A Flight of Golden Wings (7 page)

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Authors: Beryl Matthews

BOOK: A Flight of Golden Wings
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At that moment Jack Nelson fell in love with the country he had just arrived in, a country and people he had chosen to help in their struggle against the sweeping tide of Nazism. His contribution would be small, but he was glad he’d come. He hadn’t quite been able to work out Don’s reasons for coming here. He expressed concern about the Nazis, but Jack had a feeling that he was after excitement. They had met for the first time on the conversion course and he’d found out that Don flew cargo – anything and anywhere. The man seemed to crave adventure and he must have thought he could find it here. But whatever his friend’s motive, Jack was sure of his own, and it was desire to help in any way he could. There was no way he could have remained in his comfortable world. The dire reports he had listened to on the wireless had driven him to come here.

Feeling quite shaken by the emotions running through him, Jack fished in his pocket for a pack of cigarettes and held it out to Simon. The quiet man had said very little, and Jack didn’t expect him to in this crush. He was very aware of the notices plastered everywhere –
Careless Talk Costs Lives
. When Simon took a cigarette Jack held his lighter for him, then lit one for himself. Don was busy trying to get to know a couple of girls in army uniform, but Jack had no need to while away the time in that way. He would get to know people soon enough, but for the moment he wanted
to be quiet. His gaze returned to the window. Soon he would be flying over scenes like this, and he couldn’t wait.

Jack wasn’t aware of time passing, but suddenly the beauty was no longer there. The train was now rumbling slowly through bombed and smoking ruins.

‘My God!’ Don now had his face pressed to the window next to Jack. ‘What a mess!’

‘Welcome to London,’ Simon said with a grimace. ‘They took another battering last night.’

There were murmurs running through the crowd as everyone studied the devastation.

‘The bastards!’ a young sailor exploded. ‘I told my missus to get out, but she won’t go. Says she’s safe down the Tube stations at night, and they ain’t chasing her out of our home.’

There were nods all round at this declaration, and Jack guessed that many of the men and women going on leave were in a similar situation. They must never know what they were going to find, or if their homes would still be standing. He tried to imagine how it would be if his ma and sister were living here, but they weren’t; they were safe in America, and he was having a hard time getting his head around this. But he knew one thing: he would be as mad and concerned as the people around him. And the angrier they became the harder they would fight. Hitler had made serious blunders in his assessment of this country’s determination. He should have invaded immediately on the heels of Dunkirk, but he hadn’t, and his hesitation had lost him the advantage. The man was a fool, and that would eventually lead to his defeat.

The train finally eased into the station and the passengers disgorged, all anxious to get to their various destinations. There weren’t any station names up as far as Jack could see, so he had no idea where they were. It was just the same outside the station. All the road signs had been removed.

Don scratched his head, looking round. ‘How do you find out where you want to go?’

Simon guided them down a road. ‘We didn’t want the Germans to know where they were if they landed. If you come up on your own any time you can always ask a policeman or Air Raid Warden.’

‘Yeah, right.’ Don grinned at Jack. ‘That should be quite an adventure.’

Their momentary amusement didn’t last long as they made their way past one bombsite after another.

‘That’s recent.’ Jack pointed to a shell of a building still on fire, and as they watched, a wall came crashing down, filling the air with dust and smoke. Rescuers were still digging in one ruin, looking for survivors. It was a sight that would always be vivid in his memory. ‘One report I heard said that London was ablaze night after night. Now I believe it.’

Simon nodded grimly. ‘And if we stay tonight, you’ll see for yourself.’

‘What a day! The visibility was terrible.’ Ruth sat at the kitchen table and rested her head in her hands. ‘Thank heaven for railways lines! And if the weather hadn’t cleared enough for me to get a lift back, I’d have been stuck up north for the night.’

‘Get lost, did you?’ Tricia plonked a mug in front of Ruth. ‘Drink that and you’ll soon feel better.’

Ruth’s nose twitched as the aroma caught her attention. She took a sip to make sure her senses weren’t deceiving her. ‘Coffee! Real coffee! Where did you get this?’

