Mar 6, 2024
But I gotta say, hearing his voice over the radio, that was the first time that I didn't feel scared shitless. Even though he'd clearly lost his fucking marbles, I knew I wasn't alone.
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But I gotta say, hearing his voice over the radio, that was the first time that I didn't feel scared shitless. Even though he'd clearly lost his fucking marbles, I knew I wasn't alone.
No record. No record. No record.
Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die.
Masters of the Air episode 5 / Charge of the Light Brigade by Alfred Tennyson
Screencaps from @itstheheebiejeebies
I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 10
Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 |-| Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19
AO3
Warnings: Language
Word Count: 3.5k
Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp @latibvles @love-studying58
The room was silent, nothing but the sound of calm, steady breathing piercing the air, a single beam of sunlight stretching through a gap in the curtains, snaking across the bedsheets in a thin, golden ribbon. Frankie was sat up, hunched forward slightly, picking at a frayed edge of the blanket as she stared blankly down at the foot of the bed. Laid back against the pillows, Rosie watched her intently, his thumb rubbing slow, gentle circles against the skin of her back, poking up beneath the hem of her shirt.
The second floor of the village pub consisted entirely of various bedrooms, a makeshift bed and breakfast, intended to make money out of the encroaching military population. With the Nissen huts so strictly segregated, the place had become a popular haunt for anyone hoping for a little 'alone time'. They came often. He liked to sleep beside her the night before a mission - to hold her close for what could always be the last time, to sit and talk somewhere entirely alone. Rosie did his best to avoid thinking about what else might have taken place in this bed - for now, it was simply their refuge.
Twenty-five missions. It was an impressive credential, a staggering achievement considering the almost impossible odds every pilot faced when he took off each day. And with it came the ultimate prize - a ticket home. Any man among them would give a limb for the chance - to never have to go up again, to truly live a life back home with their family.
It felt almost criminal not to want it.
But how could he? How could he burn for home the way the others did, when she wouldn't be there? When twenty-five missions meant being an ocean apart from the woman next to him, twenty-five missions was a death sentence.
"I want you to do it," Frankie croaked, her voice strained and quiet. His palm flattened against her back, and with a sigh she lay back, hair fanning out against the pillow.
"What do you mean?" He asked, brow furrowed.
Her head lolled to the side, meeting his gaze. "When you make twenty-five. I want you to go home."
"... What?" Rosie swore he felt his stomach sink, nausea bubbling in his chest as it burrowed deep into his gut.
Frankie shrugged, the sheets rustling with the movement. "You deserve to see your family, Rosie. You deserve not to live in a place that smells like oil and shit, especially after everything you've done."
A deep frown tugged at his expression as he shifted, propping himself up on an elbow to get a better look at her face. There was nothing in her eyes but utter, uncompromising sincerity. "W-..." He paused a moment, waiting for his mind to stop racing long enough to form a sentence. "What about you?"
She smiled, lifting a hand to cup his cheek, and he couldn't help but lean into it, revelling in the feeling of warmth. "I'll catch you up when I'm done."
Rosie let out a huff of almost-laughter, flashing a disbelieving grin as he fought to fathom what she was saying. "Are you serious?"
A self-satisfied smirk had wormed its way across her face. "Why not?"
"You'd seriously come to America for me?"
"Well, I have always wanted to see the Statue of Liberty," Frankie teased, cutting herself off with a laugh as he fell forward, lips hastily colliding with hers, one hand finding her waist, the other clasping the back of her neck. Her arms snaked around his neck the way they always did, holding his head in place as she reciprocated the kiss, smiling against his lips.
He'd wanted to marry her then. It wasn't the first time the thought had occurred to him, nowhere near in fact, but he wasn't sure it had ever felt so strong. If he asked he knew she'd say no - she'd say they needed more time, that they needed to wait until this was all over. He understood. If something went wrong, if he didn't come back, he didn't want her to carry his name like a badge of un-belonging for the rest of her life. If he could give her anything in death, he wanted it to be a clean break.
