‘Okay,’ Lizzie said, running her finger across her lips as if she were zipping them shut. ‘No work talk.’
Lizzie gazed at her surroundings, admiring the beauty of the glamorous, much-loved hotel. This was the one place in London that had surpassed her expectations; even with bomb damage it was still as elegant as ever. For one glorious night they’d be sharing a room here instead of in another family’s home. If that meant not talking about who was going to get that first flight, then so be it.
There were already people waiting in a line to check in, so she sat in one of the big chairs and gestured for the other two to do the same.
‘You know, the second night I was here the Wailing Willy went off, warning of an air raid, and I had no idea what was going on,’ Lizzie told the other two as they sat down. ‘I eventually emerged in my dressing gown and was given a good telling off, but I’d decided to just hide under the covers and pray for the bloody best.’
‘Ha, listen to you now!’ Polly said. ‘You sound like a proper Brit, and you haven’t been here more than a few months.’
Lizzie supposed she had picked up some of the weird British sayings, like calling the air raid siren a Wailing Willy, but there were other things about being in England that she’d never get the hang of. Like the time she’d asked for the restroom and been taken to a room to rest in, with no toilet in sight. Or some of the other unusual sayings that didn’t make any sense. But it was the look of things and even the taste of things that she still found particularly foreign. At home she was used to corner drug stores with soda fountains and clean cafes with good food. And the ice creams? Ugh, she’d tasted one just before their production was banned – they were deemed not to have any food value during wartime – and it was disgusting. More like old dishwater compared to the smooth, silky taste of ice cream back home.
‘So where are we going tonight?’ Ruby asked. ‘What’s the plan once we’ve taken our bags up?’
Lizzie shrugged. ‘We’re going wherever we can find handsome men, eat a good steak, and dance the night away.’
Ruby shook her head, smiling. ‘You haven’t forgotten that I’m a promised woman, have you?’
‘Doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun,’ Lizzie said with a wink. ‘God knows he will if he gets a night out on the town somewhere, and, Polly, you’re single, aren’t you?’
‘Why, yes I am,’ Polly said. ‘And it just so happens that I’m dying to meet a fella to take my mind off this war!’
‘To hell with it, you’re right,’ said Ruby. ‘I’m an independent woman contributing to the war effort. He’d better not warm anyone else’s bed, but we all deserve some fun and he’s been an idiot lately anyway. He’s lucky I haven’t called off the engagement!’
Lizzie could see how hard Ruby was trying to be brave; she’d heard the other girls talking about how difficult her fiancé had been. ‘He’s lucky to have you, Ruby,’ she said. ‘Honestly, he is.’
Ruby looked amazed for a second, before slowly smiling. ‘Thanks, Liz. That actually means a lot.’
‘Come on, let’s check in and get our party frocks on,’ Lizzie said, not wanting Ruby to think she’d gone all soft on her. She only had one dress, but after months of wearing her uniform day in, day out, it felt like she was about to put on the most special dress in the world – not to mention her beautiful brown silk stockings that she was so careful with. ‘All I can think about is what we’re going to be eating tonight, and it had better not include cabbage or Brussels sprouts!’
‘I need a big juicy piece of meat. And some jolly good gravy to go with it.’ Polly sighed. ‘Heaven on a plate.’
‘Don’t forget the gin,’ Lizzie added. ‘I’d go for one of your British gin and tonics right about now.’
‘May said she’d be here by early evening at the latest,’ Ruby told them. ‘I actually think she might be impressed by how well we’ve been getting along so far.’
‘I wouldn’t go getting too ahead of yourself,’ Polly teased.
Lizzie flashed Polly a smile, liking the smart-mouthed Australian.
‘Have you been elsewhere in London during an air raid?’ Ruby asked as they approached the reception desk. ‘When you first arrived, I mean?’
‘No, just that once. I probably didn’t take it seriously enough.’
‘Most of London is squashed into the underground during a raid, on cold damp floors, but the crowd here gets pampered even when we’re being bombed.’ Ruby shook her head. ‘Liz, it’s scary when the sirens go off, if you’ve been here when a bomb has actually hit. When you’ve got to race for cover, when you’re not staying somewhere fancy like this, it’s terrifying. It makes it all so real, that we’re only one bomb away from being a casualty.’
