Over A Spitfire

By Sherrie Lowe

Ava Greatbach is a ferry pilot in the Air Transport Auxiliary during World War Two. She has two admirers at the Ferry Pool where she's based, one male, one female. One is a flirt, the other she is more seriously drawn to.

Wilhelmina Schmidt causes every head to turn as she strides into the room and gives her name at the desk.

She and Ava become close but it isn't to last as Will is killed in an accident.

However she is a strong spirit and is determined to return to Ava, her one true love, but is there such a thing as reincarnation and will she have any control over whether she can return to earth?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sherrie Lowe
• Release date: Oct 17, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386094586

Sherrie Lowe

I have been writing seriously since 1995/6 when I became ill with ME/CFS and had to resign from my job as learning support assistant in a mainstream high school. I had always had an idea I wanted to write a memoir since losing my mother to breast cancer two days before my 13th birthday, such a traumatic experience which has never left me but it felt cathartic to write about it.  Just before I became ill I was divorced and had two sons aged 14 and 11 so it was quite a difficult time bringing children up alone whilst being ill but we managed the three of us and now I am a nana too and it is wonderful. Writing has kept me sane through the isolation brought on by illness, so much time is spent alone. My normal life is non existent so it is good to remember what it was like through the lives of my characters.

Book preview

Over A Spitfire

Prologue

Midlands

October 1965

The young man on the couch in a trance like state speaks in a soporific voice in response to the hypnotist’s question for this regression.

I can see planes.

What sort of planes?

The young man hesitates and his eyelids flicker. Spitfires, Hurricanes, Lancaster bombers.

The hypnotist regards him intently. Do you know what year it is?

I think it’s 1941.

What is your name?

Will.

Where are you?

I am at an airfield walking towards the planes.

Are you alone?

Again the young man is hesitant and the hypnotist is patient, allowing the thoughts to develop. There are others. I walk away from them.

Where are you going when you leave them?

I am walking towards the Spitfire.

How do you feel?

I am happy, I love this plane. I fly them: I fly Spitfires, Hurricanes, Lancasters, but the Spitfire and the Lancaster are my favourites.

Are you flying now?

I am climbing into the cockpit. I am checking the instrument panel and starting the plane. ‘Thrum’ goes its engine and a thrill runs through me as it always does.

Are you in the RAF?

The young man is silent, his brow wrinkling, then, No, I don’t fight in battle. His voice becomes a little unsure. I don’t know why I fly but I know it’s important. I fly lots of planes, often, and I feel different. I um... it’s some kind of delivery service.

Are you flying the Spitfire now?

Yes I’m taxiing ready for take off. I can feel the bumps as the wheels go over the terrain. Up, up, now I am airborne among the clouds. It is a clear day with just a few fluffy white clouds like puffballs in the sky, I almost feel I want to reach out my hand and touch them. I’m looking down and a river runs like a silver ribbon beneath me. I am delivering the plane. His face takes on a look of fear as the hypnotist observes him almost impassively. Cloud has built up. There’s a plane. It’s coming right at me. Out of the clouds His voice becomes distressed. What shall I do? His voice rises in panic. I swerve, tilt my aircraft but it’s too late. It’s hit me. I hear the smashing of metal on metal. The engine is screaming. I’m losing height. I’m trying to pull the nose up. Why won’t it come up? Come up! Come up! I’m falling. Falling, falling, spinning...

Part  1

Chapter 1

Air Transport Auxiliary Ferry Pool

Midlands

August 1941

There was the usual flurry of morning activity as the ATA pilots collected their chits for the day. Ava Greatbach rushed into the crowded office wafting her hands about and blowing on her nails to dry the crimson polish which matched her exquisitely applied lipstick.

Where does the time go in a morning, she gasped breathlessly to Joyce Simpson in front of her.

I know, replied Joyce. I can never get my hair to wave properly, even with all the cursing and swearing I do at it.

Ava giggled. Oh Joyce you are a one!

It’s all right for you, pouted Joyce, whose brown hair had a tendency to frizz your hair waves beautifully.

It still needs a little help. Ava shook her thick blonde curls which sat with a lovely bounce on her shoulders.

You both look beautiful, as always, came a male voice behind them as Henry Bailey draped his arms around both of their shoulders. All I can say is I’m glad you two don’t think like some of these chaps, that women belong in the kitchen.

Ava drew herself up tall. "I most certainly don’t think that! I shall never be happy stuck in the kitchen!"

That’s my girl, full of fighting spirit. Henry patted Ava’s seductively round bottom encased in the skirt of her uniform, his hand lingering a moment longer than necessary.

