New Recruits at Goodwill House

Fenella J Miller

Description

'Curl up in a chair with Fenella J Miller's characters and lose yourself in another time and another place.' Lizzie Lane

May 1940

There are new residents at Goodwill House – WAAF drivers Camilla ‘Millie’ Cunningham and Diane Forsyth, both eager to do their bit for the war effort and excited to be helping the brave boys who fly.

And when Millie meets dashing and heroic Spitfire pilot Ted Thorrington, they strike up an instant connection. But with Hitler gaining more ground in Europe, there is danger brewing across the Channel in Dunkirk and Ted is required to fly more and more dangerous sorties, risking his life every time.

With their hearts and lives on the line, the courage of the girls in blue will be tested like never before…

Don't miss book two in the wonderful new Goodwill House series by bestselling author Fenella J. Miller!

Praise for Fenella J. Miller:

'Curl up in a chair with Fenella J Miller's characters and lose yourself in another time and another place.' Lizzie Lane

'Engaging characters and setting which whisks you back to the home front of wartime Britain. A great start to what promises to be a fabulous series.' Jean Fullerton

Sujets

• Mashups
• Feminist
• 20th Century
• Historical
• Women
• Coming of Age
• Segunda Guerra Mundial
• Friendship
• Historical romance
• Military
• Historical fiction
• Woman
• World War II
• Feminism
• The Women
• Sagas
• Family Life
• Romance
• Fiction
• Seconde Guerre mondiale

Informations

• Publié par: Boldwood Books
• Date de parution: 07 avril 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781801628372
• Langue: English

Extrait

NEW RECRUITS AT GOODWILL HOUSE
GOODWILL HOUSE SERIES


FENELLA J. MILLER
First published in Great Britain in 2022 by Boldwood Books Ltd.
Copyright © Fenella J. Miller, 2022
Cover Design by Colin Thomas
Cover Photography: Colin Thomas
The moral right of Fenella J. Miller to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Every effort has been made to obtain the necessary permissions with reference to copyright material, both illustrative and quoted. We apologise for any omissions in this respect and will be pleased to make the appropriate acknowledgements in any future edition.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Paperback ISBN 978-1-80162-834-1
Large Print ISBN 978-1-80162-835-8
Hardback ISBN 978-1-80162-833-4
Ebook ISBN 978-1-80162-837-2
Kindle ISBN 978-1-80162-836-5
Audio CD ISBN 978-1-80162-828-0
MP3 CD ISBN 978-1-80162-829-7
Digital audio download ISBN 978-1-80162-831-0


Boldwood Books Ltd
23 Bowerdean Street
London SW6 3TN
www.boldwoodbooks.com
In loving memory of my beloved husband Dusty Miller, January 1932–December 2020.
CONTENTS



Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25


Acknowledgments

Bibliography

More from Fenella J. Miller

About the Author

Sixpence Stories

About Boldwood Books
1
MAY 1940, KENT

Joanna, Lady Harcourt, was eagerly anticipating the arrival of the first of the WAAF girls. Goodwill House had seemed empty and inhospitable since her beloved daughter, Sarah, had left so precipitously to begin her medical training at the Royal Free Hospital in London.
Thank god they were now on convivial terms and there had already been three letters and two telephone calls from Sarah. Flight Lieutenant Angus Trent, Sarah’s fiancé, was stationed at Hornchurch, so the engaged couple might be able to meet up occasionally. It hardly seemed credible that her daughter was old enough not only to have left home under her own volition, and be studying to be a doctor, but was also engaged to a Spitfire pilot.
Lazarus, better known as Lazzy, the stray puppy Joanna had taken in a few weeks ago, had been a welcome distraction and she hadn’t realised how much she would enjoy the company of a dog. She’d recently signed the necessary documents with the Ministry of Agriculture; and the park surrounding Goodwill House was being ploughed up so potatoes could be planted.
There had been no further letters from David, her husband, who was commanding a brigade somewhere in France with the British Expeditionary Force – better known as the BEF – and for that she was grateful. Heaven knows how she would explain to him that his ancestral home now housed his estranged mother, was also a boarding house for young women in the services, and there was a puppy indoors. Not to mention the fact that, despite his refusing to allow the grass to be turned into farmland, she’d set aside his wishes.
Her reverie was rudely interrupted by the uninvited appearance of her mother-in-law. Despite having made it very clear that this room was out of bounds to her, the wretched woman kept coming and sitting down as if she was a welcome guest.
‘Joanna, I’ve told you more than once that David would not allow you to have a dog in the house and yet you continue to ignore my words.’
With a sigh, Joanna put aside the minutes for the last WVS meeting and resigned herself to yet another unpleasant confrontation with this garrulous and thoroughly objectionable woman.
‘And I’ve told you more than once, ma’am, that the running of the estate is none of your business. What rights you had you abandoned when you refused to attend our wedding and took yourself off to the south of France.’ She looked pointedly at the door and at the ledger she had on her lap. ‘Was there anything else?’
The telephone jangled noisily in the entrance hall but there was no need for Joanna to answer it as Liza, one of the twins who lived in, was always eager to pick up the receiver. Unfortunately, she had a tendency to yell down the wide, empty passageways rather than come in person to deliver the message.
However, today the girl arrived with a beaming smile and stepped around the other Lady Harcourt as if she was invisible. ‘My lady, them girls will be here tomorrow. Mind you, not all six of them, just two. The bloke what was on the other end of the line said the others would be here next week as planned.’
Liza, for a change, had her apron neatly tied and her grey dress was still relatively crisp and clean. What this delightful girl lacked in tidiness she more than made up for in enthusiasm.
‘Now, that is good news. Please make sure Betty knows and then you can decide which room these early arrivals will go into.’
‘Mrs Smith says to remind you that she ain’t going to be here tomorrow – she’s got to go with her hubby to Ramsgate Hospital. Somethink to do with his leg, I reckon.’
‘Of course, how silly of me. I have it in my diary. I’m sure you and Joe can manage without her supervision. Betty was telling me only yesterday what an excellent pupil you’re proving to be in the kitchen.’
The Dowager, who was unhappy at being ignored, turned to the girl. ‘Don’t stand there wasting time, girl, go about your duties at once.’
Joanna was about to intervene, but Liza was unfazed by this unwarranted and unwanted comment. ‘I’ll bring your coffee and a bit of the Victoria sandwich what I made yesterday, my lady.’
The sound of the young maid’s laughter echoed down the corridor. Joanna smiled pleasantly at the fuming old woman. ‘If you return to the drawing room, Mother-in-law, no doubt your cake and coffee will arrive in due course.’
The woman’s pale blue eyes flashed, her thin lips pursed, but she said nothing in reply. She turned and walked briskly back to the front of the house, her court shoes clacking loudly on the parquet floor.
One might have thought that having David’s mother as company now that Sarah had gone would be a good thing – the reverse was true. Joanna had disliked the woman from the moment she’d arrived four weeks ago, and her opinion hadn’t changed.
Sarah had left so suddenly because of her grandmother’s unwarranted attack on her decision to go to London with Angus – a perfectly innocent and acceptable arrangement – and for that Joanna would never forgive her mother-in-law.
Only because the house was so vast was the situation bearable. They could coexist without even seeing each other for days if they so wished. Life would be simpler if they could find common ground and at least be civil to one another and not in constant confrontation.
Joanna smiled to herself. Perhaps she should follow the example of her staff – Betty, the housekeeper and cook, was scrupulously polite when forced to speak to the senior Lady Harcourt but otherwise ignored her. The fourteen-year-old twins, Liza and Joe, were constantly on the receiving end of the woman’s criticisms but like Betty they appeared not to be bothered by it.
A prune-faced, elderly woman, Miss Baxter – addressed as Baxter by her employer – was now the personal servant of the unwanted guest. This meant five people were living together, so why did the house seem empty and no longer like home?



* * *
Camilla Cunningham had been offered the opportunity to become a clerk – special duties – but had declined. The girls who became clerks weren’t really clerks at all but as it was hush-hush, no one actually knew what they did. She had the right educational qualifications but had decided to apply to be a driver, one of the least well-paid trades in the WAAF.
Volunteering had scandalised her parents, which was the main reason for her doing so, and she’d been tempted to become a general duties WAAF – someone who did the menial work – but decided that was a step too far. Becoming a driver was more like it – it was going to be a bit of a lark learning to manoeuvre one of those giant unwieldy lorries.
It was when her mother had informed her that she was to marry the man they’d selected for her that she’d decided to rebel and leave home. Her childhood, from seven years old, had been spent at boarding school, as neither of her parents wanted a noisy child around the house.
She’d made pals with Diane Forsyth, someone from her own strata of society, and good fortune had put them through the three months of rigorous training and then to this first posting together. There might be a war on, but for her, life was exciting and she was eager to take up her post as a fully qualified WAAF driver.
‘This is the end of the line, Di, so it must be Ramsgate Station. I wonder if we’ll be picked up or have to make our own way to Goodwill House.’
The train chuffed and rocked to a standstill. Fortunately, they’d had the compartment to themselves so hadn’t been obliged to heft their heavy and unwieldy kit bags onto the parcel shelf.
‘Stodham, the village where our billet is, is about five miles from Ramsgate and adjacent to Manston, where we’re going to be working.’
‘It’s just possible we’ll be able to catch a lift from a friendly local. It’s obvious where we’re going as we’re in RAF blue.’ Di, several inches taller than Millie and considerably