On a sunny lunchtime, diners pack the outdoor tables of the cafe at the Spitfire Museum in Manston, Kent, where memories of Britain’s finest hour are lovingly preserved. Settling down to a menu of Hurricane rolls and Merlin baps, one visitor asks her companion about the abandoned buildings in the distance, behind the wire fence. “I think that used to be an airport,” he replies.

This is Manston – no second world war relic. It was hosting international passenger flights as recently as 2014, when residents would pop over on KLM to its Amsterdam hub – briefly linking the Isle of Thanet to the entire world. It was touted by Ukip – if no others – as an alternative to expanding Heathrow, as aviation demanded more flights in south-east England. Then it was suddenly, controversially, closed by Ann Gloag, the Stagecoach tycoon, who had handed over just £1 for the heavily indebted airport a few months earlier.

Four years on, Manston lies dormant, and a bitter row is simmering over its future. Interested parties must register before midnight on Monday to have a say in a planning decision that could see Manston reopen as a cargo hub, handling up to 83,000 (nearly 230 every day ) freight aircraft a year. Consent would let RiverOak, an offshoot of a US private equity firm, buy the site through compulsory purchase from current owner Stone Hill Park, which plans to build thousands of homes and a business park on the site.

For some, including local MPs, a reopened airport spells more skilled jobs in an area where they have long been scarce. For others, particularly in Ramsgate (a mile from the runway) it means planes flying noisily and startlingly low over houses and the historic centre, straight across the revitalised harbour – possibly throughout the night. And suspicion is high on all sides about the motives of those involved.

Gloag is a controversial figure for airport backers. While Kent county council also decided that it was not a viable airport, reopening Manston became a key Ukip pledge, in its Brexit-backing heartland. Yet even the Ukip district council leader concluded, on scrutinising RiverOak plans, that it couldn’t work – resigning in February and splitting the party. So why would this time be different for Manston?

Speaking from his Connecticut office, George Yerrall of RiverOak says they would change focus to ramp up freight operations, investing in 19 cargo stands. “Cargo is having a difficult time getting into the south-east of England, and the market would embrace this. Freighters either can’t get a landing slot near London or have decided to land in Liège and truck it in.” He says there are no plans for night flights.

Opponents say Yerrall’s promised boost to Kent’s trade should be treated with suspicion. In the planning application, RiverOak has sought a noise quota which would allow an average eight flights a night – and a laden 747 makes significantly more noise than the passenger jets that recently flew. In a cafe on Ramsgate’s harbourside, Ineke Longmore of the No Night Flights campaign, says: “The planes would come over so low that the house would shake.”

She is sceptical that the plans will come to fruition: “Before Ann Gloag bought it, nobody wanted it. It’s a money pit, at the end of the country.” It only makes sense, she says, as a “land grab” by someone eyeing valuable housing development rather than a long-term airport. Susan Kennedy, a local Labour councillor, agrees: “People have been sold the story of jobs coming out of their airport for 20 years. There is no business case, or national need.”

But for many residents the jobs were real, and they believe they could come again. Ducking low-flying seagulls on the terrace of Ramsgate’s resplendent seafront Wetherspoons pub is Marta Easton, who spent 25 years employed by Manston. In days when golfers might jet in and racehorses were flown to Dubai, she ran its car parks, duty-free and welcomed VIPs to the first-class lounge; she has not been able to find work since. Ramsgate’s ferry services to Europe and a nearby pharmaceutical research plant both closed earlier in the decade, she points out: “We used to have a Sally Line, and Pfizers at Sandwich, but what is left here in terms of good, well-paid jobs?”

A common refrain from airport backers is that the area doesn’t need more houses, but jobs. “I was born here – most of the people against this moved here for an easy life,” says Easton’s husband, Gary, also a former Manston employee. “We had the RAF here – we didn’t complain. And a lot of ex-Soviet aircraft – by God, they were noisy, but they’ve gone. If Manston was open and successful, people in our family might be able to work here. It’s our great hope.”