Go on with you Henry Bailey, you’re too saucy by far. She sauntered off from him and collected her chits.

Scanning through them she let out a cry of delight. Ooh Joyce look what I’ve got! I’ve got a Spitfire!

She waved the chit under Joyce’s nose and Joyce looked through her own, her face brightening into a smile. Me too! Look!

Just then a new girl entered the room and strode purposefully up to the desk. Wilhelmina Schmidt, she announced. Call me Will.

Ava couldn’t help but notice the girl, as did everyone else in the room. It was nothing to do with the German name and everything to do with her confidence. She wore trousers with her uniform. It was as if all eyes were drawn to Wilhelmina Schmidt. She wasn’t the prettiest of girls but neither was she plain; her oval face with its defined bone structure had character and her whole being oozed charisma. Her presence filled the room. As she turned away from the desk holding her chits she glanced down at them, raised her eyebrows and a faint smile played on her lips. She wasn’t wearing much make up Ava noticed, just a dab of face powder, and she guessed that her light brown hair didn’t need any encouragement to wave, it had a natural life of its own falling just below her ears.

Just then she looked up and her eyes locked with Ava’s, who felt a flush stain her cheeks as she realised she’d been staring. She smiled at Will. Are you pleased with what you’ve got? she asked.

Absolutely! I’ve got a Spitfire.

Oh that’s three of us. Joyce and I have too, haven’t we Joyce. I can’t wait to fly it. It’s the first time we girls have been allowed to.

You take care of those machines, said Henry who still hovered nearby and Ava detected a shadow of irritation float cloud like across Will’s face. In that instant she felt that Will had taken a dislike to the man.

Ava herself tended to humour him. Always flirtatious he regularly sought her out and she could tell he was sweet on her but she didn’t want to encourage him. He was attractive with his black, Brylcreemed hair, matching moustache and even white smile, indeed he had a look of Clark Gable and what girl wouldn’t want to marry him, but she had no intention of settling down with a husband and family. Who would want to spend their time changing napkins, washing clothes, scrubbing the step (not that her mother had ever had to scrub the step of their large Victorian house; she had a cleaner to do that) when they could be up in the air, flying free? Certainly not her!

Will fell into step beside her and Joyce as they left the building and made their way across the airfield to the Anson taxi plane that would take them to the factory to collect their Spitfires. When they arrived they were all so excited they only just refrained from breaking into a run.

It was the perfect day for flying; pellucid blue skies punctuated only by a wisp of high trailing cloud as the girls climbed into their respective cockpits. They each felt their Merlin engine give a ‘thrum’ as it started and one by one the aircraft taxied down the runway. In turn they became airborne and each delighted in the thrill it gave them to be flying such a superb machine. Ava marvelled at how easy it was to handle. She only had to give the stick the slightest touch and it responded. It might have been made just for her.

Will in her plane was experiencing the same euphoria. Never before had she flown something so light and easy to manoeuvre. She wanted to fly vertical eights: dive, come up, dive and turn to make a figure eight but she suppressed the desire. She’d do it one day but not today, a little more experience of the plane was needed before she could perform aerobatics.

She flew alongside Ava for a while, the girl who had befriended her when she’d collected her chits. She looked into the other girl’s cockpit and they exchanged smiles. For a while they flew side by side as if enjoying the companionship. Will looked down at the river below her, a shimmering thread of silver shot silk as it reflected the sunlight. She and the other Air Transport Auxiliaries had no radio communication and no means of navigation other than landmarks far below them, and they also followed railway lines, but it didn’t worry her. It was challenging, exhilarating. She’d flown from other Ferry Pools but this was her first day in this particular one. Again it didn’t worry her. Will wasn’t the nervous type, she enjoyed new experiences. Eventually they veered off in different directions, each to their own delivery destinations.

The following morning the three girls met up again.

What have you got? Ava asked the other two.

Not so exciting today, Joyce responded. Hurricanes and Lancasters.

I like Lancasters, added Will, makes me feel equal to the men to fly such big planes.

Yes you’re right, Ava agreed. They like to think we women aren’t up to it.

They checked the day’s weather, got their routes from the operations officer and headed out to the Anson waiting to take them to their collection factories.

There’s a sing song in The Black Swan tonight Will if you want to join us, Ava invited.

Thanks, yes I’ll come. What time?

Half seven.

