The Spitfire Girls

by Soraya M. Lane

  ‘There’s no need for hand-me-downs,’ Carolyn said, visibly shuddering. ‘I wouldn’t hear of it!’

  ‘Well, thank you,’ Ruby said, squirming in her seat as she sipped her too-sweet tea. ‘But only if it’s not too much to expect, after the war.’

  ‘If you want silk, we’ll find silk,’ Carolyn said with a curt nod. And Ruby believed her. She was certain this woman got everything she wanted in life, no matter how high the stakes. ‘We certainly don’t want this to be a common wedding by anyone’s standards, now do we?’

  ‘Mmmm, of course not.’

  ‘But you wouldn’t want to show too much skin. Modest is best, don’t you think, dear?’

  Ruby blinked away images of the pretty, deep V-neckline she’d been coveting, not about to disagree. ‘Yes. Of course.’

  Tom. That’s why she was here. That was the reason she was even in this posh sitting room, pretending it was the most natural thing in the world to talk about silk and dresses and fancy cakes, despite the fact that her fiancé was away fighting, with his life on the line. The way Carolyn talked, it was like she expected the war to end and everything to go back to normal with a click of her fingers – almost as if they were pretending that Tom was away on business, and not part of a war!

  ‘And white? Or cream? I think your beautiful peachy skin tone will look stunning no matter what you wear.’

  Ruby smiled. She couldn’t wait to marry Tom, but the finer details were lost on her. She just wanted him to make it home safely; however and wherever they got married wouldn’t matter. So long as I get my Tom back.

  ‘Ruby?’

  She glanced up, realising how long she’d been in her own little world, daydreaming.

  ‘Darling, you’re a million miles away!’ Carolyn exclaimed. ‘We were just talking about cakes. Fruit cake with white icing, do you think?’

  Ruby nodded politely, as she always did. ‘That sounds perfect.’ She was certain they’d discussed the cake every single time she’d come to visit, and they always all agreed on a fruit cake.

  ‘Won’t it be wonderful to see our two lovebirds finally united,’ her own mother eventually said, giving her a strange look.

  Ruby sat up straighter, trying to focus on the conversation. But she knew why she was so distracted. She glanced down at her bag, thinking about the advertisement she’d seen in Aeroplane magazine only a few hours earlier. It was burning a hole in her mind and she wanted to find the page again and make sure she hadn’t dreamt it. It seemed an eternity since that scathing article she’d read about women pilots in the same magazine two years earlier; the tide was turning, and it wasn’t so common to read negative feedback about women taking to the sky. In fact, everyone seemed to be applauding them now, after being so terribly mean to them in the beginning.

  Women pilots. She’d read about May Jones and the First Eight with so much excitement at the time, but the idea of joining the ATA hadn’t seemed like a real possibility to her, and she’d certainly never considered that she might be good enough. Flying for fun was one thing, but flying warplanes? She couldn’t ever imagine being brave enough to put her hand up for that.

  Ruby tried to imagine what it would feel like, climbing into a plane to deliver it to a military base, and almost laughed at the thought; it seemed so ridiculous. It would be incredible and so rewarding to help the war effort so boldly, but would she be capable of flying those types of planes? Was she cut out for flying so defiantly and taking risks like that? She sighed. Probably not. Not without Tom beside her in the co-pilot seat, guiding her when she needed him.

  The wireless crackled into life, and Ruby jumped up to tune it, used to doing it for her parents, who were always glued to the news each night. She stood for a moment, listening, then shuddered when the announcer stated that Japanese aircraft had launched a surprise air raid on an airfield in Western Australia. Every bulletin made her fear for Tom, and she preferred to imagine him doing his job and coming home to her safely than worrying about every loss and casualty reported. She went back to her seat, hoping the Australian losses weren’t severe.

  ‘I pray to God they don’t attack Australia like they did Pearl Harbor,’ Carolyn said. ‘It’s unbelievable!’

  ‘It sounds like a much smaller raid,’ Ruby’s mother replied. ‘Surely we’ll see some real progress in this war soon?’

