The Hidden Women

Chapter 9

I thought about how best to approach the subject with Lil all weekend. Several times I picked up the phone to speak to her in her care home down in Surrey, then changed my mind. I’d go and see her in person, I thought. And anyway, I didn’t know for sure yet that she was the Lilian Miles on the ATA list. The only way to find out was to double-check the service record – under the cover of checking Frank Jones of course. If – and it was a big if – I decided to go down that road, I couldn’t do it until I was back at work on Monday and had access to all the databases.

Work, as always, was busy that week. Filming was starting on the next series of the show and it was all hands on deck to check the last few details. I was kept busy all day Monday and most of Tuesday going over the royal connections of a Sixties’ pop star who was a distant relation of Lady Jane Grey, while Elly raced round trying to find a historian who was an expert in prostitution to talk to a celebrity chef whose ancestor ran a high-class brothel in Victorian Manchester.

Late on Tuesday afternoon, the phone on my desk rang.

‘Helena?’ I recognised those clipped tones immediately.

‘Jack,’ I said, ignoring the way my heart thumped. ‘Hello.’

Next to me, Elly raised an eyebrow.

I spun round in my chair so I had my back to her.

‘What’s up?’ I asked Jack.

‘I’ve been doing a bit of research,’ he said. ‘Thought you might like to see it.’

‘Research?’ I said, sounding a bit stupid. ‘What kind of research?’

‘I tracked down my uncle. My father’s brother.’

‘You did? That’s wonderful. Was he pleased to hear from you?’

I could hear Jack smiling at the other end of the phone.

‘He actually was,’ he said. ‘Turns out he’s a big fan of Mackenzie.’

Mackenzie was the detective show Jack starred in.

‘I’m so pleased,’ I said. ‘Are you going to meet up?’

‘We are. He says he’s got some photos to show me.’

‘That’s great,’ I said, honestly. ‘Do you think he’ll chat to you on camera? It’s always good to get social history from people who have actual memories.’

‘I’m sure he’d be game,’ Jack said. I scribbled down a note to mention it to the director of his show.

‘… service records,’ Jack was saying.

‘I’m sorry, I missed that,’ I said. ‘What was that about service records?’

‘I thought we could check them together, to find out more about my grandfather’s time in the ATA,’ he said. Then he lowered his voice, even though no one but me could hear him. ‘We could see if my grandad knew Lilian Miles. Maybe they worked together. Have you spoken to her yet? Did you find out if she’s one of your relatives? Wouldn’t that be utterly amazing?’

‘You are the keenest celebrity I’ve ever worked with,’ I said.

Jack laughed. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t apologise – it’s nice,’ I said. ‘And I understand why you’re so eager. It’s just unusual.’

‘So did you speak to her?’

‘Not yet,’ I said. ‘But I’m planning to.’

I paused, aware of my colleagues – especially Elly of course – all around me.

‘What you said, about the service records,’ I said, choosing my words carefully. ‘Perhaps we could check them.’

‘Of course.’ Jack sounded pleased. ‘I’m guessing it will be better for our cover story if we do it together.’

‘I agree,’ I said cautiously, still nervous about the plan. Was I going to regret this? Especially considering the chaos he’d brought with him when he came to the office last week. Though, I thought, he’d been far less disruptive when he came in the second time. And I found I really wanted to see him again.

Mentally I started checking my plans for the week. I’d finished with the Sixties’ pop star now, so tomorrow and Thursday was more Sarah Sanderson research, and I’d planned to set aside Friday to look into Jack’s research. Maybe Jack could pop by the office late on Friday afternoon and we could look it all up together, and have a sneaky look at Lilian Miles while we were at it. I could duplicate all our findings and make him his own file to take away, so he wouldn’t mess up my own folders. And I could get Mum to collect Dora from nursery and take her back to theirs for our Friday dinner.

‘How about Friday afternoon?’ I said. ‘About fourish?’

‘Sorry, no can do.’ Jack sounded genuinely fed up. ‘I’m filming on Friday.’

