‘How could you not?’ said another.
‘Seemed like he had eyes for you,’ said Marjorie to Fitz.
‘You can’t take any of them seriously,’ replied Fitz, attempting to sound flippant.
‘Well, if you don’t want him,’ said one of the women who Fitz thought was called Betty. ‘You can send him my way.’
‘You’d be very welcome to him,’ replied Fitz, though not entirely sure she was being truthful.
The conversation was interrupted as a bus pulled up alongside the group. The doors swished open and the driver called out to them. ‘You for the flying school? Get on.’
Once at Central Flying School, things moved apace. Fitz and her newly found companions were officially enrolled, issued with their uniform and assigned their living quarters. It was ten of them on this intake and they all shared a dormitory, which was essentially a wooden hut.
‘A bit different to what you’re used to, I expect,’ said Elsie, as they plonked their armfuls of uniform and luggage down on their beds.
‘Probably a bit different to what we’re all used to,’ said Fitz. From their conversations travelling from the station, it was fair to say, all of the women had come from a more privileged background, having already had experience in flying. None of them were new to the skies and you only got that experience if you were lucky enough to have the money to do so. However, Fitz knew she was perhaps at the higher end of that financial privilege.
‘I suppose so,’ conceded Elsie.
‘So, what made you sign up?’ It was Marjorie, who had claimed the bed across the room from Fitz.
‘I love flying and this is the only way I get to be in the sky,’ said Fitz. ‘Plus it’s helping the war effort. What about you two?’
Marjorie shrugged. ‘Pretty much the same thing. I wanted to do something useful, and this seemed the perfect solution. Besides, I have two older brothers and they are both in the air force. I didn’t want to be the odd one out. I’ve never let them outdo me before, so I don’t intend to start now.’
Fitz smiled. She liked Marjorie. Very no-nonsense.
‘I couldn’t bear the thought of milking any more cows,’ groaned Elsie, opening her suitcase. ‘If I never see another glass of milk again in my life, it won’t be a moment too soon. Plus they are smelly bloody things. Eh.’
Fitz laughed along with Marjorie.
‘Mind if I camp here?’ came a voice. The young woman Fitz thought was called Betty stood by the bed next to Marjorie.
‘Be my guest,’ replied Marjorie. ‘It’s Betty, isn’t it?’
‘Thanks. Yes, that’s right. Betty Anderson.’ The redhead smiled at the trio. ‘Nice to meet you all.’
As they unpacked their suitcases, the four women chatted amongst themselves, exchanging information on where they lived and what they had been up to prior to the war and since it had broken out. They, of course, all had the same thing in common – their love for flying and their sense of duty. Becoming a ferry pilot, ferrying the aircraft from one place to another, was the perfect role for them.
That night when Fitz went to bed, she had a sense of belonging. Something she wasn’t sure she’d ever experienced before. She’d never felt she had fitted in well anywhere, and often felt the odd one out amongst her contemporaries. When her mother had died, the sense of being the odd one out was exascerbated. All her friends still had both parents alive. Even from an early age, Fitz could see the pity in the grown-ups’ eyes that she had only her father to look after her. It wasn’t a feeling Fitz had enjoyed and in fact she had rebelled against it. She’d done everythingshe could to find happiness and to prove to them she didn’t need their pity. She had dated several young men in the past few years, much to Edward and Camilla’s disapproval, and had ignored their requests that she modify her behaviour and not skip from one boy to another. Fitz always found the start of a relationship fun and exciting but the thrill soon fizzled out, especially when the men seemed to be one step ahead of her and within a couple of months were talking marriage. Settling down was high on Camilla’s agenda for Fitz, but Fitz didn’t want that because with marriage would come responsibilities and babies, neither of which she was ready for. She wanted to enjoy life and be free of societal expectations. In the air, she’d always found that freedom, and she wasn’t giving that up for anyone.
Flying had become her happy place.
And now she was amongst women who loved the skies as much as she did. She’d found her family.
Chapter 5
Training was just as much fun as Fitz imagined it would be. If not more. The first plane Fitz and the other ATA women were taught to fly was the de Havilland Tiger Moth and as this was Fitz’s choice of plane prior to signing up with the ATA, she was perfectly at home in the cockpit.
‘You made a decent fist of that flight,’ said one of the instructors after her first time in the air. ‘Need to clock up a few more hours, though.’ He scribbled something on his clipboard that Fitz couldn’t read. ‘You also need to take that lipstick off. Can’t have you flying into RAF stations all done up like a dog’s dinner.’
‘A dog’s dinner!’ Fitz could barely contain her outrage at the remark as she unfastened the chin strap of her leather flying helmet. She was well aware of the prejudices against female aviators from her time at the airfield, but she hadn’t been expecting this level of chauvinism from a senior ranking airman.
The instructor looked up and pointed his pen at her. ‘Before you say anything you’ll regret, I suggest you read the handbook you were given. You may be a civilian ferry pilot but you are to abide by the rules and regulations just as a serving member of the air force does. And that includes no make-up.’
Fitz wasn’t sure if that was strictly true but she didn’t want to risk being sent home, that would be worse than not wearing her favourite red lipstick.
‘Yes, sir,’ she said dutifully, marvelling at her own restraint and how her father would be amazed at her deference.