  ‘I’m certain of it. Now, Ruby, do tell me how your volunteering is going, dear? It must be very stressful trying to sort through all those letters.’

  Ruby smiled politely, reminding herself that without this woman, she wouldn’t have her Tom.

  ‘Oh, it’s going fine,’ she said, deciding not to pull out the magazine and show them the advertisement. She found her role with the post office boring and nothing like her pre-war job as a flying instructor, but she was pleased to be doing her bit and getting on with things. ‘It’s nice to know I’m helping our soldiers stay in touch with their families.’

  ‘Of course,’ Carolyn said, reaching over to pat her hand. ‘It’s wonderful you young women are stepping up and being so brave.’

  Ruby refused to look at her mother, knowing her expression would only make her laugh. She doubted her mother would ever think the job brave, but if Carolyn chose to think so highly of it, then so be it. Necessary may have been a better, more accurate description. Necessary to the war effort, but so very, very boring.

  ‘Actually, talking about being brave,’ Ruby said, choosing her words carefully. She paused to take a sip of tea before setting the cup and saucer down, rattling them with her shaking hand. ‘I saw an interesting advertisement today, looking for more women pilots to join the ATA. You don’t even need to be a qualified pilot to apply now.’

  Carolyn’s face froze for a second, then carefully composed itself again. ‘Oh, well, no wonder they’re having to advertise. They’d be hard pressed to find respectable women ready to brave the skies during wartime. It’s hardly proper for women to do such a thing. Would you believe, I heard them recruiting on the BBC the other day? The BBC of all places!’

  Ruby took a deep breath, deciding to contradict Carolyn for the very first time. How had she missed the recruitment messages on the BBC when her father had the wireless on all the time, and why hadn’t her darling mother-in-law-to-be thought to tell her about it in the first place? Anger flared within her; her cheeks burnt.

  ‘I, um, well,’ she stuttered, digging her nails into her closed fists. ‘I was actually wondering whether or not I should apply.’

  Carolyn’s cup clattered to the floor with a smash. ‘Absolutely not!’

  The silence that followed was almost painful, until her mother dropped to her knees and started to collect the broken pieces of china from the small puddle of tea on the wooden floor. Ruby unfisted her hands, but she couldn’t stop them shaking.

  She bravely stared at the woman across from her as a wave of calm swept through her. It had only been a thought, something she might never have actually done; but the moment Carolyn forbade it, it was like a switch had been flicked within her. She cleared her throat and sat taller. She might not be good enough, but it wasn’t for Carolyn to decide. That was for the ATA.

  ‘Carolyn, I, ah . . .’ she struggled with her words before forcing them out. ‘I understand that it might come as a shock, but I’m actually a well-trained pilot and I’d quite like to give this a go. I have over three hundred hours of flying experience, and I think it would be amazing to assist those incredible women who are already . . .’

  ‘What would Tom say?’ Carolyn interrupted. ‘If he was your husband, he wouldn’t hear of any of this nonsense, I can tell you that. And I will not hear of it, for that matter. I’m speaking for him in his absence, and I expressly forbid you to register.’

  Ruby bit her tongue and bent to help her mother to give her something to do. Short of saying that it was none of her or Tom’s bloody business what she chose to do, and that they weren’t married yet . . .

  She scooped a piece of china int
o her mother’s hand and touched her shoulder. She watched as a tiny prick of blood pooled on her finger where the china had pierced her, and tears filled her eyes.

  ‘Mother, may I ask what you think?’ she asked quietly. ‘Would you be proud to see me ferrying planes to our boys fighting at the front? Or do you think I should ask Tom whether he forbids it or not?’

  She was being rude, but she suddenly couldn’t help it, even though she could feel how red her cheeks must be. Would Tom dare to tell her she wasn’t allowed to fly? Was it so wrong for her to want to help her country with other brave female pilots? All those women were doing was helping their boys do their own jobs well by ferrying planes to them!

  Her mother looked like she’d rather not answer the question, but she did so anyway. ‘I wouldn’t choose the role for you, but I’m very proud of those young women who’ve taken to the skies. It’s your choice, if you’d like to apply.’