Gussie, who now lived with them permanently, rubbed her hands together in glee. ‘The weather was so bad that I got lost as well. I was almost flying on empty when out of the gloom I spied an airfield. It was White Waltham. After I’d landed, Simon introduced me to a couple of Americans who arrived two weeks ago. One of them had packets of American coffee in his bag and he gave me one.’

The look of pure innocence on Gussie’s face made Ruth suspicious. She had a lively and unpredictable nature, and a habit of involving them in all sorts of crazy schemes. There was more to this than a generous gift, and when Ruth saw Tricia smirking as well, she was sure of it. She narrowed her eyes and asked, ‘What have we got to do for it?’

‘Nothing!’ Gussie declared forcefully, then shrieked with laughter. ‘Oh, you ought to see your face, Ruthie! Now would I get you into any kind of trouble?’

‘Yes!’ Ruth and Tricia declared together.

‘I just turned on the charm and … I had to make a
tiny
promise – but not one you’ll object to,’ she added hastily.

‘How tiny?’ Ruth was having difficulty maintaining a stern expression. Gussie was incorrigible, but very easy to forgive.

‘They’re all going to a dance tonight in Maidenhead, and I promised the three of us would go.’

‘Just a minute, Gussie, you said there were two Americans, but there are three of us – four if Ellen gets back.’

‘Ellen’s had to go back home because her mother’s very ill,’ Tricia told her. ‘I doubt if we’ll see her again.’

‘Oh, that’s a shame. Let’s hope her mother soon recovers. Anyway, that still leaves three of us.’

‘Simon’s going as well.’ Tricia was busy inspecting her nails, then she looked up and winked. ‘I’ll look after him.’

Ruth was intrigued. ‘Oh, I didn’t know you had your eyes on him.’

‘Don’t get me wrong, Ruth, it’s nothing romantic, but I like him and he’s a good dancer.’

‘And I’ll keep Don company.’ Gussie picked up Ruth’s empty cup and poured her another cup of fragrant coffee.
‘Jack Nelson’s yours. Just wait until you see him.’

‘I dread to think what he’ll be like,’ Ruth muttered. This second cup of coffee looked very much like a bribe. ‘How are we going to get there and back?’

‘Don said he’d come and collect us.’

‘What in? A bomber?’

Gussie roared. ‘I wouldn’t put that past him!’

Ruth couldn’t believe this. ‘It’s quite a way, you know, and we’ve got to get back in time to report for duty in the morning.’

Gussie pulled Ruth out of the chair. ‘Oh, you are a worryguts, Ruthie. I don’t know what they’re going to arrange, but Simon will be there and he’ll make sure we get back all right. Now, go and sort out your best frock. We’ve all been working hard, so let’s have some fun tonight.’

With a resigned shrug, Ruth stood up, pushing away her tiredness. There was never any point arguing with Gussie when she was in the mood for a night out. And anyway, she was right: they were due for a break.

‘Don’t pinch all the hot water!’ Tricia called as Ruth made her way up the stairs.

‘First one to the bathroom gets a bath!’ Ruth shrieked as she heard a stampede behind her. The stairs were so narrow she knew they couldn’t get past her. Scrambling up the last few steps she shot into the bathroom and slammed the door, locking it securely behind her as her friends threatened dire action if they were left with cold water. Her desire to do nothing for the evening had disappeared. They would have a good time tonight, regardless of whatever unattractive man they had dumped on her for the evening.

 

They were ready and waiting by seven o’clock, wondering how they were going to get to Maidenhead if their promised lift didn’t arrive. Now she was dressed up Ruth was looking forward to the evening. She wished she had her car. Perhaps she’d bring it next time she went home. The petrol ration was meagre, but it could be saved for occasions like this.

The time passed and it was nearly eight when Tricia looked at the clock again. ‘Are you sure they’re coming for us, Gussie?’

She nodded firmly. ‘Don told me he’d fix it. These Americans are very enterprising.’

‘I’ll bet they are,’ Ruth muttered under her breath, but the girls heard anyway.

‘Don’t you like them?’ Tricia asked.

‘I like the ones I’ve met very much. It’s just the one Gussie has set me up with I’m suspicious about.’

Gussie looked up at the ceiling in mock despair. ‘He’s gorgeous, you dope. Do you think I’d lumber you with someone obnoxious?’

‘Yes, and if he’s so wonderful, why haven’t you grabbed him for yourself?’

