‘Come with me,’ he ordered.
Lizzie opened her mouth to rebuff him, but quickly closed it. They didn’t have to butt heads all the time – for once she could follow his orders. They started to walk, and Lizzie was soon struggling to keep up. He didn’t even look like he was moving quickly, but his long, determined stride was almost impossible to keep pace with.
‘Where are we going?’ she demanded.
‘Dunlop, who the hell ever had the patience to be your flying instructor?’ he asked.
She stopped walking and gaped at him. ‘Excuse me?’
‘You heard me.’
‘I could say the same to you,’ she shot back. ‘Who on earth could put up with your arrogance and single-minded bloody . . .’
‘Bloody?’ he chuckled. ‘I think you spent too much time with the Brits.’
‘Ugh!’ She threw her hands up in the air.
‘Come on, sweetheart,’ he said. ‘I was only wanting to offer you a drink.’
Sweetheart? How dare he! ‘I’m not your sweetheart,’ she snapped. ‘Some respect would be appreciated, and I’d actually have liked to stay on the right foot instead of landing on the wrong one all over again!’
He was smiling. The idiot was smiling at her like he found all this funny!
‘I’ve two minds not to have a drink with you at all,’ she fumed.
‘Fine, but I thought it was about time we cleared the air between us,’ he said. ‘Now you can either huff off back to your quarters, or we can sit down and open a bottle of good whiskey.’ He held out a hand to his office door. ‘It’s up to you, but I know I could use one, and I think you could, too.’
Reluctantly, Lizzie entered his office and looked around. She’d been in there many times, but usually she was storming in to demand answers about something. Today she was here as his guest, and it felt different somehow; or perhaps she’d finally glimpsed the real him.
‘Tell me,’ he said, pouring dark brown liquor into two short glasses. ‘Did the army provide those wings you pinned on today?’
She laughed and arched an eyebrow. ‘What do you think?’
‘I think it’s about time the army stepped up. There’s no good reason for you to be buying silver wings for those women.’
She raised a brow at him. ‘You think they shouldn’t have wings, then?’
He passed her a glass, holding on to it even though her fingers had curled around it already. ‘Don’t twist my words. Those women will be flying aircraft for the military, and they damn well deserve their wings and every accolade they get. I just don’t think your pocket should be the one in debt.’
Lizzie knew she’d picked an argument over nothing, but she was so used to constant arguments flaring up for no good reason. ‘I’m sorry.’
He smiled at her over his glass. ‘I’m not sure I heard you correctly?’
Lizzie took a slow sip of whiskey, trying desperately not to splutter. It was like liquid fire sluicing down her throat, and a cough burst from her.
‘Actually, your pain is enough – I won’t force you to repeat it,’ he said.
So she hadn’t fooled him, then. ‘I’m not exactly an experienced drinker of straight liquor, Captain Montgomery. I prefer cocktails and champagne.’
He looked amused as he sat and stretched out his long legs. ‘You do know you can call me Jackson, don’t you? Or Jack – whatever comes easiest.’
Lizzie had been so caught up in trying to prove him wrong and push his buttons, but now she couldn’t help studying him, wondering if perhaps she had never taken the time to see the real him. His blond hair was short at the sides and slightly longer on top, and his skin reflected the hours he spent outside, and his hands . . . She sighed. His hands were big and calloused, like those of a man used to real work. She averted her gaze and attempted another tiny sip of whisky. Those hands were strong and capable, and certainly didn’t look like they should be pushing papers in an office.
‘Jackson, then,’ she said.
‘Well, now that’s sorted, why don’t we have dinner and do some work on staying on the right foot, so to speak?’
She struggled not to choke on her drink again, more from being flustered this time. ‘And how many of my pilots have you asked for dinner already?’ she asked. ‘It’s an instant dismissal for dating an instructor!’
Jackson held up his glass and drained it, then made eye contact again. ‘First of all, I’m not your instructor, or theirs, and I haven’t asked anyone else for dinner,’ he said. ‘Christ, what is it with you, being so defensive all the time?’
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 conn
ecting 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.’
She nodded. ‘And you did exactly that.’
His smile was almost crooked this time as he gave her a quick sideways look. ‘Can we agree that I’m on your side, then?’
She smiled back, feeling a welcome shudder of warmth. ‘Yes.’
‘And can we please agree that we’re off the clock now, and we won’t talk work again?’
‘Is that champagne back there for us?’ she asked, feeling lighter, more relaxed than she had in a very long time.
‘Absolutely.’
‘Then absolutely yes, we can be off the clock. It’s about time I had a night off and forgot about everything.’
Lizzie turned slightly, facing Jackson now, studying his profile and wondering what he was really like beneath that uniform. Glimpsing this softer side of him had thrown everything she’d previously thought about him off balance. And he was right: she’d made him out to be the villain when really he was just an exceptional captain who tolerated nothing less than excellence and expected those under his leadership to follow his orders to the letter. After all, wasn’t that what she’d wanted for her pilots?
‘What are you thinking?’ he asked.
‘I’m wondering where you’re taking me,’ she replied, not about to admit that she’d been admiring his smooth jaw and perfect cheekbones, and the way his broad shoulders took up the entire seat. ‘And I’m so pleased that I decided to come home.’
‘Well, you don’t have to wait to find out. We’re here.’
She looked around as the car slowed and they bumped along off-road. She wasn’t sure where they were, but the beautiful lake that glistened in the near distance gave her some clues.
‘Is this where the girls come when they’re off duty? I’ve heard about a swimming hole,’ she said.
‘It certainly is.’