Lizzie squeezed Ruby’s hand. ‘I’m sorry, I was just trying to make light of it. You know me.’
Ruby’s smile was sad, and Lizzie wondered if she’d pushed too far.
‘Just don’t forget that this war is real,’ Ruby reminded her. ‘And we’ve all lost someone or something. It’s not a game to us.’
‘I promise you, it’s not a game to me either,’ Lizzie assured her.
‘Well, we’d better not have a bloody air raid tonight. I want to party for hours then sleep for longer than I’ve slept in months,’ Polly moaned, as Ruby laughed and gave their names to the front desk clerk.
Lizzie couldn’t agree more. ‘Let’s go to our room, take a nap, then get ourselves all dolled up so we’re ready when May gets here.’
‘I thought I’d find you ladies in here.’
‘May!’ Ruby and Polly chimed at the same time, as their commander walked into the bar.
‘When it started to get dark we thought you weren’t going to make it.’ Lizzie beckoned the waiter over as May settled into the seat next to her. ‘But you’re just in time. We’ve only had two drinks.’
‘I was called into a late meeting, but I wouldn’t have missed this for the world,’ May said.
‘What can I get you to drink, ma’am?’
Lizzie studied May as she ordered champagne, watching the confident way she held herself and the commanding way she spoke. Since they’d been transferred, Lizzie had noticed the change in her commander, the way she’d seemed to grow into her role and was more comfortable being in charge with every passing day. But it was clearly taking its toll on her – the lines around her eyes were more pronounced, the tiredness impossible not to notice. Also, she had the distinct feeling that May was holding back, that with her new-found confidence she was also somehow distancing herself from the others.
‘So what have I missed?’ May asked.
‘Lizzie’s had me looking for handsome fellas for her,’ Ruby said. ‘Haven’t seen one yet that’s she’s interested in, though.’
Lizzie laughed. ‘I think our young friend is a virgin, she’s so shy.’
‘Lizzie!’ Ruby gasped, swatting at her.
‘We can’t all be as experienced as you, Miss Dunlop,’ Polly quipped, taking a slow sip of her drink and winking, which sent them all into raucous laughter again.
‘But she’s not such bad company after a drink!’ Ruby said with a grin.
‘How dare you even think that I’m some sort of a hussy!’ exclaimed Lizzie, in mock horror. It wasn’t like she’d bedded more men than she could count, but she was no innocent and she wasn’t about to pretend otherwise. ‘But we’re not quite so prim and proper as you Brits back home in the US of A.’
‘Ladies,’ said a deep, welcoming voice from behind them.
Lizzie turned to see three men dressed in air force uniform. ‘Well, look what the cat dragged in,’ she drawled.
‘And just like that, bees to honey,’ May whispered under her breath, making Lizzie laugh.
‘Don’t come near me – I’m engaged,’ Ruby announced.
Lizzie rolled her eyes at her, then noticed May busying herself with her champagne. Polly was the only one looking interested.
‘Boys, can’t a girl have
a drink without being approached?’ she asked.
‘Oh, you’re American,’ said the first man, as one of his buddies gave him an obvious nudge.
‘As American as can be,’ she said, then gestured towards her glass. ‘If you gentlemen are going to join us . . .’
‘Get the girls more champagne,’ he said, giving her a grin that made her want to laugh. He looked like she’d just invited him to join her in bed. ‘I’m James, Officer James Caldwell.’
‘Well, fancy that, ladies,’ Lizzie said. ‘We were just about to head to the Officer’s Club, weren’t we?’
‘Could you not just stay here for a drink first?’ he asked. ‘We’re . . . well, I’ll let Danny tell you all about it.’
Lizzie swapped glances with Polly. She couldn’t wait to hear the pick-up lines that were about to be deployed.
‘You see, we’re pilots and . . .’ The flyboy she now knew to be Danny gave a sorrowful look that she was certain was well-practised as he leaned closer and lowered his voice. ‘Well we’re going to be in the sky facing the enemy, wrangling with machines you couldn’t even imagine.’
