by H. P. Munro
The band started to play an instrumental piece and Lily became aware of Helen's pinkie tapping on the back of her hand, Lily frowned, as the beat that Helen was keeping didn't relate to the rhythm of the music being played. It seemed unusual, as she thought from her experience of dancing with her, that the blonde had a decent sense of rhythm. Lily's puzzlement disappeared as her training kicked in and her brain started to pick up patterns, slowly her mind automatically started to translate the patterns into letters.
Helen paused for a moment before starting to tap again. This time Lily was fully focused and a few minutes later was grinning as she had deciphered the message Helen had been relaying onto her hand. Leaning close so Eva and Eli couldn't hear her, Lily whispered nonchalantly, “You got your W mixed up with your L.” She turned to cock an eyebrow at Helen.
“I did?” Helen replied quietly as she repeated the message, her head nodding as she converted the letters trying to spot her mistake.
Lily snorted quietly. “I'm pretty sure you don't want to drag me out of here, get me naked so you can make wove to me,” she whispered in response.
Smiling Helen leaned forward, her lips almost brushing Lily's ear. “I weally weally want to make wove to you,” she breathed.
Lily held up one finger motioning for the waiter, “Check please. Eva I'm really sorry, it's been a long day and I'm so tired, I need to get to bed.” She plunged her hand into her purse and smacked a handful of bills onto the table, before grabbing Helen's hand and dragging her from the booth.
Eva smirked knowingly against the rim of her glass, “Sure you do Honey!”
Chapter Eleven
Lily and Helen spent the next forty-eight hours in a bubble in Lily's apartment, neither wishing to go out in public where they would have to be guarded with their touches or glances.
Eva disappeared after the first night to give them some privacy, but not before she'd cornered Helen and given her a graphic speech about what would happen to her were she to hurt Lily in any way. Helen for her part had been somewhere between amused and terrified at the description of the pain that would be inflicted upon her person should that event ever occur.
They passed the time listening to Lily's eclectic collection of seventy eights, and cooking together in Lily's small kitchen. For the first time they deliberately shared a bathtub when it had water in it, laughing as they compared the experience to their late night study sessions. They knew that they were trying desperately to form shared memories to bolster them during their enforced separation. Each experience was tinged with an aura of sadness that their reality was going to be far removed from these few days in New York 'playing home'.
Lily finished giving Helen an impromptu, if rather naked, virtuoso performance of 'Flight of the Bumblebee' while standing on the end of the bed. She finished with a flourish; holding her violin and bow out wide from her side, she gave a flamboyant bow then jumped off the bed and placed them down onto the dresser before returning and crawling up the length of her lover's body.
“I'd have loved to have seen you perform with the orchestra,” Helen mused lifting Lily's fingertips to her mouth, kissing the pads of Lily's fingers enjoying the roughness, caused from hours of violin playing, against her lips.
“Well maybe, when everything's back to normal, you will,” Lily smiled. “We should get out of the apartment today.” She started to kiss along Helen's collarbone.
“Nope,” Helen said stubbornly, closing her eyes and shaking her head.
“We took a big step yesterday getting out of bed,” Lily smirked continuing to kiss Helen's skin. “We should make sure we don't lose momentum.”
“Nope,” Helen repeated. “Not happening.”
Lily moved her hands down quickly to Helen's sensitive sides. “We need to go out for your present,” she murmured as she pressed her fingers into the soft flesh or Helen's side.
Helen wriggled frantically to get away from Lily's tickle assault, succeeding only in propelling them both off the bed and onto the floor. As they lay laughing in a heap still wrapped in their bed sheet Lily propped herself on her elbow
“Well it looks like we're up now,” Helen moaned as Lily smiled leaning down to kiss her.
***
Lily's violin case brushed her leg as they walked along, Helen's arm looped tightly through hers, both were thankful that the cold weather gave them an excuse to huddle close as they walked. Helen was still walking around taking in the sights of New York; her head practically rotating three hundred and sixty degrees as they walked along the streets.
