Page 11 of The Island Girls

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’sclothing 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 areat 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 twoglasses 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.

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