommodation for the girls should be completed in a few weeks and then they’ll all be moving to the base. Manston needs two dozen girls – mainly for general duties – as the base is going to be incredibly busy very soon.’
‘I assume that one of the girls already here will be sent to collect them from the station?’
‘Absolutely. Thank you so much for your help, having a place for our girls to stay so close to the base is invaluable at the moment.’
The squadron leader disconnected without saying goodbye. No doubt she was a busy woman and had no time for such niceties.
Joanna immediately went in search of Joe and sent him off on his bicycle to engage the services of Joan and Val, who were on standby to step in and help when needed. As long as they could leave before their children came home from school, and didn’t have to work every weekend, they were willing to come at short notice. Both had husbands fighting in the war – and both were stuck in France in the same regiment as David.
For the first time since Sarah had left home, Joanna felt more optimistic. The remuneration from having twelve girls instead of six would make an enormous difference to the family finances. She’d put away the money from selling David’s hunters to pay for winter fuel and other unexpected costs.
To think that a few months ago she’d been too embarrassed to go into the village herself because she wasn’t in a position to pay what she owed to the local shopkeepers. The bank manager still refused to tell her just how bad things were, but she had a nasty suspicion the bank might own more of the house than David. This wasn’t something she could change, so she refused to dwell on it. Instead, she would concentrate on how things had improved for both herself and for Sarah.
Millie was exhausted by the end of her shift and the half-mile walk through the dark seemed to take longer than usual. Di was equally quiet. She scarcely knew what she ate for her supper and tonight, when her friend offered to do the washing-up, Millie didn’t argue.
The lights were always turned off when nobody was up, and one was obliged to switch them on oneself. However, it was simpler to use her torch to find her way upstairs. After a quick strip-wash in the bathroom, she was more than ready to tumble into bed.
Di was just cleaning her teeth at the sink. ‘It’s going to be so much easier when the others are here. I’m hoping that we can perhaps split the shifts so one of us does from dawn till lunchtime and the other works the second half.’
Her friend gargled, spat into the sink and then was ready to answer. ‘Sarge told me that you’re going to collect the new girls tomorrow. Lucky you – although driving either of those lorries down narrow lanes and past traffic won’t be fun.’
‘Thanks for the vote of confidence, I was already nervous about doing it.’
‘Sorry, old thing, I’m sure you’ll be tickety-boo. If we do share a shift, which half do you prefer?’
‘Definitely the first one – as you don’t like getting up early, that should work out really well. Mind you, Sarge mightn’t give us the choice. Good night – let’s hope tomorrow our boys don’t have to scramble so much.’ Would Ted be safe? She was beginning to like him rather more than was sensible.
The next morning, the flyers scarcely had time to get into their gear before they were in the air. Now there was a mobile canteen of sorts, once the pilots were delivered, both she and Di were free to do other tasks. Hers was to go to Ramsgate Station and collect the new girls.
With some trepidation, she drove the three-ton lorry out through the gates and could barely manage a nod to the cheerful guard at the gate. Fortunately, it wasn’t market day, and she managed to weave her way through the narrow streets of Stodham without hitting anything or running over an unwary pedestrian.
The five-mile drive to Ramsgate was a doddle after that, although negotiating the entrance to the station forecourt could have been a disaster as the local bus was just exiting. Her heart slammed in her chest, but she kept her nerve, raised a hand to the driver, and reversed into the road perfectly.
The bus driver gave her a thumbs-up obviously having appreciated her expertise. Probably he thought a woman driver would be hopeless, but she’d proved him wrong. The train was due in ten minutes, but it was quite likely it would be anything up to an hour or two late. She decided to turn the engine off and conserve fuel and see if there was time to get herself a mid-morning snack from the excellent station café.
It was hardly credible that she’d arrived here only last week herself. A week was a long time when there was a war on. The station was built above the town and, by standing on the running board, she could see the coast. A squadron of Spitfires roared overhead and vanished towards the French coast.
What was that noise in the distance? She swallowed a lump in her throat. It was the sound of gunfire carrying from France across the Channel. Things were relatively peaceful here – apart from rationing, the blackout, and so many young men missing from their families – so far, the war hadn’t really made much difference to civilians. But for those men and women who’d volunteered or been conscripted, life would never be the same again.
She’d finished her egg and chips long before the train eventually steamed into the station. The guard waved her onto the platform, saying she didn’t need a platform ticket.
It took the ten girls – well, two of them were women possibly as old as thirty and didn’t look very friendly – far longer than it should have done to get themselves organised and shamble towards the lorry. They really needed at least an NCO to keep everyone in line.
