The Spitfire Sisters

by Margaret Dickinson

  Alice smiled and touched her husband’s arm. ‘It’s wartime, Robert. Let him have his fun.’

  ‘Whatever are you doing here?’ Daisy greeted Johnny as she alighted from the Miles Master she had brought back to Hatfield. Then, seeing his face, she breathed, ‘Oh no! What is it?’

  He took her arm and led her away from the aircraft, walking towards the office to check in, which she had to do regardless of what was happening in her personal life.

  Swiftly, he explained. Tears flooded down her face and they stopped walking whilst he put his arms around her and held her close. As they resumed walking towards the buildings, she clung onto his arm and then, through her tears, she saw Gill hovering near the door.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Daisy,’ she said, hugging her. ‘Is there anything we can do?’

  ‘I don’t know. I can’t take it in.’

  ‘The CO has said you can have compassionate leave, if you need it, and, of course, when you know when the funerals are . . .’

  ‘I’ll telephone Daddy. He’ll know what’s happening.’

  ‘The CO said you could use her office.’

  Daisy nodded. ‘That’s kind of her.’

  ‘Daddy – it’s me. I’ve heard the awful news. Johnny came to tell me. What ought I to do? Where’s Aunty Pips? Ought I to go to her?’

  ‘She’s in London with Milly and Paul. They’re looking after her.’

  Daisy’s voice trembled a little as she said, ‘She might have been with him – with Uncle George.’

  ‘We thought for a while she was, but Mitch was there helping in the rescue, so of course he knew it was poor Rebecca and not Pips.’

  ‘Uncle Mitch? He was there?’

  ‘Yes. Milly told us that he’s an air-raid warden in the area where Pips and George lived. It was lucky, I suppose.’

  After a little more conversation, Daisy replaced the receiver thoughtfully. Luck had nothing to do with it, she thought. She guessed that Mitch had chosen to patrol that area deliberately so that he could watch over Pips.

  At the hall, Robert rang off and went to find Alice. ‘Well, that solves that question.’

  ‘Which one is that, darling?’

  ‘The one the Operations Manager left us with when she referred to Daisy’s “young man”.’

  ‘She’s told you who it is?’

  Despite the sadness in their hearts, Robert chuckled. ‘Not that she realized she was doing so but, yes, she did. It was Johnny Hammond who went to tell her about George and Rebecca.’

  Thirty-Nine

  Pips had been staying with Milly and Paul for over a week. A joint funeral had been arranged in a church as near to where they lived as possible that was still undamaged by the bombing. They were to be buried side by side.

  ‘George once told me that he didn’t need to be taken to where his first wife is buried. I know this is what he would have wanted.’ Her face was bleak. ‘Bless him, he didn’t expect to be buried at the same time as his daughter. It’s so sad, isn’t it?’

  ‘Pips, darling . . .’ Milly was on edge. ‘There’s something I have to ask you and I’m not finding it easy.’

  ‘Oh phooey,’ Pips said, finding some of her old spirit. ‘You can talk to me about anything, Milly. You should know that by now.’

  ‘All right – yes – but it’s about Mitch, you see.’

  Levelly, Pips said. ‘What about him?’

  ‘He – um – would like to come to the funeral, but he’s not sure if you’d want him there.’

  Pips stared at her. ‘Of course I would. He’s our friend.’

  Milly relaxed visibly. ‘Oh, that’s all right, then. I’ll send word to him.’

  Puzzled, Pips said, ‘Why would he think that?’

  ‘Well, because . . .’ Milly floundered again. ‘He’s always had this “thing” about you and . . .’

  Pips actually laughed aloud. ‘Oh, that nonsense. I thought all that was over long ago.’ Her smile faded. ‘Although I have to admit, George was always a little – what shall I say – wary, when Mitch was around. But from what I’ve heard, Mitch has a string of girlfriends.’

  ‘Yes, he has, but, Pips, darling, he’s never married one of them, now has he?’

  The Maitland family insisted that they would come down to London to attend the joint funeral, though Pips begged them not to attend. ‘The bombing is less now than it was – ironically since the night they were killed – but no one knows when it might start up again,’ she said. Now she was telephoning home each evening. ‘George wouldn’t have wanted you to put yourselves in danger.’

