Spitfire Girls

by Carol Gould

  ‘You may all be leaving me soon, and please––’ she raised a hand to stop a startled Sean from speaking, ‘don’t argue with me. I remember in the last war, when one or two little announcements were made, and we were told our lives would not change, but in the passing of a day whole villages were being emptied of their men. Only in war does this happen. You are all naive and I want you to believe me.’

  ‘We are going nowhere,’ Delia asserted, her makeshift ATA uniform blowing in a warm breeze that cut across the porch and sent leaves scattering among their booted feet.

  ‘Of course we aren’t,’ Amy added. ‘Hatfield is our base, and I much prefer rural Hertfordshire to Southampton.’

  ‘Let’s go in,’ Hamilton murmured, putting his hand on Amy’s shoulder for all to see. ‘When is Jim due back from White Waltham?’ he asked quietly, as the rest of the group entered the spacious hotel bar.

  ‘I’ve not enquired,’ she said, sitting on a corner stool with her back to the rest of the group. ‘Ham, when I fly that Courier tomorrow, I want you to come with us.’

  ‘Impossible!’ he snorted, loudly enough for heads to turn.

  ‘Why?’ Her sad eyes pleaded.

  ‘This Valerie business – Sean and I are working on it full-time, and the press will be on our doorstep in the morning.’

  ‘What press?’ A voice pierced their concentration, and Hamilton and Amy whirled around to find Angelique at the next table.

  ‘Press about Valerie,’ Hamilton replied, biting his lip.

  ‘How are your two Yanks, Angelique?’ Amy asked, smiling generously.

  ‘I’ve just come from seeing them in hospital,’ she replied, her expression glum. ‘They’ll be back to flying soon.’

  Angelique surveyed the room impatiently, as if one of her American aces might walk in at any moment, unhindered by injury. She took a deep breath, wishing Valerie were there with her endless supply of cigarettes. Amy and Hamilton looked down into their glasses, pondering the calming liquid.

  Angelique was speaking:

  ‘When we go to Bristol, Amy, I am not coming back with the rest.’ She made her announcement with such matter-of-factness that Amy wondered if the world had gone mad.

  ‘Have you had clearance from Valerie on this?’ Hamilton asked.

  ‘Yes – she cleared it last week before she went into hiding.’

  ‘Do you believe she is in hiding?’ Amy asked, fascinated.

  ‘Lord, yes!’ Angelique replied, downing a large gulp of beer. ‘It has something to do with intelligence, and some photographs, but that’s all I can say.’

  Hamilton mused at this girl. How could she think for one moment that he was not privy to the most sensitive information coming in from the Ministry? It made him laugh, and he slammed his glass on the table.

  ‘Why are you laughing?’ Angelique asked, always feeling uncomfortable and out of place in the presence of Mrs Mollison.

  ‘No reason,’ he replied, his face set once more.

  ‘I’m worried about your not coming back with us,’ Amy continued.

  ‘Again, Amy, all I can say is that it has something to do with Intelligence. There will be no ferry chit.’

  Amy knew that masses of new aircraft would be requiring transport as soon as her Courier-load of girls had passed the new test, and she also knew exact numbers and allocations, her squadron being due to fly back in formation when their new fighter aircraft had been rolled off the assembly line. Angelique could be strong-willed, but Amy had a feeling of horror about the plan she was concocting; as she sipped her pale ale she resolved to use her influence to establish the whereabouts of Valerie Cobb.

  Amy’s world was continuing to disintegrate around her, and as she watched Mrs Bennell scowling in the opposite corner over a well-worn newspaper, she wished she had stayed in Australia so many years ago and become a happy bride to the splendid Mr Vickers. Pale ale went to Amy’s head and made it ache on every occasion it met her stomach, and while Hamilton and Angelique sat in awkward silence, the Battle of Britain began its agonizing birth within earshot of the Stone House Hotel, a rumbling making all the drinkers smile and then, for the first time, think seriously of death.

  45

  Several days had passed, Kay Pelham and Lili Villiers having had to spend considerable portions of their travel money on extra nights in lodgings. Edith Allam had been delayed on her flight to Australia, despite rumours that the Beaverbrook empire had laid on a large passenger aircraft – the most advanced available – which the American girl would be flying from her home town of Philadelphia.