“Where we going?” she asked for fifth time since they had left the apartment. “Are we there yet?”
“You'll see and almost,” Lily replied smiling as Helen turned walking sideways so she could still see the large billboard with a cartoon man advertising Camel cigarettes, smoke billowing from the sign through a hole where his mouth was. Stopping outside a door Helen, still slightly distracted by the advertisement, bumped into Lily as she shuddered to a halt.
“We're here,” Lily announced, rapping her knuckles against the door. There was a long pause before the door opened, the door replaced by a tall black man stood in the doorway. “Chief,” Lily smiled in greeting.
“Lily McAllister,” the tall man said, his voice deep and rich, his lips parted into a broad smile. “I thought you'd taken to the sky,” he said chuckling. “Come in,” he said, stepping to the side and motioning for them to enter.
“I have, I'm on leave, I wondered if I might, you know. For old time’s sake,” she asked hopefully.
Helen looked between them confused, as she hadn't been in the city long enough to have any directional sense she'd not really been paying attention to where they'd walked in relation to Lily's apartment.
“Sure, no problem,” the man replied. “You want the works?” he asked.
Glancing at an ever more confused Helen, Lily nodded, “Please.”
“Miss, if you'd like to come with me,” he said gently, taking Helen by the elbow. “Everyone calls me Chief, ‘cause I'm in charge and I know how.” He held up his large palm in a mock Indian greeting, chuckling at his own joke.
“Helen,” she replied, trying to keep up with his long strides. She turned back to look at Lily, her brow furrowing even more as the corridor behind them was empty. “Where are we exactly?”
The Chief looked surprised at her question as he threw open a door. “Why, Carnegie Hall of course,” he replied, sweeping his arm into the auditorium.
Blinking in surprise Helen entered the hall, her eyes sweeping around the rows of red seats and balcony tiers above her. She walked with the Chief into the hall and sat down where she was told. The tall man gave a signal to the back of the hall and the sound of a switch being flipped echoed around as the auditorium plunged into darkness. Helen looked around, her hand gripping the arm rests, still unsure what was happening. She blinked trying to acclimatize her eyes to the dark, when a spotlight snapped on. She turned back into her seat and looked towards the stage. Illuminated by the spot light was Lily, her violin poised beneath her chin. She drew her bow across the strings and started to play the piece that Helen had heard her play on their second night at Avenger Field.
Helen felt as though someone had placed a hand on her chest and pushed her back into her seat, her back flush against the cushioned fabric. Her heart thumped as Lily swayed with each movement of her bow, she listened as the music that had captured her attention those months ago in an aircraft hangar, was now being played on the stage at Carnegie Hall by the woman who had also captivated her heart and soul.
She felt wetness on her cheek as the depth of emotion that she felt for Lily overawed her, tears of joy left her eyes and trickled down her face. Lily paused with her eyes closed as she played the final note, standing with her bow in place as if she was going to continue. Helen leapt to her feet and applauded.
“Merry Christmas,” Lily shouted from the stage, bringing her hand up to shield her eyes so she could see down i
nto the stalls and see the eyes of the woman she loved.
***
On Christmas morning they rose and entered the kitchen, sitting on the table were two framed photographs of them, taken while they had been in the supper club a few evening before, underneath the frames was a hand written note.
An evening to remember, something to help with the days and nights, nights and days!
Fly safe always.
Eva and Eli.
They smiled at the gifts, lifting the photographs up, it was a thoughtful gift, however, it served only to remind them that their days together were running short. They made breakfast with a heavy silence hovering over them. After breakfast, Helen snuggled closer to Lily on the sofa as they listened to the radio.
“Thank you for the best Christmas present ever.”
“I'm glad you liked it,” Lily replied. “I had no idea what to get you and I wanted to get you a forever gift.”
