by Molly Green
Raine smiled. As she’d suspected, it didn’t sound as though Suzy had found herself a boyfriend at all. She quickly finished reading her sister’s letter about Maman keeping occupied with her friends and her knitting and trying out new recipes, all the while grumbling about several food items that weren’t rationed but were probably about to be by the scarcity in the shops. Even milk was being controlled, so Maman wrote. Raine had only had two brief notes from Ronnie. She was never a letter writer, being too impatient to sit at the table for half an hour.
After the first month of silence Maman had written regularly and dutifully, but the letters were all about her and how difficult life was without her father. Raine pursed her lips. If only her mother would take up something useful. See how well off she was compared to so many others. But in her last letter her mother had actually said she missed her and hoped she’d be home to spend Christmas, at least, with her family. Surely there won’t be any need to deliver planes over Christmas, Maman had finished with a huge question mark.
When Raine stepped through the front door, Suzanne and Ronnie ran to meet her. After hugs and kisses, Raine said, ‘Where’s Maman?’
‘You won’t believe it!’ Suzanne said, laughing. ‘She’s teaching a group of young women to knit. A weekly class. Apparently they’re making scarves but Maman is showing off with her first jumper.’
Raine chuckled. ‘Well, at least she’s doing something practical to keep her busy.’ She paused. ‘Has she been keeping well? No symptoms of any heart trouble, I mean?’
‘Nothing,’ Ronnie said, her cup clattering in the saucer in annoyance. ‘That was all a great big fib to keep us here. We all know it, including Maman, and I find it hard to forgive her. I still can’t believe she tried to pull such a trick. Whatever would Dad have said?’
‘He’d have been horrified.’ Suzanne shook her head. ‘But Maman must have panicked, thinking she’d never be able to cope on her own. We mustn’t forget that she totally depended on Dad. It must have been a terrible shock to have him one day and gone the next. But I think she’s improving.’
‘You always stick up for her, Suzy,’ Ronnie said. ‘It was a shock to all of us, not just Maman, but she shouldn’t have told that lie. It wasn’t fair to make us so worried about her when we’d only just lost Dad. Especially trying to stop Raine from flying.’
‘I’m sure she only did it because she was terrified something would happen to you.’ Suzanne turned to Raine, her eyes filled with concern.
‘I suppose that’s part of it,’ Raine conceded, ‘but I think she’s desperate to control us, now Dad’s gone. She doesn’t seem to have enough faith in herself to be able to function without him.’
‘I think Maman’s jealous of you,’ Ronnie said, ‘because you’re doing your dream job.’
‘You do come out with some daft things sometimes, Ronnie,’ Raine said teasingly, then gave a start. The expression in Maman’s eyes when she’d told the family at the supper table that she’d flown solo that day … It had crossed her mind at the time there might have been a spark of envy. Maybe Ronnie was right. Maybe Maman hadn’t ever fulfilled her own dreams. Raine swallowed, resolving to have more patience with her mother. Maman hadn’t had that easy a life – if Dad’s hints in his letter to her were anything to go by.
‘And if it hadn’t been for bumping into Dr Hall, you wouldn’t be at Hatfield,’ Ronnie went on, warming to her theme.
‘I really thought at the time she had something serious,’ Raine said soberly, ‘and had resigned myself to stay at home – especially with Dad asking me to look after her.’ She paused. ‘Supposing I’d had a husband? Would she still have tried to drag me away?’
‘I’m sure that would have been very different,’ Suzanne said. ‘But it’s turned out all right. Ronnie and I are both still at school, and I’m here most evenings when I’m not rehearsing, though I don’t know how much longer Maman will be able to afford my lessons. And she can only take so much of my practising when I’m at home.’
‘It’s what we all want for you, Suzy,’ Raine said. ‘Our sister, the musician. You love it more than anything, don’t you?’
Suzanne nodded. ‘It’s my life.’
‘You’re both doing what you want to do,’ Ronnie said, ‘and I still don’t have a clue.’ She worried at her lower lip. ‘Though I’m still serious about joining the Land Girls when I’m seventeen … if the war’s still on.’