The kiss ended, and she was beaming at him, combing a hand through his ungelled curls as he pressed his forehead against hers. She would have given anything to just stay there, tucked beneath the blankets, feeling his breath against her cheek. Every time he climbed into that cockpit, his plane disappearing into the clouds over the horizon, it was like she was preparing for his death already, readying her mind for the news if he ever didn't make it home. Each return was a momentary relief, but it never lasted long. This was the last hurdle, the last bridge to cross before he was home safe, and she could put that constant, nagging fear aside.
A hurried knock came hammering against the door, and a groan escaped Rosie's throat burying his face in the crook of her neck, the weight of his body preventing Frankie from being able to move. She let out a grunt, shoving at his shoulders. "Get up!" She chuckled, and he reluctantly rolled over, pushing himself up off the bed with a huff.
The floorboards creaked beneath his feet as he padded over to the door, prying it open only a few inches, his shoulders blocking the gap in the doorway and shielding Frankie from the view of whoever was outside. Pappy was already in uniform, foot tapping irritably against the floor as he answered. "Just checking, you do actually plan to fly your twenty-fifth, right?" He asked sarcastically.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll be there in a minute, just lemme get dressed," Rosie nodded, waving a hand of dismissal. Pappy didn't move, clearly waiting for him, and he began to frown as Rosie didn't move out of the doorway.
"Mornin', Frankie!" He called over Rosie's shoulder into the room behind him.
"Hey, Pappy!" Her voice rang out in return, and Rosie sighed, ignoring his friend's smirk as he closed the door on him.
"Y'know, it definitely would've looked weirder if you were just up here on your own," Frankie pointed out as Rosie began hurrying to grab his uniform and put it on. "That'd raise some questions."
It was later in the day than he'd thought, and he almost tugged his trousers on backwards in an attempt to get dressed as fast as possible, stuffing all of his belongings blindly into a bag as he raced to make his mission. Frankie was only half ready by the time he was done, and he pulled her attention away from the tying of her boot by capturing her lips in a quick goodbye kiss.
"Alright, I gotta go. I love you, I'll see you later."
His hand was already on the doorknob by the time he realised it. Turning his head, she was staring back at him. He'd never said those words before. In a million different ways he had made it abundantly clear that it was true, but this was the first time he'd truly looked her in the eye and said it.
"Yeah?" Frankie grinned.
"Oh, you have no idea," Rosie beamed, slipping out into the hall. Pappy was still waiting, a confused look contorting his expression as he noticed the red flush that filled his face. Making a beeline for the stairs, his copilot was close behind, the question lingering on the tip of his tongue.
"Are you... ok?"
Rosie reached the bottom of the stairs, turning back to look up at him, slightly out of breath. "Told my girl I love her. First time."
"Oh! Congrats?"
"Thanks, Pap," He nodded, clapping him on the shoulder, unable to tear away his grin.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
It had been over an hour since the planes departed, and George and Frankie were sitting in the field that ran alongside the airstrip, propped up on their elbows as they lounged in the grass, sharing a bag of peanuts between them. The sun hung high and bright that day, and sunglasses rested on the bridges of their noses despite the slight chill in the air.
"So he told you he loved you," George nodded. "But you guys have been a thing for a while now, was that seriously the first time?"
"Nah. First time he'll remember, though - he says it a lot when he's drunk, but he's shy when he's sober."
She chuckled, red lips curling up in a smile. "Yunno, I always thought that guy was a bit of a weirdo, but you make me like him."
Frankie laughed, shaking her head. "God, you're a terrible person."
George gasped, head lolling to the side to look over at her friend. "Speaking of - you know Brenda? Red Cross Brenda? Well, apparently she-"
Before she got the chance to finish her sentence, Ken came bounding up, grinning like a lost puppy returned to its owner. "Heya!" He chirped, crouching down before the pair. It had become customary for the young mechanic to invade their conversations whenever he wasn't busy, eager for some company outside of his other sprightly, male colleagues. "What's goin' on?"
"Boooo!" George thundered at his intrusion, reaching for a fistful of peanuts and throwing them at him, a few pinging against his forehead.
"God, who invited you?" Frankie cried, her voice overlapping with George's. "Get your own friends!"