  ‘We’ll stay at a hotel somewhere on the outskirts and get a taxi in,’ Edwin said firmly. ‘Can you recommend anywhere?’

  ‘I’ll ask Milly and we’ll book you in. She and Paul know London so much better than even I do.’

  ‘And book two extra rooms for Daisy and Johnny, won’t you? Daisy rang here last night. They’re coming.’

  ‘What about Luke?’

  ‘Daisy’s been in touch with him, but he can’t get leave as George isn’t classed as a close relative.’

  ‘Understandable, I suppose,’ she murmured. ‘All right, I’ll do as you ask and let you know the details.’

  The day of the funeral was foggy and damp but there was a large number of mourners.

  ‘There was a huge piece in the paper about him and I think there are quite a few old army colleagues here as well as people he now works with,’ Pips told her family as she met them outside the church. ‘He was always well liked. In fact, six serving soldiers from his old regiment are acting as pall bearers and I’ve chosen his favourite hymns and music and Matthew’s chosen the part of the service that will concentrate on Rebecca. Now, we’d better go in. We’re sitting on the right-hand side, Matthew’s friends on the left. Sadly, he has no family to support him. Father, Mother – will you sit either side of me?’

  ‘Of course, my darling,’ Edwin said, putting her hand through his arm, whilst Henrietta walked beside her.

  It was a long service as both George and Rebecca were given a full service and glowing tributes were paid to both of them.

  They emerged at last into the dank weather for the committal and then walked to a nearby pub where Pips had arranged for refreshments. Not everyone was able to stay; the army personnel excused themselves, citing pressure of duty, and only one or two of George’s colleagues from the War Office stayed. Rebecca’s nursing friends surrounded Matthew and one or two of his colleagues from the Foreign Office stayed too.

  Fortified by the company of her family, Pips found she was able to speak to each and every one of those still present. She hugged Daisy and Johnny, acting as if he was already part of their family.

  Watching, Robert raised his eyebrows and murmured to Alice, ‘It looks as if we were right. They were holding hands throughout the service.’

  ‘Not much escapes you, my darling, does it?’ Alice murmured.

  ‘Not where Daisy’s concerned, no.’

  At last Pips found herself facing Mitch.

  ‘It was good of you to come,’ she said simply. ‘Thank you.’ She reached out to take his hands into hers, but then noticed that both his hands were bandaged.

  ‘Whatever happened to you?’

  ‘Oh – er – nothing much,’ he said awkwardly, trying to hide them behind his back.

  ‘It doesn’t look like “nothing much”,’ she began, but Mitch interrupted her.

  ‘I’m so sorry about George, Pips. He was a fine soldier and an even better man.’

  Pips felt the lump in her throat that had been threatening all day grow larger, but she was determined not to cry.

  ‘He was,’ she said huskily.

  Mitch lingered for a few moments, but the silence between them now was strained. ‘I must go,’ he said. ‘But if there’s anything you need, Pips, Milly knows where to find me.’

  ‘Oh Mitch, don’t . . .’ she began, but already he was hurrying away, weaving through the throng towards the door.
As he reached it, however, an imperious voice stopped him. ‘Mitch Hammond? I hope you weren’t going without a word to me.’

  He turned slowly. ‘Mrs Maitland,’ he murmured and, unable to lie to this woman whom he admired so much, he said, quite truthfully, ‘I’m afraid I must plead guilty to that. I – I’m not sure I should even be here.’

  ‘Of course you should. You are a good friend to Pips.’ Her piercing eyes seemed to read his thoughts as she added softly, ‘I understand exactly how you feel – and why – but believe me, that is not entering Pips’s head. Not today.’

  ‘Of course not. I – wouldn’t want it to.’

  ‘Give it time, Mitch. She’ll need all her friends over the next few weeks and months. Just be there for her.’

  His voice cracked a little as he said, ‘Always, Mrs Maitland. Always.’

  Then he turned and left abruptly. Pips’s mother was far too astute for his comfort.

  Henrietta watched him go with narrowed eyes. ‘Now,’ she murmured to herself, ‘I wonder just how he injured his hands so badly? And who, I wonder, could tell me?’