‘Have you spoken to anyone else about it yet?’ Raine said, inwardly hoping Ronnie hadn’t, ‘because it’s backbreaking work. You should speak to someone who’s doing it.’
‘Well, I’m more or less a Land Girl now,’ Ronnie laughed. ‘All the veg we’re having at Christmas is from yours truly … dirty nails and all.’ She spread her hands out to show her sisters.
‘That’s all very well, but when you’re mucking out the cowshed, you might just change your mind,’ Raine said.
‘No, I won’t. I like being outside with nature and animals. Just as you like being in the air.’ She looked at Raine. ‘Do you really love flying?’
‘I wouldn’t do anything else in the world.’
‘Have you met any handsome pilots?’ Suzanne asked.
‘They all look handsome in their uniforms.’ Raine smiled, immediately thinking of Alec. Then she remembered someone else who’d made an impression on her for the way in which he’d been so nice to her even when she’d been short with him. ‘Actually, I did meet a handsome one not long ago. Dark hair and warm brown eyes. He was foreign – maybe Polish, and very well-mannered.’
‘He sounds lovely,’ Suzanne breathed, looking dreamy as though she was picturing him. ‘What was his name?’
‘I don’t know. He wanted to tell me but I wouldn’t let him.’
‘Whyever not?’ Suzanne demanded.
‘Because …’ Raine swallowed hard. She didn’t want to tell them the truth as they’d start worrying about her safety, but they were waiting for her answer. This was the real world. It was no use forever trying to protect them. ‘Do you remember me talking about a friend of mine called Doug, who taught me to fly?’
Her sisters nodded.
‘I didn’t tell you. It didn’t seem right in a letter. But he crashed his plane in France. It must have burned him alive.’ She swallowed, hardly believing what she was saying.
‘Oh, that’s so sad,’ Suzanne said, her eyes filled with tears. ‘What a shock for you.’ She got up and put her arms round Raine and gave her a hug. ‘We didn’t meet him but he sounded so nice. And I’m sure Maman was worried that something like that would happen to you … which is not impossible,’ she added. ‘And if you had a horrible accident—’
‘I’m not going to, silly,’ Raine broke in swiftly, hugging her back. ‘My job’s not nearly so dangerous as the ones the boys up there are doing.’
‘Promise you’ll be careful.’ Suzanne’s words were coated with anxiety.
‘I promise.’ Raine’s eyes moistened. ‘I still can’t believe it about Doug,’ she said. ‘How can anyone die when they love life the way he did?’
Suzanne was silent. ‘It’s hard to imagine,’ she said finally. ‘But you’ll just have to remember the good moments. He wouldn’t want you to be sad.’
‘I know you’re right, but it’s still hard.’
‘But now you’ve told us about Doug, you can’t pretend it’s not dangerous,’ Ronnie chipped in.
‘My job is not so risky,’ Raine said, not wanting to alarm her sisters. ‘I don’t have to fight anyone.’
Alec’s face danced in front of her. Taking photographs of the French coast, she imagined, but she wouldn’t be at all surprised to know he flew as far as Germany, though of course he never mentioned it. He’d have to keep a lookout for German fighters and being unarmed, he’d only be able to dodge them and clear out as fast as possible. Luckily, the Spit was designed for that very purpose.
As though Suzanne knew what her sister was thinking, she said, ‘Do you ever bump into
that fair-haired pilot?’ A mischievous expression took over her pretty features. ‘The one with incredible green eyes – who you were horrible to at the dance? Alec, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ Raine said reluctantly.
Please don’t question me about Alec.
Ronnie was looking at her sisters with curiosity. ‘I don’t know about any pilot with green eyes … or warm brown ones,’ she added, her mouth turning down a little peevishly. ‘I’m not so young that I can’t be part of those sort of discussions.’
‘As a matter of fact, I have seen him – the green-eyed one,’ Raine laughed a little self-consciously, ‘a couple of times.’
‘You have? Oh, how exciting.’ Suzanne clapped her hands in glee. ‘Are you going out with him?’
Her sisters were looking at her with wide eyes and Raine couldn’t help chuckling.
‘No, Suzy, I’m not. I had supper with him once, that’s all. He wanted to celebrate that I’d just delivered my first Spitfire. So there’s no need to get excited, both of you, because there’s nothing serious in it.’