  ‘Surely you’re not going to let her do this, Sally?’ Carolyn exclaimed. ‘This is – well, it’s, it’s simply preposterous! I can’t believe you’d allow it.’

  Ruby sat down again and looked directly at her future mother-in-law, biting her lower lip before finally responding. ‘Carolyn, I was a respected pilot before the war. Tom and I fell in love because of our mutual love of flying, and when he left, the hardest thing – other than not having him – was no longer being able to fly myself, when the airfield was closed to civilian fliers.’ She spoke quietly and reached for Carolyn’s hand, looking into her eyes, speaking the truth. ‘I know in my heart that he’d be proud to see me flying again, especially if it meant helping the war effort in such an incredible way. And I want to do this. If I can be of service to the military, then I feel as if it’s my calling.’ She paused. ‘Please can you accept my decision?’

  Carolyn pushed her hand away, tears in her eyes as she stood and crossed the room to stare out the window.

  ‘I won’t allow it,’ she said. ‘I simply will not have my boy worrying about his fiancée doing a man’s job when he’s away serving. Would you dare to humiliate him like that, Ruby?’

  She didn’t answer, her eyes downcast. Her own mother had finished cleaning up the mess, and Ruby felt the warm touch of her hand on her back as she rejoined them.

  ‘There are things our girls would never have dreamt of doing before the war, Carolyn,’ Sally said gently. ‘But we need to respect their changing role in society at this difficult time. It’s not all about parties and flower arrangements these days, and we both know it. It’ll be different when it ends, but everyone who can must step up.’

  Ruby sat there, guilt weighing heavy on her shoulders. It wasn’t in her nature to cause a fuss or upset anyone, but from the moment she’d seen the advertisement she’d known in her heart it was what she wanted to do, even if she wasn’t sure she’d be accepted. She couldn’t just sit by and listen to news of the war and do nothing! She was sick and tired of feeling so helpless, and of doing little but worry about whether Tom would ever make it home. She missed flying like she’d miss a limb, and with Tom gone it had been as if the two things she loved most in the world had been stolen from her. For years she’d flown at Stag Lane, where Tom had been her flying instructor, and the memories of being in the sky with him kept her awake at night, hoping and wishing that one day they’d be back there together. It had been the most exciting time of her life, learning to pilot a plane on her own, flirting with the handsome pilot four years her senior and eventually falling for him. When he’d first left she’d even gone on to work as an instructor for a short time, until all civilian flying had been halted.

  ‘Will you at least ask my son’s permission before doing anything dramatic?’ Carolyn asked. ‘Surely you need time to think about this, to at least get your father’s permission if you’re not going to seek Tom’s?’

  ‘She has my permission, and her father will be equally proud of her decision,’ Ruby’s mother said, her voice as soft as ever, but nevertheless filled with authority. ‘I know everyone has their opinion about our female pilots, but they’re doing our country proud and I’d be honoured for my daughter to be accepted to fly with them.’

  ‘Sally!’ Carolyn spun around, her eyes wide and her mouth gaping. ‘You truly want to send your daughter to her death doing a job women shouldn’t even be allowed to do? What good are women pilots when they’ll never be able to fly as well as our men? It’s ridiculous that the idea was ever entertained in the first place! And what do we do if women start getting thoughts in their head about doing men’s work? We need them here, ready and waiting, for when our boys return!’

  ‘Enough!’ Ruby pleaded, looking from her mother to Carolyn. ‘Please, can we just enjoy being together instead of arguing? I only wanted to share my ideas with you, not cause another war to break out.’

  ‘Even if it means losing your fiancé?’ Carolyn asked, her expression turning sour. ‘Because lose him you will, Ruby. Mark my words.’

  Six weeks later, Ruby held her breath as the train started to slow. She looked anxiously out of the window as they pulled into Maidenhead station, the anticipation almost impossible to bear. She smiled at the other two women seated across from her, wondering if they could hear her heart trying to hammer its way from her chest.

  ‘Is it far from here?’ a woman asked from behind her as the train slowed, then finally halted.