  As several of the mourners began to leave, Henrietta sought out Paul. ‘Is Philippa going home with you or coming up to Lincolnshire with us?’

  He shook his head. ‘She wants to get back to her work. She says it’s the best thing for her.’

  ‘Actually, knowing her as I do, I agree.’ Henrietta glanced fondly across the room to where Milly and Pips were deep in conversation. ‘Your wife has been wonderful, Paul. Everyone should have a friend like Milly. Tell me, do you know how Mitch came to damage his hands?’

  ‘Um – yes, I do.’

  ‘And?’ she prompted.

  He sighed. ‘He’ll kill me for telling you.’

  ‘I doubt that. Go on.’ Henrietta was not a woman to be denied an answer.

  ‘He was one of the first on the scene that night. You know that he is an air-raid warden in that area?’ She nodded and he went on. ‘I found him still there after several hours, still searching the debris, tearing at it with his bare hands – almost like a madman.’

  ‘Milly mentioned that he was still digging long after the other rescuers had left, but I hadn’t realized why. He was searching for her,’ Henrietta murmured softly. ‘For Philippa. He thought she was under the rubble.’

  Paul nodded then begged, ‘Please don’t tell her. He’d be mortified.’

  ‘No, I understand. Today is not the time to be told something like that, but if she ever asks me about it, Paul, I will not lie to her.’

  Solemnly, Paul said, ‘I wouldn’t expect you to, Mrs Maitland.’

  The days and weeks following the funeral for George and his daughter were difficult for Pips, but work was her salvation. Being away from London helped and she was amongst people who, though they knew what had happened, had not known George and therefore were not a constant reminder.

  She kept in touch with Matthew, but he too found that the demanding work at the Foreign Office was a blessing.

  The weeks passed by and the shock and the acute pain of loss began to lessen, just a little. Pips, always an optimist, tried to think about all the wonderful times they’d shared and how blessed she’d been in the quiet peace of her marriage to George. She still wore the brooch he’d given her as a tribute to the gentle man who’d loved her so dearly. She buried herself in the work which, she now guessed, George, in his concern for her safety, had engineered for her. Once again, she had reason to be grateful for his love, for not only was she away from the dreadful bombing, but also she loved the work at Bletchley. It stretched her mind, was all-consuming and the world outside faded away. Now, more than ever, it was exactly what she needed.

  Forty

  ‘What does he think he’s doing? It’s madness,’ Robert said, handing the morning paper over the breakfast table to his father.

  Towards the end of June, the newspapers were full of Hitler’s invasion of Russia.

  ‘I don’t like to think of him attacking yet more countries, poor devils.’ Edwin sighed. ‘Though, being entirely selfish, it might take the heat off us for a bit.’

  ‘I’m not sure it will. I know the bombing in London has lessened, but now he’s got control of airfields in northern France, he’s systematically bombing ports and cities throughout Britain. D’you think he still intends to invade us too?’

  Edwin shrugged. ‘Who knows what a madman will do next, because that’s what he is. But if he spreads himself too thinly, that’ll be the end of him. It says here he’s attacking Russia along an eighteen-hundred-mile front. How can you service the needs of troops along a line like that?’

  ‘I expect he’ll find a way,’ Robert said grimly. ‘Meanwhile, our youngsters will just have to keep on doing what they’re doing.’

  Finding themselves alone as they finished breakfast, Edwin said quietly, ‘I fear for them, Robert. I really do, especially Luke and Harry and Johnny, too, if we must now look upon him as a member of the family.’ He paused and then added, ‘Are you happy about that?’

  Robert wrinkled his forehead. ‘I’m not unhappy about it, Father, but I worry about Daisy getting hurt. What Johnny does is so very dangerous.’

  Edwin sighed heavily and folded up the newspaper as if to shut away any more bad news. ‘I know, but all we can do is to be here for them if – God forbid – they should need us.’

  ‘Daisy! Daisy!’ Gill was running across the airfield towards her as Daisy climbed out of the Anson which had just brought her back to Hatfield. ‘Guess what?’

  It was Gill’s usual greeting when she had a piece of news to impart. Daisy eyed her friend fondly. The girl reached her and was still hopping up and down in excitement, her eyes sparkling. ‘You’ll never guess.’

