The Spitfire Girls(86)

‘Thank you, Lord, for the food in front of us. Thank you for bringing us together, and for the time to rest. And most of all, thank you for those we love.’

As Ben slowly released his grip, May caught his eye, keeping hold for a second longer.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered, blinking away tears. She’d needed this more than she could ever have realised.

‘Benny, are you in love with her?’ Violet blurted. ‘She’s so pretty and you’re looking at her all funny.’

‘That’s enough, young lady!’ his mother scolded.

May looked around at Violet giggling at her brother, at Ben’s mother reprimanding her daughter, at his father eating his food, and smiled. She only wished Ben’s other sisters had been there so she could have met them.

‘You’d be a brilliant pilot when you grow up, you know,’ May said, nudging Violet and receiving an excited grin in return. ‘We need plucky girls like you who aren’t afraid to stand up to big boys like Ben.’

Violet stuck her little chest out. ‘When can I start flying then?’

That made them all laugh, but Ben’s mother wagged her finger. ‘Not until you’ve finished your dinner, young lady!’

It wasn’t until later that night, after helping his mother clean up and standing side by side washing dishes with her in the kitchen, that May had any time alone with Ben. She was sitting on the end of her bed when he came in, just as the dark thoughts were starting to creep back into her head, as she wondered how she’d sleep without falling into the nightmares that plagued her every single time she shut her eyes.

‘Afraid of going to sleep?’ he asked.

She nodded, and he reached down to hold the covers back, gesturing for her to climb under. Ben tucked her up and then lay behind her, on top of the covers, his big body warm against her as he spooned her.

‘You can’t stay in here. What if you mother sees? Or Violet?’ she whispered.

Ben held her even tighter. ‘The door’s open, we have nothing to hide. There’s nothing wrong with me holding you like this, May, nothing at all.’

‘Your family is so lovely,’ she said, her voice cracking.

Ben was silent, his breath warm against the back of her neck.

‘Ben, being here tonight, seeing your parents, I . . .’ Her voice was no more than a whisper now. ‘I need you to take me home.’

He kissed her hair. ‘I thought you were never going to ask.’



The next day, May waved goodbye to Violet from the car, grinning at the little girl jumping up and down on the veranda.

‘She’s going to hate me for taking you away so quickly,’ she said.

‘Hate you? She’s already told me that she wants to be just like you when she grows up.’

May laughed, the darkness that had plagued her for so long making way for something warmer and lighter.

‘When we get there, I want you to just go,’ she told him. ‘Come back to Violet and your family and leave me.’

‘You’re certain?’

She nodded. ‘This is something I need to do alone.’ All this time, pushing away her feelings, ignoring her mother and trying to stay in her own cocoon and protect herself from hurt and love, meant it was something she needed to find her own way through. All the same, without Ben’s strength, she’d have been lost. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. ‘Thank you.’

They travelled in silence for the hour-long drive. When they pulled up outside, her house looked the same but different; and as she stepped out and stared at their wooden house and the little garden out front, a flutter of snow touched her cheek.

She turned to see Ben standing behind her and she opened her arms, standing on tiptoe to kiss him.

‘Go home before the snow settles,’ she said. ‘I’ll see you back at base in a few days’ time.’

Ben held her and kissed her one more time before finally letting her go. May turned to face the house, taking a deep breath and starting to walk, then run.

‘Mama!’ she called, as she pushed the front door open. ‘Mama!’ she sobbed, suddenly needing her mother like she hadn’t since she was a child. ‘Mama!’

‘May?’ came a voice, and her mother appeared in the hallway, a tea towel in her hand as she stood, open mouthed, staring at her daughter.

‘Mama!’ May ran, colliding with her, wrapping her arms around her mother. The smell of her perfume, the food that had been cooked already, the fire crackling . . . She was home. She was finally home.

‘Gerald!’ her mother yelled. ‘Gerald, our May is home!’

May stood back and held her mother’s hand, gazing at her face, seeing the lines etched into her skin; the years since the war had started had aged her more than she could have imagined.

Her father appeared, his glasses perched on his nose. He opened his arms and May buried herself in his chest, crying as she held him, wishing she could stay hidden against him forever.

‘I’m sorry,’ she cried. ‘I’m so sorry I never came home, that I never wrote, I . . .’

‘You’re home now,’ her mother said. ‘That’s all that matters. Now let me get you something to eat. How did you get here?’

‘Ben,’ she said, squeezing her mother’s hand. ‘My Ben brought me home.’