He stopped the car and jumped out, opening her door for her. Lizzie inhaled the fresh, earthy air and let out a sigh. It was perfect. She’d been working what seemed like a hundred hours a week, falling into bed each night and always waking somehow more tired than she’d been the day before.
‘This is magical,’ she said, honestly.
‘Neither of us gets a lot of time off, so I figured we’d be better spending an evening here than sitting in a restaurant.’
He couldn’t have been more right. ‘It’s lovely.’
She waited for Jackson to gather their things, offering to take the wine and glasses for him while he carried everything else. She followed as he found a nice spot near the lake and spread out the blankets.
‘Take a seat,’ he said, gesturing and waiting for her to sit before joining her on the rug.
‘I thought this would be, I don’t know, more of a work dinner,’ Lizzie admitted, not sure exactly what was going on. Were they on a date, or was this simply a friendly dinner between colleagues?
Jackson shrugged. ‘Champagne?’ he asked, holding up the bottle, then popping the cork.
Lizzie wrapped herself in one of the blankets, then sat back and watched as he poured a glass, the bubbles extending all the way to the top and then slowly settling back down. She hadn’t sipped champagne since . . . She smiled as she remembered that night in London, when he’d not poured her a glass. How times had changed.
‘To good friends,’ she said, taking the glass and inhaling the sweet smell. ‘Lost but not forgotten.’
‘To good friends,’ Jackson repeated, holding up his glass and gently clinking it to hers. They sat in silence for a moment, and Lizzie shut her eyes, imagining Polly looking down on them.
‘Tell me about yourself,’ Lizzie said, suddenly wanting to know everything about him. ‘How did you end up as a captain?’
‘Well, I’d say we have similar stories there,’ he said. ‘I listened to so many tales of my old man flying up a storm during the war that when the opportunity came up to volunteer, I was one of the first to hit the sky.’
Lizzie grinned. ‘Sounds familiar.’
He nodded. ‘But I haven’t brought you here to talk about me.’
‘Why, are you secretly married and don’t want me to know about your wife?’
He cleared his throat. ‘I did have a wife. Well, a fiancée that I was about to marry, actually,’ he said. ‘She was killed aboard the USS Solace when Pearl Harbor was bombed.’
Lizzie’s heart hit the ground. Why had she said that? ‘I’m so sorry, I didn’t, I was . . .’
‘It’s fine. It’s taken me a long time to be able to talk about it, but we’re all starting to lose someone to this war now, aren’t we?’
‘What was she like?’ Lizzie asked, tucking her legs up beneath herself and sipping her champagne, which was making her feel warm and happy inside.
‘Maria was wonderful,’ he said, smiling. ‘She was charming and intelligent, and she loved helping others. But she was also determined and pig-headed, so we had some huge arguments about all sorts of things at times.’
‘She doesn’t sound so different to me then,’ Lizzie joked. ‘Well, the pig-headed part. I think it’s the only way I ended up in this role.’
‘I was stationed at Pearl Harbor, too. I was there on that day and I saw her body, and since then I feel like I’ve been ignoring what happened and putting everything into my work instead. I found out I was good at what I did, and it stopped me from having time for anything else, including thinking about her.’ He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. ‘I understand what it’s like to lose someone, Lizzie.’
She held out her glass for a refill, not ready to say anything yet. His eyes shone as he stared into the distance, but she watched him instead of following his gaze. There was a lovely, very real man beneath his uniform, and she couldn’t believe it had taken her so long to realise it. He pulled a blanket around his shoulders as she watched him.
‘Thank you, for telling me about her,’ she said, shuffling a little closer to him.
‘I wanted you to know. It’s nice to keep her memory alive.’ He reached into the paper bag and pulled out food and plates. ‘Now, tell me about you, Lizzie. What makes Elizabeth Dunlop tick?’
She could sen
se he didn’t want to talk about Maria anymore, so she took over, filling in the void as he dished up the food. ‘Well, in the beginning, my mother was horrified with me when I first announced my ambitions, but my father always indulged me. I think I was the only girl with a father telling her she could do anything and be anything she wanted to be.’
‘He sounds like a good man.’ He laughed. ‘Although I’ve heard plenty about what a great man he was from my father, so it doesn’t exactly surprise me.’
She smiled as she pictured him, seated beside her in her little plane. ‘Yeah, he is.’ She paused as Jackson watched her, wondering what about him made her feel so vulnerable. She was usually the forward one with men, the one who was first to joke and flirt and have fun. She set down her food and rose to her knees. She was either about to make a horrible mistake, or the best decision of her life.
‘Kiss me,’ she said, bending towards him.
Jackson’s hand lifted and caught the back of her head, drawing her in as her mouth gently brushed his. She slowly moved her lips, drinking in the taste of him, loving the feel of his skin, of their mouths meeting.
When she pulled back, he ran his hand gently down her back.
‘I thought you didn’t like me,’ he whispered.
‘That’s what I thought too,’ she replied. ‘Maybe I won’t like you again tomorrow, but I very much like you right now.’
They both laughed and went back to eating their food, occasionally making eye contact and sitting in companionable silence.
Then Jackson stood. ‘Come with me,’ he said, and led her by the hand to the water’s edge. They stood and stared at the water, and Jackson slowly moved around behind her, encircling her in his arms. She leaned back against him, not entirely sure what they were doing but not caring. It felt nice, being in his big, strong arms, imagining what it would feel like to spin in his embrace and kiss him again.
‘The others come here all the time on Sundays,’ he said, his voice low as he spoke into her ear. ‘When the weather was warmer they swam and sunbathed, but I think they just enjoy walking or having a picnic on sunny days.’
The Spitfire Girls Page 25