of jobs to involve you in the various aircraft. I think you’d find something to interest you.’
‘But they won’t allow women pilots,’ Raine said flatly.
‘That’s true.’
‘Then I’m not interested.’
‘I thought that’s what you’d say,’ Doug said. ‘Well, forget it for the moment. I’ll hand you over to the chief flying instructor for your test. In fact, there he is … walking towards us right now.’ He bent his head and kissed her cheek. ‘Good luck, Raine. You have the makings of an excellent pilot. You’ll pass – I’m sure of it.’
Anxious that she had the eyes of the instructor tracing her every movement, Raine carefully carried out all the solo test manoeuvres to the book. Although her landing wasn’t quite as perfect as she would have liked, she didn’t think she’d performed too badly on the whole.
The instructor nodded to her without a hint of whether or not she had made a satisfactory test flight. Instead, he asked her to follow him to his office where he fired questions at her for half an hour, noting down her answers.
‘I think that will be all, Miss Linfoot,’ he said, rising from his desk as her indication to leave.
‘Thank you very much, sir,’ Raine said, willing him to give her an idea as to how she’d performed.
‘You’ll be hearing from the CAG in a fortnight or so.’ He nodded his dismissal.
After what Raine considered was enough time for her licence to arrive – that is, if it was ever going to – she watched for the postman every day before anyone came downstairs.
On day eight she collected the post from the mat. There was one for her mother and one for her – from the Civil Air Guard. With shaking hands she opened it to find a short letter wrapped around her pilot’s licence. This was it. No word of congratulation. But she didn’t need any. She’d passed! Class C – whatever that meant. But whatever it meant, now she was truly a pilot.
Her heart pounded as she remembered Doug’s words about being a comfort to her mother. She didn’t want to be a comfort to anyone. She wanted to play her part if there really was going to be a war. And going by the headlines in her father’s newspaper, the government was preparing for it to happen any day.
There must be some use for her as a pilot, even if she wasn’t allowed to fight Jerry. But she wouldn’t tell anyone in the family just yet that she had her licence. She’d keep that delicious secret to herself until the time was right. And then she’d show them.
A month later, Friday, 1st September, Germany invaded Poland. Although everyone expected it, it was still a shock to hear such terrifying news. Raine’s second shock was the unexpected announcement at Hart’s that all civil flying had now stopped for the duration of the war. She wouldn’t be able to add to her solo hours. She might even lose her skills. If that wasn’t bad enough, the RAF took over the running of Biggin Hill. She prayed they would let her keep her job at the airfield as a civilian, and decided her best bet was to turn up every day and keep her head down.
Sunday, 3rd September 1939
Every morning and evening her father turned on the wireless to hear the news. Raine had begun to make it a habit to join him in the front room of the cottage. This morning she looked up from the crossword puzzle she was doing in yesterday’s Daily Telegraph, her glance falling on Suzanne who sat nearby on a straight-backed chair clicking her knitting needles. She was making a scarf for Ronnie who refused to listen to the news and was out on her bicycle, even though they’d had thunderstorms in the night. Maman was in the kitchen so it was only Dad, Raine thought, who looked properly attentive. She bent her head over the crossword again, but with her ear cocked for the latest news.
‘At eleven o’clock this morning, on the BBC, the Prime Minister has a serious announcement to make,’ came the clipped tones of the newsreader, startling Raine from her concentration.
‘That’s it, then.’ Her father threw his daughters a look of absolute despair.
‘What is?’ Suzanne stopped knitting, the stripy scarf falling in a heap on her lap.
‘Announcement that we’re at war, do you think, Dad?’ Raine said, biting her lip. She couldn’t believe they were even speculating such a horrifying event, but after Friday’s shocking announcement on the wireless that the Nazis had invaded Poland, it was surely inevitable.
‘I’m certain of it now.’ Her father flung down the morning’s newspaper in disgust. ‘This will all be stale by the time we hear what Chamberlain’s got to say.’ He stood, his expression heavy. ‘I hoped right up until we heard about Poland that it could be staved off, but that’s it, now.’ He blew out his cheeks. ‘I’d better tell your mother to make sure she’s here in two hours’ time.’
He left the room, shaking his head in disbelief.
‘Do you really think that’s what the Prime Minister’s going to announce?’ Suzanne said, her face pale.
‘I don’t see what else it can be, now Germany’s invaded Poland,’ Raine said. ‘We promised Poland if that ever happened, Great Britain and France would stick together against Germany. It’s too serious a promise to break.’
At five minutes to eleven Raine’s father switched on the wireless again to warm it up. As soon as the pips came, no one spoke. In the gravest tone, the Prime Minister began to speak.
‘This morning the British Ambassador in Berlin handed the German Government a final note stating that unless we heard from them by eleven o’clock that they were prepared at once to withdraw their troops from Poland, a state of war would exist between us.
‘I have to tell you now that no such undertaking has been received, and that consequently this country is at war with Germany.
‘You can imagine what a bitter blow it is to me that all my long struggle to win peace has failed.
‘The Government have made plans under which it will be possible to carry on the work of the nation …’
Raine’s mind was working furiously. She didn’t hear much of the rest of Mr Chamberlain’s speech until she heard him say:
‘… in the days of stress and strain that may be ahead. But these plans need your help. You may be taking your part in the fighting services or as a volunteer in one of the branches of Civil Defence. If so, you will report for duty in accordance with the instructions you receive. You may be engaged in work essential to the prosecution of war for the maintenance of the life of the people – in factories, in transport, in public utility concerns or in the supply of other necessaries of life. If so, it is of vital importance that you should carry on with your jobs.
‘Now may God bless you all and may He defend the right, for it is evil things that we shall be fighting against – brute force, bad faith, injustice, oppression and persecution – and against them I am certain that the right will prevail.’
There was a crackling noise, then the words ‘air-raid siren.’ Her father switched the wireless off.
Maman was the first to break the silence with a stifled sob. ‘Where is my baby? Where is Véronique?’
‘She’ll come back any minute