‘Is that so?’ May said, finishing her drink and gratefully accepting another from the third man. She winked over at Lizzie.
‘Sorry darling, I didn’t catch your name,’ Lizzie said to the man carrying the drinks.
‘Oh, I’m Patrick,’ he said, passing champagne to Polly.
Lizzie saw James kick him, and bit her tongue in amusement.
‘Officer Patrick Todd,’ he quickly added.
‘Ah, so you’re a pilot, too.’
May pulled her chair closer and gave Lizzie a wide-eyed look. ‘Do tell us more. What are you boys up against?’
‘Well, you see, ladies,’ James said, ‘we’re in dangerous situations every single day.’
‘Uh-huh,’ May said, nodding.
When Danny took Lizzie’s hand, she smiled sweetly and let him hold it.
‘Honey,’ he said, ‘my engine could quit on me, any time, any day. You have no idea what kind of big planes I’m in charge of.’
At that moment Ruby came to life and burst out laughing. ‘Oh, but we do!’ she said gleefully.
Lizzie hid her smile and watched as May coughed, her eyes dancing. These poor boys were going to be mortified when they realised they were all pilots, and that May was technically superior to them. She’d never realised her commander could be so much fun!
‘Honey, trust me,’ Patrick said. ‘There’s no way you could understand what we go through every day. It’s tough work, but someone has to be brave and do it.’
‘But . . .’ Ruby started.
May interrupted by holding up her hand and reaching into her bag. She pulled out a newspaper and unfolded it.
‘There was another reason I was late tonight,’ she said, as Danny reached for the paper. ‘I wanted to be the one to show it to you so it didn’t come as a surprise, and I was waiting to receive a copy.’
‘Oh my Lord, it’s me!’ Ruby squealed and leapt off her chair, snatching the paper from Danny and waving it at them all.
Lizzie swallowed, forcing a smile as she digested the picture splashed across the front page of the Picture Post. Ruby was smiling as she ran her fingers through her long dark hair, dressed in her flying suit and striding away from her plane. A bomber. A huge bomber. As if she were a world-class movie star staring down the lens of the camera. And just like that, all thoughts she’d had about being friends with the other girls disappeared, and instead her desire to be the first female pilot in a Halifax lit up again, like a flame. She wasn’t going to admit to her father that a woman with half the flying hours could beat her. Failure was not in her vocabulary, and it should have been her on the cover!
But it was the headline that riled her the most. She would have done anything to send a cutting like that to her daddy!
Beauty and the Bomber. Will this pin-up pilot be the first to fly a big-boy bomber over London?
‘I thought you’d want to see it,’ May said, one hand on Ruby’s shoulder. ‘You should be proud that they put this on the front cover. It’s validation for all of us.’
Lizzie sucked up her pride and kept her smile firmly in place, not about to let on that it had rattled her to see that image of Ruby’s beautiful face. Why was she jealous? This stupid picture didn’t mean anything. But she knew it wasn’t her beauty that bothered her; it was that Ruby had been publicly earmarked by the papers as the first female to ferry a four-engine bomber, and it was an accolade that she’d wanted to secure ahead of every other woman she trained with. She wanted to be the one recognised by everyone, on both sides of the pond, as the best female flier to ever pilot a bomber, and she wasn’t going to let this stop her from getting there.
‘Congratulations,’ she said through gritted teeth, trying to sound warm. ‘It’s a gorgeous picture.’
Ruby passed the paper back to May. ‘The picture looks all glamorous, but I’m not going to be the one flying the first bomber and we both know it.’
Lizzie shrugged and held up her glass, looking at the men, who were all standing with their mouths hanging open. She knew it wasn’t sporting to think so, but the more Ruby doubted herself, the more chance she had of beating her.
‘Sorry, that’s you in the picture, right?’ Danny asked. ‘The, ah, pilot?’
‘Of course it’s her, you idiot,’ James cursed, cuffing him around the ears.
