The Spitfire Girls(82)

She didn’t have an answer to that.

‘It’s because you’re used to being the one calling all the shots, personally and professionally,’ he muttered. ‘Honestly, you’re hard to please, Dunlop.’ She smirked. So she was back to being Dunlop already. ‘It’s only a date if you want it to be a date. Otherwise it’s dinner between two colleagues, nothing more, nothing less,’ he said firmly. ‘Does everything with you have to be so hard?’

Lizzie hated the way she was behaving, but she just couldn’t seem to help herself. ‘Fine. Dinner it is.’

‘Tonight?’ he asked.

She shrugged as if it were no big deal. ‘Sure, why not? It’d be nice to celebrate graduation day.’

Jackson stared at her and then shook his head, chuckling. ‘Shall I pick you up from the Avengerette Club?’

Lizzie braved his gaze. ‘Yes.’

The Club was a special place for all her girls. It was a room above a fabric store that they’d been given by the town of Sweetwater, and all the girls loved going there. The WASPs could play records, chat and dance; there was little else to do.

‘Oh, and Lizzie?’ he said, his eyes softening. ‘I am truly sorry about Polly. She was a great girl and it’s not fair what happened to her.’

‘Thanks,’ she said, holding back tears. ‘She was.’

‘Until tonight then,’ he said, holding up his glass. ‘To Polly.’

Lizzie gulped. ‘To Polly,’ she agreed, feeling guilty all of a sudden for flirting and joking around when her friend wasn’t even with them any longer. ‘She died bravely in the air, and she’ll be missed.’



‘Wow.’

Lizzie had decided to wait outside for Jackson, not wanting to make a fuss about their dinner. She could have told the girls it was work-related, but given the fact she’d put on a dress and heels, not to mention done her hair and applied more make-up than they’d probably ever seen her wear, she knew she wouldn’t be fooling anyone.

Jackson was dressed in his uniform and looking as handsome as ever, and she smiled when he opened the car door for her.

‘Where are we heading?’ she asked, as he slipped back into the driver’s seat.

‘Not where you’re expecting.’

She frowned and sat quietly, desperate to ask questions but knowing it would only amuse him.

‘Lizzie, before we have dinner, I want to ask you how you’re holding up? I know you were close to Polly, and I wasn’t sure if you had anyone to talk to about it.’

Lizzie shook her head at the mention of Polly’s name. ‘Some days are better than others, but I know she’d be furious with me if I gave up now and collapsed into a heap.’

Jackson touched her hand. ‘You ask for my help if you need to, okay?’

She nodded. ‘Thanks.’

‘I also wanted to say something about what we discussed earlier. About starting over,’ he said. ‘I want you to know that I’m not the bad guy here, and I never have been. You painted me as the villain from the start, when all I was interested in doing was offering your pilots the highest level of military training. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.’

Lizzie smiled. ‘Seems like it’s a night for opening up to each other, huh?’ She settled back into her seat as he drove, still wondering where they were going. When they pulled in, it seemed they were at the back of a restaurant, not the front.

He touched her hand, their skin connecting for the briefest of moments, before getting out and then ducking his head back in.

‘Sit tight. I won’t be a moment.’

Lizzie sat, curiously waiting for him to return. When he came back, he was carrying large paper bags, and she tried to see what was in them as he placed them on the back seat. There was a bottle of champagne, two glasses, and some blankets . . . She spun back around as he got back into the driving seat. Were they going on a picnic?

‘Aren’t we dining here?’ she asked.

‘No.’ He gave her a wink. ‘I’m friends with the chef, and he made us up some food. I thought it would be nicer to breathe in some fresh air and enjoy the outdoors.’

Lizzie burst out laughing and stared at him. He couldn’t have surprised her more if he’d tried!

‘Why are you being so nice to me?’ she asked. ‘Is this because of Polly?’

His smile was hard to read, his eyes leaving the road for a moment to meet hers. ‘Lizzie, I’ve always been on your side. How can you not have seen that?’

She sat deeper back into her seat and looked out the window. Had she been the one pushing him away and making him into the villain? Was she the hostile one?

‘I was only ever doing my job,’ he said. ‘It always amazed me that you were so prickly about it.’

‘But you were so, so . . .’ She trailed off.

‘So hard on your recruits? So demanding?’

‘Well, yes,’ she replied.

‘Would you have wanted me to treat them like ladies instead of pilots? Did you want me to reinforce the gender stereotype that they couldn’t cope with being treated like any other recruit?’ It was him laughing now. ‘I thought you wanted women who could hold their heads high and know they were every bit as well trained and capable as their male counterparts? I wanted to prepare them for the worst, to instil them with a sense of honour and commitment.’