The Spitfire Girls(15)
They both smiled back at her, but May gestured to the vacant seats. ‘We seem to be missing the others, too. Have you seen them?’
Lizzie grimaced. ‘Oh, well, I tried to rouse them but it seems it’ll just be the three of us.’ It wasn’t the best first impression they could have made, but they’d clearly been exhausted and she didn’t want to be too hard on them yet. ‘We had an intense training programme in Montreal and I expect they wanted a decent rest before travelling to London tomorrow.’
‘I see,’ May said abruptly, clearly annoyed. ‘I expect they’ll be more reliable once we reach our headquarters? We also have a rather intense training programme here in England, and I’d hate to think they’re not cut out for it after coming all this way.’
‘You won’t have to worry about them. Drinks?’ Lizzie asked, brushing the criticism off. ‘What do you girls recommend on this side of the ocean?’
A waiter appeared and May spoke up. ‘Three Pimm’s, please.’
Lizzie noticed Ruby’s raised brows.
‘Since when do you drink?’ Ruby asked.
‘Since our American cousins stood us up,’ May replied tartly.
Lizzie stifled a laugh at her rigid response. ‘It’s only dinner, May. Don’t get your knickers in a knot. And do tell me what a Pimm’s is, would you?’
May’s stare was as cold as ice. ‘That’s Commander Jones to you, and I’ll have you know that I wouldn’t accept this level of tardiness from even my newest recruits. Your pilots should be here.’
‘My apologies, Commander,’ Lizzie said, giving her a mock salute before laughing; the look on the other woman’s face was almost comical.
‘A Pimm’s is alcohol and lemonade mixed together,’ Ruby interrupted in an obvious effort to diffuse the situation. ‘Before the war we’d mix fruit with it – it’s divine with summer berries thrown in.’
Lizzie sat back and considered the women in front of her. She wasn’t sure exactly how Ruby fitted in, but May was clearly her superior, and from the way Ruby kept glancing at her, it was obvious she wanted to please her. Perhaps she was new to flying, or at least newly recruited. May was clearly the one she needed to impress, not her little sidekick, and they’d already got off on the wrong foot.
‘So tell me,’ Lizzie said, addressing May. ‘What’s it really like flying those beautiful big planes day in, day out?’
The look on May’s face softened a little. ‘The day you first fly a plane that you know scares the heck out of men? Nothing beats that feeling,’ she replied. ‘Knowing that you’re delivering it, and that within hours it could be shooting at the enemy – it’s incredible.’
‘So what kind of planes will I be able to get my hands on?’ Lizzie asked. ‘Anything exciting?’
‘Well, Spitfires to begin with,’ May said. ‘Depending on your aptitude, you may be put forward for the larger four-engine bombers, but we haven’t had a woman cleared to fly one yet. Training is soon to begin at our all-female airfield in Hamble, and in fact they’re making quite a big deal about who might be the first to officially fly one.’
‘Sounds like just the job for me then,’ Lizzie said with a wink, stifling a laugh when May’s face turned to stone. ‘If you’re not earmarking the position for yourself, that is?’
‘We’ll see about that,’ May muttered. ‘But no, it won’t be me. I’m too busy with administration to be in the running, but it’ll be quite the honour for the chosen pilot.’
‘Well, regardless of the aircraft, it must be amazing, flitting around in a warplane all day.’
‘Flitting?’ May asked, now openly scowling. ‘My girls are hardly flitting. With intense flying schedules, multiple planes to deliver daily and weather concerns, my pilots are in life or death situations every time they report for duty. Not to mention that we’re doing this because we’re a nation at war!’
Lizzie held her hands up. ‘Bad choice of words. I was only meaning . . .’
‘You were only meaning what? That my ladies are out there having fun? Because they’re not, Miss Dunlop – they’re out there working hard to make sure we actually have a damn chance of winning this war and bringing our boys home safe.’
Her words were low, snapped almost, and Lizzie knew she’d probably gone too far. But if the English rose couldn’t handle some teasing, then she shouldn’t be running a squadron.
‘So have you lost any pilots yet?’ Lizzie asked, sitting back and crossing her legs at the ankle. ‘In these life and death situations?’
‘No,’ May said, her eyes narrowing. ‘We’ve had some close calls, but our fatality rate is zero and I’m extremely proud of that fact. And trust me, there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t pray to keep it that way.’
Ruby touched May’s arm then, a gesture that took Lizzie by surprise.
‘Tell her,’ Ruby said softly.
Lizzie gazed back at them. ‘Tell me what?’
‘We fly with no instruments and no radios, so when I say that my girls are the best? I mean it. It takes more than good skills to fly that way, Elizabeth, it takes guts and a good dollop of determination.’