‘I bet there is where Alec is concerned,’ Suzanne teased.
‘And who is Alec?’
The three girls turned to see their mother standing in the doorway. Raine’s heart fell. Maman was looking straight at her.
She moved to give her mother a kiss.
‘Well, it’s nice you’ve been able to get a few hours off to come and see us,’ her mother said, allowing Raine’s kiss to settle on her cheek.
‘I’m here for Christmas,’ Raine said, reminding herself not to let her mother needle her.
Her mother gave her a brief kiss. ‘That’s nice. We’ll be a family again.’ She became tearful. ‘Except for my dear Robert.’ She studied Raine. ‘But who is Alec? A boyfriend? And if so, why haven’t you brought him home to meet us?’
‘First, because he’s not a boyfriend,’ Raine said firmly. ‘And second, because I’m sure he has his own family to go home to.’
Immediately she’d uttered the words she remembered about his sister who’d died. And his mother who wasn’t well. Her heart going out to him, it struck her that she didn’t know if he was able to take any leave to spend Christmas with his parents. She hoped he wouldn’t be alone on Christmas Day, at least. Then she berated herself for being soft. Alec hadn’t been in touch since that last evening.
‘That’s a shame,’ Maman said. ‘I would like to meet him.’
‘How are the knitting classes coming along?’ Raine asked, hoping to steer her mother off anything too personal.
Her mother elegantly sank into a chair.
‘I thought they wanted me as a teacher but they can all knit perfectly well,’ she said, her lips pursed with aggravation. ‘They have all knitted since children and laughed when I offered to show them how to cast on. They said they didn’t do it that way, and it must be because I’m French. I may not go back again.’
‘Maman, you always take everything so personally,’ Ronnie said. ‘I’m sure they didn’t mean anything horrid.’
‘And I am sure they did.’ Her mother’s eyes sparked. ‘Non, I will never understand the English. But I will find something else to do where I am treated with respect.’ Her face softened as she looked at Suzanne. ‘And how was your lesson today, chérie?’
‘My teacher had to cancel because her mother is poorly. She had to catch a train as her mother lives quite a long way away – Bath, I think.’
Her mother leaned back in her chair, her eyes closed. ‘She sounds like a very kind daughter,’ she said.
Raine rolled her eyes.
‘I’ll get you a cup of tea, Maman,’ Suzanne said, going towards the kitchen.
‘Impossible. I cannot drink one more cup of tea today.’
‘Well, as we’ve almost gone through the week’s tea ration, maybe that’s just as well,’ Ronnie said.
After lunch the telephone rang in the hall and Ronnie jumped up to answer it. Raine, who was ironing a blouse on the dining room table, could distinctly hear her sister’s voice. She held her breath and cocked her ear.
‘Yes, operator?’ After a long pause Ronnie said, ‘Miss Linfoot? There are three Miss Linfoots and I’m one of them.’ Raine heard her sister giggle. Another pause. ‘Lorraine? Yes, she’s here. Who shall I say it is?’
Raine put the iron on its pad and went into the hall, her heart beating rapidly. Could it be Alec? But he didn’t have her telephone number.
‘It’s a Mr Adamson,’ Ronnie mouthed, cupping the receiver and frowning.
Not Alec. Raine’s shoulders drooped in disappointment.
‘Oh, he’s my host at my digs,’ she said, adopting a cheerful tone and taking the receiver. Hoping nothing unpleasant had happened to Mrs Adamson, she said, ‘Hello, Mr Adamson.’
‘Good afternoon, my dear. I’m sorry to disturb you, but I’m very concerned about Stephanie.’
Raine frowned. ‘Why? She’s been doing so well since she came out of hospital.’
‘It’s not her health,’ came Mr Adamson’s hesitant voice. ‘But she hasn’t come down from her room. It’s Christmas Eve and I have the feeling she’s not been invited anywhere. She’s not mentioned her family or going home. And my wife says her eyes are red and swollen.’
‘Is she in her room now?’
‘Yes. Would you talk to her?’
‘Of course.’
‘I won’t be a mo,’ Mr Adamson said, relief clear in his voice.
