Chapter 6

6

POOLE – JANUARY 1941

Peggy loaded all ten passengers into the launch from the pontoon at Salterns Marina and, with Nora's help, got them settled into the cabin, safe from the cold wind and rain that was beginning to fall. They'd mostly been brought there directly from the train, but there was one couple who'd had an extended stay at the Harbour Heights Hotel. She glanced up in the direction of the beautiful and very classy hotel building on the hill as she navigated her way out of the marina and into the main channel, headed for the C-class. The plump seabird waited patiently for them to arrive, bobbing on its moorings looking just like any other boat in the harbour, except for its wide wingspan with two propellers on each wing.

She drew the launch in to nestle under the protection of the flying boat's outstretched wing, just like a duckling diving for cover under the safety of mother duck. As the last of the passengers were settled aboard, she turned the launch carefully away and heard the engines start up behind her and build to a powerful roar. The cabin crew took in the mooring line and the flying boat began its slow taxi to the start of the runway trots.

Peggy picked up speed and, with one eye on the flying boat, she took the launch as fast as she dared, sea water spraying out beside and behind her just as it did on the flying boats as they took off and landed. She felt the freezing wind in her face and, closing her eyes, imagined she was flying the plane and could take off, rising clear of the harbour at any moment. But she knew the launch and the harbour so well, with all its busy activity and deadly sandbars that she only gave herself a second or two before she dropped the speed, opened her eyes, and hoped nobody had noticed her speedy little escapade.

The tone of the engines on the flying boat stepped up a few notes and she turned back to watch it begin its take-off, speeding down runway number one, directly parallel to Brownsea Island, then it lifted off and left the harbour below as it climbed fast and disappeared over the other side of the island, heading westward.

Peggy turned her face towards the quay where she was headed and was soon gliding in past Fisherman's Dock and expertly bringing the launch alongside the quay. She noticed the two cars and a small truck parked outside the pottery and knew that Rose Stevens would be waiting for her. The plan had been for Peggy to go and see about the driving instruction before lunch, but some other jobs had cropped up so all she'd had time for was a quick visit to tell Rose she'd be back after her last run of the day in the early afternoon.

Peggy's hands were cold and stiff from the freezing salty sea spray, so she first went inside to warm them by the fire and swallowed a quick cup of hot tea to warm her insides. Then she took the brisk walk down the quay to the front of the pottery and went in to find Rose, who looked up from her desk with a warm smile.

‘Ready for the off, Peggy?' Rose asked, as she picked up some keys and led the boatwoman back downstairs to the cars waiting outside. Peggy simply nodded with anticipation. She had revelled in the chance to captain her own boat, and now the idea of taking charge of a car was just as thrilling.

‘The fruit and other supplies that came in from Lisbon this morning are due up at the Harbour Heights Hotel, so we've had them loaded into the back of the truck. It drives just like a car, so there's nothing difficult there – especially as you've already driven a grocer's van. But it is just a bit less comfortable and ornate on the inside than the major's car,' Rose said and laughed as she unlocked the doors. ‘How confident do you think you are to get right into the driver's seat Peggy? Would you prefer to watch me first?' Rose asked.

‘It's been a little while since I first had a go at driving, so perhaps I should watch you first, just to be safe,' said Peggy.

‘Rightio, then. You jump in the passenger side, and I'll take the driving seat. I'll explain everything as I go, then we'll stop halfway so you can have a turn,' said Rose, as she started the engine and began to run through the motions, explaining everything to Peggy with practised patience.

‘The clutch pedal is the hardest thing to master, as I'm sure you'll remember, but it just takes practice,' said Rose as her own foot slipped off the clutch and she crunched the gearbox, wincing as she did.

‘Yes, I remember that was a bit tricky, but at least I remember the order of things. Clutch down, into first gear, clutch up slowly and press on the accelerator,' said Peggy.

‘You've got it. And you use the same foot for the brake as you do the accelerator,' Rose said to remind Peggy. They had driven away from the quay and up the High Street, and were just pulling into the gates of Poole Park.

‘Shall I pull over here in the park, Peggy? There are hardly any other cars around, so this would be a good quiet place to start, I think,' said Rose, more to herself than as a question to Peggy. She pulled into the side of the road near the big boating lake then opened the door and got out. Peggy did the same and felt her heartbeat quicken as she sat in the driver's seat and took hold of the big steering wheel firmly. Rose had left the engine running, and reminded Peggy what to do first.