Why had Victory House not sent them at least a couple of experienced WAAFs? Even an ACW1 would be an improvement on everybody being the lowest of the low.
‘Right, everybody be quiet.’ She didn’t shout, just raised her voice slightly, and to her astonishment the milling group fell silent and all turned to stare at her. ‘I’m Millie – I’m here to take you to your temporary billet. Which of you are the drivers?’
Two strapping girls, one with peroxide-blonde hair and far too much lipstick and the other with her hair cut in a rather mannish style, put their hands up as if they were at school.
‘Good – you can travel in the front with me and I can fill you in. The rest of you get yourselves and your kitbags into the back of the lorry. I warn you it’s not comfortable and when I corner you might very well slip off the benches. Therefore, put your bags in the centre so you have a soft landing.’
It took them a further fifteen minutes to get themselves and their belongings safely inside so she could close the tailgate. Goodness knows where they’d been trained – it certainly wasn’t where she and Di had been, as they’d be a lot more efficient and better organised.
She jumped onto the running board and into the cab – the two girls she’d invited to travel with her did the same. At least these two should be all right – you couldn’t pass the practical and written tests if you weren’t a decent driver.
‘Names would be helpful,’ she said as the two chatted to each other, completely ignoring her.
‘I’m Cora and this is Ruby,’ the one with the very short hair said and was about to continue her conversation.
‘You and Ruby will be working with Di and me – there’ll be a rota but I’m not sure exactly how Sarge is going to organise things. At the moment, we’re doing dawn till dusk but obviously aren’t needed to ferry the pilots and crew more than twice a day.’
‘Blimey, dawn? When it’s still dark, you mean?’ Ruby said.
‘I mean exactly that. Squadrons are on readiness all the daylight hours, so we have to be available too.’
‘We’re used to starting at eight o’clock and finishing at six. No one said nothing about working twelve hours,’ Cora moaned.
‘You won’t be working twelve hours, you just have to be on duty. You’ll get plenty of time to get on with basic maintenance and so on as well as collecting and delivering parts to other bases in the area.’
‘How many days off do we get?’ Ruby wasn’t at all happy and Millie knew instinctively these two were going to be trouble – possibly more trouble than they were worth.
‘One day a week, if you’re lucky. Things are getting busy at Manston. They’re a frontline base and are heavily involved in what’s going on with the BEF in France.’
‘I bet we don’t get paid any more than if we only did ten hours and not twelve or more. Blooming heck – it’ll be even more as the days get longer. I never signed up for none of this.’
Millie finally lost patience with the two of them. ‘You trained as drivers and mechanics for the RAF. Did you honestly expect to be working regular hours once you were posted to an active base?’
Ted flew two sorties over the Channel and, more by luck than skill, shot down a German bomber. The burst of machine-gun fire went into the cockpit and the poor bastard didn’t have a chance. He scarcely had time to register his success when two Messerschmitts were after him.
A Hurry isn’t as fast as a Spit, nor is it as manoeuvrable, but survival instinct took over and he sent his kite into a steep dive. He plunged towards the drink with the German fighters screaming after him. He was hit in the shoulder – he wasn’t sure how badly. At the last possible moment, he wrenched the stick and managed to pull the nose up.
His Hurry skimmed the water, travelling at over 300 mph. He was praying that he’d see the coast and safety before he was shot down. Where the hell were the Jerries? Please god they weren’t behind him. Sapper was jabbering in his ear on the intercom, but for some reason he couldn’t quite understand what was being said.
Didn’t matter, really. He couldn’t respond even if he wanted to. His vision was blurry and he’d no idea where he was. He blinked furiously. Yes – he could see the white cliffs of Dover. Somehow, he managed to gain height – be bloody stupid to fly into the cliffs.
Seconds later, Ted was approaching Manston. His training must have taken over as he’d no recollection of lowering the undercarriage, reducing his speed or landing his kite. Thank god the runway was long and wide – he was going to need every yard of it.
Vaguely he was aware of someone pushing back the cockpit cover, unclipping his harness and then heaving him out, and then everything went black.
The next time Ted opened his eyes, he was in a hospital bed with a sore shoulder, the needle in his hand had a tube running from it attached to a bottle of blood on a metal stand. He was too exhausted to try to sit up, but he was able to turn his head and look in both directions.
He was in a ward with eight beds down either side. His was adjacent to the nurse’s table by the doors – he must be someone they were keeping an eye on.
A prang, going for a Burton, was part of the life of a flyer. Almost dying when he’d done neither was a bit of a shock. He supposed being shot up counted as a good enough reason to be here, but he wished he wasn’t.