‘Because Don is lively and fun. Jack’s quieter. The steady type, I’d say, and much more suited to you, Ruthie.’

Tricia grinned at the expression on Ruth’s face. ‘I don’t think you’re doing a very good job of convincing her, Gussie.’

‘She isn’t, but at least he’s a pilot, so he must have some brains.’

‘Oh, he’s got more than that.’ Gussie’s wink was wicked, and then she got up and peered out of the window. ‘How about if we commandeer one of the taxi planes for tonight?’

‘Oh no you don’t!’ Ruth and Tricia pulled Gussie away from the window and made her sit down. ‘You are
not
going to get us in trouble tonight.’

‘We’ve all done our night-flying tests, and the conversion course for Masters and Oxfords—’


No!
’ Tricia raised her voice to emphasise the refusal. ‘You’ll get us chucked out of the ATA with a stunt like that.’

‘If they don’t come within the next half an hour, then we could all go to the pub,’ Ruth suggested.

‘That’s a good idea.’ Gussie nodded approval. ‘There’s a nice RAF pilot who goes in there regularly.’

Ruth and Tricia groaned.

‘How can one person have so much energy?’ Tricia asked Ruth.

‘It’s a complete mystery to me,’ Ruth replied.

‘What’s that?’ Gussie shot to her feet and rushed to the window. ‘He’s here and he’s got his hands on an RAF truck!’

They all crowded to have a look as the vehicle stopped outside the cottage. A man jumped down, followed by another.

‘Simon’s come with Don.’ Gussie rushed to open the front door with Tricia right on her heels.

When the men came in, Ruth studied the American. He was of average height, with dark hair and pale blue eyes that shone with devilment. Attractive enough, Ruth admitted, but Gussie was right: he looked just the type for their exuberant friend. The other one hadn’t bothered to come, so she’d have to wait a bit longer before she met him.

After being introduced, Ruth smiled at Simon. ‘How did you get hold of the truck?’

‘Borrowing the truck was easy enough, but filling it
with petrol was quite another thing. That was down to our American friends. They promised the RAF boys plenty of partners for the dance if they could have the “gas”, as they call it, so they’ve been out scouring Maidenhead for girls.’

‘And have they done that?’

Simon’s shoulders shook in silent amusement. ‘I’d say so. I counted twenty being helped out of the truck before we came for you.’

Don urged everyone out of the door, eager to get going. When he tried to climb into the driver’s seat, Simon stopped him. ‘I’m not risking the girls’ lives with your driving; they’re too valuable. You were on the wrong side of the road nearly all the way here.’

‘I kept forgetting you drive on the other side.’ Don gave way easily with only a smirk on his face. ‘I’ll go in the back with the girls.’

They soon sorted themselves out with Simon and Tricia in the front and the rest of them in the back. Ruth made herself as comfortable as possible in the bouncing truck. Simon was obviously in charge of this little expedition and keeping a rein on the flamboyant natures of Gussie and Don.

The dance was in full swing when they arrived, and as soon as Ruth heard the sound of the band her feet started tapping. She loved dancing, and if the American Gussie had lumbered her with didn’t dance, there were plenty of other partners. The men outnumbered the girls. It looked as if everyone was off duty tonight. She scanned the faces, waving now and again to people she knew. The ATA were out in force.

They started to push their way through the crowd when
someone crashed into Ruth. The man next to her had been holding a full pint of beer, and as she fell against him the glass shot in the air and liquid covered the front of her frock. Ruth was horrified. Gussie had urged her to put on her best frock, and she’d done just that. Now it was ruined.

‘Gee, honey, I’m sorry.’

The dancer who’d caused the disaster had produced a white handkerchief from his pocket and was busy trying to mop up the mess. Furious, she pushed his hand away. ‘Stop it! You’ll make it worse. And don’t call me honey.’

‘I’m real sorry, ma’am. That’s delicate material. I’ll buy you a new one if it can’t be cleaned.’

Ruth glared at him in disbelief. ‘This is pure silk and bought in Paris just before the war. It can’t be replaced.’

He reached out again to dab at the spoilt frock.

‘I said leave it!’ With a growl of fury she turned away and made her way over to the bar where the rest of her friends were busy trying to get drinks.