‘Oh that’s a shame. I can email you anything I find out …’

‘Are you free now?’

‘Now?’

‘Let’s do the research now. Unless you’re snowed under?’

Elly prodded me in the back and when I glanced over my shoulder at her, she made a kissing face. I stuck my tongue out at her.

‘Erm,’ I said. ‘I suppose so.’

‘I can be there in half an hour?’ Jack said.

‘Great,’ I said, feeling a little bit railroaded. ‘See you then.’

It was more like an hour and a half later when Jack strolled into the office. Most of the researchers, including Elly much to my relief, had gone home, and I’d had to call Mum in a panic and ask her to get Dora for me. I was, for the gazillionth time, thankful that I’d chosen to live so close to my parents when Greg and I split up. It may have seemed a backwards step – though not as backwards as staying in Miranda’s annexe while she was between au pairs had seemed – but it had been a good decision.

Jack looked completely different from how he was last week. His hair was swept back off his face, and he was wearing good jeans, a black T-shirt, and a nice leather biker jacket. He really was gorgeous. I felt slightly wobbly when he grinned at me as he approached my desk. Then his face fell as he clocked that there was no one else around.

‘God,’ he said. ‘Am I making you work late?’

‘No,’ I lied. ‘I had some things to do anyway.’

Jack peeled off the jacket, bundled it up and threw it down on the floor under Elly’s desk. I itched to shake it out and hang it up, but I didn’t. Then he sat down in Elly’s chair and spun round so he was facing me.

‘What do we do first?’ he asked.

My head was spinning – and not just from the way he looked or the smell of his aftershave. He was like a whirlwind, coming into my carefully ordered space and throwing everything around, metaphorically and literally I thought as his elbow caught a book that was on my desk and sent it crashing to the floor.

‘Oops,’ he said. He picked it up and put it on Elly’s desk, then turned his attention back to me.

‘How come you’ve not spoken to your aunt yet?’

Completely unable to think straight with his eyes trained on me, I opened my mouth like a guppy and nothing came out.

‘Your Aunt Lilian?’ Jack said carefully. ‘You were going to speak to her.’

‘I’ve not really had a chance,’ I said. ‘I’ve been busy.’

Jack sat back in Elly’s chair and put his feet up on her desk. He looked at me with a cheeky smile and said: ‘Sounds like there’s something holding you back. Tell me everything.’

So I did.

Well not everything. But I explained that Lil was very special to me and my siblings, so it was strange we didn’t know she’d been a pilot. Jack listened intently.

‘Miranda – that’s my sister, remember I mentioned her before? She’s very black and white and she can’t see why I won’t just ask Lil,’ I told him. ‘Dad’s the same. But I’m worried this could be something traumatic for her. If she is the Lilian Miles on the list, there has to be a reason for her not mentioning it for over seventy years. She’s quite frail now and I don’t want to upset her.’

‘You want to make sure it really is her before you go to her,’ Jack said, nodding. ‘I get that.’

‘There could be something in the records that gives us a clue about why she might not have mentioned it,’ I said. ‘Sometimes we find reports of actions that might have been upsetting. Maybe someone died – as far as I know some of the ATA did die. Amy Johnson, for one.’

‘I’ve heard of her,’ Jack said in delight. ‘She was in the ATA was she?’

I nodded. ‘Crashed in bad weather,’ I told him. ‘Obviously Lil didn’t die, but maybe she lost a friend? Or was in some sort of accident? It could be anything.’

‘You’re very caring,’ Jack said.

He pulled his chair closer to mine and I got another whiff of his aftershave.

‘You look different,’ I said, unable to resist commenting, and wanting to shift his attention off me.

‘I was doing a press conference for the new series of Mackenzie,’ he said, pulling at his T-shirt self-consciously. ‘My agent always makes me dress up for them.’

He leaned closer to me.

