The Hidden Women: An inspirational novel of sisterhood and strength. Kerry Barrett

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СКАЧАТЬ climbed up into the plane and checked all the instruments, even though I’d flown hundreds of Spitfires and it was as familiar to me as the back of my own hand.

      I loved flying. I loved feeling the plane doing what I asked it to do, and the freedom of swooping over the countryside. I’d spent two years hanging round the RAF base near where I lived in the Scottish borders before I joined up. I’d learned everything I could about flying, without actually piloting a plane myself. And then, as soon as I was old enough to sign up I’d applied to the ATA. I’d loved it straight away and I knew I was a good pilot. I’d raced through the ranks and completed my training on each category of plane faster than anyone else.

      And yet every time I went on one of my ‘mercy missions’ as Flora called them, I was risking it all.

      Putting all my worries aside, I focused on the plane. I watched the ground crew as they directed me out on to the runway, then thought only of the engine beneath me as I took off northwards.

      Once I was up, I relaxed a bit, and took in the view. The day was so clear, I could see the towns and villages below. I imagined all the people going about their lives – hearing my engine and looking up to see me as I passed. Because it was a brand new plane, there was no radio, no navigation equipment – nothing. I liked the challenge that brought. It meant my brain was always kept active and I had no time to brood.

      Middlesbrough was one of our longest flights and by the time I landed it was afternoon and the heat of the summer day was beginning to fade.

      I slid out of the cockpit and headed to a man with a clipboard, who appeared to be in charge.

      ‘Spitfire,’ I said. ‘Made in South Marston.’

      He nodded, without looking at me. ‘Where’s the pilot?’ he asked. ‘I need him to sign.’

      ‘I’m the pilot,’ I said, through gritted teeth. ‘Do you have a pen?’

      Now the man did look up. He rolled his eyes as though I’d said something ridiculous and handed me a pen from his shirt pocket.

      I scribbled my signature on the form he held out. ‘Is there a flight going back?’

      ‘Over there,’ he said, gesturing with his head to where a larger Anson sat on the runway. ‘But there are a few of you going. Be about an hour?’

      I breathed out in relief. An hour was more than enough. ‘Fine,’ I said. ‘Can I grab a cuppa?’

      He pointed his head in the other direction. I picked up my bag and went the way he’d indicated. But instead of going inside the mess hut, I slipped round the side of the building and out towards the main gate. I hoped the woman would be here – I didn’t want to risk missing my flight back; that would lead to all sorts of trouble.

      ‘Just going for some cigarettes,’ I told the bored man on the gate. He barely acknowledged me as I sauntered past and out on to the road. It was quiet with no passing traffic. Across the carriageway, a woman stood still, partly hidden by a tree. She was wearing a long coat, even though it was summer, and she was in her late thirties. Her hair was greying and she had a slump to her shoulders that made me sad. She looked at me and when I raised my hand in greeting, she smiled a cautious, nervous smile. Confident she was the person I was meant to meet, I ran across the road to her.

      ‘April?’ I said.

      She nodded, looking as though she was going to cry.

      ‘I’m Lil.’

      ‘Lil,’ April said in a strong north-east accent. ‘I need to go. I went early with my others and I’m sure this one’s no different. I can’t be here when the baby arrives. I can’t.’ Her voice shook.

      I took her arm. ‘I’ve got a family in Berkshire,’ I said. ‘Lovely woman. She’s wanted a baby since they got married ten years ago but it’s not happened. Her husband’s a teacher – so he’s not off fighting. They’ve got a spare room for you.’

      April flinched and I looked at her.

      ‘He was a teacher,’ she said. ‘The man. The baby’s father.’

      I stayed quiet. Sometimes mothers wanted to talk and sometimes they didn’t but whatever they wanted, it was easier for me to stay silent.

      ‘He was so nice,’ April went on. ‘Charming. Kind to my boys. Helpful to me. You know?’

      I nodded.

      ‘And then one day he wasn’t so nice,’ she said. ‘And I know I should have told him to stay away, that I was married. I should have made it clearer. But I missed Bill, you see. And I know it’s my fault.’

      She paused.

      ‘It’s my fault.’

      ‘It’s not your fault,’ I said, wondering how many times I’d said that and why it was easy to tell others that and not myself. ‘And it’s not the baby’s fault.’

      I unzipped my bag and pulled out an envelope.

      ‘Your train tickets are in here,’ I said. ‘And the name and address of the family. You need to change at Birmingham and they’ll meet you at Reading station – they know what train you’ll be on.’

      Looking a bit stunned, April took the envelope. ‘Why do you do this?’ she asked. ‘What’s in it for you?’

      I shrugged. ‘It’s the right thing to do,’ I said.

      April looked doubtful but she didn’t argue.

      I glanced at my watch.

      ‘I have to go,’ I said. I took her hand and squeezed it. ‘Good luck.’

       Chapter 4

      Helena

      May 2018

      After dinner I cornered Miranda in the kitchen as we washed up.

      ‘What was all that about?’ I asked her.

      ‘Should we club together and buy the parents a dishwasher,’ she said, squirting washing-up liquid into the sink.

      ‘I can’t afford it,’ I said. ‘And they wouldn’t use it anyway.’

      Miranda frowned. ‘True.’

      I elbowed her in the ribs as I passed her a stack of dirty plates.

      ‘Miranda, focus. Did you see Mum and Dad look at each other when I mentioned Lil?’

      She elbowed me back like we were still ten and twelve, not thirty-four and thirty-six.

      ‘That was a bit weird, wasn’t it?’ she said.

      ‘What was weird, darling?’ Mum wandered into the kitchen clutching two empty wine glasses. ‘Is there another bottle?’

      I СКАЧАТЬ