Less than a minute later she heard a mumble and then Stephanie came on the phone.
‘Lorraine?’
‘Yes, it’s me. Are you all right?’
‘Yes, yes, I’m all right.’
She didn’t sound it, Raine thought. ‘Mr Adamson seems quite concerned about you.’
‘Well, he mustn’t. He has enough to cope with looking after Mrs Adamson. She’s getting very forgetful.’
‘It was Mrs Adamson who first noticed you’d been crying and told him,’ Raine said. ‘What is it, Stephanie?’
‘Oh, the family – I’m … well, I’m not going to see them this Christmas.’
‘Is this your decision?’
‘Not exactly.’ Raine heard Stephanie snuffle.
Raine hesitated. Stephanie sounded upset. And she’d been through such a lot with that awful carbon monoxide poisoning. Should she …? Before she could change her mind, she said, ‘Would you like to spend Christmas here with me and my two sisters … and my mother, of course?’
‘Oh, would you really have me?’ Stephanie’s voice lifted. ‘Are you sure it wouldn’t be too much trouble?’ Before Raine had a chance to reply, Stephanie said, ‘What about your mother – would she mind?’
Raine grimaced. She had no idea what her mother would have to say about it, but she couldn’t let Stephanie be on her own for Christmas.
‘Not at all. We’d be delighted to have you.’ She quickly gave Stephanie her address. ‘Then it’s settled,’ Raine said. ‘We shall see you tomorrow morning. Will you come on the train?’
‘I’ll see if I can cadge a lift to Biggin Hill and take it from there,’ Stephanie said, sounding more like herself.
Raine put the receiver down and set her shoulders as she walked back to the sitting room.
‘Who was on the telephone, chérie?’ her mother asked.
‘Stephanie, one of the pilots. She sounds lonely and is having to stay at our digs over Christmas.’
‘Why do you not invite her here?’ Simone said immediately. ‘We have enough food.’
‘Actually, I did, hoping you wouldn’t mind.’
Her mother frowned. ‘Do you think I am such an ogre, Lorraine? It will be a treat to have a new face at the table.’
Privately, Raine thought her mother might regret the invitation, but it was too late now. If she knew Stephanie, the girl would already be packing. And in a strange way Raine was glad she’d have someone from the station to talk to. And glad that she was able to do something nice for Stephanie.
&n
bsp; Chapter Twenty-Four
‘Put that ruddy light out!’
Cross with herself, Raine flew to the sitting room window and opened the sash. A gust of icy air hit her nostrils as she looked out to see an ARP warden glaring up at her in the fading light.
‘Sorry,’ she shouted, and he nodded and briskly moved on to catch the next careless person.
She drew the blackout curtains together more firmly and cast a critical eye round the sitting room. It didn’t strike her as very Christmassy, with just a few cards on the mantelpiece, although there was a glittery one from Linda who’d enclosed a letter. She’d escaped the clutches of Foxy at Biggin Hill and joined up. She sounded happy with her life in the ATS.
‘They call us the Ack-Ack girls,’ Linda wrote. ‘Short for anti-aircraft gunfire. And every time one of our guns go off I imagine it’s another bullet in Foxy!’ Raine couldn’t help laughing at that one. Curvy, feminine little Linda, out there in the field doing what would once have been called men’s work. Linda finished her letter with, ‘Did anything more come from his threats to you?’
She must drop a line to Linda and tell her how she enjoyed hearing her news, and no, thankfully, she’d heard no more of Foxy, and nor did she expect to. Pauline Gower’s complaint to his superior, if that’s what had happened, had obviously done the trick.
Carelessly placing a sprig of holly over the top of a landscape painting that hung above the fireplace did little to enhance its dull appearance, Raine decided, as she stepped forwards to look at the painting more closely. More than once she’d wondered about it. It showed what looked like part of an old covered bridge over a river.
In her opinion the view was uninspiring – but if she ever passed a remark Maman always reminded her it was a valuable original that she’d brought over from France and was not to be touched by anyone except herself. So what was so special about it? It was competent, but the artist was no genius, she didn’t think. For the first time she peered closer and just made out the name of the artist: Pièrre Brunelle. She’d never heard of him. She turned her attention back to the room.