‘I just wear what she tells me to wear,’ he said, in a low voice even though there was no one around to hear him. ‘I’m hopeless with fashion and stuff. She gets a stylist to buy me clothes.’

He looked down at himself and then back at me with a funny, embarrassed grin. ‘What do you think?’

‘Of the clothes?’ I stammered. ‘Oh, nice. You look, erm, great.’

Jack smiled properly now. ‘So do you,’ he said.

I felt a blush crawl up my neck and on to my face so I turned away. ‘Service records,’ I said hurriedly. Thank goodness I never met the celebrities if I developed thumping big crushes like this one on them all.

‘Service records,’ Jack echoed.

We had access to so many databases, that it was hard to keep track. We used most of the Second World War ones often, but I’d never had the need to search the ATA archive before. I hoped that meant none of my colleagues checked it very often either and no one would notice me searching for a Miles family member.

It took me a while to find the right site, then check the folder where we stored all our shared logins and type it in.

When the site eventually loaded, I breathed out in relief. It was formatted exactly like most of the Forces sites. ‘It’s all very easy,’ I explained. ‘We just need to search for the name and the dates. Your grandfather …’

‘No, do Lilian first,’ Jack said. ‘Go on – I really want to know if she’s your aunt.’

With hands that trembled slightly, knowing I was doing something wrong and that Fliss would be furious if she caught me, I typed Lilian Miles and 1940–45 into the search bar and pressed return.

It took a while, but it brought up just one result. Lilian Miles, it said, 15/10/23, Air Transport Auxiliary. I gasped.

‘That’s her,’ I said. ‘That’s Lil’s date of birth.’

‘Click on it,’ Jack urged.

I shook my head, wobbling again over what I was doing. ‘I don’t need to,’ I said. ‘We know it’s her now. We don’t need to know any more.’

‘You said you might be able to work out if there was anything upsetting from looking at the records,’ Jack pointed out.

‘I don’t want to,’ I said.

But Jack leaned across me and clicked on Lil’s name, and the screen filled with details. It had Lil’s personal information – her date and place of birth, her age when she joined up, and where she did her basic training.

I glared at him, but I wasn’t really cross. It was too interesting.

I scanned the page, trying to take it all in. Lilian had done so much when she had been so young. And then, right at the bottom of the screen was what I assumed was the reason for Lil never mentioning her time in the ATA.

Jack saw it at the same time as I did.

‘Ah,’ he said.

There, in large capital letters, it said: DISHONOURABLE DISCHARGE.

Chapter 10

Lilian

June 1944

I stayed stock-still as Flora drew a line up the back of my calf.

‘It tickles,’ I giggled.

‘Don’t move,’ she warned. ‘I’ve got very steady hands but I can’t keep it straight if you wiggle. There, done.’

I twisted round so I could see her handiwork. I’d covered my legs in gravy browning. Flora’s addition – which was more gravy browning, but made up to a thicker paste – made it look like I was wearing nylon stockings.

‘Not bad,’ I said, approvingly. ‘Shall I do you now?’

‘Make sure it’s straight,’ Flora said. She hitched up her skirt and I took the narrow brush from the pot and started to draw.

‘Are you excited?’

I concentrated on keeping the line straight. ‘I love dancing,’ I said. ‘You know I love music.’

‘Maybe you can get up on stage with the band.’ Flora chuckled. ‘Show them all how it’s done.’

‘Maybe,’ I said, wishing I could. I missed playing piano more than anything else. There was a church hall in the nearby village with a rackety old upright in the corner and sometimes I sneaked in there, but it wasn’t the same.

‘When this bloody war is over, I’m going to play the piano every single day,’ I told Flora.

She smiled over her shoulder at me. ‘I’m going to wear stockings that dogs don’t want to lick,’ she said.

From across the hut, Annie joined in. ‘And I’m going to wear clothes that fit,’ she said, hitching her belt a notch tighter. Our rations didn’t seem to be going as far any more and we were all far skinnier than we’d been when the war started.

‘All done,’ I said, finishing Flora’s seams.

