The Spitfire Girls(95)
‘I present General Arnold to you all. Ladies, thank you.’
The clapping continued, and Lizzie held out her hand to Hap, clasping it and then stepping forward to kiss his cheek. His embrace was full of warmth, and she happily stood back as he addressed her graduates.
‘To all you wonderful women pilots, I would like to say thank you. Not so long ago, I stood and testified before Congress, detailing the most excellent performance record of the WASPs, and every word I spoke was the plain truth,’ he said. ‘It is with great sadness that I come to witness the final graduation ceremony, but it is also a great honour.’ Hap laughed and leaned forward, like he was about to let them in on a secret. ‘Frankly, I didn’t know in 1941 whether a slip of a young girl could fight the controls of a B-17.’ He grinned. ‘Well, now, in 1944, we can only come to one conclusion. The entire operation has been a success. It is on the record that women can fly as well as men. You have worked hard, incredibly hard, and you have buckled down to the monotonous, routine jobs that are not much desired by our hot-shot young men headed toward combat. In some of your jobs, I think the commanders like you better than the men, to be honest.’ He paused. ‘Every WASP has filled a vital and necessary place in the jigsaw pattern of victory.’
Hap clapped his hands together loudly and then gestured to Lizzie, his smile infectious. She had known how much the programme meant to him, but the pride in his words today truly confirmed it. She clapped along with him before taking Hap’s arm and walking from the stage.
‘If I could have made any other decision,’ Hap started, shaking his head as he murmured words for her ears only.
‘Stop,’ Lizzie said, taking his hand and holding tight. ‘You don’t have to explain.’ And she meant it; she’d been so angry when that letter had first arrived, but his hands had been tied. She understood that now. She’d commanded a successful squadron at a time when women had been desperately needed to serve; she’d managed to contribute to the war effort, and make her father proud.
‘Well, at least you don’t have to suffer Captain Montgomery any longer,’ he joked, glancing at Jackson, who was just approaching.
Lizzie groaned. Jackson had one brow raised; he’d clearly overheard. ‘She actually said she had to suffer my presence?’ he demanded.
Hap laughed. ‘There was worse, but I’ll spare you the rest of it, Captain.’
Lizzie’s cheeks were burning. ‘I’m sorry, I . . .’
‘Well, she was pretty damn insufferable herself most of the time,’ Jackson said, before putting an arm around her shoulders. ‘But what I can say is that she eventually grew on me.’
Now it was Hap’s eyebrows shooting skyward. ‘You two? Well, I never would have guessed.’
Lizzie gave Jackson a playful shove, laughing at the apologetic look he gave her. ‘Come on, enough talk about us. We have a party to attend and you’re the guest of honour.’
Jackson proffered his elbow, his grin infectious. What the heck, she thought, accepting it and smiling up at him as they walked towards the empty hangar, where the party was already underway. She’d been a stickler for protocol all this time, but Jackson was part of her life now, and it was about time she came to terms with it. Despite everything that had been taken from her, Jackson had become a pillar of strength, the one and only thing she’d always be able to count on.
She looked nostalgically at the planes lined up on the runway, knowing that, within two weeks, she was going to walk away from them and never see another woman seated at the controls. Would she ever have the opportunity to fly a military plane again?
‘You okay?’ Jackson asked, his voice barely audible.
She leaned her head against his shoulder for a moment. ‘Not really,’ she admitted. ‘But I’ll be fine.’
‘He’d be proud of you, Liz,’ Jackson said.
She imagined her daddy looking down on her, smiling at everything she’d achieved. ‘I know.’
It was over. The WASPs were about to be decommissioned, but no one could take her memories from her. They couldn’t change the fact that she’d been instrumental in putting women pilots in the air, or that she’d flown aircraft that no one would have ever believed a woman was capable of piloting. And that was something that she would hold close to her heart for the rest of her life.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
ENGLAND, 1945
MAY
May stared out at the horizon. It was a curious thing, knowing that she only had days left at White Waltham. Part of her was relieved, after dedicating such a huge part of her life to the ferry programme; another part of her felt like she was grieving the death of a loved one. But orders were orders, and they were no longer needed. When she and Ruby had talked about it, it hadn’t seemed possible; the war ending had seemed more like a fantasy after almost five years of turmoil and tragedy. Now the few of them that were left were based at their original headquarters, so they’d come full circle in a way.
When Ruby appeared, May opened her arms and enveloped her in a big hug. Things were about to change forever, and she didn’t know if their paths would ever cross again, or what her future held. But she did know what might be in her dear friend’s future. And she did know that not one of her pilots was going to be lost to the skies again, that the women still under her command had made it. The relief that she’d lost so few, that they’d been so lucky despite everything, was almost painful.