Molly Green - A Sister’s Courage

‘Maman, I’ll be eighteen in June. No longer a child. So please let me decide whether I want my hair cut or if I’d like to change my library books, or other normal things an adult chooses to do.’

‘Not while you are under my roof and not until you are twenty-one,’ her mother retorted.

‘Then perhaps the best thing for all of us would be for me to pack up and leave.’

She heard Suzanne and Ronnie gasp.

‘You will do nothing of the kind.’ Her mother’s eyes flashed with anger. ‘But I will speak to your father when he is home about your insolence.’

‘What’s all this about not obeying your mother?’ Raine’s father asked her that evening when her sisters were in their rooms busy with their homework.

Her mother had gone to visit a woman she’d met in the village baker’s who spoke French.

Raine told him as briefly as possible about her weekly visits to the aerodrome, without mentioning she’d been up in a plane again.

‘One of the pilots, Doug White, said there might be a job going for me,’ she finished.

‘Doing what?’

‘Just general … something clerical, I expect.’ She didn’t want to use the word ‘dogsbody’ or her mother would have another fit.

Her father paused to light his inevitable cigarette. Raine knew it was to give him time to think.

‘I believe this is something we don’t need to discuss with your mother,’ he said finally, taking in a deep drag of the cigarette. ‘But I’ll come with you on Saturday to meet this chap.’

‘Oh, Dad, don’t come with me,’ Raine said, horrified. ‘He’ll think I’m a complete baby.’

‘No, he won’t. If he’s genuine, he’ll know that I’m a concerned father who wants to make sure his daughter will be safe and happy … and not taken advantage of.’

Her father and Doug got along as though they’d known each other for months instead of having just met. Doug took them to meet Flight Lieutenant Hartman, in one of the administration buildings, who asked Raine many questions about her school subjects and what she enjoyed. She tried to reply as intelligently as she could.

‘Hmm, you have impressive results for your School Certificate and your recent test,’ he said, folding the paper and handing it back to Raine. ‘But don’t you want to finish school? Take your Higher Certificate?’

She shook her head.

‘I wish she would,’ her father said, to Raine’s exasperation. ‘And so does her mother. But she’s bent on getting her pilot’s licence, so she needs to work to pay for the lessons.

Hartman looked straight at Raine. ‘Well, there’s nothing to stop you having flying lessons on the civilian side, but you know that as a female you’ll never fly with the RAF as a pilot, even if they form a women’s section.’

‘Yes, I know that,’ Raine said, fighting a bubble of irritation.

It was so unfair. But she refused to use the word ‘never’ in her vocabulary. Women used to think they’d never get the vote, but thank goodness a few women had been iron-willed in their fight to change the law. And after years of battling it had finally happened. So she could dream that things might change one day as far as women flying for the RAF was concerned.

‘I can offer you the job of a pay clerk,’ Hartman went on, ‘which might or might not make use of your mathematic skills.’ He looked at her. ‘However, the pay isn’t much – nineteen shillings a week.’ He leaned forward over his desk. ‘How does that sound?’

To Raine it sounded a fortune and she had to will herself not to look too thrilled.

‘It would be wonderful, sir,’ Raine started, ‘especially if you could make it a whole pound a week.’

That would pay for a weekly flying lesson, leaving fifteen shillings over – ten shillings a week to her mother and she’d still have a few shillings in her pocket.

Hartman gave her a startled look, then burst into laughter. ‘A girl who’s not afraid to speak up for herself,’ he said, glancing at her father. ‘Well, Mr Linfoot, have you any objections to this single-minded daughter of yours?’

Her father caught her eye and smiled. ‘I think she’s already made up her mind, and far be it from me to stand in her way.’

‘Then the matter is settled.’ He scribbled a note and glanced at the wall calendar.

‘There is just one more thing, sir,’ Raine said, desperately hoping he wouldn’t consider she was trouble with so many requests. But this was the most important of all. ‘What time would I finish each day?’

‘Normally, half past five.’ He looked at her. ‘Is there a particular reason why you ask?’

‘Yes. I intend to take weekly lessons at Hart’s Flying Club,’ she said. ‘I’ll need to cycle there but it’ll be dark by then.’

‘You’ll have Saturdays off and I’m sure they offer lessons at weekends, as well.’

‘It’s just that my mother isn’t keen for me to fly and she’d want to know where I was going every Saturday. I don’t want to worry her unnecessarily, so long as Dad knows where I am.’ Raine held her breath.

She noticed Hartman catch her father’s eye. Her father nodded.

‘We’ll soon be changing the clocks,’ Hartman said, ‘so if we say you may leave once a week at half past two, would that suit? Without altering your pound a week,’ he added with a twinkle.

Raine breathed out. ‘Oh, thank you very much, sir. It’s just that flying is what I want to do more than anything in the world …’ She hesitated.

‘Another question for me?’

‘Only when can I start?’

‘Soon as you like.’

She turned to her father with shining eyes. He sent her a wink.

‘Would tomorrow be all right, sir?’ Raine asked.

‘Good to see someone who’s keen.’ Flight Lieutenant Hartman stood and shook hands with her father, then smiled again at Raine. ‘We’ll see you here at eight o’clock sharp tomorrow morning then, young lady.’

April 1939

Raine loved this new world she’d entered, loved hearing the thrum of planes taking off and landing as she rushed over the aerodrome taking messages, or set to tackling the bursting filing cabinet in between learning to be a pay clerk. She’d hoped to see a bit more of Doug, but he’d left a note to say he was taking some leave and would see her when he got back. Oh, and he hoped she was enjoying her new job.

The new job, if she was honest, didn’t need much of a brain to do it, although there was plenty to keep her occupied. Sometimes she felt more like a tea lady after she’d made the dozens of cups of tea demanded by the people in both her section and two other sections every day. She wasn’t ungrateful, not one bit, but she couldn’t help wishing her work took her closer to the aircraft.

Thankfully, her father merely told Maman that Raine had found a job in a busy office in Biggin Hill with no mention of an aerodrome. Raine knew that name would mean nothing to Maman. She also knew her mother wouldn’t bother to ask where the office was or any details about her work. This time, her mother’s seeming indifference would work nicely in her favour. Raine couldn’t help a wry smile.