“Good to meet you,” Violet said. She was shorter than Dash, with curly black hair cropped close as a boy’s and dimples in both cheeks. “You have a brilliant name. Have you any flying hours?”
“About two hundred,” Dash said, including every time she’d gone up with Uncle Bob.
“That will do nicely,” Stella said, towering over them. She was slim and handsome, with hooded eyes that seemed to be enjoying an inside joke. “Thank you, Mrs. Farnham. We shall take it from here.”
“Lovely to meet you, Dash. Ta-ta for now.” Mrs. Farnham pointed to the wall behind Stella, where a white sign hung, painted with stark black lettering. “Don’t forget the rules.”
AIR TRANSPORT AUXILIARY RULES
Bad weather flying is strictly prohibited.
Competition between pilots is strictly prohibited. The idea that if A gets through and B does not, this is a reflection on B, is quite erroneous.
No flight shall be commenced unless at the place of departure the cloud base is at least 800 feet, and the horizontal visibility at least 2,000 yards.
Dash noticed Stella studying her, so she reached into her pocket and produced a flimsy little box. “Care for a cigarette?”
Stella’s smile was appreciative as she took one and slipped it between her lips. “Do sit, Miss Dash. I believe you will do very well here.”
As Stella lit the cigarette, Dash sat and scanned the room. Some of the women were wearing the heavy, fur-lined flying suits provided by the ATA. Dash could hardly wait to have one of her own. A few, like Stella, had kicked off their furry black boots. On the tables were scattered helmets and goggles.
Stella exhaled a stream of smoke. “Well, Miss Dash, one of the first things you need to know is that boys don’t want us around here.”
“That’s not true, Stella,” Violet scolded. “Don’t frighten the new girl. Only some of them don’t, Dash, and I think they’re mostly just sour because we get paid the same as they do. Most of them are thrilled to see girls in jumpsuits.” Violet placed the back of her hand against her brow and fell dramatically back into her chair. “?‘A woman pilot! My heart!’?”
“I don’t know about that,” Stella scoffed. “I’ve heard a lot more of the old ‘women belong in the home, not in the sky’ refrain.”
That sounded uncomfortably familiar to Dash, like Mrs. Pidgett and the men at Eisen’s Garage.
“There are an awful lot of men piloting,” Violet explained. “I think they outnumber us ten to one.”
“Ah,” Dash said with a smile. She’d done a good bit of reading on the voyage across the ocean. “You’re talking about the ATA-boys. The ‘Ancient and Tattered Airmen.’?”
The original Air Transport Auxiliary members, she’d learned, were mostly retired pilots from the first war. Some had come with their own challenges—missing limbs and eyes—and that had resulted in their somewhat derogatory label. No one had planned for the war to still be going in 1941, and by then the people in charge of the ATA realized they wouldn’t be able to keep up the pace without a lot more pilots. At last, they’d made the leap and brought women into their ranks. Thereluctantleap.
“To be fair, when they added women, they renamed it the ‘AlwaysTerrified Airwomen,’?” Stella said, inhaling. “You know what else they say about ATA-girls? That we’re either loose women looking for attention, or that our lessons were paid for by men.”
“And we’re all filthy rich,” Violet added.
She knew it wasn’t true, but Dash could see why people thought that way. After all, a single one-hour lesson cost about the same as what Dash had earned at CanCar in two weeks. She’d never be able to pay Uncle Bob back for all he’d given her. She glanced around. “So where are the men?”
“Hamble is our base, not theirs,” Violet said.
“This is a women’s-only airfield?” Dash asked, heartened.
“Other than mechanics and such. Hamble and Cosford are the only two bases with change rooms.”
Stella stubbed out her cigarette in an overflowing ashtray. “They’re slowly coming around to the fact that they need us, but they still don’t like it. Show her the magazine, Vi.”
“I don’t happen to have a copy handy,” Violet replied, rolling her eyes. “So, Dash. Where are you—”
“There’s always a copy under the table. I’ll get it,” Stella said.
Dash watched her tread, catlike, across the room. “Magazine?”
Violet sighed. “She’s determined to show you this, so we might as well let her get it out of her system. Every time Stella feels slighted, she likes to bring it up. Keep in mind that it’s from last year, so it’s a little dated. We’ve changed a lot of minds since then.”
“Here we are.”