  Ruby shook her head, the stranger’s Australian accent taking her by surprise. ‘No, not far at all. I’m Ruby,’ she said.

  ‘Polly,’ the woman replied, holding out her hand.

  Ruby shook hands with her and gestured towards the other two. ‘This is Evangeline and Sarah.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you both. I’m feeling a bit out of my depth here, so far from home.’

  Before they had a chance to talk further they were signalled to disembark. Ruby collected her bag and headed for the door, her knees knocking so hard she could barely put one foot in front of the other. They were to be met by cars and taken to the ATA headquarters at White Waltham, and she looked around the station, waiting for someone to step forward and show them where to assemble.

  ‘Is it always so gloomy here?’ Polly asked. ‘I’ve been in the country for over a week and I haven’t seen the sun yet!’

  Ruby patted her shoulder. ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to it. We’re as famous for our thick grey clouds as you are for your sunshine in Australia.’

  ‘This way, ladies!’ A man with a clipboard gestured towards them. He called out all their names and then ushered them to three cars, lined up and waiting to ferry them away.

  ‘Come on,’ Ruby said to Polly. ‘Sit beside me.’

  As she climbed in and the vehicle pulled away, excitement mixed with terror started to pulse through her again. The last few weeks had passed by in a blur over Christmas, from sending off her written application to the ATA to being told within weeks that she’d been accepted, based on her flying credentials and references. And now she was here, about to meet May Jones herself and the other women she’d read about but never seen in the flesh before. Her nerves were still rattling, but she was heartened by the fact that some of the other women had never even flown a plane before.

  ‘Have you been flying for long?’ Polly asked.

  Ruby turned to face her, liking her easy smile and bright blue gaze. ‘Quite a few years, but nothing like this. You?’

  ‘My father is mad on aircrafts, and I was the only child out of five that loved aviation as much as he did,’ Polly shared. ‘I’ve spent more time as a passenger than as the pilot, but I love being in the air.’

  Ruby wondered if Polly was as uncertain as she was about making the grade, whether she was having the same flutter of nerves over climbing into a huge aircraft and knowing that the delivery of every plane could take them one step closer to winning the war. She shuddered at the thought, wishing she could clear her head and stop overthinking everything.

  As the others in the car continued to chat, Ruby sta
red out of the window, her forehead touching the glass as they approached White Waltham. Would May change her mind and send some of them home before they’d even spent a day on base? What type of plane would she be flying? Would she have to undergo any formal tests or interviews?

  ‘You look nervous,’ Polly whispered in her ear as Ruby folded her hands tightly in her lap.

  ‘I am,’ she admitted. ‘It’s kind of hard to believe, you know, that we’re actually here, that this could actually be happening.’

  ‘Well, believe it,’ Polly said, patting her folded hands as they pulled in. ‘Because we are here and there’s no turning back now.’

  ‘Here we go, ladies,’ the driver announced as he pointed out of the window. ‘Head straight in there.’

  Ruby pushed open her door and studied the flat-roofed, two-storey brick building that awaited them. She held up her hand to shield her eyes from the glare as the sun peeked from between the clouds, turning only when she heard a low wolf whistle.

  She saw the men then, lounging outside another building, cigarettes in hand as they stared at the cars. And at her. She twirled the engagement ring on her finger, pleased she’d kept it there even though she didn’t expect she’d be allowed to wear it for long. Or perhaps even have a fiancé for long if she didn’t hear back from Tom soon. Clearly these men had been waiting to see the new recruits, and she knew that she’d never survive if she couldn’t deal with a whistle or two in the field.

  Ruby forced a smile and stood straight, waving a hand in their direction. ‘Afternoon, fellas,’ she said, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt.

  Some of them waved back; others looked down at their boots as if they were embarrassed. Serves them right, she thought as she walked as determinedly as she could towards the nondescript brick building.

  ‘I thought mechanics would be better-looking,’ Polly whispered with a giggle.

  Ruby averted her eyes, smiling as they made their way inside. The room was bare, with desks and chairs lining the walls and little else; and there they all stood, a growing group of women quietly chatting, until a strong voice cut through the noise.