She peered over her shoulder and clapped her hands in pleasure. ‘Gorgeous, darling,’ she said. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind us tagging along with you and Will?’

I shook my head vigorously. ‘Not in the least,’ I said. ‘He seems nice enough, but I don’t want to be getting into romance and complications. Not here. Not now.’

Flora turned round and gazed at me, her blue eyes unblinking. I thought she was going to ask me if I was being completely honest, but she didn’t and I was grateful. Instead she squeezed my hand.

‘We’ll stick together,’ she said. ‘Like the Three Musketeers.’

I grinned. ‘One for all and all for one,’ I said. I threaded my arm through hers and then through Annie’s and we walked to the door, ready to go and meet Will.

He was waiting by the mess hut, laughing with a couple of other mechanics and smoking a cigarette.

‘Evening, ladies,’ he said, straightening up as we approached. ‘Lilian.’

I nodded to him. ‘Will,’ I said.

We fell into step as we walked down the short road to where the dance was being held. We could hear the music as we got closer and my spirits lifted a bit.

‘Like dancing?’ Will said.

I smiled. ‘I love it.’

Inside the hall was pulsing with life. We’d all been flying non-stop for weeks, getting planes in position for the landings on the beaches in France. We’d not known what was happening of course – we only found out afterwards. But we were proud to have played a part in something so important. The hard work of the last few weeks, though, meant everyone was desperate for some fun – and from the look of the hall they were already having it.

The men mostly wore RAF uniforms. They were jiving with girls in bright red lipstick, their hair shining and, I saw with a relieved smile, gravy browning on their legs. There were a few GIs; I guessed they were passing through. They were getting a lot of attention with girls flocking round them like bees round a honey pot. Some of those girls, I couldn’t help noticing, wore actual Nylon stockings. On the stage was a small band with a pianist, a drummer, a trumpet player and a female singer. Like I always did – and knowing I was being stupid – I scanned their faces, pausing a second longer on the pianist, just in case.

Will steered us over to a table in the corner. ‘Have a seat,’ he said. ‘I’ll get some drinks.’

‘Want to dance?’ Flora said.

I shook my head. ‘Not yet, I just want to sit here and soak it all up.’ It was ages since there had been a dance near enough for us all to go to. ‘You go – I’ll be fine.’

‘Sure?’ Flora looked concerned.

‘I’m sure,’ I said. ‘Will’s just gone for some drinks and you’ll be right over there.’

Flora, Annie and Will’s friends swirled off to the dance floor and I sat drinking in the atmosphere. I loved everything about it. The heat coming off the dancers, the cloud of smoke from people’s cigarettes, the buzz of conversation fighting with the music from the band. Everything. I thought I’d like to play in a dance band one day. If I ever got tired of flying.

‘You look happy,’ Will said, handing me a glass of something.

I smelled it – cider I thought – and took a suspicious sip. It was sweet and slightly fizzy.

‘I love this,’ I said to Will as he drew up a chair next to me. ‘I love how the music just makes everyone forget about their worries and throw off their responsibilities.’

‘The music and the cider,’ Will said, with a wink.

I laughed.

‘So, Lilian Miles,’ Will carried on. ‘Tell me your story.’

I blinked at him. What did he mean?

‘Not much to tell,’ I said airily.

‘How did you end up in the ATA?’

‘Oh, just thought it sounded fun,’ I said vaguely. ‘My brother’s in the RAF and I didn’t think he should be the only one who got to fly.’

Will looked impressed. ‘Must be in your blood,’ he said. ‘You’ve certainly got the knack.’

I bristled, just a little bit. ‘I’ve worked hard.’

‘Course.’ Will caught the edge to my voice and changed the subject.

‘Let me tell you about something Gareth did earlier …’ he began.

As he told the funny story, I started to relax. Will was very easy to be with – he had a sharp eye for people’s quirks and a funny way of telling stories. I laughed as he told an anecdote about some of the RAF officers on the base. He was a lovely man, I thought.