‘It’s funny how quickly we’ve settled in,’ Jenny said. It was a week later and the girls were in Hut Three, getting changed into their best blues for an evening in Lincoln, having both secured a late pass for the night. Two other girls from the hut were going and had invited them when they heard Pearl and Jenny also had the evening off. Pearl had been glad to learn that Blanche was working that evening. Although she had been polite to Pearl, she continued to ignore Jenny. ‘I thought I’d never find my way around the station,’ Jenny went on, ‘but I didn’t think twice about making my way back here in the dark last night.’
‘I just wish my work was as easy to navigate.’ Pearl pulled a face as she dabbed a little of her Evening in Paris perfume behind each ear.
She had long ago worked out that she learned best by doing, and, so far, Corporal Snaith had permitted her to do precisely nothing. ‘I’m not letting you anywhere near a TR9 until I can be sure you can handle it,’ he had told her on her first day of duty, when he had ordered her to sit beside him and watch what he did. It had been a frustrating few days. How was she to demonstrate her ability without being allowed to handle the equipment?
The job seemed straightforward enough to Pearl. It only really got busy when there was more than one aeroplane returning at the same time. Then the R/T operator had to inform each pilot what height to circle and then bring them down safely one at a time. Although there had been no bombing missions on in the week Pearl had been at Fenthorpe, there had been training flights most days, so she had seen how it all worked. She was sure she wouldn’t have a problem if only Snaith would give her a chance. There was little to do when the aircraft were all on the ground or not actually coming in to land, apart from listening in to the speaker tuned to the ‘darky’ frequency, which was the frequency pilots used if they were lost or in distress.
She still had to study in the evenings, for she would eventually have to sit more exams to be promoted to leading aircraftwoman. She regularly pored over her notebooks and updated them with the new information she had gleaned from a grudging Snaith. In fact, she had originally intended not accompanying the other WAAFs on their trip to Lincoln that night, thinking she ought to revise. Two things had made her change her mind. Firstly, Jenny had pleaded with her to come, telling her it was about time she got her nose out of her books and had some fun. Considering Jenny also spent much of her spare time reading, Pearl thought she really ought to go herself before she gave herself eye-strain. However, she had another reason for wanting to go: the WAAFs were going to the Saracen’s Head Hotel, which was popular with personnel from all the RAF stations around Lincoln. Although Pearl had to admit she was interested in meeting the men and women from the other bases, she mainly wanted to go because she hoped she might run into Thea. She remembered Thea mentioning the Saracen’s Head in one of her rare letters, and it seemed as good a place to start as any in her attempt to meet her sister. She had, of course, sent a letter as soon as she knew she was being posted so close to Thea, and was irritated, although not surprised, that she hadn’t yet received a reply. Despite Deedee warning her not to smother Thea, Pearl still wanted to meet her, to reassure herself Thea was well. Naturally, she couldn’t guarantee her sister would be there that night, but at the very least she hoped to meet someone from RAF Waddington who could give her some news of her.
Both Pearl and Jenny had come off duty at four that afternoon so, as neither had visited Lincoln before, they opted to hitch a lift to the city centre in time to have a wander around the cathedral before meeting up with the other WAAFs outside the Saracen’s Head. Accordingly, they had dashed back to their hut as soon as they were released from duty to smarten up before going out.
Now Pearl put away her lipstick and gave herself a final inspection in the mirror. She was pleased with her reflection, although she couldn’t help shooting an envious glance at Jenny’s gleaming blond hair. ‘I think we both spruce up very nicely. Are you ready?’
At Jenny’s nod, they left and went to sign out at the guardroom. That done, they made their way to the main road to try their luck at flagging down a lift.
Much to their delight, they hadn’t been out of the gates more than a couple of minutes before a van trundling along the road pulled up when Pearl and Jenny stuck out their thumbs. A middle-aged woman with greying hair stuck her head out of the window. ‘Going into Lincoln?’
Pearl hurried up to the van. ‘Yes. Can you give us a lift?’
‘Hop in. I can drop you off by the station.’
‘Wonderful. Thank you.’
‘There’s room for you both on the passenger seat. You’ll get your uniforms in a mess if you sit in the back.’
