The Spitfire Girls(92)

Jackson came to stand beside her, tucked his arm around her. ‘You have freed male pilots for other work, but now the situation has changed and your volunteered services are no longer needed,’ he continued for her. ‘My sincerest thanks and Happy Landings, as always.’

They stood side by side in silence as rage built within Lizzie.

‘The bastard!’ she swore. ‘How could he do this to us?’

Jackson let the letter drop to the floor and wrapped her tightly in his arms as she cried into his chest. Lizzie never cried; she never let anyone see her vulnerabilities, but in Jackson’s arms she cried and cried and cried until she couldn’t cry any longer. First over her father, and now this.

‘We can fight this,’ he muttered. ‘You can fight this.’

‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘No, we can’t. It’s over, Jackson.’ She shut her eyes, knowing she needed to pull herself together before she bravely faced her girls. They would all be receiving the letter the following day, and she needed to be there for them, to be strong and reassure them what an incredible role they’d played in this war. Her daddy’s passing had almost crushed her, but she’d refused to give up, returning to base within a week of his death. He’d made it clear to her that his squadron was everything to him, and hers was to her now, too.

‘It’s one thing for men to let women fly, but it’s another thing entirely when they start to think you’re replacing them,’ Jackson said. ‘The idiots can’t even see why we need you so much.’

She placed a hand to his chest, standing on tiptoe to press a kiss to his lips. Jackson’s hands slipped to her waist and he kissed her back, his lips so gentle as he comforted her. He’d been there for her when she’d truly needed him, and it was about time she showed him how much that meant to her.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered, as he gently wiped her tears, his thumb drying her wet cheek.

‘For what?’

‘For being here when I needed someone. For everything.’

She looked over her shoulder at the letter on the floor. They had a few more months before they were discarded like dirty laundry, that’s what he’d said. Those still training could finish up and graduate, but they’d all be home by Christmas. Everything she’d worked so hard for was going to be gone like a puff of smoke, as if it had never existed.

‘Want me to come with you when you announce the news?’ he asked.

Lizzie shook her head. ‘No. I need to do this on my own.’

She’d been the one to tell them all when they’d been accepted into the programme, and she’d be the one to tell them it was over.

Jackson dropped a kiss on to her hair and turned to go. As she watched him, she knew that letting him walk away from her once the programme was disbanded was something she couldn’t bear to think of. She might lose her job, but she had Jackson, and that was worth more than she could have imagined. One step at a time, she told herself. First she’d deal with this, and then she’d make sure she didn’t lose Jackson and the WASPs. She’d had enough loss these past few months to last her a lifetime.





CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

ENGLAND, 1944

MAY

‘I can’t believe it’s been more than a year since we lost her,’ Ben said, as May placed flowers on the grass.

May straightened up. ‘It feels like a lifetime,’ she agreed, reliving the day she’d seen Polly lying there and wishing the memory had faded more. ‘And it was for nothing – we’re still flying blind.’

Ben’s arm slipped around her shoulders. ‘You’ve done everything you can do, May. It’s not your fault if no one will listen.’

She knew that, but it still drove her mad that there was nothing more she could do to keep her girls safe. The only consolation was that things were finally turning in favour of the Allies, which meant that everything they’d done, every sacrifice they’d made, had been worth it.

‘Have you heard from Violet this week?’ she asked, as they headed back to their borrowed car.

‘Yes, actually, I have,’ Ben said. ‘In fact, she wanted to know when I was going to ask you to marry me.’

May’s heart started to race. ‘And what did you say to that?’ she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Ben took both of her hands in his and dropped to one knee, kissing her knuckles as he looked up at her. ‘I said I’d ask you and see what you said.’

May’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. ‘What?’ she whispered.

‘May, when this war is over, will you marry me?’

She dropped to her knees with him and kissed him, her hands planted on his cheeks. ‘Yes!’ she gasped. ‘Yes, Ben, I’ll marry you.’

He took her hand then and held something out, and she smiled when she saw it was a piece of metal welded into a small circle.

‘I promise I’ll give you a proper ring when the war is over,’ he said, pushing it onto her finger. ‘But for now, this is from the damaged engine of a Spitfire. I pulled that engine apart and rebuilt it to keep your pilots safe, so I thought it was the perfect keepsake for you. I made it myself.’

She looked down at her finger. ‘It’s perfect, Ben. Honestly, it is.’

Ben pulled her to her feet and swung her up into his arms, then carried her to the car. She nestled into his neck, nuzzling against him, wondering how on earth a girl so determined not to get close to anyone had somehow ended up head over heels in love.