Chapter Five

“What do you think of the collage?”

Jane Howell’s second in command, Thelma Aston, took it in hand and stretched it out, the better to admire the handiwork. When Jane first mooted the idea of inviting visiting aircrew to sign a white bedsheet, she hadn’t been sure what the reason was. Only two weeks later, it became clear. As word spread, the mess became a much more inhabited place than before Jane had the brainwave. Thelma shook her head. Such a simple idea, yet from simple ideas as this came such a boost in morale. The war news wasn’t as bad as it had been in 1940 and 1941, yet no one felt the tide had turned, so Thelma had been looking for ways to keep her hard-working girls as cheerful as possible.

“Hasn’t taken long, has it,” she remarked.

From where she was standing, Jane framed the sheet Thelma was holding taut. “There’s still plenty of room,” she decided.

“Plenty of aircrew out there,” Thelma rejoined, jumping a little as she felt a hand unexpectedly land on her shoulder.

“Sorry,” Betty Palmer said, a grin upon her face. “So this is what you get up to whilst I’m on leave! Impressive. Mind if I add mine to your collection?”

Jane held out a pen, which Betty took. With Thelma holding the previously white sheet for her, she took a little time to select her spot, and then, kneeling down on one knee, she signed, stood back up and admired her work.

Thelma let the sheet, which hung from the back wall of the main mess area, go loose and joined Jane and Betty. “This really was a great idea, boss.”

“I must agree,” she told them. Somewhat reluctantly, she tore her gaze away from the collage of signatures and cartoons. “Come on, back to work. We’ve a few pilots still out, and no one’s going home until they’re down. Anyone care for a lift?” she asked with a wicked grin.

Outside the mess was Jane’s pride and joy, an American Jeep her boyfriend, a gentleman by the name of Frank Lowlan, who had been the commanding officer of a Transport command at RAF Keevil, had presented to her. So far, no one had been able to get out of her how he’d been able to give her such a thing without getting into trouble. Loan or gift, she guarded it possessively, even going so far as to have Shirley invent a kind of lock device which fitted through the steering wheel and clipped around the gear lever, so no one could drive it without the key she always kept in her pocket.

Only a five-minute drive from the mess stood the ops hut where they all worked. The road had more than a few pot holes studding it, and Jane had a knack of finding every single one. Or so Betty and Thelma believed. With gritted teeth they clambered out, from the rear in Betty’s case, and both exchanged looks of regret. After the excitement of being driven around by Jane for the first few days she’d had her new toy, the experience of her driving overwhelmed the convenience. Jane was, simply put, a mad woman when behind the wheel.

Stretching her back and kneading her fingers, Thelma groaned and muttered, “When will I bloody well learn.”

Jane slapped her friend lightly on the back. “When you’ve decided you’re fed up with walking!”

Betty joined them on the steps, flexing her own fingers. “You may want to check your Jeep,” she told her. “I think I’ve left indents from gripping too hard this time.”

“Funny,” Jane replied, opening the door and going inside. “I’ll see you later.”

As she disappeared toward her office, Betty muttered loud enough for Thelma to hear, “If I had any spare underwear, I think I’d need to change mine now.”

****

Saturday was a glorious day of freedom, apart from Mary, who was down for a late delivery. As she’d also said when Penny had mentioned the dance to her, “Who’d I dance with?” When both Doris and Penny had offered their other halves for loan, she’d thanked them both profusely but declined politely, claiming she’d be running things too tight, as she wasn’t due back until after six, and Tom was due to pick them up sometime around five. Penny had offered to have Tom put their departure back until she was ready, but she had again politely declined.

“He won’t mind. Honest, Mary, it’ll do you good to get out, have a bit of fun,” Penny told her as they were perched on her bed.

They made a strange sight. Doris sat behind Penny, brushing her hair in readiness for putting it into a plait, whilst behind Doris, Mary was finishing drying off the American’s hair, it being short enough not to need much work and certainly not capable of any elaborate styling. However, as she was fond of saying, constantly making everyone squirm, Walter liked running his fingers through her short hair and nuzzling into her neck.

From where she was observing this strange human-worm, Betty sipped her tea and shook her head. “I don’t know how you two do it,” she mused. “This is the first Saturday you’ve both had off in four weeks, and you’ve spent most of the day trying on every dress in this house and using all the hot water, and now it’s been what”—she took a look at her watch—“an hour you’ve spent here doing hair and getting your makeup right.”

Penny hiked up the stocking she was holding and about to pull on. “I want this to be a good night for Tom,” she started to explain, turning around slightly so she could address Betty directly. “With everything, I want to look my best for him. As we can’t live together”—she picked up a tissue from beside her and dabbed a tear from her eye—“then he deserves to see I make an effort for him.”