Glad to avoid the back of the truck, which bore a distinct aroma of cabbages, Pearl climbed into the passenger seat and squeezed beside Jenny. As an aspiring journalist, she prided herself on being able to quickly draw conclusions about the occupation and character of the new people she met, and, judging by the smell of the van and her weathered face, she decided, this woman must live on a farm.
‘Haven’t seen you young ’uns around before. Are you new?’
‘Yes. We’ve only been here a week.’
Pearl’s surprise that the woman was obviously acquainted with the men and women of RAF Fenthorpe must have shown, for the woman chuckled as she released the clutch and steered the van back onto the road. ‘Oh, don’t mind me. I know just about everyone in Fenthorpe. That’s what comes of being landlady of the village pub. The name’s Norah Brumby, by the way.’
Pearl and Jenny introduced themselves and Pearl said, ‘You’re the pub landlady? I thought you must work on a farm.’ So much for her powers of observation.
Norah glanced sideways at Pearl, her eyes twinkling. ‘You’re a sharp one. My parents were farmers. My brother runs the family farm now, and I still get roped in to help every now and then, especially now they’re short-handed. Today I’m collecting a delivery of calomel dust.’
It didn’t take long to reach the station at Lincoln and, after Norah had told the girls the best way to the cathedral, she waved them off, extracting promises from them to visit the White Horse soon.
Pearl and Jenny, following Norah’s instructions, soon found the high street and followed it across the river. Only a few paces from the bridge, they saw a long white stucco building with a wrought-iron balcony running along the upper level. The lettering above the third-floor windows proclaimed it to be the Saracen’s Head Hotel.
‘That’s useful to know,’ Jenny said. ‘Now we shouldn’t get lost trying to find it later.’
Pearl nodded, noting its location not far from an impressive stone building built across the high street with a huge archway that allowed pedestrians and traffic through. In her head, she started to compose an article describing the essential sights of Lincoln that every tourist should visit.
They walked on, admiring the buildings, which appeared to get older the closer they were to the cathedral. Soon the road started to slope uphill, and, when they reached a steep cobbled street aptly named Steep Hill, Pearl knew a pang of homesickness as she was reminded of Wyle Cop in Shrewsbury. Above them, at the highest point of the city, the cathedral loomed, gilded in the last of the evening sunshine. As much as Pearl hated getting up in the dark, she was grateful for the double summertime that had been imposed at the start of the war, as it meant they still had enough daylight to enjoy Lincoln.
They puffed and panted to the top of the hill, then stood clutching their sides, taking in the view while they fought to regain their breath. To one side stood the cathedral, and the stone walls of the castle occupied most of the rest of the hilltop. Below, beyond the city’s smoky streets, the flat fields and hedgerows of Lincolnshire stretched out as far as Pearl could see. Spring had finally arrived, and the scenery was tinged with the palest green.
‘Who’d have thought there’d be a hill like this when it’s so flat around Fenthorpe.’ Jenny had recovered her breath and gazed out, her eyes reflecting the same sense of wonder Pearl felt.
Pearl opened her mouth to answer but then stopped as her eyes picked out a formation of bombers, some miles distant, heading east. Until then she had almost forgotten the war, and seeing the bombers was a sharp reminder of reality. ‘Come on. Let’s go and look inside the cathedral. It’s not long before we have to get back to the Saracen’s Head.’
Feeling calmed by the cathedral’s magnificent interior, Pearl felt ready to enjoy the pub and make new friends as they set out back down the hill.
‘Look, there are the others,’ Jenny said as they walked through the stone archway they had admired earlier. She pointed to the group of WAAFs who were approaching from the river and had nearly reached the Saracen’s Head. ‘Let’s go and meet them.’
Pearl took a couple of steps – then froze when she saw another young woman walk round the corner. Although she wore a WAAF greatcoat, she wore no cap and her auburn hair was brushed out in glossy waves that fell over her shoulders in a style that would have earned her a sharp reprimand had any officers been around. She would recognise that hair anywhere, not to mention the slender, upright figure and the pointed chin that was raised in an attitude that seemed to dare anyone to pick a fight with her.
‘You go on,’ Pearl said to Jenny. ‘I’ll meet you inside.’
‘What?’ Jenny turned wide eyes on her. ‘Why?’
With a jerk of the head towards the auburn-haired WAAF, Pearl said, ‘That’s my sister. I need to have a word with her.’