  Daisy smiled and indulged her. ‘I’m sure I won’t. So – enlighten me.’

  ‘You and me. We’re going to be tested on flying’ – she paused and pulled in a deep breath – ‘Hurricanes.’

  Daisy stared at her and her heart felt as if it leapt in her chest. ‘What?’

  ‘Hurricanes. We’re going to be tested on Hurricanes. All of us, eventually. But five of us – including you and me – are going first. Now, before you say anything’ – Gill held out her hand palm outwards as if to fend her off – ‘I know it’s not Spitfires, but Miss Gower says we’ve just got to be patient.’ Her grin widened. ‘They’ll be next.’

  Daisy nodded thoughtfully. ‘We’re getting closer, but I won’t be happy until I’m flying a Spit. Anyway, when’s this happening?’

  ‘Today. Right now, in fact. Come on.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘This test pilot has brought a Hurricane from our headquarters at White Waltham. Come on, Daisy. Hurry up, or we’ll get left out.’

  ‘But I’ve got to . . .’ Daisy began, but already she was running alongside Gill to where a group of excited ATA women pilots were standing near a sleek little aircraft, glinting in the July sunshine.

  ‘Right,’ said the pilot who had brought the aeroplane to Hatfield. ‘Who’s first?’

  Daisy felt a dig in her ribs. ‘Go on,’ Gill hissed. ‘You’ve never stopped going on about flying Hurricanes and Spitfires, so get going.’

  Daisy stepped forward and climbed up onto the wing and into the cockpit. After the pilot had gone through the checklist with her, she started the engine and taxied to the take-off point. Her heart was beating rapidly; she was so anxious not to make any serious mistakes. The future of the ATA girls being allowed to fly operational aircraft was, at this moment, on her shoulders, or rather beneath her guiding hands.

  ‘Contact,’ she shouted. Her take-off was smooth and she roared into the sky, the sound of the engine thrilling her.

  It was a lovely little aircraft, so manoeuvrable that Daisy was tempted to try a few aerobatics, but knew she mustn’t. After a few circles over the airfield, she landed sedately – and perfectly – to allow Gill to climb in next.

  ‘What a beautiful aeroplane,’ she enthu
sed when she landed and all five of the girls who had been lucky enough to be chosen agreed as, one by one, they took their flight.

  ‘We’re flying fighters,’ Daisy murmured, as they watched the aircraft leave the airfield to return to White Waltham. ‘We’re actually flying fighter aircraft. Come on,’ she linked her arms through Gill’s and Violet’s, ‘let’s go and celebrate.’

  One bright sunny morning in August, Daisy’s dream finally came true. As she stared at the delivery chit in her hand, her heart began to beat a little faster. ‘Gill,’ she whispered. ‘I’ve got it. I’ve got my first Spitfire.’

  ‘No!’ Gill peered over her shoulder to see the words for herself. ‘You lucky thing. Don’t you realize, you’ve got the first Spitfire for our little group. I wonder when I’ll get one.’

  ‘I’ve to collect it from Castle Bromwich and take it to Duxford.’

  ‘You double lucky thing,’ Gill said and there was a definite trace of envy in her voice now. ‘You might see Johnny. I can’t seem to get a delivery to Tangmere for love nor money.’

  But, for once, Daisy’s mind was more on flying her first Spitfire than of meeting Johnny.

  Gill walked out to the aircraft with her. ‘Now, don’t forget to read your notes again and listen to the fitter. They often give us useful tips.’

  Daisy smiled inwardly. Gill was doing her ‘mother hen’ bit.

  It seemed appropriate, Daisy thought as she climbed up onto the wing, that she should be given her first Spitfire today. Only yesterday, she had received promotion to first officer and had been given an extra gold stripe.

  She fitted perfectly into the close-fitting cockpit and fired up the Merlin engine which sounded so loud close to, but it was a beautiful sound and thrilled Daisy to the core. This was what she had always wanted. The aircraft was so easy to fly, the controls so responsive to her touch. She was in the air and reaching a speed of 250 mph almost before she realized it, climbing and circling with gentle touches on the stick.

  Johnny was waiting for her when she landed, his arms outstretched as she climbed out of the cockpit and launched herself from the wing into his arms.