The hostilities were all in jest, the way a sister might poke fun at a brother, and neither woman objected as Lemmons wormed his way in between them, lifting their belongings out of the way to clear a space for him on the grass. Hands folded behind his head, he peered up at them, squinting in the sun. "So... what happened with Brenda?"
"Nuh-uh," George shook her head. "If you wanted to know you should've shown up on time. Those are the rules."
"There's rules now?"
"Obviously, we're not imbeciles," Frankie shrugged. "Get with the program or get fucked, Kenny."
"Jesus Christ."
"So, Ken, how's Fonda?" She asked, her voice taking on a singsong lilt, a teasing smirk curling her lip.
He let out a groan, folding his arms over his head so they couldn't see the red flush that had overtaken his face. "...She's good," After he wallowed in embarrassment for a moment, an indignant expression overtook him, and he bolted upright. "Hey, at least I'm married!"
"Yeah, at nineteen, 'cause that's normal," George snorted, fending him off as he tried to whack her over the head.
"I'm just sayin'! Frankie and Rosie gotta hurry it up a little, I think."
Frankie scoffed, throwing up her hands in surrender. "I... Actually, no, fuck off, I'm not going there with you - I'm sorry that I'm waiting to properly get to know the guy before I get hitched, ok?"
"Oh, she knows the guy, alright," George muttered, and Ken snorted a laugh, the pair letting out yelps as a fistful of peanuts collided with their heads.
"I'm content with my choices!" Frankie declared loudly, and the three of them stewed in silence for a moment before collectively descending into laughter, the sight of a dozen missed peanuts scattered in the grass only adding to the inexplicable hilarity.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
It was as if they'd almost forgotten what they were waiting for by the time the sound of faraway plane engines began to split the air, a familiar thrumming sound that sent an involuntary jolt of panic through Frankie whenever she heard it, her heart immediately pounding out of her chest as she leapt up, accidentally sticking a foot into the empty bag of nuts as she scrambled to her feet. She'd never felt quite like it, an equal mix of terror and elation flooding through her - fear that it might not be Rosie flying one of the returning buses, but delight at what it meant if he was.
Half of Thorpe Abbotts seemed to have turned up for his return, and Frankie almost burst into tears the moment 'Rosie's Riveters' came into view, George's whooping ringing in her ears as she wrapped her arms around her shoulders, jumping up and down in ecstatic celebration. It took a moment for the gravity of their situation to dawn on her, but when it did she couldn't stop grinning, her cheeks beginning to ache. Rosie was going home. He was safe.
The moment he left the plane, he was swarmed, a dozen hands lifting him up off the tarmac, hauling him up onto the men's shoulders as the barrage of cheers and applause filled his ears. But the second he had slipped through that door, his eyes had found her, standing at the back of the crowd, clapping along, her shoulder leant up against George's. Their gazes met, and she rolled her eyes teasingly - he could almost hear her voice in his head, jokingly begging him to stay humble as he was carried aloft through the crowd.
They were cheering his name, shaking his hand and patting him on the back as he passed, but as soon as his feet touched the tarmac, none of it mattered. The second he was on solid ground again, he was making a beeline towards Frankie, brow raised in question. They were too far apart, too bracketed by ear-splitting cheers for him to simply ask 'Can I kiss you?', but she could always tell. With a smirk and a nod, permission was granted, and the moment they collided his lips were on hers, hands cupping her cheeks, her eyelashes fluttering against his skin. A second, somehow ever more raucous cheer erupted, and he could feel her smiling into the kiss as her hands found his collar, pressing against his jaw. In that moment, even through the cacophony of whoops and yells, she was the only person in the world to him.
The kiss broke, but his hands stayed firmly planted on either side of her face, their foreheads pressed against each other, eyes locked. "Hi," Frankie beamed, speaking so softly that only he could hear.
"Hello."
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Frankie had never been quite so much at the centre of attention than she was that night. It was as if the moment Rosie had kissed her in front of everyone on the tarmac, it became her party as well as his, a celebration of just making it, of still having the person you loved at the end of the day. She'd showered three times that afternoon, desperately trying to scrub away the lingering smell of her work, and George had even made her put on lipstick. But Frankie couldn't deny it - she looked fucking good.