Both girls laughed at Peggy's first attempt to raise the clutch slowly, which meant they bunny-hopped a few yards while she was getting used to things, but by the time they made it through to the other side of the park, she was in third gear and the knack had all come flooding back.

‘You're a natural, Peggy Symonds. It took me a week to become as confident as you are already!' cooed Rose.

‘I have done it before, of course. But I'm also used to listening to the hum of an engine and hearing what she wants from me,' said Peggy, feeling almost as though she should apologise for being able to pick up the new skill so readily.

‘You'll be a great help to us if you can manage some driving from time to time. Things are getting more and more busy, and I'm flat-strapped just seeing to all the security paperwork that is coming through the BOAC office these days. We could really do with an extra pair of hands, but it is so hard to find anyone. I don't suppose your sister is interested in working?' asked Rose.

‘She might get back to it at some point, I suppose, but I don't think that's likely. She's simply too unwell at the moment, and before too long, the baby will be here. She can't get through a day without being sick and feels absolutely rotten all the time,' Peggy offered with a grimace.

‘My sister's been the same too, though thankfully she's past the worst of the sickness now. But she's too tired for any work. She's managing the house for the pair of us while I'm working. It will be lovely having little babies around to play with, won't it?' Rose beamed. ‘Something to brighten the days a little.'

Peggy nodded and smiled but remembered last night's raid and the way the morning had begun. This afternoon, she was smiling and chatting and learning a new skill but her brother and brother-in-law were away in the war, and just this morning, the telegram that had arrived might have changed her life forever and brought news that Samuel was one more statistic. It was the same for Rose and her sister, Peggy thought solemnly, as both their husbands were also away defending England from Hitler.

Just last year when the Germans had taken Paris and invaded Holland and Belgium too, it had seemed certain that England would be invaded within weeks. Peggy had woken up in a cold sweat on several nights, fearing she could hear German soldiers landing on the little shaley beach at the back of her parents' home and coming to knock the door down. And all of England had lived in the same fear. The Dunkirk evacuation had been an amazing feat, but it was still just a retreat away from the winning side, and all those refugees who'd arrived on Brownsea Island seemed shell-shocked from what they'd seen in Holland.

But the months had gone on and no invasion had happened. With every passing day, there was hope that England might have time to bolster their defences and be able to ward Hitler off when he came. But they knew he would come. The air raids that were destroying half the country were a clear sign of his intentions. Peggy was just beginning to realise how long both she and Rose had remained quiet when they passed the site of a recently bombed home, still smoking and surrounded by people who were searching through the debris.

‘I hope there's nobody trapped inside there,' said Rose quietly. If there was, there'd be no hope for them now. Suddenly, the thought of bringing new babies into this world didn't seem quite such a jolly idea, after all.

They reached the peak of Evening Hill and both glanced out across the harbour to Brownsea Island and the Purbecks beyond, each one taking in the more cheerful sight than the bombed house they'd passed.

‘Always such a lovely view,' said Peggy, noticing the strength of the tide as it pulled all the moored flying boats so they pointed the same direction. A small seaplane flew in and landed on the waters, heading towards the Royal Motor Yacht Club where the Royal Navy base was stationed.

‘That reminds me,' said Rose with a jollier tone in her voice once more, ‘did you hear about the Australians moving in at Hamworthy?'

‘Australians? No, I hadn't heard. Why Hamworthy?' asked Peggy.

‘They're a squadron of the Royal Australian Air Force, come to fly Short Sunderlands with the RAF and Royal Navy. They're taking over the base at HMS Turtle in Hamworthy, just by Lake Pier, as an RAF base. There've been trainloads of equipment coming in and the airmen are starting to arrive now too. We're sure to meet them before long. They're moving here from RAF Mountbatten in Plymouth, so I heard,' explained Rose.

‘Well, that's all right with me,' Peggy said, ‘a whole squadron of Australian airmen visiting town! That will make things interesting at the dance on Saturday night.'

The two girls laughed, and Peggy pulled into the driveway of the Harbour Heights Hotel.

‘Shall I just go up the main driveway to the hotel front doors?' asked Peggy, wondering if there was a deliveries entry she should aim for instead.

‘Yes, that'll do. Stop here and I'll nip inside to see where they want these crates.'

Peggy pulled on the handbrake and sat at the wheel, still enjoying being in control of the vehicle and more than a little pleased with how well she had handled her first driving job for BOAC. Within a few minutes, Rose returned and a man in cook's clothing came out from a side door to meet her, then they walked over to the truck and Peggy got out to help with the unloading.