‘Senior Commander May Jones,’ May said, sitting back in her chair. ‘And these three women here happen to be among my most talented pilots. First Officer Lizzie Dunlop,’ she indicated, ‘and First Officer Ruby Sanders, from Ferry Pool No. 15 at Hamble, as well as our very talented Executive Officer Polly Simmons, who is based at White Waltham.’
Patrick’s gulp was visible. ‘I’m sorry, I . . .’
‘At ease, my boy,’ May said. ‘Now, how about you tell us more about these extraordinary big planes you’re in charge of?’
All three men went beetroot red, their cheeks on fire as first Danny stumbled a few steps back, followed by the others. They muttered their excuses and headed for the bar.
May and Polly laughed and so did Lizzie, but Ruby was staring at the paper again, clearly in shock.
‘Put that rag away and let’s go,’ said Lizzie abruptly, not wanting to even glimpse the headline again.
May gave her a sharp look, but Lizzie ignored her, not about to be drawn in to any conversation about who would or wouldn’t be flying the first bomber. She had something to prove, both here and at home, and if the decision hadn’t been made yet, then she still had time when they got back to Hamble – front page news or not.
‘Where are we going?’ Ruby asked, appearing more sober now.
‘To Hyde Park to dance,’ Lizzie said, finishing her drink and putting her bag over her shoulder. ‘I’ve heard the Lansdowne is the place for great music. And in the morning, before we leave, we’re going to the Red Cross Club for the best darn milkshakes around.’
Ruby shook her head. ‘How about something to eat here and then I can sneak off to bed?’
Lizzie glared at her. ‘Not a chance. This is our one night of fun and I’m not letting you sleep through it.’
‘I second that!’ Polly said.
Ruby groaned, but held up her hands in defeat. ‘Fine, but at least let me go to the toilet before you drag me all over London.’
Polly went with her, and the moment they disappeared May touched Lizzie’s arm.
‘I didn’t mean the article to upset you,’ she said. ‘But I thought it was better for you to see it now, rather than splashed across all the papers in the morning.’
Lizzie shrugged and waved her hand as if it were the least of her worries. ‘I’m happy for her, truly,’ she said, lying through her teeth. ‘She’s a great girl and she’s a talented flier.’
‘But you still think you’re better,’ May said quietly, her words a statement rather than a question.
‘I know you Brits don’t
like bragging, but, yes, I do think I’m better than her. I thought that much was obvious?’ She furiously blinked as tears pricked her eyes; she mustn’t let anyone see how upset she was. ‘I’m going to win, no matter what some stupid paper says.’
May’s brows shot up. ‘Stop calling us you Brits. It’s getting on my nerves and you’re as good as one of us now. That’s what this whole night was supposed to be about,’ she snapped. ‘And this isn’t a race between anyone, Lizzie. The first woman chosen will be representing all the women of the ATA, to show what we’re capable of, to pave the way for all the rest of us. It’s not about one woman winning, it’s about the right woman taking the lead on the first flight, and the only reason I have you training against one another is to push you both to be the best pilots you can be.’
Lizzie took a deep breath. ‘That’s it, isn’t it? You can’t have an American take the honours of first flight, can you? Am I even in the running? Or do you already have this whole thing stitched up while pretending it’s an even contest?’
May looked fierce, and folded her arms across her chest. ‘The first woman pilot to take command of a four-engine bomber will be chosen on merit, not nationality, and that decision will be made by myself and at least two of my superiors,’ she said firmly. ‘And Lizzie, you are a better pilot under normal circumstances and in a lighter aircraft, but in a big bomber? You and Ruby are neck and neck. You’ve logged the same number of training hours, and the only difference right now is that you’re more confident than her.’
‘Neck and neck about what?’ Ruby asked, from behind them.
Lizzie spun around. ‘Nothing. Now let’s get out of here.’
‘I can’t believe you’re taking me out dancing,’ Ruby murmured as they moved through the crowd of beautifully dressed men and women.
‘Well, believe it,’ Lizzie said, wishing she was in the air proving May wrong rather than walking arm in arm with her British friends towards the door. ‘This is going to be a night to remember.’
But just as they stepped outside, the unmistakable noise of the air raid siren cut through the air.
The Spitfire Girls Page 11
