Page 3 of The Spitfire Girls
May hesitated before speaking again, wishing they’d got off on a better footing if they were going to be working closely together. ‘Thank you, Benjamin. And if you’re assigned to me, we should be a team – there’s no reason for formalities. May will do just fine,’ she said briskly. ‘I hope you’ll forgive me for my little stunt before.’
Benjamin raised a brow, still looking unimpressed. ‘We’ll see.’
She watched him go before turning back to her squadron. They all walked outside, with May in the lead, and she cast her glance skyward. The cloud had mainly cleared, which meant conditions weren’t likely to get any better, so it was time for take-off. The planes sat in the gloomy morning like shining steeds lined up on the runway. They were a mixture of new and repaired, and May and her squadron needed to fly them to Scotland immediately, then bring back wounded, less able versions to be worked on at the factory. That was the flight she worried about most, because even the best pilot in the world was only as good as the engine and wings keeping him or her in the sky, and limping back in a damaged plane was never ideal. There would be no assigned flight mechanic at the other end to make sure they all made it home safely, that was for sure.
‘I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,’ said Amber, the youngest pilot of the group. Her voice wavered as she spoke, and May knew how she was feeling; her own bravado was more for the benefit of the other girls than a reflection of how she felt about their first real test. They’d waited all this time: so many months of her petitioning for women to have the right to assist the war effort in the sky, answering questions and refusing to take no for an answer, and then preparing the pilots to join her. Now they were finally going to be playing their part. This was it.
‘See you soon,’ May said, touching Amber’s arm as she passed her, swallowing down a stomach-curdling wave of anxiety. ‘You’ll be great up there. We all will, and it’s about time we proved exactly how we can help to turn the tide on this war.’
She winked at Betty and waved at the other girls before following the mechanic to her waiting plane. She’d been unsure whether to wait until last and wave her squadron off, or go first and lead the others into the air, but she’d decided that being first up would give the others confidence and cement her place as their leader.
The plane loomed, and Benjamin held out a hand to help her. She took it gratefully and climbed up, knowing she was being watched by every single male mechanic and ground crew member. Settling into the seat she took a deep breath and smiled as her gaze settled on the controls before her, zipping her flying jacket as high as it would go to stave off the cold and pulling her goggles down over her eyes. She was grateful for the leather hat keeping her head warm, and the fact that her big boots were lined with fleece.
You’re with me, Johnny, she thought, squeezing her eyes shut and steeling herself as a wave of emotion shuddered through her, tightening in her chest like a knife piercing her heart. His death would not be for nothing. Her big brother had given his life fighting, and she was going to make certain that every plane the army needed was delivered to them until the day the Germans surrendered.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I’m so, so sorry, Johnny.’
The loss, so recent and raw, gaped like an open wound inside her. But she was sure that however many weeks or months passed, or however long he was gone, it would never get any easier. And she still couldn’t forgive herself for the way they’d parted, her so angry that he was allowed to fly for their country and she wasn’t.
May sat tall, took a deep breath and put her hands on the controls, pushing down her emotions as she focused on her job, forcing Johnny to the back of her heart.
It was time to fly high and, freezing cold winds or not, she couldn’t wait. Johnny’s wings might have been taken from him, but she was doing this for him. She knew that wherever he was, she was making him proud: she was making it more likely that someone else’s brother could make it home. Their boys needed these planes and nothing was going to stop her from delivering them.
PART ONE
CHAPTER ONE
WASHINGTONDC, UNITEDSTATES,
LATE1941
LIZZIE
Lizzie dug her nails into her palms as she waited to be called in to see Mrs Roosevelt. She was worried her heart might beat straight out of her chest if she had to wait a moment longer, but it had already been fifteen minutes and there had been no movement since she’d been greeted and invited to sit. Her father had told her to be patient and gracious, and she was determined to be quiet and not move an inch until she was asked.
‘Miss Elizabeth Dunlop?’
Lizzie leapt up when she heard her full name, quickly smoothing down her skirt as she fixed her smile. A woman had appeared from behind a door and was now beckoning for her to follow.
‘Sorry to keep you waiting,’ the woman said pleasantly. ‘Come right this way.’
Lizzie followed, surprised to find that her stomach was doing cartwheels. She’d been preparing what to say for weeks now, but knowing that this might be her one chance to convince someone influential to assist her was weighing heavily on her mind. She gingerly patted her hair, checking that her up-do was still in place, hoping she hadn’t overdone her curls and make-up for such an important meeting.
‘Look everyone in the eye when they speak to you, but in a respectful way. Listen to them and give them your full attention,’her father had said. ‘And whatever you do, don’t go interrupting anyone! You need to think carefully about every answer you give, Lizzie. No one likes a smart mouth or a know-it-all.’
The door opened and Lizzie stepped in, her father’s words filling her mind. Then she stopped in her tracks, taking in the scene in front of her: three people looked up, and only one of them was the woman she’d expected to meet. She immediately forgot all about her appearance.
‘Elizabeth! It’s so wonderful to see you again.’
Lizzie swallowed and propelled herself forward, forcing her feet to move and her mouth not to gape. ‘Mrs Roosevelt, thank you so much for inviting me to lunch.’
She stepped into an embrace as the First Lady gave her a warm hug and a kiss to the cheek. They’d met twice before at various events, and both times she’d got the impression of immeasurable warmth. Today was no different.
‘I could hardly not invite you after your last letter,’ Mrs Roosevelt said with a laugh. ‘Your powers of persuasion are rather impressive. And, please, while you’re in my home, you’re to call me Eleanor.’
‘Eleanor,’ Lizzie said with a nod, smiling as her hostess stepped back and extended an arm.
‘Gentlemen, I’m pleased to introduce you to Miss Elizabeth Dunlop, the delightful young woman I’ve been telling you so much about.’
