for all the world like a glamorous film star. How her mother was going to tighten her belt, heaven knew.
‘Thank you, chérie.’
Raine hummed as she poured a cup for herself.
‘You sound very happy today, Lorraine.’ Her mother gave her a sharp look before glancing out of the window at the grey clouds. ‘And on such a morning where it looks as if it will storm.’ She turned round. ‘So why are you so cheerful?’
Raine knew that tone in her mother’s voice. She tried to laugh it off.
‘I’m always happy when I go to the library,’ she said, ‘and that’s where I’m off to.’
‘But you went Saturday.’
Careful, Raine. Maman is already suspicious.
‘I know. I didn’t like what I’d chosen, after all.’
Her mother regarded her thoughtfully, her forehead creasing into a frown.
‘Your hair needs cutting,’ she said finally. ‘It looks most untidy. I will cut it for you this morning since we cannot afford the ’airdresser.’
Alarm rose in Raine’s throat. ‘Maman, I want to go to the library this morning before it gets busy, so you can cut it this afternoon, if you like.’
‘Yes, I do like,’ her mother said. ‘But I like to do it this morning. Until then I will return to my bed. I did not sleep well. Please wake me at half past ten with coffee. This tea tastes ’orrible.’ She swept out.
Raine gazed after her mother. She was sure Maman suspected she was up to something. Well, she was not going to sit docilely while her mother, who had never cut anyone’s hair in her life, hacked at hers this morning. She liked her hair long. She could tie it back from her face or put it up out of the way. She wasn’t going to have Maman’s experimental haircut. No. She had an appointment at Biggin Hill aerodrome and no one – not even Maman – was going to stop her from keeping it.
Raine wasn’t concentrating as her feet automatically pedalled along the lane. A steady drizzle seeped under the collar of her jacket. Her mind was far above in the dark clouds when a rabbit shot in front of her. Swerving across the road to avoid it she landed in a ditch, mud and water clinging to her and the bicycle.
Damn. That’s all I need.
She managed to push the handlebars to one side and climb out, then hauled the bike up. On inspection, she noticed the handlebars were at the wrong angle. She tugged them hard in the opposite direction, but they didn’t budge. Disappointment flooded through her. She’d hardly slept all night, she’d been so excited when Doug had offered to put in a word for her about working at Biggin Hill. She’d be with other pilots – telling them how she longed to learn to fly. Fancy him being one of the instructors at the flying club. And now, when she didn’t turn up, Doug would think she’d lost interest and not bother with her again. Tears sprang to her eyes.
I’ll walk, she told herself fiercely. It can’t take more than an hour, even wheeling the bicycle. But after twenty minutes of pushing the heavy bike she felt a sharp pain stabbing her right arm. She must have fallen more awkwardly than she’d realised. She paused for a minute and impatiently rubbed it, but it only gave her slight relief. She glanced at her watch. Already ten past nine. She would never make it by ten.
Well, it was no good bawling. She’d have to thumb a lift in a lorry or something that could take her bicycle as well.
She stood out on the road, but the only large vehicles were buses that carried on past her to their next scheduled stops. Biting her lip in frustration, her right arm beginning to throb, she made a pact with herself. If nothing suitable comes after five more cars, I’ll stop the next one – whatever it is – even if I have to dump my bicycle.
It was a pony and trap. The driver doffed his cap as the pony clopped by. ‘Morning, miss.’
‘Oh, please stop,’ Raine called desperately.
‘Whoa, there, Matilda,’ he called, pulling the reins as he addressed the horse. ‘Let’s ’ear what the young lady ’as to say for ’erself.’
‘Are you going anywhere near the aerodrome?’
‘Would that be Biggin Hill?’
‘Yes.’
He looked at her. ‘And what would you be doing on an aerodrome, miss?’
‘I work there.’ It wouldn’t hurt to tell him such a fib. ‘But I’ve had an accident on my bicycle and if I don’t get there soon I’ll be late.’
‘You’ll be telling me you’re one of the pilots next.’ He grinned, showing more gaps than teeth. ‘I’m picking up our Ellie but you’re welcome to climb in the back.’
‘Can I bring my bike as well? It’s a bit banged up.’
‘Course you can.’ He grinned again and jumped down. ‘Hang on. I’d better give you a hand.’
He helped her climb in, then picked up the bike, grunting a little as he hoisted it in the air and heaved it into the trap. Raine steadied it against the side as he took up his position.
He turned round. ‘All set?’
‘Yes.’
‘Righto. Off we go.’ He cracked a whip and the pony set up a plodding pace.
It seemed as though they’d gone miles along country lanes before he eventually halted outside a row of terraced cottages and whistled. A woman of indeterminate age wearing a long black skirt and cardigan, slippers on her feet, came to the doorway of the first one.
‘That’s our Ellie.’ He nodded towards the woman. ‘Hey, Ellie,’ he shouted. ‘Get a move on. We’ve got a guest in the back who needs to get to the airfield – sharp!’
The woman nodded and disappeared. A couple of minutes later she came out with a basket on her arm and wearing a pair of scuffed lace-up shoes. She struggled up the step to the spare front seat and turned to look at the ‘guest’.
Raine smiled and said hello, but the woman whispered something to the old man. He shook his head.
‘She tells me she works over yonder at Biggin Hill – the airfield,’ he explained to the woman. ‘She’s damaged her bike, so I’m giving her a lift.’
‘But—’
‘Be still, Ellie. We’re giving her a lift and that’s final.’
Raine’s stomach fluttered with anxiety. Would the woman make her step down? Maybe the best tack would be to keep quiet. She peered at her watch again: seven minutes to ten. She swallowed. If the driver had diverted much to pick up Ellie, whoever she was, Raine knew she’d had it. She’d never get to the aerodrome on time.
She willed herself not to look at her watch any more, but to her relief it was only fourteen minutes past by the time the driver steered his horse off the road to the right, where her heart lifted as she saw the planes lined up at the far end, ready for
