4

  It took a couple of days for Sarah and the new residents of Goodwill House to settle into a routine. She was frantically busy organising things, teaching her mother to cook the basics and keeping the vast house reasonably tidy.

  Flight Lieutenant Trent had called in whilst she was busy elsewhere but he hadn’t stayed long. Mummy was very taken with him but she certainly wasn’t. He’d seemed too sure of himself, overconfident, and had been rather patronising when speaking to her. In the lull between serving luncheon and starting to prepare supper, Sarah was sitting in the kitchen ticking off today’s list of jobs.

  ‘I’ve been thinking, darling, that if the weather improves sufficiently to make it viable then I’ll accompany you to the dance. I rather like the sound of this Wing Commander Billings – it would be wonderful to have the opportunity to dress up and dance with a suitable gentleman.’

  If her mother had announced she was going to run naked around the house, Sarah couldn’t have been more shocked by this announcement. ‘I wasn’t intending to go, Mummy. They won’t be our sort of people.’

  ‘Good heavens, when did you become such a snob? Weren’t you telling me just the other day how much you resented not being able to make friends with the girls from the village?’

  ‘I’ll rephrase that. There are probably fewer RAF officers at the base – which means the bulk of the men wanting to dance with us will be ordinary airmen. I’m not saying they won’t be perfectly pleasant, but they won’t be like us.’

  ‘I’m not quite sure what you mean. One thing I do know, my dear, is that they won’t step out of line with us. Are you worried they might want to kiss you?’

  Sarah shuddered at the thought that any man would want to kiss her. ‘No, of course not. It’s just the thought of having a stranger’s hands on me that puts me off. As you know, I don’t really like being touched by anyone.’

  ‘Then you can dance with the handsome Flight Lieutenant Trent. He’s hardly a stranger, is he?’

  ‘I’ve only spoken to him a few times so, Mummy, as far as I’m concerned, yes he is.’ She smiled reluctantly. ‘However, you’re right, if I do have to dance then he would be better than anyone else. Our guests are all desperate to go whatever the weather so I suppose they’ll think we’re being unfriendly if we don’t go with them. I warn you that I expect we’ll have to travel in the back of that lorry.’

  ‘You know how to drive – we can go in the Bentley. Why don’t you go out now and see if it starts?’

  Sarah was tempted to refuse, or to go out and then pretend that she’d tried to start it but failed so that she wouldn’t have to go to the base. With a sigh, she stood up.

  ‘I’ll have a go. I rather like tinkering with engines. Daddy taught me a lot and it was the one time he treated me like a real person and not a porcelain doll.’

  She pulled on the heavy canvas overalls she wore for working outside with the horses or the poultry, added a thick knitted balaclava over her head and crunched her way across the snow to the closed barn where the Bentley had sat unused for the past few months.

  She’d gone in and turned the engine over and driven it around the barn several times since last September. This was something her mother knew nothing about. However, the weather had been so dire since December she’d not bothered.

  It took half an hour to clear the snow from in front of the doors and she was certainly warm by the time she’d finished. Although petrol was already in short supply, her father had prepared for this and there were more than a dozen cans filled with fuel so that wouldn’t be a problem.

  The Bentley guzzled petrol and was really very uneconomical to run as a family car. She pulled off the three thick dust sheets covering it and was pleasantly surprised to find there was no ice on the windscreen. In fact, the car looked as good as it had when she’d covered it up two months ago.

  There was no need to do more than add a little choke when she turned the key. The car roared into life, the sound deafening in the empty space, and she drove it around a couple of times just to make sure it was in full working order.

  If they were going to use it tomorrow then she’d ask Bates and his son to clear a path from the barn to the drive as even the magnificent Bentley couldn’t manage two feet of snow. Neither man had much to do at the moment so she didn’t feel at all guilty about asking them. Most of the day they were just sitting in the tack room, keeping themselves warm around the paraffin heater.

  ‘You thinking of using the Bentley then, miss?’ Bates asked.