Chapter 2

Ava always took care with her make up and as she got ready to go to The Black Swan she examined her image in the mirror. Her hair in rollers and pin curls to keep its wave and bounce she carefully applied her eyeliner. Replacing it in her make up bag she took out her mascara. She twisted her mouth in contemplation as she noticed how the block was wearing down. She’d have to use it sparingly to eke it out. Cosmetics weren’t easy to come by and were expensive when you did manage to get them. Her complexion had always been good; she’d not been plagued by blemishes as some of her friends had during their teenage years and she only needed a little face powder with the lightest touch of rouge to highlight her cheekbones. A stroke of carefully applied lipstick and she was satisfied with her reflection.

Removing her dressing gown she slipped her floral cotton dress on and pulled its matching belt in tight at the waist. Taking the rollers and pins out of her hair she brushed it into its bouncy style. A dab of April Violets by Yardley finished her preparations. Collecting her handbag, keys and most importantly her gas mask in its box from her bed where she’d tossed them, she left the room, pulled the door to and skipped downstairs.

I’m off now, she told her parents, bobbing her head into the lounge where they sat listening to the wireless, her mother darning socks, her father contentedly puffing on his pipe.

All right, he answered, but make sure you don’t miss the last bus home.

She kissed his forehead, then her mother’s. I won’t. See you later.

They’d had an adequate evening meal. Although her family were comfortably off with her father’s business rationing affected them just like it did everyone else. They were fortunate in that her mother had a friend who was a farmer’s wife and she was often able to get a few vegetables and eggs from her. Her mother was a marvel at making them stretch seemingly endlessly, making large pots of stew which would feed the family for a few evenings, accompanied by her home baked bread – that was when she could get enough flour. There were just the three of them at home. Ava’s elder sister Elizabeth was married with a baby daughter.

A fine drizzle was falling and Ava had had to put a light coat over her summer dress as she quickened her step to the bus stop, hoping that the rain wouldn’t ruin her hairstyle. There were several people waiting and it was only a few minutes before the bus rumbled into view. Ava stepped back, letting an elderly man on before her and she watched as he struggled with arthritic joints onto the platform of the bus. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be old. At just twenty it seemed a lifetime away. Although the country was in the midst of war she was enjoying her life. It was pure joy to be flying those wonderful planes everyday. The Spitfires were the ones that the ATA pilots coveted. Many of them had trained in the less powerful Tiger Moth so to be allowed to fly such aerodynamic machines was a real privilege. For her the fighting was a long way off. They didn’t live in a major city that was targeted by German bombers so all she knew was the thrill of flying.

It wasn’t without its dangers, she was well aware of that, just as she was aware of what an important service the Air Transport Auxiliaries performed. They played a vital role in the war, getting the aircraft to where they were needed by the RAF pilots. The weather was their relentless enemy. The low cloud which had resulted in the drizzle had brought an early end to their day today. They were governed by it. If it were a lovely clear day they would fly for many hours collecting and delivering aeroplanes but when the weather was poor it brought them to a standstill. The main losses of pilots were due to the rain or sometimes they came under fire from German fighters that came into their path. 

She followed the old man onto the bus and found an empty window seat. It was only a short journey to the pub that was the local for the people of the Ferry Pool and in a few minutes she was getting off. Thankfully the drizzle had stopped and a timorous ray of sunshine braved the clouds so she had no more worries about her hair frizzing in the damp atmosphere as she walked briskly to The Black Swan. She pushed the door open and entered the smoke filled bar. Joyce was already there with Henry and another chap, Fred. She waved wildly and Ava went over to join them. Subconsciously her eyes scoured the room for Will. Maybe she wouldn’t come. Ava felt a pang of disappointment at that thought. Strangely she felt an affinity with the other girl and she was intrigued about the German name. How had a German girl got to fly for a British service? She had to find out.

What are you drinking? Henry asked her.

I’ll have a gin and tonic please if you’re buying.

Henry ordered her drink and just then the door opened and in walked Will. For Ava it was like a shaft of sunlight had penetrated a stained glass window and the room was flooded with brilliant coloured light.

Over here Will, she called waving her hand, and the shadows of unfamiliarity of her surroundings cleared from Will’s face to the warmth of her new friend. She made her way through the crowd of people with their buzz of conversation, their raucous laughter and their ubiquitous cigarettes.

Let me get you a drink Will, offered Fred. What will you have?

Thanks, replied Will. I’ll have a half of bitter please.

Have you had far to come? Ava asked her. She noticed that as with her work uniform Will again wore trousers.

Will shook her head. Only a ten minute walk. I don’t live far from the Ferry Pool.

How come we haven’t seen you before this week? Are you new to this work?

No I’ve just moved here. I rent a room not far away.

