Chapter One

“I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve asked you this, Doris, but do you have any control over that bloody duck at all?”

Doris Winter, Air Transport Auxiliary pilot by day and fish ’n’ chips addict by night, stared up at her friend. “You know,” she mused, stroking the foul-minded fowl she was cradling in her arms, “I’m very impressed. I had no idea you could climb a tree so quickly!”

Scrambling a little, Penny gained a better handhold before treating her American friend to a glare which would freeze water, but which seemed to have little effect upon Doris. The ground was sodden with rain, as was Penny’s hair, and the water was beginning to run down the back of her neck, causing her to shiver. “Look, I need to get down from this tree before I fall down. Plus, we all need to get to work before Jane has our guts for garters.”

From the next tree along, Mary Whitworth-Baines made a grab for and failed to catch her ATA cap as it slid off her head, landing at Doris’s feet. “Damnation! Pick that up for me, Doris?”

“Can’t,” she replied, holding up the duck. “Got my hands full with Duck!”

Leaning over the front gate of her beloved The Old Lockkeepers Cottage, First Officer Betty Palmer reached over as far as she could before straightening back up and looking again at her two friends.

“It’s not funny!” Penny said, adding a scowl to her previous glare.

“Can you reach it?” Mary asked.

Betty shook her head, trying and failing to keep a laugh in. “It is, oh, it really is funny.”

“Maybe from where you are,” Mary allowed before turning her ire upon Doris. “Look, if you can’t at least pick up my hat—and I really wish you’d put that damn duck down—at least make sure a gust of wind doesn’t blow it into the river.”

“Will do,” Doris said, planting a foot upon the hat and earning herself a glare from Mary and another laugh from Betty, this time being joined by Doris.

Losing her patience, Penny snapped, “Doris! Either do something with Duck or, I swear, I’m looking at this Sunday’s dinner!”

“But he never means any harm,” Doris pleaded. “He was only playing.”

“Do I look like I’m having fun?” Penny snapped.

“Or me?” Mary added.

Betty raised a hand. “I am.”

“Not helping,” both Penny and Mary yelled at the same time.

The two unexpectedly raised voices so startled Duck that he let out a loud, “Quack!” and leapt from Doris’s arms in a flurry of wings and a few stray feathers. Before Doris could do anything about it, the slightly demented duck had landed in the river and was swimming off, issuing a long series of loud protests as it did.

“Situation resolved,” Betty announced, opening the gate and bending down to retrieve her friend’s hat. She looked up at the pair still up their respective trees. “Either of you need a hand getting down?”

After much scrambling, both pilots made it back to the ground with a minimum of scratches, though both confronted Doris once they were down. Only after Doris turned to face her friends, once Duck had disappeared from sight, did she take a step back, the expressions upon Penny’s and Mary’s faces being thunderous. Sensing quite rightly she needed to placate her friends, Doris put her best smile on her face. “Okay, look, um…” She stumbled over her words before trying again. “I’m sorry, really I am.”

“And your duck?” Penny demanded, shooting a look in the direction of her disappearing feathery nemesis.

Knowing when something had gone way past being funny, Doris nodded and bowed her head as she told them, “I promise. I mean, I’ll do my best to make sure Duck behaves. I can’t promise he’ll take any notice, but I’ll do my best.”

Penny, Mary, and Betty exchanged looks before facing their now nervous friend. Seeing this, the three pulled the American into a group hug.

“Good enough,” Penny told her, before taking a step back. “What do you say, Betty?”

Betty took a glance at her watch. “What do I say? I say, we get in to work before Jane sets a squadron of Spitfires upon us.”

****

When the group finally hurried into the canteen, they were met by the sight of a foot-tapping Flight Captain Jane Howell. Turning to her friend and second in command, First Officer Thelma Aston, she asked, “Correct me if I’m wrong, Thelma, but is that a feather in Penny’s hair?”

Leaning against the wall, Thelma glanced up from her cup of tea and couldn’t stop a grin from stretching her face. “Sure looks like it. What do you think happened?”

“With this bunch?” Jane shook her head. “Pretty much anything. Care to take a bet?”

Thelma also shook her head. “If I didn’t know them as well as I do, maybe. However, as I do, not a chance, boss.”

“Don’t blame you,” Jane told her. “Come on.” She took her friend under the elbow and made toward where the errant pilots were queueing for some breakfast. “Let’s go and see what the story is.”

Whilst they were speaking, the four had taken their trays and were settling at a table, though this only made it obvious they were doing their best not to catch either Jane or Thelma’s attention. This was confirmed by Betty doing her best to shush her friends into silence as the pair pulled up seats, though the effort was a waste of time, as both Jane and Thelma noticed.

“So, girls, what’s today’s reason for nearly being late?”

Doris shot Jane what she obviously thought was a winning smile. “We’re only nearly late, then. Do we need to have an excuse?”