The band was in full swing, to such an extent that she had to yell over the incessant ring of trumpets just to order a drink, but as the night rolled on she never once felt Rosie's hand leave her - a gentle palm against her waist or back wherever they went, a quiet reminder that he was home safe, that they were going to be ok. Bailey had an arm around her shoulder, and her head tilted back as she laughed at one of Pappy's jokes, and for once they seemed to feel free - free to simply be each other's friends without having to worry about losing one another.
"So I said to her, I said "Hey Betty, you're gonna wanna paint those ceilings your favourite colour, 'cause you'll be seein' a lot of 'em when I get home," Bailey joked, and she let out a groan as the others laughed, gently slapping his shoulder with the back of her palm. Across the circle they had formed, Croz went digging in his pocket for a cigarette, and she reached out, holding up her lighter for him as he nodded his thanks.
Rosie's hands on her shoulders caught her attention as he slipped around behind her. "I'm gettin' another drink - you need anythin', honey?"
"No, I'm good," She nodded, raising her half-finished beer as proof as he stepped away towards the bar. Turning back to the others, she found Pappy grinning at her, sipping smugly at his whiskey. "Oh, shut up - what're you, twelve?"
"So you've been keeping it under wraps since Christmas?" Crosby asked, raising a brow in alarm as Bailey guffawed.
"Oh, yeah, 'keepin' it under wraps'," He chuckled. "Jesus, we could all tell from the day he got back," The other members of Rosie's flight crew began to laugh, nodding in agreement.
"Well, what can I say? I'm just that great," Frankie grinned, squeezing Bailey's arm as she shuffled past him, moving to follow Rosie towards the bar.
She hadn't had a chance to thank Kidd yet for giving her Bucky's jacket, and was already poised to speak as she approached, a warm smile curling her lip. But then she heard his words.
"Brass is upping the end-of-tour requirements from twenty-five to thirty missions."
Her stomach sank. Not just for the poor pilots, for every man who had been so goddamn close to getting to go home. But because she knew in that moment that Rosie wasn't done. Even if he hadn't realised it yet, even if the decision to stay hadn't yet crossed his mind, she knew him well enough. He wouldn't leave because he couldn't - couldn't give it up and take the easy way out when so many other, less experienced men had to die as a result of this decision. She loved him for it, but maybe she hated him a little too.
Frankie hadn't realised she'd stopped dead in her tracks until Kidd spotted her, his brow furrowing. Rosie turned to follow his gaze, eyes softening the moment they landed on her. "Frankie-"
Her glass went down on the bar with a thud, her desire to drink suddenly evaporated. "Thanks for the jacket, Jack," She nodded, forcing a smile. "That was really nice of you."
Before Rosie got the chance to reach out to her, she had walked away, brushing past them both as she forced her way through the crowd, the thumping of her heartbeat in her ears drowning out the sound of the music. She had begun searching for George without even realising it, spotting her familiar golden curls among a crowd of Red Cross volunteers. Making a move towards her, George turned immediately on her arrival, brow drawing with concern.
"Can we go?"
"Yeah," George accepted without hesitation, casting aside her drink as she shouldered her way towards the door, clearing a path for Frankie to trail along behind.
She hadn't realised quite how tightly she'd been holding her breath until they stepped outside, the cold air hitting her like a wall as she let it out in a gasp, running a hand through her hair as she marched around to the side of the building, sitting down on the nearest bench she could find. The wood creaked as George sat down beside her, placing a gentle hand on her knee and waiting quietly for her to speak.
"I have washed... so much blood out of those planes," Frankie said, her voice uneven, letting out a long, shaky exhale as she spoke. "Before I got this job I didn't really understand how much blood a person could have. Sometimes when they get hit by shrapnel, it tears the leather on the seats, n' the blood soaks into the stuffing. It's really hard to get it out then - usually I just have to seal the hole and leave it in there. But then it's like... whoever gets in that plane next just has to sit on that blood, like there's this permanent reminder that someone died there, but I'm the only one who knows it's there."