Thankfully, Thea wasn’t looking in her direction, or Pearl was sure she would try to evade her. She seemed to be trying to evade someone, though. She darted frequent glances at the doorway of the Saracen’s Head as she walked by with rapid steps, and Pearl was sure she was trying to stay in the shadows so she wouldn’t be noticed by anyone emerging from the hotel.
Pearl managed to draw level without her sister paying her any attention. She grabbed her arm. ‘What do you think you’re playing at?’
Thea stared at her blankly, then she blinked and seemed to recover from her shock. ‘That’s a nice way to greet your long-lost sister. I’m very well, thank you for asking.’
‘You wouldn’t be long-lost if you’d bothered to answer any of my letters. I’ve been trying to arrange a meeting with you ever since I got to Lincolnshire.’
‘Maybe I didn’t want you sticking your nose into my business.’
That stung. ‘I’m not sticking my nose anywhere. You’re my sister. I’ve been worried about you. Why don’t you write?’
‘I do.’
Pearl snorted. ‘Yes. Once a month if I’m lucky. And your letters are about as illuminating as a blackout lamp.’ She bit her lip and shook her head. What was it about Thea that always brought out the worst in her? They’d barely been together for a minute and they were already bickering like little children. ‘Look, I’m sorry,’ she hurried on before Thea, her eyes blazing, could add to the argument. ‘I don’t want to fight.’
‘Then don’t start one. It wasn’t me who nearly jerked your arm out of its socket and demanded to know what you were doing.’
Pearl couldn’t help herself. ‘Well, look at you. You could get into one hell of a row if an officer spotted you. Where’s your cap? And what possessed you to go out with your hair down?’ WAAF regulations stated that hair was not to touch the collar, and Pearl had already witnessed how strictly the rule was enforced at Fenthorpe.
Thea raised her eyes to the heavens. ‘And you ask why I haven’t been in touch.’
At that moment a breeze stirred the hem of her coat, and Pearl caught a glimpse of the clothes she wore underneath. Although she couldn’t see the whole outfit, it was clearly made of a close-fitting lightweight fabric in a decidedly non-regulation shade of crimson. ‘Good grief, Thea, you’re not even in uniform. Are you trying to get yourself thrown out of the WAAF?’
‘Don’t be so melodramatic. All the girls do it. As long as we’re careful, we don’t get caught.’
‘But you’re not being careful. Not with your hair like that.’
‘I wasn’t born yesterday. I didn’t walk out of Waddington like this.’
‘But—’
‘No.’ Thea pulled her arm from Pearl’s grip. ‘If you think you can swan into Lincolnshire and start bossing me around, you’ve got another think coming. I’m not a child any more – and, in case you’d forgotten, I’ve been in the WAAF longer than you. If you want to meet up and hear my advice, drop me a note. Otherwise, leave me alone.’ So saying, she stalked away, head held high.
Pearl made no attempt to follow. She knew Thea well enough to know there would be no reasoning with her while she was in this mood. After taking a moment to calm herself and blink away the tears of bewildered hurt, she went in search of Jenny.
‘I never asked how you got on with your sister.’
It was the following evening, and Pearl and Jenny were in Hut Three, on their weekly ‘domestic’ evening. Having swept and dusted all round her bed, Pearl was now polishing her buttons, using Silvo, as advised by several WAAFs, to give her buttons a more silvery sheen, while Jenny was mending a rip in one of her lisle stockings. It was the first opportunity they’d had for a conversation since Pearl had seen Thea.
Pearl applied more polish to each button, rubbing it into every groove, before replying. It had been packed in the Saracen’s Head, the bar a sea of airforce blue. At other times, Pearl might have been irritated by the noise, which made conversation difficult; last night she had been grateful that she didn’t have the chance to explain what had happened with Thea. Instead she had nursed her glass of lemonade and sat in a corner, watching Jenny hold an enthusiastic shouted conversation with another of the Met WAAFs. She had vaguely recognised a few members of Fenthorpe’s bomber crews and had wished she could speak to them, curious to get to know the men who daily flew into danger, but they were sitting at another table, occupied by some obscure game involving beer mats. In particular, her attention had been caught by a man with sergeant’s stripes on his sleeves and a pilot’s brevet above his left breast pocket. His uniform was a darker shade of blue than most of the other men’s, and she wondered why. He had a pleasant, friendly face, too. Approachable, she decided. While the other crewmen were so fresh-faced they looked as though they should still be in school, this man was a little older. In his late twenties or early thirties, Pearl thought.