“Perhaps not,” Jane agreed. “Maybe I should ask about the feather in Penny’s hair, then?”

Penny’s hand immediately shot up.

“A little more to your left,” Thelma supplied helpfully. “That’s it,” she told her as Penny’s fingers came away.

“I think it’s one of Duck’s,” she mused, holding it up toward the early morning light coming in through the window.

“A duck’s?” Thelma asked.

Doris shook her head, reaching out to take the feather from her friend. “No, I think she means it belongs to Duck.”

“Who’s Duck?” Jane enquired, just as confused as Thelma.

“You’re on your own,” Betty piped up between sips of hot and tasteless tea. “I wash my hands of the whole affair.”

“Only because you weren’t chased up a tree this morning,” Mary put in, confusing matters further.

Jane and Thelma looked at each other, but neither could make head or tail of what was said. “Do you ever wish you’d never asked a question?” Jane asked Thelma, sighing, and Thelma nodded in agreement. “Never mind the jest about not being late. Please can someone explain what on earth this duck is?” Jane pleaded, holding out her hands for and receiving Mary’s cup of tea in sympathy.

“This is all yours,” Penny told Doris.

Doris shrugged before turning her attention to an expectant Jane and Thelma. “You know there’s this duck down by the cottages, which follows me and doesn’t mind being held?” Somewhat dubiously, they nodded. “Well, as he seems to like me, I decided to name him—or her, I’m not totally sure,” she added.

“And ‘Duck’ is the best you could come up with?” Jane asked in disbelief.

Nodding enthusiastically, Doris tried to make them understand. “It’s not like it comes when I call, so what’s the use of giving a normal name to something, in that case?”

After a few moments’ silence, Jane turned to her friend and said, “Of everything you could have told me—and I can’t quite believe I’m saying this—that makes a strange kind of sense.”

Betty’s slice of bread and butter flopped to the table as its owner stared at Jane in disbelief before shaking her head. “It does?”

Jane nodded, then clarified, “As much as anything which comes out of this one’s mouth ever makes sense.”

Everyone at the table dissolved into laughter at the expression of affront which their American friend tried to pull.

“Oh, very funny! Keep that up, Jane, and I’ll take you off my bridesmaid list.”

Jane recovered enough to shake her head. “It’s what, the second of February, and the wedding is on the fourteenth. That gives you less than two weeks to find a replacement. I don’t think you’d find someone else to put up with your shenanigans as much as I do, in that time.”

Doris looked around the canteen. Barring themselves, the room was empty. “There’s always Mavis?”

Betty shook her head. “I wouldn’t, if I were you. By all means invite her, but if you give her a bigger role, I can see her wanting to take over the catering, and…well, if her cooking’s anything like her tea…”

Remembering what she was drinking now, Jane pushed the cup away. “I must be getting old,” she grumbled.

“Or losing your taste buds?” Penny suggested.

“Or losing my taste buds,” Jane agreed.

“How are the wedding plans going?” Thelma asked.

Doris planted her chin on her hands and sighed. “As dreamily as wartime allows,” she told them. “The banns have been read, the padre’s got over the shock of a Yank marrying a Brit—I think he thought the law banned it—Betty’s made me a lovely dress to wear to the ceremony.”

“Hey, if I’m going to be on the right side of the law now, I may as well make use of some old skills,” Betty told them with a warm smile.

“And Walter and I very, very much appreciate it,” Doris said, patting Betty on the arm. “Now, all we need to do is find somewhere to have a small honeymoon,” she added.

“You’ve still not found anywhere?” Mary asked.

Doris shook her head. “Walter’s being a little…awkward.”

“Let me guess,” Jane ventured. “He doesn’t want you to spend a load of money.”

“Spot on.” Doris nodded. “It’s not like I ever spend anything…”

“…apart from for fish ’n’ chips,” Betty interrupted.

“…apart from that,” Doris agreed, “and that’s a given. I’ve offered to buy a little cottage up in the north of Scotland, so we can all make use of that later. Only he thinks that’s a bit much at the moment.”

“Tell me. Is he ever going to be happy with how much you’re worth?” Mary asked.

“Oh, he’s getting better. He seems to have accepted I’m a millionaire. It’s just the getting used to spending any of it over a few pounds here and there that he’s not used to yet.”

“Have you come up with any other ideas?” Jane wanted to know.

“I’ve an idea,” Mary piped up, but was interrupted by Thelma holding up a hand.

“I think we’ll have to wait to hear that, Mary, sorry. Jane, it’s past time when this lot need to make steps, or they’re going to be late for the taxi.”

Jane looked at her watch, got to her feet, clapped her hands together, and leant her hands upon the table. “Thelma’s right. Mary, sorry, tell us your thoughts later. In the meantime, get to work, you lot. The war won’t wait for your convenience.”