Kerry Barrett - The Hidden Women

He leaned closer to me.

‘I just wear what she tells me to wear,’ he said, in a low voice even though there was no one around to hear him. ‘I’m hopeless with fashion and stuff. She gets a stylist to buy me clothes.’

He looked down at himself and then back at me with a funny, embarrassed grin. ‘What do you think?’

‘Of the clothes?’ I stammered. ‘Oh, nice. You look, erm, great.’

Jack smiled properly now. ‘So do you,’ he said.

I felt a blush crawl up my neck and on to my face so I turned away. ‘Service records,’ I said hurriedly. Thank goodness I never met the celebrities if I developed thumping big crushes like this one on them all.

‘Service records,’ Jack echoed.

We had access to so many databases, that it was hard to keep track. We used most of the Second World War ones often, but I’d never had the need to search the ATA archive before. I hoped that meant none of my colleagues checked it very often either and no one would notice me searching for a Miles family member.

It took me a while to find the right site, then check the folder where we stored all our shared logins and type it in.

When the site eventually loaded, I breathed out in relief. It was formatted exactly like most of the Forces sites. ‘It’s all very easy,’ I explained. ‘We just need to search for the name and the dates. Your grandfather …’

‘No, do Lilian first,’ Jack said. ‘Go on – I really want to know if she’s your aunt.’

With hands that trembled slightly, knowing I was doing something wrong and that Fliss would be furious if she caught me, I typed Lilian Miles and 1940–45 into the search bar and pressed return.

It took a while, but it brought up just one result. Lilian Miles , it said, 15/10/23 , Air Transport Auxiliary . I gasped.

‘That’s her,’ I said. ‘That’s Lil’s date of birth.’

‘Click on it,’ Jack urged.

I shook my head, wobbling again over what I was doing. ‘I don’t need to,’ I said. ‘We know it’s her now. We don’t need to know any more.’

‘You said you might be able to work out if there was anything upsetting from looking at the records,’ Jack pointed out.

‘I don’t want to,’ I said.

But Jack leaned across me and clicked on Lil’s name, and the screen filled with details. It had Lil’s personal information – her date and place of birth, her age when she joined up, and where she did her basic training.

I glared at him, but I wasn’t really cross. It was too interesting.

I scanned the page, trying to take it all in. Lilian had done so much when she had been so young. And then, right at the bottom of the screen was what I assumed was the reason for Lil never mentioning her time in the ATA.

Jack saw it at the same time as I did.

‘Ah,’ he said.

There, in large capital letters, it said: DISHONOURABLE DISCHARGE.

I stayed stock-still as Flora drew a line up the back of my calf.

‘It tickles,’ I giggled.

‘Don’t move,’ she warned. ‘I’ve got very steady hands but I can’t keep it straight if you wiggle. There, done.’

I twisted round so I could see her handiwork. I’d covered my legs in gravy browning. Flora’s addition – which was more gravy browning, but made up to a thicker paste – made it look like I was wearing nylon stockings.

‘Not bad,’ I said, approvingly. ‘Shall I do you now?’

‘Make sure it’s straight,’ Flora said. She hitched up her skirt and I took the narrow brush from the pot and started to draw.

‘Are you excited?’

I concentrated on keeping the line straight. ‘I love dancing,’ I said. ‘You know I love music.’

‘Maybe you can get up on stage with the band.’ Flora chuckled. ‘Show them all how it’s done.’

‘Maybe,’ I said, wishing I could. I missed playing piano more than anything else. There was a church hall in the nearby village with a rackety old upright in the corner and sometimes I sneaked in there, but it wasn’t the same.

‘When this bloody war is over, I’m going to play the piano every single day,’ I told Flora.

She smiled over her shoulder at me. ‘I’m going to wear stockings that dogs don’t want to lick,’ she said.

From across the hut, Annie joined in. ‘And I’m going to wear clothes that fit,’ she said, hitching her belt a notch tighter. Our rations didn’t seem to be going as far any more and we were all far skinnier than we’d been when the war started.

‘All done,’ I said, finishing Flora’s seams.

She peered over her shoulder and clapped her hands in pleasure. ‘Gorgeous, darling,’ she said. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind us tagging along with you and Will?’

I shook my head vigorously. ‘Not in the least,’ I said. ‘He seems nice enough, but I don’t want to be getting into romance and complications. Not here. Not now.’

Flora turned round and gazed at me, her blue eyes unblinking. I thought she was going to ask me if I was being completely honest, but she didn’t and I was grateful. Instead she squeezed my hand.

‘We’ll stick together,’ she said. ‘Like the Three Musketeers.’

I grinned. ‘One for all and all for one,’ I said. I threaded my arm through hers and then through Annie’s and we walked to the door, ready to go and meet Will.

He was waiting by the mess hut, laughing with a couple of other mechanics and smoking a cigarette.

‘Evening, ladies,’ he said, straightening up as we approached. ‘Lilian.’

I nodded to him. ‘Will,’ I said.

We fell into step as we walked down the short road to where the dance was being held. We could hear the music as we got closer and my spirits lifted a bit.

‘Like dancing?’ Will said.

I smiled. ‘I love it.’

Inside the hall was pulsing with life. We’d all been flying non-stop for weeks, getting planes in position for the landings on the beaches in France. We’d not known what was happening of course – we only found out afterwards. But we were proud to have played a part in something so important. The hard work of the last few weeks, though, meant everyone was desperate for some fun – and from the look of the hall they were already having it.

The men mostly wore RAF uniforms. They were jiving with girls in bright red lipstick, their hair shining and, I saw with a relieved smile, gravy browning on their legs. There were a few GIs; I guessed they were passing through. They were getting a lot of attention with girls flocking round them like bees round a honey pot. Some of those girls, I couldn’t help noticing, wore actual Nylon stockings. On the stage was a small band with a pianist, a drummer, a trumpet player and a female singer. Like I always did – and knowing I was being stupid – I scanned their faces, pausing a second longer on the pianist, just in case.

Will steered us over to a table in the corner. ‘Have a seat,’ he said. ‘I’ll get some drinks.’

‘Want to dance?’ Flora said.

I shook my head. ‘Not yet, I just want to sit here and soak it all up.’ It was ages since there had been a dance near enough for us all to go to. ‘You go – I’ll be fine.’

‘Sure?’ Flora looked concerned.

‘I’m sure,’ I said. ‘Will’s just gone for some drinks and you’ll be right over there.’

Flora, Annie and Will’s friends swirled off to the dance floor and I sat drinking in the atmosphere. I loved everything about it. The heat coming off the dancers, the cloud of smoke from people’s cigarettes, the buzz of conversation fighting with the music from the band. Everything. I thought I’d like to play in a dance band one day. If I ever got tired of flying.