"Frankie... what happened? D'you want me to get Rosie?"
"No," She spoke hurriedly, shaking her head. "No, I don't-... I can't talk to him right now."
George turned sideways in her seat to properly look at her, raising a hand to swipe the hair away from her face. "Why? Did he do something?"
Frankie took a deep breath, finally meeting George's gaze, her eyes red and filled with tears. "He's going back up, George."
"What? Did he tell you that?"
"They've upped the number of missions the new guys have to do to be allowed to leave. Rosie's in the clear, but... we both know he won't take it now."
She sniffed, raising a hand to wipe away the tear that trailed down her cheek, and George pulled her forward into a hug, cheek pressed against her scalp as she rubbed her back.
"I'm so tired, George," Frankie croaked, her voice scarcely loud enough to hear.
"I know," She whispered. "... I know."
Character Tournament: Round One
Snafu Shelton vs. Pappy Lewis
Snafu Shelton
Pappy Lewis
learn how to steal this poll
Every Time We Say Goodbye
Beat Me, Daddy, Eight To The Bar: Part Seven Everett Blakely x Valencia DiRosano (OC)
Valencia is about to learn first-hand that not everything is as it seems. Especially when the horrors of the war threaten to take from her for the first time. Who will be there to pick her up and carry her through, and will friendship alone be enough; especially when her best friend is harboring the secret of a lifetime.
Part Six Follow along with the Eight to The Bar Playlist
Val moved through the house with a smile, dropping her bags by the door and leaving her purse and gloves on the credenza. She could hear a voice coming from the living room, softly speaking without waiting for a reply. Turning the corner, she found Everett holding a small baby, his eyes bright as he kept talking, the baby looking up at him in wonder at each word. Pausing by the door, she stood and watched, her smile never fading.
“Mommy’s going to be home soon, and then, we can tell her all about what we did today… did you miss her while she was out to lunch with the girls? I did too, but I bet she had a great time with your Aunties. We need to make sure we remind her how much we love her, okay? Did you know mommy served in the war? Prettiest girl in East Anglia, but your Uncle Dougie might fight me on that and say it’s your Aunt Olive… Mommy made the best coffee, and she looked so pretty doing it too. Except for when your Uncle Curt would annoy her… he was really great. Did you know, he introduced me to mommy? Sometimes mommy gets sad because she misses him, so we need to remind her of the good stuff…”
No, that couldn’t be right… Curt couldn’t be gone. He wouldn’t just give up that easy; no one had more gusto during the war than he did! Then who had walked her down the aisle? Who…who’s life was she looking at? Surely not her own! Her life included her best friend, no matter how much he annoyed her, he was supposed to be there.
“No…” she whispered, the word muffled as the house around her filled with a rusting noise as she turned and ran back towards the front door, desperate to get out of this life that didn’t belong to her. “No!”
Her eyes flew open, the rustling sound continuing around her as she took in the sight of the Red Cross hut. The side table with the photos of her and her friends, her rosary sitting next to the photo of her and Everett where she had placed it before bed. Helen sleeping in her bed to her left, wrapped up like a caterpillar waiting to emerge as a butterfly, and Olive sitting up in the bed to her right flipping through the pages of a book. So that was what she had heard. Exhaling deeply, she stretched beneath her blankets, arms coming up to test the temperature in the hut.
“Morning Chickie,” she turned to face Olive, the Brit offering her a smile in return. “Up already?”
“You know me…” Olive smiled, closing her book and placing it on her side table.
Sitting up, she swung her legs from under the covers and stood, making her way to the washroom to start her morning routine. As she passed Helen, or what she assumed was Helen beneath the blankets, she gave her a shake to rouse her as well, so that the three of them could start their day.
“Nooo…” the Helen shaped blankets whined, burrowing deeper into the pillows. “Not yet… I was just about to have my big kiss with Jimmy Stewart!”
“You can kiss Jimmy Stewart at bedtime!” Val hollered from the sink, her voice muffled as she washed her face. “Right now, Herbert Nash is waiting for you to serve him coffee and wish him good morning!”