  ‘They say Philadelphia is just like Townsville,’ Kay announced, bright day pouring in through the window of the room they were sharing on the outskirts of Brisbane. She lounged on the small bed, her splendid shape exuding a seductive air.

  ‘How would you know?’ Lili asked, grinning.

  ‘I know a lot about the world,’ Kay replied, noticing Lili’s neatly arranged make-up kit and her compact figure. This was the longest respite Kay had had from the amorous demands of her latest partner, and she felt refreshed and lightheaded. Forcing herself to ignore the pulsating libido that was trying to distract the attractive actress from present business – the prospect of a career in aviation – she contemplated Edith Allam’s arrival: would the American be like the Yanks who had come backstage to pester her every night during the short run of Pygmalion in a tiny Townsville theatre house?

  Perhaps Edith would be glamorous, wanting only ugly girls to travel with her to England, so as not to outshine her.

  Kay looked again at Lili, who dozed on the battered chair in their room, the hot sun beating down and raising a musty smell from its cheap, ancient cushions. She was one of the most attractive people Kay had ever met, male or female, and she wondered if it was the staggering wealth of the Villiers name that gave her such allure. Some people had said that she, Kay Pelham, had a stunning aura that drew both men and women to her and made them become obsessed, and one thing she knew was that she was terrified of being seduced by another girl, or even worse, by an older female. She could never imagine life without the love of a man, and she hoped Edith might be quick in her assessment of the lady pilots so Kay Pelham could get back to doing what she craved most.

  ‘My Dad had an affair with Amy Johnson,’ Lili recounted, her head leaning against the back of the old chair.

  ‘Is that a big secret?’ Kay asked, her mind conjuring up instant visions of a handsome man and a lithe female in wild contortions of passion on a hot coastal shoal.

  ‘It got around,’ she replied, raising her neck and grimacing, its stiffness making a small cracking noise in the blissfully quiet room.

  ‘What did your mom say?’

  ‘She walloped him, when he came back to her.’ Lili grinned at Kay, whose eyes were widening at each piece of news.

  ‘How did she find out?’ Kay was leaning forward, hanging on to every word and letting Lili’s pleasant fragrance hover around her head.

  ‘You must be joking – news travels like wildfire in Queensland, and of all people, Amy Johnson … do me a favour.’

  ‘How come I never heard about it?’

  ‘You probably couldn’t read yet – that was in 1930.’

  ‘Ten years ago,’ Kay mused, sitting back on the bad. ‘My first fellah made me want to die in 1930.’

  Lili sat up, her face flushed. ‘Kay! You’ve been with men?’

  ‘Holy shit, girl, of course I have.’ Kay’s eyebrows arched and she frowned, wishing Edith Allam would arrive at this precise second and redeem her.

  ‘Where do you do it?’ Lili asked, watching Kay carefully, like a child peering down at the lion’s den in a zoo.

  ‘Around town. Different places.’

  ‘You’re a whore.’

  ‘Don’t say that, Lil.’ Kay had turned pale, and as the sun disappeared behind a rare cloud their room darkened, turning cool in the shadowy dimness. ‘There’s a big war on, now, so let’s forget who’s immoral and
who’s moral, if you don’t mind.’

  Lili walked to the door and opened it, the silent corridor brightening suddenly as the sun emerged again, and Kay jumped off the bed, moving towards the other girl and touching her arm. Lili pulled away in a fear that communicated itself to Kay as disgust, prompting her to run down the stairs of the rooming house and find in Brisbane what had eluded her for so many agonizing days. Lili would spend that night alone, lying awake for hours and thinking about Kay, tormenting herself about morality and about the misery of her own fantasies.

  *

  When more days had passed and the girls had run out of funds, Lili telegraphed her father and instant cash appeared in the hands of an effusive bank manager in central Brisbane. Kay had decided they should give Edith Allam another day’s grace but in the meantime have an extravagant meal and a late night out on the town. During their long wait for Edith and her entourage, the two Australian pilots had languished in the city, drinking too much and eating too little but keeping to an otherwise harmless routine ending in early bedtimes – with the exception of Kay’s only sojourn on their first evening in Brisbane.