“It was. I will never forget how amazing you looked and sounded Liliana, although I also enjoyed the naked end of the bed performance. Just so you know,” she smirked. “I have your gift.” She extricated herself from Lily's embrace and skipped off into the bedroom, returning a moment later with a small simple rectangular box. Lily took the box studying Helen's face as her fingers tightened around it. She slowly slipped the lid off and examined the contents, a small gasp leaving her lips as comprehension dawned on her
“Helen, I can't,” she thrust her hands out urging the blonde woman to take the box back.
Pushing the box back towards Lily, Helen smiled, “You can. I want you to.”
“I can't take your father's wings,” she said looking at the US Army Air Force wings presented in the box.
“You can and you will,” Helen said emphatically. “This is a forever gift as well Liliana. You're the caretaker of those wings until we can be together again and when that happens, I don't intend on leaving you again.”
Lily looked at the wings then back to Helen. “I will take really good care of them,” she said simply.
“I know you will,” Helen said leaning forward to press her lips against Lily's.
***
At New Year’s, the city seemed determined to ensure that all service personnel had the best New Year that New York could deliver. There were fairs, shows and parties put on all over the city; however, Lily and Helen were oblivious to the celebrations as they continued to cram as much time together in as possible. Their impending departure played on their minds, but by silent agreement, neither mentioned it. They celebrated the first moments of 1944 from the cocoon of their bed, maximizing what time they had left to indulge in each other’s bodies.
All too soon, they were standing in the entrance hall of Amarillo's train station. Their flight back west had been punctuated with small talk, both too overwhelmed with emotion to discuss what they were facing into. The rain beat a tattoo on the roof of the building as they watched the clock inching towards the time when Lily's train would depart.
“You ride carefully,” Lily warned. “The roads will be greasy with all this rain.”
Helen nodded sadly, “I will, I promise.” Sucking in a sharp intake of breath that caused the pain in her chest to intensify, “I could…”
Lily put her finger on Helen's lips, “I know what you're about to say and no, we agreed, if we try and extend this anymore it's just going to get harder.” She moved her hand to cup Helen's face, the blonde woman squeezed her eyes closed and leaned into the touch. A call came for the train that started Lily's journey to Las Vegas. She dropped her hand from Helen's face and clutched at the blonde woman's hand. “I love you. Write to me every day,” she said quickly swallowing the lump that was rising in her throat.
Helen nodded dumbly, “I will.”
Lily pulled her into a quick hug then broke away, their fingers finally separating. As Lily moved swiftly away, Helen felt a breath rush from her body. “Liliana,” she gasped, her voice breaking.
Lily turned, her face glistening with tears as she studied Helen's face. Knowing exactly what was being said without the words being uttered, she gave a small smile and nodded, then turned to enter the platform.
Helen puffed up her cheeks and let out a long breath before turning and heading out into the rain, she pulled her slicker close to her body as she dropped down onto her motorcycle. Rocking the bike off its stand she switched the ignition on and kick started the engine. As she heard a whistle blow behind her and the sound of a train start to chug its way out of the station, she tugged the throttle and smiled at the pleasure of hearing the engine purr in response. Sitting back on her seat, Helen pushed wet tendrils of hair out of her face and looked skywards allowing the rain to mingle with the tears on her face as her motorcycle throbbed beneath her, waiting on her to set it to life. Brushing her palm across her face to remove the water from her skin, she shrugged and gripped the handlebars of her bike. She set off, the engine roaring as the back wheel skidded back and forth before getting solid purchase and propelling her towards her new home.
Chapter Twelve
February 1944, Dodge City Army Air Base, Dodge City, Kansas
Helen thumped a pile of papers down on the desk, in the four weeks since her arrival at Dodge, the nearest she'd got to flying was when she jumped down the remaining stairs from the observation tower. She had realized that this might not be the prime posting that Foster had tried to sell it as, almost as soon as she'd arrived at the gate and had a half hour long conversation with the guard about her reasons for being there.
“Are you a nurse?” the guard asked for the fourth time.
