he only wanted to dictate a letter, although Foxy dictating was as bad as deciphering his writing. He’d march back and forth across the floor, mumbling and gabbling, then would say nothing for a whole minute – just turn and stare at her. She wrinkled her nose as she knocked on his office door.
‘Please, sit down.’
Something in his tone alerted her. He wasn’t about to dictate any letter. He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers, and studied her. His gaze lowered to her legs, then back up her body to her face. She loathed everything about him – those pinprick cold grey eyes piercing through her, as though sucking out all her problems, laying them bare and grinning at them, but she would not be intimidated. She tried to imagine him naked – she’d read somewhere that it helped when you were in such a situation – and almost giggled at the image dancing in front of her.
‘Have I egg on my chin or something?’
‘What?’ She managed to recover herself. ‘Oh, sorry, sir, I was—’
‘Never mind that,’ he said abruptly. ‘I have something to discuss with you. I understand you’re a qualified pilot.’
Her heart leapt.
‘Yes, sir, I have my licence.’ She couldn’t stop the note of pride that pervaded her answer.
He nodded and picked up a sheet of paper from the top of a pile, his eyes flicking from one side to the other, taking his time.
As though he hasn’t already read it.
‘This letter …’ he waved it in the air, ‘is from the ATA – that is, the Air Transport Auxiliary.’
‘Yes, I’ve heard about it,’ Raine said coolly, though inside her heart was beating fiercely, silently thanking God that Doug had explained who they were.
Foxy gazed at her as though he couldn’t believe she was not some empty-headed slip of a girl. ‘I’ll give you the thrust of it,’ he said, breaking off to wink at her. ‘It’s from a Miss Gower. Apparently, she’s in charge of a ferry pool …’ he rolled his eyes that a woman should be in charge of something so important, ‘and she urgently requires pilots. She’s even asking for women as well as men.’ He stared at Raine. ‘My God, she must be desperate.’
Don’t annoy him, Raine. Let him think he has the upper hand.
‘She needs highly experienced pilots, of course.’
Raine’s heart dropped. She hadn’t flown for nearly a year. But at least this Miss Gower was asking for more women. Those eight female pilots must be doing a good job. It gave her a sudden hope.
‘Does she say how many flying hours … sir?’
Please let me have enough.
He sent her a steely gaze. ‘How many hours do you have, Miss Linfoot?’
‘Twenty-five.’ It was actually nineteen, but she wasn’t going to tell him that.
A smirk crossed his thick lips, but he said nothing.
Was her dream about to come true – or be smashed to pieces? He was deliberately keeping her in suspense.
‘How many hours does Miss Gower require?’ Raine asked, her heart beating hard.
Foxy glanced down at the letter again. ‘I’m afraid Miss Gower requires pilots with two hundred and fifty … minimum.’ He sent her a triumphant look. ‘So you only have ten per cent of her requirements.’ He paused to let that sink in. ‘I’m afraid we will have to put that idea aside.’ His mouth twisted.
‘But with the war, surely—’
‘I’m afraid there’s no more to be said.’
She could see her chance slipping away before her.
‘Please, sir, if I could—’
He held his hand palm upwards towards her. ‘I’m sorry, but you simply don’t have enough experience. And by the time you increase your hours the war will be over. Without any help from women.’ Before she had time to react, he said, ‘But there’s something else I want to talk to you about.’
The tone had become ominous. Raine deliberately kept her eyes on him, trying to ignore her thudding heart.
‘I’m afraid …’ he paused as though for effect (dear God, if he said he was afraid one more time she would cheerfully throttle him), ‘we no longer require your services at Biggin Hill.’
Her jaw dropped. She hadn’t been prepared for this. His eyes were narrowed in malice. What a nasty little man, enjoying the power he had over her. She could have kicked herself for threatening him. This was his moment of triumph. Her punishment for daring to stand up for herself. Well, she wasn’t going to go down without a fight.
‘Doesn’t my time here count for anything?’ she said in as reasonable a tone as she could muster. ‘I’m showing the ropes to a new girl who’s supposed to be helping me now we’re busier, but she has a lot to learn before she can be left on her own. And she can’t possibly do my job and hers.’
‘Miss Rogers is perfectly capable of being left,’ he said in a firm voice. ‘And there is always someone around if she needs advice, or indeed any help. Me, for instance.’ He gave her what passed for a smile. ‘I’m sorry, Miss Linfoot, but I’m giving you notice. You have until the end of the week to hand over all your work to Miss Rogers and explain everything she needs to know. But for now, please give me your key to the filing cabinet. We wouldn’t want any nosy parkers let loose in my office, would we?’
He held out a pasty hand.
Raine could barely hide her fury as she returned to her office. Only Linda Rogers was there, frowning over a stack of files on her desk. She looked up as Raine stormed in.
‘Whatever’s wrong?’
‘Only everything,’ Raine said, biting her lip hard to stop herself from bursting into tears of frustration and anger. She caught Linda’s stare. ‘Foxy’s just given me notice to be out by the end of the week.’
Linda’s eyes widened. ‘Why? What are you supposed to have done?’
‘It seems I’m no longer required. That you’re perfectly capable of doing my job … as well as yours.’
As she was speaking she put the cover over her typewriter and retrieved her handbag that was tucked underneath the desk. She swung it on her shoulder and turned to Linda.
‘Right, then, I’m off. Best of British and all that.’
‘But you said the end of the week.’ Linda came round from her desk. ‘I can’t do the job without your help. And anyway, I don’t want to be stuck in this office on my own with hardly anyone around. When anyone does come in, they just dump stuff on the desk, give me a wink and a smile as though that’s all that’s needed to set me up for the day, then rush off.’
Raine felt sorry for Linda. She’d be leaving the girl