  Her night out alone had been a disaster, the partner she had found a droll little man who had undressed and taken her with great tenderness, his hesitant, careful touch interspersed with words that made Kay laugh. Soon, however, she had become bored, yearning for the businessman with whom she had fornicated before her journey, and whose humourless fucking had been punctuated by barked demands for acts which the law would have regarded as grossly indecent. On this first night in Brisbane she had left Lili alone to think innocent thoughts of aeroplanes and England, but now Kay was dizzy with boredom.

  Still, it was she who had had the hunger that had driven her to this man’s cheerfully tidy town flat that seemed a haven custom-made for the commonplace. She had been surprised when he murmured, ‘You reminded me of a boy, and that’s what I wanted – sometimes I do so love having boys,’ holding her face so tightly she thought he would crush her skull. After a while Kay had more pain, and as the night wore on he began inflicting perversions she had not known existed, and for which he would afterwards apologize, always kissing her tenderly. At daybreak he coaxed her into submitting to a final humiliation …

  Dining in Brisbane’s most expensive restaurant, Kay and Lili were looking ravishing twelve hours after the former’s all-night adventure.

  ‘He could have murdered you!’ gasped Lili, wide-eyed as Kay described the culminating episode.

  ‘I’ve never been so disappointed in my life,’ Kay said, waiting for the white-gloved boy to finish pouring wine into elegant glasses.

  ‘Why do you do it, Kay?’ Lili asked, smiling at the thin, handsome waiter as he departed silently.

  ‘It’s not what I do, mate. It’s what they do. Some girls pick them, as they say. As it turns out, he really wanted a bloke, not a sheila. And as men go, he was awfully sweet.’

  Lili scrutinized her new friend’s face, the flawless skin and deep-set, intelligent eyes setting off a restless energy that transmitted itself to admirers as a kind of sexual want.

  ‘How could this guy get any pleasure from you if he likes playing with little boys?’ demanded Lili.

  At the next table a pair of young men cast a flickering glance at them.

  ‘Keep your voice down, for Christ’s sake,’ Kay said, giggling. ‘That wasn’t the end of it – he was making the most pathetic noises, and I think he did me permanent damage. As I say, he was a real sweetie, but God, it hurt.’

  ‘Did he pay you?’ asked Lili.

  ‘What is this, the police station?’ snapped Kay.

  ‘I’m just concerned, that’s all – when we get back to the room you should let me look at your wounds,’ Lili murmured. ‘They might get infected.’

  ‘You’re a nurse, then, as well as a millionaire’s daughter?’ asked Kay, still uneasy.

  ‘I’m a pilot, actually,’ Lili responded. ‘Let’s not forget why we are here. By now our families must be dead worried about us, you know.’

  ‘That’s unlikely,’ Kay remarked. ‘If you say your father works with mine, they’ve probably figured out between them our real reason for coming to town. By the time they get into a blind panic Edith will be here and we’ll either end up being sent back home or off to Pommyland.’ Kay was feeling ill, and the food on her plate had become cold and unappetizing.

  ‘What did your queer gentleman look like?’ asked Lili.

  ‘Youngish, a bit lame, bless his heart, and sort of overweight. At least he was clean and affectionate – you’d have liked him.’

  ‘Thank you very much! Kindly credit me with some intelligence.’ Lili gulped at her wine. ‘You ought to report him to the police,’ she continued in a whisper, leaning across the table. Suddenly she was aware of the physicality of Kay’s allure, dwelling momentarily on the perfectly shaped breasts that seemed to peer at her from behind the provocatively revealing blouse. Lili tried to imagine this woman amid the awkward embraces of the night before, her clean scent and delicate skin incongruous against a panorama of sexual perversion.

  ‘Let me explain something to you,’ Kay said, the girls’ faces now an inch apart. ‘This fellah did give me money – lots of it – and he’d classify me as a whore if he met me on the street again tomorrow.’

  ‘Couldn’t he expose you as a prostitute if you become famous?’ asked Lili, at once fascinated and horrified.