‘Pearl?’
A hand waved in front of her eyes, and she jumped, then saw Jenny grinning at her. ‘You were miles away.’
‘Sorry.’ Pearl gathered her thoughts from her musings on the unknown pilot and turned them back to Thea. ‘My sister’s fine. Just determined to get herself in trouble, as ever.’
Jenny raised her brows. ‘I know I haven’t met her, but I thought she looked perfectly capable of taking care of herself.’
‘Trust me, she’s not. I was always having to get her out of scrapes at home, and she hasn’t changed. I mean, there she was, walking through Lincoln as bold as brass with civvies on under her coat without a thought about what would happen if she got caught.’
Jenny’s lips twitched. ‘It’s hardly a hanging offence. Plenty of other WAAFs have pulled that trick.’
‘They have?’
‘Oh yes. I’ve heard the Met WAAFs talking about it. I wouldn’t dare do it myself, but I can understand the temptation to wear a pretty frock to a special date.’
‘A date?’ It hadn’t even occurred to Pearl that Thea might have been meeting a man. Nightmare scenarios of her sister meeting a disreputable older man in a seedy bar flitted through her mind. The next moment her visions skipped to extortion or Thea being offered strong drink or – heaven forbid – drugs. The Shrewsbury Mirror had once run a story on young girls being lured into prostitution by smooth-talking men. What if a similar racket was going on in Lincoln?
Perhaps her horror showed in her expression, for Jenny patted her arm. ‘How old is Thea?’
‘Twenty-two. No, twenty-three now.’
‘That’s five years older than me. Do you think I need looking after?’
‘Of course not.’ Admittedly, at their first meeting Pearl’s heart had gone out to Jenny because she had thought her vulnerable and in need of a friend, but a week’s acquaintance had taught her that Jenny was perfectly capable of looking after herself. ‘You might be younger than Thea, but you’re much more mature.’
‘How do you know? Have you given Thea the chance to prove herself?’ Before Pearl could respond, Jenny continued, ‘Speaking as the youngest of five, I can tell you how irritating it is to always be treated like a baby by my older brothers.’
‘I wouldn’t treat her like one if she didn’t behave so irresponsibly.’ Judging by Jenny’s expression, she was never going to agree, so Pearl changed the subject. ‘You’ve got four brothers? That must have been a trial for your grandmother.’ She’d remembered just in time that Jenny and, presumably, her brothers had been brought up by their grandparents.
‘They were quite a handful.’
‘What do they do?’
‘They’re all miners. They wanted to join up, but couldn’t because they’re needed in the mines. Can’t say I’m sorry.’
Pearl nodded, thinking of the heavy casualties of the war so far. However dangerous working down a pit might be, it must surely be safer than being in the armed forces.
And so the conversation moved on to Jenny’s early life in the Forest of Dean and safely away from the trials of being Thea’s older sister. Still, after lights out, when Pearl was wriggling in her bunk to avoid slipping into the gaps between her ‘biscuits’, she couldn’t help thinking about what Jenny had said. Had she ever given Thea the chance to prove she was capable of taking care of herself? She had, after all, survived over two years in the WAAF. That had to count for something. Then she recalled how terrified she’d been seeing Thea clinging to that upturned coracle, drifting downstream on the Severn. If Pearl hadn’t been there to haul her in, she might not be alive today. Whatever Jenny might say, Thea was a danger to herself and needed to be kept in check.
Pearl shifted again, trying to find a comfortable position. She closed her eyes, willing sleep to come, but her meeting with Thea played itself out on the inside of her eyelids. The replay seemed to get stuck on Thea’s parting shot: I’ve been in the WAAF longer than you. If you want to meet up and hear my advice, drop me a note. Otherwise, leave me alone.
But Pearl had no intention of leaving her sister alone. If she was to stop Thea getting into any further trouble, she had to persuade her to agree to a meeting. That left Pearl with no option but to swallow her pride, write a conciliatory note and ask for Thea’s advice, much though Pearl scoffed at the thought of her sister ever offering any sensible ideas.