‘Ruth!’ Tricia gasped when she joined them. ‘What’s happened to your beautiful frock?’

‘Some idiot Canadian bumped into me and a man nearby poured his drink all over me. Just look at it! It’s ruined!’

‘What are you having, Ruth?’ Simon had managed to get to the front of the queue.

‘Something strong, and a glass of hemlock for that tall clumsy oaf with the fair hair.’

Gussie followed Ruth’s furious gaze. ‘Oh dear, you don’t mean the man making his way towards us, do you?’

‘Yes! And if he dares to come anywhere near me again …’ She noticed Gussie’s expression. ‘Do you know him?’

‘Er … yes, actually, that’s Jack Nelson, the American I told you about.’

‘Well, one meeting with him is enough. Don’t let him anywhere near me, Gussie. The blasted man’s dangerous!’ She watched as her friend waylaid Jack and talked to him earnestly.

‘It doesn’t look as if you’ve taken a liking to Jack.’

With a drink in her hands Ruth told Simon what had happened.

He sipped his beer and then said quietly, ‘It’s only a frock, Ruth, and I’m sure you have plenty more.’

‘You’re saying I’m overreacting?’

‘Well, aren’t you?’

‘Oh, damn, Simon, why do you always have to be so sensible? But you’re right, what does one frock matter – even if it is special. However, if that’s the man Gussie has tried to fix me up with, then I’m not interested.’

‘That’s a shame. He’s a good man, Ruth.’

‘I’ll take your word for that, Simon, but I would rather not have anything to do with him. What’s he doing here, anyway? America started conscription at the end of October, and Roosevelt has been elected for another term as President. Why isn’t he in his own country?’

‘All that happened just after he arrived here, and if you’re suggesting that he might have signed up for the ATA to avoid his responsibilities at home, then you’re quite wrong.’ Simon’s voice was reproachful. ‘It isn’t like you to be so judgemental, Ruth.’

She suddenly felt ashamed. ‘Oh, I’m sorry. You’re quite right. I shouldn’t have snapped at him. It
was
an accident.’

‘And one I’m sure he regrets.’ Simon finished his beer and
put down the glass. ‘Let me tell you about Jack Nelson. We met some time ago at an air show. He’s a damned good pilot and a likeable man. I was delighted when I knew he was coming to sign up for the ATA. He’s a qualified instructor, and just the type we are crying out for. I met him and Don at Liverpool and took them to London. There was a bad raid that night, and a building near us was flattened. We were in a cellar, and as soon as the dust had settled, Jack was out there digging in the ruins to help find those trapped. He never stopped until everyone was out. The raid was still going on, but he never thought of taking cover again. He cares, Ruth, and that’s why he’s here.’

She groaned. ‘Now you’re making me feel even worse. I’ll apologise during the evening.’

‘Good enough.’ Simon nodded, and then wandered off just as Gussie and Tricia joined Ruth with more drinks in their hands.

Gussie handed her another beer. ‘Jack’s really upset about the accident, Ruth. Won’t you reconsider and let me introduce you to him? He wants to meet you very much.’

‘Why?’

‘Because, apart from being a stunning-looking girl, you’re a bloody good pilot and, if the truth be told, one of the best we’ve got in the women’s section.’

‘Where on earth did you get that idea?’ Ruth was stunned.

‘It didn’t take us long to recognise your skill. Most of us climb in a plane and just fly it, but you don’t. You have a special feel and seem to become a part of the aircraft.’

Ruth’s eyes narrowed as she studied Gussie. ‘How many drinks have you had?’

‘She’s right, Ruth,’ Tricia said. ‘Everyone says the same
thing. Pretty soon they’ll
have
to let us fly operational aircraft, and you will be chosen to be one of our pathfinders.’

The three girls were now in a huddle, the dance forgotten as they discussed the subject close to their hearts – the right to fly Spitfires and Hurricanes. There was talk about this radical step, but those in authority were still resisting the idea. The women’s section of the ATA was determined to break down this barrier.

‘And once we do that there will be no stopping us.’ Gussie’s face was glowing. ‘I can’t wait to get my hands on a Spitfire.’ They all nodded in agreement.

‘We can fly anything!’ Tricia declared. ‘And the sooner the men realise that, the better.’

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