‘What will you be doing with these pineapples, do you think?' Peggy asked in wonder as the aroma of the tropical fruit hit her senses for the second time that day.

‘Fruit salads, cocktails, and some fresh juices I imagine,' replied the cook as he heaved the last crate inside, then he winked and beckoned Peggy and Rose to the kitchen door with him. He looked around the kitchen furtively, then picked up a couple of oranges and handed them one each.

‘Don't tell anyone, or you won't be seeing me here again, if you get my meaning,' he said quietly, then beamed and winked as he waved them goodbye and shut the door. Rose and Peggy quickly stashed the oranges into their coat pockets and once back inside the truck, they let their laughter rip.

‘Fresh oranges! Who'd have thought we'd be so blessed today, hey?' asked Rose. ‘My sister will love this. We'll share it after tea.'

Peggy agreed it would be too delicious to keep to herself and knew she'd be eating only a quarter of hers once she'd shared it with Mum, Dad, and Molly, but she was already enjoying the look of delight she anticipated she'd see on their faces.

‘There have to be some bright spots in these dark days, and this is one of them, don't you think?' Peggy asked Rose, who agreed heartily.

As Peggy drove them back to Poole Quay, it was nearly four o'clock and the deep mid-winter dusk was settling in for a dark night ahead. They made it back before lights were necessary, which was just as well seeing as they were not allowed in the blackout. Peggy parked the car up outside the pottery, and Rose shook her hand as they parted.

‘Consider yourself inducted as a driver for BOAC, Peggy Symonds. You're as fabulous behind the wheel of a car as you are at the helm of a boat,' said Rose with a bright smile. ‘I'll let Mr Carter know – Major Carter, I should say – in the morning when I see him, and whenever you aren't needed on the launches, we will get in touch if we need a driver.'

By Saturday night, it was widely known that there were some very friendly Australians in town, and all the single girls – and a few of the not-so-single girls – were looking forward to the chance of a dance with their first ever Australian airman. But Peggy already had her dance partner fixed and, as she dressed, pulling on a precious pair of stockings and painting on her lipstick on Saturday night, she smiled and hummed to herself as she remembered meeting Flight Lieutenant Taylor earlier in the week.

After she'd heard about the arrival of the Australian squadron from Rose Stevens on Monday afternoon, she'd quickly put the thought aside as she had walked home in the cold and the dark, clutching the sunshine-infused orange in her pocket. She had found Molly in the kitchen helping her mother to prepare dinner, and her father was just coming in from the back garden having finished with his nets and jobs for the day.

‘I've got a wonderful surprise for you all,' she said with glee and waited until all eyes were on her before she theatrically pulled the orange from her pocket and put it in the middle of the kitchen table, to the delighted sounds telling of her family's joy. They'd all wanted to know at once where she'd got it from and when they'd finished their meal, mother had carefully cut it into quarters so they could all enjoy the treat.

‘Well, this is one bonus to you meeting flying boats that are coming in from the warmer climes, my love,' crooned her father as he licked the orange juice from his lips.

‘Mmm, I can't remember when I last had an orange, Peg; it must be well over a year ago now. Certainly not since rationing began, that's for sure. I feel so much better tonight, after that dinner, and now this lovely fruit is just the icing on the cake,' said Molly.

‘That will be good for you, Molly love – bound to help you feel a little better,' said Mother, clearly thinking of the vitamins she knew her expectant daughter needed.

‘It's put me in a mood to celebrate,' said her father. ‘How about we all go down to the Antelope for a quick pint, hey? A bit of stout would do our Molly good, and we could all do with a pick-me-up after last night.'

So far there had been no warning signs of another air raid, and the whole family – the whole nation – hoped for a peaceful night's sleep ahead. But the Symonds family readily agreed to an outing to celebrate the ‘night of the orange', and wrapped themselves up in scarves, hats, gloves, and coats and headed off towards their favourite inn at the bottom end of the High Street. They had only intended to stay for one drink, but once they opened the doors and went inside, they discovered the bar was alive with a party atmosphere, and the uniforms were a mix of English Royal Navy and Royal Australian Air Force. The Australian airmen were being treated to their first Poole pint by some of the local Royal Navy boys.

‘Let me give you a hand, Dad,' said Peggy. ‘You'll never get to the bar in this crush.'