Helen frowned pointing at her uniform, “No, I'm a WASP.”
“No idea what that is, Ma'am,” he shook his head and turned to walk away from her.
“Wait, I've been posted here, I have orders,” Helen pulled her papers from her purse and flapped them around. “I have orders to report to Major Chiswell.”
The guard had taken the orders and reviewed them with a suspicious look on his face, he moved back into the guardhouse taking her papers with him. Helen waited kicking her toe idly against the rubber of her motorcycle’s front wheel. Ten minutes later he reappeared shaking his head. She walked back towards him.
“Says here you're a pilot. That right?” he asked, handing the papers back.
Helen practically snatched the papers from his hand annoyed at his condescending tone, “That's right, I'm a pilot.”
He gave a chuckle, “That's about the most insane thing I think I've heard. I wouldn't get in a car with my wife driving it never mind up in a plane with a woman flying it.”
Helen glowered at him. “Do I have clearance?” she asked not bothering to disguise her anger in her tone.
“What? Oh yes,” he waved a dismissive hand. “Third building on the right.”
Helen stuffed her papers back into her bag, stomped over to her cycle, and remounted, her frustration swelling as the cycle refused to start on her first kick. She gave it another attempt, catching the smirk on the guard’s face as she struggled with the starter. Finally, the engine submitted to her demands and spluttered into life. She rode the bike the short distance to the guard and stopped the bike in front of him.
“I'm sorry was it the second building?” she asked innocently, planting her feet firmly at either side of the cycle.
The guard rolled his eyes and sighed. “Third. The third building,” he corrected.
Helen nodded and thanked him; keeping her feet on the ground, she pressed on the brakes and pulled the throttle back hard causing the back wheel to spin and skid back and forth, dirt kicked up and hit the guard, smoke surrounded them. After a second, Helen released the throttle and the smoke subsided. She turned and looked at the guard, now covered in a fine layer of dirt and dust.
“Oops sorry,” she sang. “Stupid machines, being a woman I'm not really sure what I'm doing.” She gave him a dimpled smile as she sat down on the motorcycle and rode into the base, laughing to herself.
Her conversation with the major had not given her much more confidence, she was the first WASP to be placed at Dodge and they weren't set up to have her on the base. She spent her first night in a local hotel, until hastily arranged accommodation in the nurse's quarters was available. She moved in her seat picking up another manila folder, the rustle of paper in her pocket made her forget her frustration at her current situation and think of Lily. She pulled the letter that she had received that morning from her pocket and read it for the third time.
Dearest Helen
It was lovely to get your letter. I'm practically hounding the office when it's mail time to see whether I have a letter from you.
I've still not adjusted to the temperature change here; the weather in Las Vegas couldn't be more different to our time in New York. Although there were some hot moments in NYC I guess!
I am loving the planes here, I did a delivery last week. It was a lovely flight…looong though. I got there around dusk and I was really tired and I guess the guy on the ground was too, ‘cause when I passed him my papers he handed me a box. I didn't really think much about it and headed to my hotel. When I opened the box it was a prophylactic! Guess we know what the guys get up to when they go there. (It's in my locker…unused!) I was back there a couple days ago with another plane and the same guy was working, he could barely look me in the eye. He apologized for giving me the kit though.
Did you get a letter from the other girls? I got one yesterday, sounds like they've settled in well to their bases.
There's so much that I want to say…
IWU
Yours
Liliana
Helen sighed reading the letter. She was happy for Lily that she was enjoying her posting, but couldn't help but feel a tad jealous that her own experience wasn't as positive. She trailed her fingers across Lily's cursive handwriting, her fingertips following the flowing IWU, smiling at the hidden message within the three letters. Knowing that their correspondence would not be private, they had agreed to use the letters as their own personal ‘I love you’, referring to Helen's Morse Code mix up. Feeling her anger rise again at the waste of her skills Helen folded the letter and placed it back in the pocket of her blue uniform slacks.
