The Spitfire Girls(52)

‘Well, maybe you should have asked for that proper bloody welcome first,’ he said.

He caught her around the waist, his mouth finding hers, and she kissed him back. It had been a year and three months since she’d seen the man she was supposed to marry, and if that wasn’t an excuse for a public display of affection, then she wasn’t sure what was. Whistles echoed out behind them, but she didn’t care – this was her man, and she’d just flown a giant plane and landed it like she’d been doing it all her life. She pulled back to look at him, his face between her palms now, before kissing him all over again.

‘I can’t believe my girl landed this beast,’ he whispered in her ear, holding her tight.

‘Well, believe it,’ she whispered back.

‘I suppose I’ll have to,’ he said with a laugh. ‘Actually, half the men in my squadron cut out your photo in the Picture Post and have it beside their beds! I’m reminded on a daily basis that not only are you beautiful, but you might actually be a better pilot than me now!’

She giggled, cheeks warm as she tucked tight against him, not caring about being reprimanded or what anyone might think. Besides, he was the one in the RAF, not her, and she doubted the ATA were going to care about a woman embracing her fiancé after delivering a much-needed plane.

‘I am proud of you,’ he murmured, lips to her hair. ‘I didn’t like it in the beginning. Heck, I didn’t even like it last week, but seeing you fly in here today . . .’

She looked up at him. ‘I knew if you saw me it’d help to change your mind,’ she said smugly.

‘It’s made me realise how talented you are. I was just worried about you, and I was having to deal with letters from my mother every other week . . .’

Ruby groaned. ‘Please can we not talk about your mother?’

He grinned. ‘Roger that. And I’m sorry, I should never have gone along with her giving you a timeframe to return home.’

They joined the other pilots walking back to the base. ‘We didn’t think you’d be coming, what with the visibility the way it’s been,’ one commented.

‘It was touch and go, but the decision was mine,’ Ruby told him boldly.

‘What do you mean, yours?’ Tom asked.

She felt her pride swell as he looked at her curiously. ‘It’s different for us. We’re charged with deciding whether to go up in fog, rain or even snow. It depends how badly someone needs the plane we’re delivering. Flying without instruments and radio is difficult at the best of times, and when the weather is touchy . . .’

‘Without instruments or radio?’ Tom interrupted, eyebrows knitted. ‘That’s actually true? We thought it was a joke.’

‘It’s just the way it is for us,’ she said, trying to make light of something that put the fear of God into her every time she flew. ‘Now, where will my debrief be? And is there any chance of a hot cup of tea and some sandwiches?’

Tom pointed ahead to a nondescript building and gave her a quick salute. ‘Yes ma’am,’ he teased, bending to give her a quick kiss. ‘The captain awaits you over there.’ He saluted again before breaking into a jog and heading towards another building nearby.

‘How are you getting back?’ another pilot asked, holding out a cigarette to her. She shook her head and he lit it for himself instead.

‘Ah, I believe there is a Hurricane that I need to limp home in,’ she replied. ‘The flights away from base are always good ones, and the ones back usually involve planes that have seen better days.’

‘Well, I’d put those plans on hold,’ he said as he puffed. ‘The weather’s getting worse, and no matter who’s making the decisions, you’d have to have a death wish to head back out with the wind and rain coming up like that.’

Ruby looked up and saw the clouds closing in; a big plop of rain landed on her nose. Being stuck here wasn’t exactly the worst thing that could happen to her, given that she’d found Tom.

She entered the building and saw the captain waiting for her. ‘I hope you’ve got quarters for women,’ she told him by way of greeting, ‘because it looks like you’re stuck with me for the night.’

He stood and held out a hand, beaming. She shook it and stood back, liking the older man with the big bushy moustache immediately.

‘First Officer Sanders, I’ve heard an awful lot about you.’

‘I hope only good things, Captain,’ she replied.

‘My dear, do you have time to talk to some of my men while you’re here?’ he said, pouring himself a nip of whisky and holding up a glass to her. Ruby shook her head. What she needed more than anything right now was a toilet, not more liquid. ‘Those idiots out there keep telling me what bastards Halifax aircrafts are to land, but you just showed a textbook perfect touchdown without seeming to break a sweat. Bravo.’

She bit down on the inside of her mouth, trying not to smile at his praise.

‘I don’t mean to offend, but you’re hardly larger than a child, my dear. Clearly it’s not a matter of brute strength, but skill, wouldn’t you say?’

‘Yes, sir,’ she agreed. ‘They’re not exactly Spitfires, but with half a brain and a dollop of good old determination, I’d say there’s nothing to it.’