Where were you before?

Shropshire.

How come you moved here?

Will shrugged. Time to move out, a bit of family friction.

Ava was dying to ask more; she wanted to know why there was no trace of a German accent. Will’s accent had a northern tone – more North Eastern – with a light, lilt to her voice. She also wanted to know if her German name made life difficult for her in this time of war but Eric struck up the piano and everyone gravitated towards it and began singing It’s A Long Way To Tipperary. Besides she felt they were personal questions, as was the question about the family friction Will had mentioned and she realised that they would have to wait until a later date. One thing was for sure though, Will was intriguing, an enigma.

Eric went through his repertoire: Down At The Old Bull And Bush, Nelly Dean, The Lambeth Walk, and the atmosphere in the pub became louder and more jovial as the clock behind the bar ticked the hours away. The bar man called last orders and Eric played Show Me The Way To Go Home, then everyone bid each other goodnight and went out for their last buses.

As Ava slipped on her coat Henry rushed to hold it for her. I’ll walk you to your bus stop, he offered but she tactfully deflected him.

That’s sweet of you Henry but I’ll be fine thanks, I wouldn’t want you to miss your own bus. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Henry’s almost permanent smile dimmed a little and Ava quickly made her exit, calling goodnight to Joyce and Fred who’d been at each other’s side all evening. She was happy when Will followed her out, watched by Henry who felt a frisson of envy but rationalised it by telling himself it wasn’t as if she’d left with another bloke.

I’m glad the rain’s stopped, Ava remarked to Will.

Yes. Maybe we’ll get a bit more flying in tomorrow if it stays clear.

Have you been flying long?

A couple of years. I’ve always been interested in planes but never thought I’d be able to learn to fly but then I saw an advert in a magazine for a course of lessons so I applied. What about you?

An ex boyfriend was learning to fly and I found that I wanted to have a go.

Ex boyfriend?

Yes. A while ago now. We’ve lost touch. Last I heard he’d joined the RAF.

Have you got a boyfriend now?

Ava shook her head. No, have you?

No. I’m not really interested. More bothered about flying.

Has there been anyone?

No-one special. I never get beyond a few dates before they start to bore me. I can’t do with them trying to impress me. I prefer them as mates. My friends when I was a child were boys, my mum always said I was a tomboy. Never wanted ribbons in my hair. My pretty dresses were always filthy from sliding down dusty slopes in the woods, always torn from climbing trees with the boys. I never liked playing with dolls and all that namby pamby stuff. I found boy’s toys fascinating. One of my friends had this marvellous train set. I loved it! We’d play for hours with it, that and toy aeroplanes.

Will fell silent, as though she’d rambled on rather and Ava filled the lull in the conversation.

I was always playing with dolls. My friends were girls, we didn’t play much with boys except for games like hide and seek. We all liked the mischief the boys got up to though. They used to get yards of string and tie two or three door knockers together, lift the string and let them all drop together with a crash, then we’d run and hide across the road and laugh when all the women used to come to the door at the same time and there was no-one there.

Do you still live in the same place as you did then?

Same area different house. When Dad’s business took off he bought a large Victorian house. That’s where we live now.

Have you got brothers and sisters?

One sister, Elizabeth, married with a baby daughter, Ann. She met Alec when she was Dad’s secretary. He worked at one of the tailors Dad did business with. Have you got brothers and sisters?

Two half brothers.

Older or younger?

Younger.

They reached Ava’s bus stop just as the bus rumbled up the road, lights barely visible in the blackout.

Oh here’s my bus. Have you enjoyed tonight Will?

I have yes.

Do you dance?

Yes but not very well.

You must come to The King’s Hall on Saturday. It’s always a good night.

The bus stopped and Ava got on. See you in the morning.

Will raised a hand in a wave.

The next day was a better day for flying but the previous day’s cloud had taken its toll.

Have you seen Tom this morning? Joyce asked Ava as the office filled up. Joyce was always early as she came in to work on the milk train.

I haven’t now you come to mention it. Why?

He usually comes in with me but he wasn’t on the train. I wondered if he’d got here some other way. Her voice was hopeful but with a note of trepidation.

Their eyes scanned through the clusters of people and cigarette smoke but their friend’s face wasn’t among them. The same thought was in both of their minds but neither could voice it. Each knew they’d have to go and look at the blackboard on the wall with the list of all pilots’ names on it but they feared what they might see – or might not see. The way they found out if someone had been lost was to observe that their name had been rubbed off the board, nothing else was ever said. It was a cruel way to find out but that was just the way it