Page 13 of The London Girls
Florence forced herself to walk closer, ignoring the doubt in her mind as she listened carefully to what Theresa was saying.
‘This here is a 350cc Royal Enfield WD/C motorcycle,’ Theresa said, her body angled so that they could all hear her. ‘They’re excellent for navigating our roads at the moment, because they’re both nimble and fast. Now this is how you start a motorcycle, watch me carefully.’ She made it look so easy, and when she gestured for Florence to step closer, she hesitantly moved forward. If only she could have seen one of the other girls go before her, so she had longer to figure it all out.
‘You need to sit confidently on the bike, balancing yourself like this in the middle of the seat, and with your hands here.’ Theresa demonstrated, showing her the correct position, before indicatingthat it was her turn to try. Florence stepped forward and did as she was told, feeling slightly better now that she was actually giving it a try herself – perhaps it wasn’t going to be so hard after all, if she stopped worrying so much. All she needed to do was listen to Theresa and follow her instructions, and she was thankful at least that her feet comfortably touched the ground, which made correcting her balance that much easier.
‘Good, your position is great,’ Theresa said. ‘Now, to start her up, just like I did. The hardest part is getting the hang of how to kick it down, and for those of you who are smaller, you’ll have to jump down hard on it. Once you’re in gear you can slowly ease off the brakes, and then you’re away! But I suggest you start out slow to get a feel for her; it’s easy to go too fast and then panic, and before you know it you’ve got a motorcycle on top of you!’
A motorcycle on top of me? Oh Lord.
The sound of the engine wasn’t something Florence was used to, and she found that it was the noise more than anything else that set her teeth to rattling with nerves again. Well, that and the terrifying pep talk she’d just received. She glanced up and saw Theresa watching her, smiling encouragement, and further afield the commander, only his face was hovering in a frown. She gripped the handles more tightly.
‘You can go whenever you’re ready, just remember to ease off the brakes slowly. Don’t go too slow though, or you’ll find it impossible to balance.’
So do I go fast or slow? What happened to starting out slow!Florence kicked down to start the motorcycle, taking five tries before she finally got it, cringing as she held the clutch and put it into gear before lurching forward. But Theresa’s words of encouragement gave her the confidence she needed, and she attempted to go faster then, believing it would make everything easier for heras she continued to wobble over the grass.Fast but not too fast. Just stay steady. You can do this.
Flo grinned as the bike steadied, suddenly feeling in control.I’m doing it! I’m actually doing this!
It was when the group of Navy boys caught her eye, some of them doubled over as they howled with laughter, that her newfound confidence faltered. She was going too fast, her mind suddenly blank as she tried to slow down, the grass slippery beneath the tyres, and that was all it took for her to lose her nerve. She wobbled and nearly fell off, managing to correct herself at the last moment, only in her confusion she accidentally accelerated, her fingers slipping when she tried to brake, the bike too fast beneath her.
And then everything began to happen too quickly, the wind whipping her face as she panicked about how to slow down, and before she knew it the fence was somehow coming towards her as she screamed. The impact of the front wheel on the wooden post was enough to send her flying through the air, plum over the fence to land with a thud on the grass on the other side.
Florence heard hoots of laughter and loud clapping, and she would have preferred to curl into a ball rather than sit up, but she couldn’t exactly hide in plain sight like a child playing peek-a-boo with her hands over her eyes. Pain ricocheted up her hip and down her left leg, but she pushed herself up, not wanting to lie there.
‘You all right there?’ a voice said from behind her. She looked up at a frowning man wearing a Navy uniform, his blue eyes seeming to search her body. He was perhaps thirty years old, not handsome but not unattractive either. She imagined he’d perhaps be nicer-looking if he smiled. ‘Is anything obviously broken?’
She wiggled her fingers and stretched out her legs, forcing herself to stand once she realised everything was still working. ‘The only thing broken is my pride.’ Florence gingerly touched her head,which had started to pound, wondering how on earth she was on the opposite side of the fence to the bike.
‘This is exactly why women shouldn’t be riding motorcycles,’ he muttered, striding over to the wire fence and holding it down for her to climb over. She did so as modestly as she could in her skirt, trying desperately not to limp, and she nodded her thanks as they stood beside the motorcycle, joined within seconds by the commander and Theresa. She’d never felt so embarrassed in all her life.
‘What a disaster!’ Commander Mac exploded. ‘To damage a motorcycle in less than a minute? Now that must be some sort of a bloody record!’
Florence was about to hang her head, but as she was beginning to look down, her eyes landed on a small van further away in the field. If only she’d been driving a vehicle instead of a motorcycle.
‘I’m sorry, sir,’ she said. ‘I’m an excellent driver of vehicles, and I expected riding to be much the same.’
‘I suggest you stop speaking,’ he grumbled. ‘Dismissed!’
She summoned all her bravery and faced him squarely, not following orders for the very first time in her life. She could not have her day end like this, as a complete and utter failure, an embarrassment that would almost certainly be reported to her superiors at Norfolk House. ‘Sir, I’m sorry, but I would like a second chance to prove myself to you.’
His face had turned a deep red now, like he was about to explode, and Theresa was slowly shaking her head beside him, as if trying to warn her to stop talking. The other woman was looking at her as if she were crazy, but Florence felt far more confident now than she had sitting astride the motorcycle.
‘Sir, I believe I can drive that van over there better than half the men watching.’ She hooked her thumb at the men still gathered. ‘If you just gave me the cha—’
‘I’d say what you’ve just had was a chance,’ he interrupted. ‘And it wasn’t successful, in case you’ve neglected to notice the state of the brand-new motorcycle you so elegantly dismounted from!’
Florence opened her mouth to speak again, but her words faltered.What are you doing? Why can you not just admit that you’ve failed? Why can’t you just walk away?
Because I have something to prove. Because I have something to give. Because this can’t be the end for me. Not today, not after everything I’ve been through, not after everything I’ve survived.
She caught movement from the corner of her eye and noticed Ava coming towards her, her eyes kind but her expression verging on pity, and it was all Florence needed to spur her into action. No one was taking pity on her. It was one thing to pity her for what had happened to her family – those looks she’d been able to accept – but she was not going to let anyone look at her that way again, not if she could help it. She was going to show everyone just how capable she was – that she wasn’t just the poor girl who’d lost her family to the might of the Luftwaffe.
‘I wholeheartedly suggest you stick with typing,’ Commander Mac said, dismissing her for the second time as he turned to address Theresa. ‘I’m not certain we should risk any more motorcycles after that spectacular failure.’
‘Sir, with all due respect,’ Theresa said, just loud enough for Florence to overhear. ‘If we don’t find some other riders to train soon, you’ll have to withdraw men you were intending to send to the front. I’d say that would be more of a disaster than giving these other women a chance today.’
As he ran his fingers across his neatly trimmed moustache, clearly deep in thought, Florence decided to take matters into her own hands. She strode across the grass, refusing to limp even though her left hip was crying out at her to stop walking, and shedidn’t slow until she reached the small van that was parked on the concrete.
You can do this. You were driving from the moment you could see over the steering wheel. This is your last chance to prove that you’re not just some useless woman!