  ‘Yes, Bates. Lady Harcourt and I will be attending a dance at Manston tomorrow. Please make sure there’s sufficient petrol in the tank.’

  ‘Fair enough. ’Bout time her ladyship went out and enjoyed herself. I can’t remember the last time the master took her anywhere.’

  This was a highly unsuitable conversation to be having with him so Sarah ignored his remark and just thanked him. She wondered if he was aware that he was going to be dismissed shortly? He must know there wasn’t enough work to justify having him and his son here. This wasn’t her concern, Mummy would have to deal with it, although she did feel sorry for the two of them and hoped they could manage without the meagre income they got from the family.

  The blackout meant everything took place earlier than it would normally have done, therefore the dance was being held in the afternoon, not the evening. There was a feeling of anticipation in the house and Sarah could hear the excited voices and laughter coming from the west wing.

  The weather hadn’t improved, but the fact that she would be driving the Bentley, which had an excellent heater, meant she no longer had an excuse to refuse to dress up. Obviously, they would all wear boots and their warmest coats and change into indoor shoes when they arrived. Only as she was selecting which of her numerous frocks she should wear did she remember that everybody else would be in uniform.

  In her dressing gown, she rushed to her mother’s room and knocked on the door. ‘Mummy, we’ll be the only ones in ordinary clothes this afternoon…’

  ‘No, darling, don’t forget there’ll be dozens of people from the village attending. They won’t be in uniform but their glad rags.’

  ‘Gosh, how silly of me. What are you going to wear? Have you decided yet?’

  Her mother pointed to a beautiful black evening gown, cut on the bias, so no other ornamentation was necessary. ‘You can’t wear that, Mummy. It’s an afternoon dance, not an evening one. Let me find you something more suitable.’

  Her mother laughed, not at all offended at being taken to task by her daughter. ‘Now it’s me that’s being silly. I think there’s something in my closet that I wore to an afternoon tea dance at the Ritz many years ago.’

  It didn’t matter that the gold silk gown was unfashionable, it was perfect. Sarah hurried back to her own room in search of something similar. Daddy had insisted she got the village seamstress to make half a dozen grown-up frocks when she’d left school last year, using the best materials and London designs.

  Whatever she wore, she would be overshadowed by her mother, but she didn’t mind that. Eventually she selected a dress that came to mid-calf, had a wide skirt, a matching belt and a pretty heart-shaped neckline. The fact that there was also an angora cardigan exactly the same shade of blue made it perfect for a winter event.

  Angus had flown a Blenheim Mk IV IF, a fighter bomber, but wasn’t impressed by its speed, manoeuvrability or the fact that the flyer was so cramped that he couldn’t see all the flight instruments. The engine instruments made the forward view on landings impossible. The secondary items were along the left side of the cockpit, but essential things such as the propeller pitch control were behind the pilot where they had to be found by feel alone. Not ideal, and he hoped he never had to fly one in action.

  There was a three-man crew – the pilot, navigator bombardier and a wireless operator who also acted as the gunner. This squadron consisted of all Australian pilots and they seemed happy enough, although never stopped binding about the weather. He didn’t need telling every time he met one of them that it would be midsummer back home in Oz.

  Nothing was airborne at the moment and all the kites were undercover in one or other of the ten hangars. There were two other flight lieutenants, each in charge of a small squadron of Hurricanes, as well as a pilot officer and a flying officer. The squadrons were small so didn’t require more than a couple of officers to run them. As he was adjutant he outranked all of them and thought he should wander over and speak to the mechanics who would be busy, regardless of the weather, making sure all the kites were airworthy.

  This phoney war couldn’t go on much longer and the kites and flyers must be ready to go at a moment’s notice. The massive bitumen runway at Manston was over three thousand yards long, plus the 500-yard overshoots at each end – the fact that it was also 250 yards wide meant it was perfect to be used for any incoming damaged bombers and fighters. There was ample room for three lanes. Two for the kites based here to land and take off and the third left for emergency landings. He prayed there wouldn’t be too many of those once the war in the air kicked off.