  ‘By the time I’m famous I’ll be in England and I’ll be doing Shakespeare. Who the hell is he, anyway? He’s just nobody, baby.’

  Later that evening, after the largest meal Lili had eaten since the grand summer ball at Villiers Industries, the two girls went to their room to recover from the feast.

  ‘Let me see your bruises, then,’ Lili said quietly.

  There was no response from Kay.

  ‘Are you asleep?’

  ‘If I am asleep, why ask?’ croaked Kay, turning on to her stomach.

  Lili moved to her bed and gently pulled down the loose-fitting blouse to reveal a muscular back with shoulders powerful as a man’s. Gently probing Kay’s tense neck muscles with her inexperienced fingers, Lili felt as if a new and unknown power had overtaken her as if, with the excess of wine, the spirit of a a prowling jungle beast had invaded her soul.

  Kneading Kay’s muscles, Lili felt an overwhelming excitement beginning to churn within herself, and she shut her eyes, fighting back an impulse to settle on to Kay’s magnificent flesh and envelop her whole. She knew Kay was not asleep, but she could feel relaxation in the worn muscles, and it was only when a hand began to stroke her thigh, so slowly, that Lili knew her explosion could no longer be contained.

  Her mouth met the back of Kay’s neck and with an ungodly strength Lili held her and tore away the blouse, covering Kay’s back with wild movements of a tongue that wanted to sweep across her fragrant beauty without end. Still Lili held Kay down, but opening her eyes realized there would be no resistance to her relentless passion, and soon they were as one, flesh to flesh, their complicated, fruity wetness joining in a fiery throbbing that held them both at the brink of a precipice …

  Sobbing, moaning, crying out and begging for more of this ecstasy, Kay could not recall ever having known such terrible urgency with any man, each touch of Lili’s skin and fingertips and adoring mouth bringing her to almost unbearable rapture. Having come completely after what had seemed hours of electrifying awakenings down her hardened nipples into the depths of her womanhood, Kay took Lili in her arms and held her in silence. Slowly, her fingertips outlined Lili’s form, falling gently along the soft skin of her young thighs and moving into the shy, untouched garden that Kay now probed with tenderness, its virginal treasure wanting and pleading …

  Every night thereafter the two girls slept as one and though Lili’s moaning voice declared true love, Kay would only revel in the newfound form of sublime orgasm and over nine sleepless nights of insatiable, devouring, never-once-mentioned love.
/>   46

  No sooner had Hana Bukova and Josef Ratusz arrived in Britain than their lives were being commandeered by an assortment of Polish agents and military eccentrics who appeared more menacing than the Nazis they had just left behind. Hana had landed with crisp precision at Prestwick, spending the first night on friendly soil at the Orangefields Hotel, where the wizened, bow-legged proprietor had been convinced his new guests were German spies.

  Little sleep was had by either flying ace, and by six o’clock the next morning a hearse had arrived to whisk the pair away, its darkened windows leaving the hotelier bemused. When they had gone his bobbing bald head pleaded with his assortment of long-term resident ferry pilots to do something about this calamity, but these residents were Americans and on this morning they were setting out on their busiest day yet. The Battle of Britain was raging, their President could do nothing, but they had survived U-Boat alley to be where they most wanted their talents to be used.

  Departing in a cold dawn mist, the car carrying Hana and Josef had an odd identity plate, the letters of which were recorded by the vigilant proprietor. By the time he had lumbered back to the breakfast room, where smells of black pudding and toast entranced the last of the pilots remaining at the table, his wife was bustling at the washing-up and mumbling about the absence of eggs. He wanted to tell someone about the car and the spies and their bizarre uniforms, but she could only wail while the American pilot scraping his plate laughed and took his leave.

  Arriving in the centre of London at what seemed an eternity later, Hana and Josef laboured to extract their stiff bodies from the automobile, hunger and thirst pushing them to the brink of collapse. Being allowed no respite, their sullen driver, and in turn his tall, colourless companion, ordered the pair in Polish to mount a fiendish pyramid of steps. At the top Hana felt she would faint but Josef seized her by the arm and when she had recovered her breath they could see these were the headquarters of Poles in exile. Not one word had been exchanged during the seemingly interminable car journey, but now Josef wanted a response.