Beauty Chorus, The by Kate Lord Brown Page B

safely.
    Now, as I descend silently through the sea of clouds towards eternity, I am nearly out of gas and completely out of luck. I know this is it. The descent lasts a lifetime, and my heart
tightens on itself as I wait. I would rather die than be burnt or disfigured, so would most of the girls – our greatest fear is hitting the deck in a flamer. I am frozen on the stick, cold
sweat trickling down my spine. That my life has come down to this – luck – is galling, when I have always directed my own fate. Land or water? Heads or tails? Life or death? We’ll
see.

 
    7
    The ferry pool at White Waltham was subdued. The pilots carried on their urgent work regardless, but the girls thought constantly of Amy.
    ‘Is there still no news?’ Megan rubbed her freezing hands together as she waited for the ground-school class to begin. ‘We all know how dangerous this is, but I never thought
… of all of us, for Amy to go.’
    Evie paled. ‘I’m all for a bit of an adventure, but if a world-class pilot like Johnnie loses her life doing this ferrying lark, well, I’m not sure it’s for me.’
She frowned as Beau strode past. ‘And it’s not as if the natives are friendly either.’
    ‘Morning, girls, come on in. We’re waiting for you.’ CFI MacMillan beckoned them into the training room.
    ‘Come on.’ Megan took Evie’s arm. ‘There’s no way you’re backing out now.’ Reluctantly, Evie followed the other girls into class. As they took seats at
the desks, the male pilots watched them with interest.
    ‘What else are you going to do? Go home to your stepmother?’ Stella whispered. She glanced over at a dark-haired pilot who was eyeing Evie up. ‘Taken in the right spirit this
will be fun. It’s just like being back at school,’ Stella said drily as Pauline strode in.
    ‘Though there’s less chance of being bumped off at school,’ Evie whispered.
    ‘Please sit down,’ Pauline said briskly. ‘I just wanted to welcome you all to White Waltham and congratulate you on joining the ATA.’ She looked at each pilot in turn,
making eye contact. ‘The work you do here is vital to the war effort. As you may have heard, we have sadly lost First Officer Johnson.’ She looked down at her hands. ‘It is a sad
day for the ATA, and for aviation. There will be a memorial service at St Martin in the Fields on the 14th, and I would encourage those of you not flying that day to attend.’
    Pauline looked at the girls. ‘I have always maintained that flying is the best career a woman can have, but let this be a reminder to you. ATA work is thrilling, but dangerous. You will
fly unarmed and without instruments. We never, ever encourage our pilots to go “over the top” in bad weather, as Amy did. We would rather our pilots waited for it to clear up, however
long that takes. The planes are needed urgently by our fighting squadrons – but it will always be your choice whether or not to fly.’ She leant on the desk in front of her.
‘Frankly, I would rather my pilots returned home safely. We can always replace a plane, but we can’t replace you.’ She looked directly at Evie. ‘Now, I’ll leave you in
the capable hands of MacMillan’s team. Good luck and welcome on board.’
    ‘Crikey,’ Megan whispered, ‘if Amy crashed because she went over the top, what hope have we got?’
    ‘She didn’t crash.’ One of the male pilots leant over. ‘She ran out of fuel, pitched up in the drink a hundred miles off course.’
    ‘Have they … have they found her body?’ Stella asked.
    ‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘You should hear some of the stories going round the mess. People are saying she was ferrying a spy, or helping a German escape. Maybe she was shot
down by a Messerschmidt—’
    ‘Or friendly fire!’ the man at his side chipped in.
    ‘All of which is hearsay and tittle-tattle,’ MacMillan said firmly. ‘Right, welcome to the ATA. While you are with us, you will be flying with some of the