  He was heading for the warmth of the office, satisfied everything was as it should be, when he thought he ought to inspect the preparations for the dance this afternoon. An RAF flight sergeant had volunteered to drive the lorry and collect the girls later so that was one duty he didn’t have today.

  Nobody bothered to salute him – he supposed they were rather lax on discipline here and things would have to tighten up once they were fully operational and there were several squadrons based here. He stepped into the warmth of the mess – it was shared by other ranks and NCOs – and was pleasantly surprised by what he saw.

  ‘Angus, old boy, what do you think?’ He was greeted by Flight Lieutenant James Miller, who appeared to have taken charge of the event.

  ‘Absolutely splendid, Jimmy. Nothing like streamers and balloons to cheer a place up. Do you have a record player for music?’

  ‘Good God, not bloody likely. You’re sadly out of touch, old boy. You should come over here more often. We’ve got a professional fiddle, and a piano player, in my squadron. Live music all the way. Mind you, it’s a good idea to have the backup of a few records. Thanks for reminding me.’

  ‘Good show. Catering organised okay?’

  ‘All tickety-boo. What are the WAAF like? You’re the only one that’s seen them so far.’

  ‘To tell you the truth, I didn’t really take much notice. There’s an upper-crust girl, blonde and elegant, and a petite brunette from the East End, but as for the others I couldn’t tell you anything about them.’

  ‘It’s too bad they’re not going to be stationed here at the moment. Having girls around would liven up the evenings.’

  ‘Good God, have you taken leave of your senses? They wouldn’t be allowed in here – I’ve been checking up on places that have fully functioning WAAF on base and they have their own facilities, canteens and so on. No fraternising apart from at functions like this.’

  ‘Bloody shame, if you ask me. Small wonder you’ve not allowed them here as there’s absolutely nowhere ready for them. In fact, I can’t see there being anything set up in the foreseeable.’

  ‘I’d come to that conclusion myself. I’ve already been in touch with Victory House and the six of them will be transferred to Marham in Norfolk. There was a cock-up somewhere and they were sent to Manston by mistake. They have to remain where they are until the weather improves. I’ve not told Lady Harcourt or the girls, so keep mum until I’ve spoken to them tomorrow.’

  ‘Righto, will do. The only good thing about this bloody awful weather is that the Luftwaffe are grounded too.’

  Angus admired the bar that had been set up in the mess hall and carefully didn’t ask how so much beer and other things had been acquired. ‘How many are you expecting to come from the village?’

  ‘We spread the word at the Rose and Crown and the Brewery Tavern and wouldn’t be surprised if we were jammed to the rafters. The bloke collecting the WAAF is going to stop at both pubs to pick up anyone who wants a lift. They might have to do a couple of trips – I take it you’ve no objection?’

  ‘You’d take no notice if I had. No, there are hundreds of men on this base with nothing much to do and a bit of a knees-up will do us all good. I feel sorry for the poor bastards stuck in northern France. There are squadrons of Blenheims, Hurries and the vile Fairey Battles, based on temporary airstrips out there.’

  ‘The Aussies are expecting to be posted there when the weather improves. Do you think we’ll get the promised squadrons of Spits?’

  ‘God knows, for I certainly don’t. The building of the new accommodation for officers and the officers’ mess can’t be finished until the weather improves. As soon as that’s done, Win Co said, we’ll be fully operational. We’ve already got sufficient hangars for several squadrons and the accommodation for the ground crew to maintain them.’

  ‘Do you hope to get a flight of your own here or do you think you’ll be posted elsewhere?’

  ‘I haven’t the foggiest. I’m used to being moved about the place as I’ve been a regular for the best part of five years. As long as I get command of a flight, if not a squadron, and preferably one of Spits, then I’ll be happy.’

  Billings was ten years his senior but looked younger than thirty-three. He was a good-looking man, clean-shaven, just above average height, and Angus was surprised his superior officer had never been married.

