her.
‘It’s wonderful news, Raine.’ Suzanne rose from the table and gave her a hug.
‘You are clever,’ Ronnie said, eyes wide with delight. ‘Isn’t she, Maman?’
Raine looked her mother straight in the eye. Maman was leaning back in her chair as though she could no longer support herself. But in her eyes was an expression that made Raine recoil. She could only decipher it as a spark of envy.
‘Here we are.’ Her father came back into the room with the champagne. ‘We’ll have the best glasses, darling,’ he said to her mother.
‘I’ll get them.’ Suzanne jumped up – probably so she didn’t get drawn into the argument, Raine guessed. She watched as her mother took in a deep breath, her chest rising.
Here we go.
‘Lorraine, I have been thinking. Écoute. You remember Mrs Garland who is the proprietor of the beautiful dress shop in the arcade in Bromley? She said she would like to talk to you about working there. I told her you will soon be in your father’s firm, but she said, “Lorraine’s so tall and slim and so very attractive – just the right figure to be a model. She could earn more money than doing sums all day.”’ Her mother gave a tinkly laugh. ‘She said she would be ’appy to train you.’ She looked at Lorraine as though seeing her for the first time and nodded approvingly. ‘She is right, Lorraine, and I want you to think very serious … seriously about it. And do not concern yourself with your father’s wishes. I will persuade him.’ Then immediately her expression hardened. ‘Until then, I will hear no more about flying. You will not continue the lessons.’
‘I don’t think you quite understand, Maman. I’m not interested in selling dresses to dippy girls and vain women. I flew solo today. When I have enough flying hours I can take my test. Become a qualified pilot.’ She rounded on her mother. ‘Maman, can’t you understand that flying means the world to me. It’s the only thing I want to do with my life.’
Her mother’s eyes bored into her. ‘We will see about that.’
Raine realised it was not a bit of good getting on the wrong side of their mother. She held her mother’s glare as many seconds as she could bear, then lowered her eyelids. Best to let her mother think she still had the upper hand.
Suzanne returned with the best champagne glasses, saved from the old house, and set them carefully on the table. Their father popped the cork and filled each glass, handing the first to Raine and the second to his wife. Simone shook her head.
‘I have the ’eadache,’ she said, rising to her feet. ‘You must all celebrate – if that’s what you want to call it – without me.’ Her gaze swept over the table, then settled on Raine. ‘If we go to war with Germany again, your lessons are pointless. As a girl’ – she emphasised the word – ‘you will not be allowed to fly planes in the militaire. Thank goodness there is some sense still in this world.’
Raine looked at her mother’s rigid back as she left the table, then her eyes wandered to her father. He was staring after his wife, but to Raine’s surprise he didn’t follow her as he usually did. She was grateful for that small gesture of solidarity. Having her father’s approval was more than enough.
July 1939
Raine opened her eyes. They stung, as she’d barely slept a wink while fretting about the morning. And now tomorrow had come and she’d never felt less like taking a plane up. Sighing, she pushed the covers aside and got to her feet. It was still early so with luck she’d have the bathroom to herself for a few minutes.
No sound. No one was up. She shot into the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face, grimacing at the bloodshot eyes, then ran a shallow bath. Swiftly, she put on her rayon briefs and brassière, then tied the cord of her dressing gown firmly around her slim waist and went downstairs.
‘What is the matter, Lorraine?’ her mother asked at the breakfast table. ‘You look as though you have cried all night.’
‘Suzanne kept me awake with her heavy breathing.’
Her mother’s face softened. ‘Poor child. I think she has the sinus problem. You must be patient with her.’
Raine had the grace to feel guilty at such a fib. Suzanne had been as quiet as a mouse. Raine badly wanted to tell her mother she would be taking her pilot’s test this morning, but instead clamped her lips together. It never worked to be excited about anything if her mother wasn’t involved or hadn’t got some kind of control. And if she hoped for her mother to wish her good luck, she knew that was a wasted hope.
After breakfast Raine stepped into her overalls. She’d seen a lovely bright yellow flight suit on one of the other women at Hart’s who was also having lessons and she’d immediately longed for one just like it. But try as she had, she’d never been able to save enough money. Giving her mother ten shillings a week had put a stop to any luxury.
She had to pass. She just had to. Flinging a raincoat over the overalls in case she came face to face with her mother, she slipped out of the door and cycled to Hart’s.
‘You took a gamble last time I watched you,’ Doug reprimanded as they were walking over the airfield towards the planes. ‘You deliberately went into that loop the loop. You were jolly lucky not to have come a cropper. The engine has a reputation of stalling with that manoeuvre. More than one pilot has lost his life by doing that. And you’re even more lucky that I know you, and how good you are, and didn’t send you to the Chief.’ His eyes held a warning. ‘You’re not experienced enough yet to start doing fancy aerobatics, Raine, and the last thing we want is a fatal accident on our hands.
‘These planes are bloody expensive to repair or replace.’ He smiled wryly at her expression. ‘The RAF worries almost as much about the loss of an aircraft as it does the loss of a pilot. So no more showing off in the air. I mean it. Put your own safety first. Stick to observing weather conditions and be sensible as to whether or not you even attempt a flight until bad weather clears, and thoroughly go through the checks. If you do that, you’ll automatically keep both you and the aircraft safe.’
Doug was speaking to her now as though she was a wayward rebellious child. Maybe she was. She stuck out her chin. She’d often dreamed of doing the loop, but that day she’d dared, knowing it was against the rules but also sure that Doug wouldn’t report her. She wouldn’t have missed that feeling of pure liberation for all the world when she’d somersaulted.
‘I promise I won’t try it again,’ she said, trying hard to sound contrite.
Doug threw her a suspicious glance and sighed. ‘It’ll only be a matter of weeks – maybe only days if dear Mr Hitler has his way – and we’re in another world war, but at least you won’t be called upon as a pilot. That should be a comfort to your mother … and to me,’ he added unexpectedly.
‘But it seems such a waste if I can’t use my flying skills just because I’m a woman.’ Raine’s voice rose in indignation. ‘And if the war starts I won’t have a chance to keep up my hours.’
He studied her as though for the first time. ‘You know what, Raine? Even
