Page 28 of The Spitfire Girls
‘What do you both say? A night in London, the four of us?’
Ruby nodded. ‘Of course. I’ll send word to Poll.’
‘Lizzie?’ May asked tentatively.
‘Sugar, when have I ever said no to a night out?’
May forced a smile and nodded to dismiss them both, trying not to laugh at the idea of spending an evening out with Lizzie, making friends. But they did all need to get along, and the sooner Lizzie saw that they were all just part of a jigsaw puzzle, one little piece that contributed to the war effort, the better.
CHAPTER SEVEN
LONDON,JUNE1942
LIZZIE
‘We don’t have to do this,’ Lizzie said as she changed into her dress uniform, careful to untuck her curls from her collar before doing up the buttons on her jacket.
‘We’re having a fun night out in London, Lizzie. We’ll be fine,’ Ruby said from the other side of the room. ‘Seriously, are we such bad company that you can’t even handle one night?’
Lizzie checked herself in the tiny mirror, patting her hair and smacking her lips together. ‘If I’ve upset you it wasn’t my intention,’ she said, picking up Ruby’s jacket from the other single bed and holding it up for her. Ruby looked surprised as she slipped into it. ‘I kind of thought wewerefriends anyway, to tell you the truth.’
‘Thanks,’ Ruby muttered. ‘But why are you suddenly being so nice?’
‘Iamnice,’ Lizzie said with a laugh. ‘I just like winning more than I like making friends.’
‘Sounds lonely,’ Ruby replied, an eyebrow arched.
They stared at one another and Lizzie wished she’d tried harder with her roommate. Ruby had been nothing but nice to her and she’d treated her like she wasn’t her equal – she might not be as good in the air, but she wasn’t exactly hard to be around. And itwaskind of lonely putting all her energy into winning, into being better than anyone else. Had her father felt this way? Had he been friends with his squadron or been isolated as he tried to prove himself? May was always talking about being part of a team, and the other girls were always rolling their eyes at her, but she hadn’t come to England to make friends; she’d come to make a name for herself.
‘How about we have a few drinks tonight, dance the night away and start over?’ Lizzie said, picking up her bag from her bed as a car horn tooted outside.
‘You’re serious?’ Ruby asked.
‘You make it sound like I’m so awful I couldn’t possibly be niceorfun!’
Ruby just laughed as she zipped her bag. ‘Fine, we’re starting over then. But you can’t just say you’re going to do it – you actually have to try.’
Lizzie saluted her and opened the door, letting Ruby go first down the narrow little staircase. She looked back at the bedroom, the two beds perfectly made, a small vase of flowers picked by their host sitting on the shared bedside table. The room was sweet but it was also stiflingly small, and she was looking forward to having more space at the Savoy for the one night they were there.
‘Hurry up!’ Ruby called from downstairs.
Lizzie was about to yell down some smart reply but kept her mouth shut as she raced down the stairs. Maybe Ruby was right – it was going to be hard being nice!
‘Goodbye, Mrs Robinson!’ she called out to their host, shutting the door behind her. She looked through the open window by the door and caught sight of the older lady, leaning out and waving to Ruby – she was a sweet woman and seemed to love the comings and goings of her two young guests.
Outside, Polly waved from the driver’s seat and Ruby climbed in beside her, leaving the back seat for Lizzie. May was meeting them later in the evening, so it was just the three of them heading into London.
‘Morning,’ she said, smiling at Polly. The pretty blonde had her hair up, her lips painted a bright red to match her nails. ‘Thanks for the ride.’
‘My pleasure. Now, let’s go. We’ve got a train to catch and I don’t want to waste a second of our leave!’ Polly said, planting her foot on the accelerator and sending them all flying back into their seats. Lizzie laughed. Maybe the Brits were more fun than she’d given them credit for.
London was nothing like Lizzie had expected. She’d spent time there briefly when they’d first been based at White Waltham, but aside from their scheduled two days of leave every two weeks, there was little time for fun or exploring her new country. But after enduring the newly arrived Captain Montgomery earlier in the week, she was more than happy to escape reality for a night. He was infuriating; the man seemed to enjoy lording his rank and experience over her, and instead of pushing her to do better, he was getting under her skin and driving her mad. She grimaced, wondering if it was actually because he was the first man in a long while to be completely immune to her charms. She’d even fluttered her lashes at him and given him a few sweet-as-pie Southern smiles, but it only seemed to annoy him more.
She stared out the taxi window, nose almost to the glass as she studied the city. Lizzie imagined it would have been beautiful before the war, but the bombs had wreaked havoc: entire blocks were gone, with foundations sticking up haphazardly, reminding her of a graveyard. She also couldn’t get used to the barrage balloons that seemed to float so lazily in the sky in an attempt to discourage low-level attacks. Seeing it like this, the reality of war hit her like an unexpected blow. Even though they were flying military planes, she hadn’t truly seen the war herself; she hadn’t actually lived through it like the local pilots had, and it struck her that her hometown could look like this if war found its way to American shores. Pearl Harbor had already been destroyed, but imagining her own beloved streets bombed, everything she knew and loved being in danger like this, was sobering. She’d found her father’s stories glamorous, when in reality war was anything but.
She’d been naive enough to think that London wouldn’t be so affected, but between bombed buildings and the blackout, not to mention the wailing siren that echoed to warn of air raids, it was a city struggling. The only thing she’d really noticed where they were based was the food rations, but they still had plenty to eat. Lizzie smiled, thinking about her mother, who’d worried before she left about what food would be available, hands on hips as she’d fretted about how skinny her daughter might be on her return. Once she started flying the four-engine bombers, planes that usually had a crew of more than four men,skinnywould be the least of her mother’s worries.
‘Here you are, luv,’ the taxi driver said as he pulled over, parked cars blocking him from taking them straight to the door.