‘Good, you’re awake. We thought you’d bought it last night,’ the man in the bed opposite said with a cheerful smile.
‘Don’t remember anything about it. I pranged my Hurry and it was a lovely new one. I won’t be very popular for doing that.’
The man waved an empty pyjama sleeve at him. ‘Lost this last week. Almighty boob on my part – serves me bally well right. More upset about my beautiful Spit than I am about my arm.’
‘I don’t remember anything much apart from getting my first kill. Then two of his mates got me in return.’
There was the sound of a crisply starched apron crackling and then a nurse in blue – must be a senior nurse of some sort – bustled up to his side.
‘Good afternoon, Flying Officer Thorrington. I expect you could do with a drink.’ She held a china cup with a spout, something a child would use, up to his mouth and he swallowed gratefully.
‘You gave us all a bit of a scare. You lost so much blood, you’re lucky to be alive.’
‘I knew I’d been hit but wasn’t aware it was so catastrophic until I was almost back at base.’
A bell rang loudly somewhere in the corridor and she smiled. ‘Visiting time – are you expecting anyone to come?’
‘No, I’ve only been at Manston for a few days. Anyway, we don’t get any free time at the moment.’
‘Never mind. I’ll get a student nurse to bring you a nice cup of tea and some biscuits.’
She pulled his bedspread straight, smoothed out any remaining creases, then disappeared as quickly as she’d arrived.
His eyes drifted shut – he didn’t know a lot about bullet wounds but was pretty sure massive blood loss made you tired. He was also sure that if you didn’t die initially then you’d probably make a full and rapid recovery once your body replaced what was missing.
‘Ted, I hope you don’t mind me coming to see you.’
His eyes flew open and to his surprise Millie was standing beside the bed. ‘I’m delighted that you’ve come. How did you know I was here?’
‘Everybody knows where you are, and Dickie Bird said to give you his best wishes. You’re a bit of a hero, you know.’ She adjusted the position of the visitor’s chair and sat down.
‘Can’t see why – ruining a perfectly good Hurry getting myself shot up isn’t exactly heroic.’
Her eyes widened and she stared at him then shook her head and smiled. ‘You don’t know, do you? You shot down a German bomber single-handedly and then managed to fly your kite and land it safely at Manston whilst almost bleeding to death in the cockpit.’
‘My Hurry isn’t a write-off?’ This was more important to him than anything else she’d said.
‘Absolutely not. Your ground crew just had to give it a good clean to remove your gore but, apart from that and a few random bullet holes, it’s tickety-boo.’
‘I don’t care about my shoulder as long as my beloved kite is in one piece. As soon as I’m discharged, I’ll be back in the air doing my job.’ He felt better already.
‘You were at death’s door yesterday, so don’t be in too much of a hurry to get back on duty.’
‘Actually, I don’t want extended sick leave. I’d have to go somewhere, somewhere off base, and I’d rather stay here.’
‘What about your parents? Surely they’d be delighted to look after you for a bit?’
He didn’t speak about his home life to anyone – it was none of their business – but for some reason he wanted to explain how things were to Millie.
‘My mother died a few years ago – cancer – and I’ve never really got on with my father. I’ve not communicated with him for several years…’
‘Golly, you must be a lot older than you look. I thought you were about my age – nineteen or possibly twenty.’
‘I am – nineteen, that is – I’ll be twenty in July. When my mother died, I was just about to go into the sixth form. I immediately moved in with my Aunt Isabel, my mother’s sister. I signed up when I was eighteen – I’m a regular – and intend to make my career in the RAF.’
‘There are dozens of empty rooms at Goodwill House. I’ll ask Joanna, that’s Lady Harcourt, if you could stay with us until you’re better.’
This sounded a much more promising proposition than finding himself a room in a hotel. ‘I’m financially independent so can pay for my board and lodging. I don’t know why you’re being so kind to me – we scarcely know each other.’
‘I rather like you. I’ve absolutely no experience with men of any age, to be honest just being next to a man makes me nervous, but for some reason I feel quite comfortable talking to you.’
This was a bit of a backhanded compliment, but he’d take whatever he could get. ‘I’ve had a couple of girlfriends but nothing serious. I’d be really grateful if you would ask Lady Harcourt and let me know. I’m not sure how long I’ll be here, but probably for a few days.’
‘I asked a very nice man I met in the corridor, a Dr Willoughby, and he said as soon as this transfusion is finished, you could be discharged in a day or so if you had somewhere to go to rest and recuperate.’
‘Then will you please telephone your landlady and see what she says?’