She found that heads turned and a path was made between the men when she waded through the crowd towards the bar, with her father following in her wake. Peggy ordered a half a pint of stout for her sister, a pint of best bitter for her dad and two glasses of port and lemonade for herself and her mother. Her father paid and turned back to the corner table with the beers in his hand, and just as Peggy was about to pick up the glasses for herself and her mother a manly hand reached out and collected them first. Indignant, Peggy looked up into the cheeriest face she'd ever seen on a man. He had a wavy, blonde fringe and tanned skin that spoke of summer in just the same way that the orange had done.

‘Let me help you with these, can I? This mob will knock you and spill them in no time. You make a path and I'll follow behind,' the rather forthright Australian said.

Unable to think of any reason not to accept, and yet feeling a little put out that he'd taken charge so easily, Peggy did as he suggested. But she couldn't help noticing the looks of envy in the eyes of the other men in the bar between whom she made a path, and she held her head a little higher. When they reached the corner table where her family was sitting, all eyes were on the Australian. Mr Symonds put down the two beers and stood to greet him, shaking the man's hand and introducing his wife and daughters.

‘Darrell Taylor's my name – Flight Lieutenant Darrell Taylor, of course, but Darrell will do just fine.' He beamed, and soon he was regaling them with tales of kangaroos in the streets, which delighted them, and of snakes in the roof, which horrified the women.

‘Yeah, but it's a ripper place, though. And I've never in my life been so cold as I am here this winter. How do you all survive it year after year? And how long until summer starts?' he asked them, astounded to hear that it might not be what he would call properly warm until late May or June even.

‘And what are your squadron doing here, Mr Taylor?' Peggy asked him politely.

‘Darrell, love, just Darrell. We fly Short Sunderlands back at home, and we've been running them down at Plymouth – and they've moved us here. Getting a bit crowded in Plymouth it was, and you've got a real beaut big harbour here. Plenty of room for us to share it with the civilian flying boats, and lovely shallow water too, perfect for landings and take-off.'

‘Our daughter here, Peggy, works with the flying boats, you know – the civilian ones that is. Tell 'im all about it, Peggy,' encouraged Mrs Symonds.

‘We're a fishing family, so I know how to handle a boat, thanks to Dad, and I run one of the launches that take the passengers and crew in and out to the BOAC flying boats,' said Peggy, a little embarrassed about putting herself forwards.

‘Well, I never – a working woman with a real skill. That's impressive, I'll say,' said Darrell, taking a big swill of the beer his mate had brought over to him, but he made a sour face as he swallowed.

‘Can't say as I'll ever get used to this grog though,' he said, nodding towards his beer glass. ‘This is not what we would call beer at home.'

‘That's a good pint of proper bitter, that is,' said Mr Symonds proudly. ‘It'll put hairs on your chest, son.' The women squealed with delight as Darrell made as if to peer into his uniform shirt to see if it was working yet, and by the end of the evening, the Symonds family had named Flight Lieutenant Darrell Taylor as a close family friend who was welcome at their table, any time.

They'd seen him a couple of nights later as well, and that's when Molly had told him about the dance on Saturday night.

‘How many of you will be going along, do you think?' she asked him. ‘I'll not be there, being a married woman and needing to put this baby to bed early,' she giggled, patting her now obvious baby bump. ‘But Peggy will go, won't you Peg?' said Molly, giving her little sister a big nudge in the ribs.

‘Will you, Peggy? Well, if you'll be there, I will be as well – provided we aren't called out on a run, that is. But I should be getting Saturday off, all being well,' Darrell said with a smile that was meant just for Peggy. And by the end of that night, it was fixed that she'd be dancing with him, at least the first three.

And now the night of the dance had come, and Peggy realised how much she was counting on Darrell being there. As she walked up the street, arm in arm with her friends whom she had gathered along the way, she checked herself, remembering that it was never a certainty that a serviceman had the power to be where he had said he hoped to be, but all the same, she was so looking forward to seeing that smiling face.

Peggy hadn't even reached the dance hall when she saw a half dozen or so of the RAAF men whose faces had become familiar through the week. They had been waiting at the doors to the dance hall and, as Peggy approached, Darrell stepped out of the crowd and came to take her arm.

‘Miss Symonds, I believe you've promised to dance with me?' he teased her, and before she even stepped into the dance hall, Peggy was certain she could predict exactly how the next year of her life was about to develop. And nothing would have convinced her on this happy night of dancing and flirting to imagine anything like the strange reality that was about to unfold.