Betty took out her own tissue. “Don’t. You’ll have me bawling.”

“Me too,” put in Doris and Mary at the same time.

“Tell you what,” Betty decided, clapping her hands. “It’s half three, and you’ve got to be at the airfield for what, half four?” Doris and Penny nodded. “Why don’t you tell us how you came to get married?”

Before replying, Penny put on her stockings, fastening the clips and flattening her slip. “I suppose I’d better, or you’ll never let me hear the last of it.”

Mary asked before Penny could start, “Are we all right to tell the others about this?”

Penny shrugged. “Go ahead, I’ve nothing to hide. It’s actually quite simple. Tom’s seen too many of his married friends and colleagues die, all of whom made it quite clear how happy they were to be married. Call it superstition, but the way Tom sees it, so long as no one knows about us…”

“But what about all the hugging and kissing yesterday?” Doris pointed out. “I doubt if Stan’s the soul of discretion.”

Penny allowed a small smile to grace her lips as she closed her eyes and savored the memory. “It’s not quite the same thing. So far as anyone he knows is concerned, I’m just his girlfriend. So long as no one knows the whole truth, he thinks it’ll be enough to put any hoo-doo to bed.”

“So he didn’t want anyone else to be there when you got married in case it got back to anyone on his squadron?” Betty reasoned.

“I guess,” Penny agreed.

“One more question, if you don’t mind?” Mary said and, when Penny shrugged her shoulders, asked, “How did you get married so quickly? Don’t you need a license or something?”

“Not to get married at Gretna Green you don’t.”

“Ah,” Betty and Mary replied at the same time.

“What’s Gretna Green?” Doris wanted to know.

Penny faced her friend, mulling things over before deciding upon the shortest way of describing the special location to her. “It’s a little place in Scotland where it’s possible to get married without having to wait for the normal amount of time, nor having to have your banns read.”

“And you’re happy with this?” Doris asked, raising her eyebrows.

Penny didn’t answer straight away, eventually saying, “It’s not ideal, but the important thing is that we’re married. I admit, I miss the white wedding thing, but if Tom’s happy…”

“Well,” Doris said, getting up from the bed and taking the towel from Mary, “if it’s what he wants, who are we to argue?” She lifted her left wrist and waggled it around. Upon it was wound a rubber band. “I don’t fly without this anymore. Human against hill, we’re always going to be on the losing side.”

“Give me a minute,” Mary told them as she hopped off the bed and hared out of the room, returning half a minute later clutching a tiny brown teddy bear. “Meet Rupert. I’ve had him since I was very, very young, and I never go anywhere without him. Before I started flying, I’d always make sure I had a large enough clutch bag to fit him in. Now, he stays in my flight bag so I don’t risk flying without him.” She glanced across at where Penny was looking a little sheepish. Clutching Rupert to her chest, she asked, “Got something to share?”

“Oh, wow, are you going to make fun of me!”

Betty leant forward in her seat, cup of tea going cold and forgotten in her hands. “I’ve a feeling this is going to be good, girls. Come on, Penny, share and share alike.”

“You don’t think I’ve shared enough?” she tried.

Doris, Mary, and Betty looked at one another and then at Penny before saying, as one, “No.”

Penny took a deep breath before shaking her head. “I’m so not going to live this down.”

“I’m even more intrigued now,” Doris broke in, clapping her hands together in excitement.

“Don’t get too excited. It’s more embarrassing than anything,” Penny warned her.

“Stop beating around the bush,” Betty put in. “Tell us.”

“I have to wear, for each flight, my lucky bra.”

For a moment, Penny thought she might get off lightly. She should have been so fortunate, as the next minute, all three of her friends dissolved into peals of laughter, Betty almost dropping her cup she was in such hysterics.

“I think I need the bathroom,” Penny muttered, feeling her ears burning red as she made her way out of her bedroom.

****

“See you later!” Penny said to Betty as she made her way, arm in arm with Doris and Mary, down the riverbank toward RAF Hamble. Neither of them noticed Shirley coming around the corner toward The Old Lockkeepers Cottage.

“Where are they off to?” Shirley asked over the gate Betty was leaning on.

“Mary’s off on a delivery, and the other two are flying over to RAF Polebrook for a dance,” she replied without thinking, or noticing the frown upon the younger woman’s brow.

Wrapping her cardigan around her, Shirley crossed her arms and stalked off back to her lodgings, though not without Betty hearing her mutter, “Would’ve been nice to be asked.”