  Jimmy had command of Squadron 79, Hurries. The Aussies were under the command of Flight Lieutenant Drummond. He and Billings had their own rooms but the other two had to share as accommodation was limited at the moment. The rooms they were presently occupying would be given over to admin and other equally important things once the accommodation building for them was completed.

  Angus hated being inactive but there was little for him to do when there were no flights in or out of the base. There were two airmen running the office and they were adequate at their job but both of them would much rather be doing something more interesting than answering the telephone, typing letters and dealing with men who wanted a twenty-four-hour pass, a sick note or something else equally mundane.

  As he was acting adjutant, he dealt with all disciplinary matters as well as everything else. His CO must be even more bored than he was with the inactivity. Angus couldn’t wait to be get a clean bill of health and get his active posting. Dislocating his shoulder had been a damned nuisance but at least he was doing something vaguely useful being here.

  There was more than enough room for three of the girls in the back of the Bentley and it seemed unfair not to offer to take the extra passengers.

  ‘Why don’t you draw lots to see who gets to go in the Bentley and who has to sit in the back of that lorry?’

  ‘No need, Miss Harcourt, three of us will travel to the dance in your car and the other three will return in it,’ Eleanor, the elegant blonde, said.

  ‘I’ve put out some spare rugs and a few cushions for you to take. I have to ask – don’t you have anything warmer to wear than that thing that looks like a groundsheet?’

  Ada replied. ‘No, we ain’t got greatcoats like the officer what came to collect us had. Blooming cheek, if you ask me, expecting us to keep from freezing without a proper coat.’

  ‘I heard that when the war started the new recruits didn’t even have a uniform – the powers that be just weren’t ready for so many of us to volunteer,’ one of the other girls said. ‘Anyway, we’re well protected underneath.’ She laughed and raised the hem of her skirt to reveal knee-length bloomers. ‘These are known as blackouts – more like passion killers if you ask me.’

  Sarah laughed with them but couldn’t help being shocked at the freedom with which they exposed their underwear, even if it was only to each other. ‘They look very warm, but certainly not glamorous.’

  Ada sensed her unease. ‘You wouldn’t believe what we’ve had to do to become WAAFs, miss. We had to parade in front of them medics in just our knickers. We had to change when we got our uniforms – strip to our birthday suits – so no time to be bashful.’

  Mummy had joined them, looking stunning in her afternoon tea dress, and smiled at the conversation.

  ‘Good heavens,’ Sarah said, ‘sounds just like my boarding school. Communal bathing and no doors on the WCs. One gets used to the lack of privacy. It sounds as if being a member of the WAAF is very similar.’

  ‘I’ll bet you didn’t get someone peering down your knickers to see if you’d got lice,’ Ada said to gales of laughter from the others.

  The jolly gathering was broken up as the lorry trundled in. The three going in that vehicle this time grabbed the cushions and blankets and dashed out to the front door.

  ‘I’ll lock up, Sarah, you take the young ladies out to the car,’ Mummy said as she bolted the door.

  They both had on thick winter boots as well as their warmest coats. It might be reasonable inside the Bentley but there was always a slight chance it would break down so it was better to be prepared. Sarah had already put a shovel, two blankets and a thermos of tea in the boot and she had a powerful torch in her bag.

  ‘The car’s in the barn over there,’ she said as she pointed across the yard. ‘It’ll be a lot easier for you to get in whilst we’re still inside.’

  They scrambled onto the leather seat in the rear of the luxurious car, exclaiming in delight at what they saw. There was ample room in the front passenger footwell for both gas masks and shoe bags to be stored.

  It was still light, even a little weak winter sunshine, which would make the drive easier in this direction. She was determined to note every bump, rut and danger on the way there so she could avoid them when she was driving in the dark on the way back.

  The base was unfamiliar to Sarah as neither she nor her mother had accepted any of the invitations to visit. There was a huddle of brick buildings to the left of the entrance and she headed in that direction. Her eyes widened when she saw the size of the runway, which seemed to stretch for miles in both directions. She was disappointed there were no aircraft on show as she’d never seen one up close.