“Oh,” Helen giggled, untangling herself from the blankets. She was wrapped so tightly, Olive had to come and give her a hand. “Uh, Olive, can you uh…”
“Jeez, Helen, how tight tight did you wrap up last night Chicken, it wasn’t that cold!”
“No, but it’s so cozy. Like being held and soothed to sleep.”
“Oh, I see, you were dreaming of your sweet flyboy.”
“Olive!”
“I’m just saying,” she shrugged with a grin, watching as Helen joined Val in the washroom. “I bet it was a real nice dream too, especially when Jimmy Stewart swooped in.”
“That’s what happens when you read magazines before bed,” Val laughed, coming back into the main hut to get dressed. “Romanced by Nash and a Hollywood star.”
“And who were you dreaming of, hmm?” Helen begged the question, peeking around the wall of the washroom, toothbrush in hand. Val glanced over her shoulder as she pulled on her blouse before replying.
“Who do you think,” Val teased, not ready to give up the dream turned nightmare that seemed more like a bad omen than anything else. “Cary Grant.”
“Oooh!” Both girls teased her, their laughter filling the hut as they continued to get ready for their day, and for a moment, she forgot about the dream, and what it might have meant.
They carried on with the start of their day, dressing and quickly pulling the blankets up on the beds so that the hut wasn’t messy. Once Val was in front of the mirror, digging through her cosmetics bag, the door swung open to reveal Tattie, a small box in hand and a smile on her face.
“Morning girls!” She greeted them, setting the box down on the nearest side table, digging into it with one hand.
“Morning chickie,” Val turned, zipping the jacket of her jumpsuit halfway. “Presents?”
“New uniform requirements,” Tattie shrugged. “Don’t ask me why but, we’ve got dog tags now.”
“Dog tags?”
“Yes, so don’t lose them please.”
Handing Val her chain, the brunette inspected the two tags hanging from the thin metal chain, the second tag hanging from a smaller chain, lower than the first.
“Perfect! One for me and one for Ev!” She beamed, pulling it over her head with care not to disrupt her hair, before tucking it into her blouse.
“Oh! Olive,” Tattie called to her, Olive turning on the spot as Tattie tossed her a set of tags. “It’s official. We’re keeping you.”
“Like you had much of a choice, Spaatz.” Olive grinned, looking over her tags with awe before following Val’s lead and putting them on.
“Something like that.” Tattie winked, handing Helen her tags as well.
“Helps to have a dad in high places doesn’t it?” Val teased, grabbing her cigarettes and old lighter with one hand, and her rosary with her other. Once all three items were secured inside her pockets, she linked arms with Olive and gestured to the door.
“Shall we?”
“Come on Chicken,” Olive beamed. “I suspect there’s two men hankering for a coffee and a good morning kiss out there.”
“Helen? Are you coming or waiting for Jimmy Stewart?” Val teased, reaching her arm back to gesture to her friend.
“Oh you’re so funny,” she rolled her eyes, grabbing Val’s hand and heading out the door with both her and Olive, Tattie right on their heels. “You’ll never let me live it down, will you!”
“We will, don’t worry.” Val chuckled.
“After you’ve had a proper song with Herbert Nash.” Olive grinned wickedly, wiggling her eyebrows as she looked at Helen.
“And who says I haven’t!”
“Helen!”
“What? He’s very charming!”
Pulling open the door, the four girls are met with the thickest smog to ever grace East Anglia, at least, that’s what it felt like.
“They can’t fly in this!” Val crowed, turning to Tattie with a worried look in her eye, as if hoping the woman had an answer. “Chicky’s got to ground them, right?”
“I don’t know, Valencia,” Tattie gave her hand a squeeze in solidarity, letting her know she shared the same worry. “For now, let’s just do what they need us to, hmm?”
“Okay… come on then. Coffee’s not going to brew itself.”
“I made the first batch of sinkers on the early shift.”
“You love the early shift, don’t ya Tat.” Olive teased from Val’s other side.
“It’s not so bad.” she grinned, and Val could see a hint of something simmering beneath the surface; but that was something for another time.
Approaching the Clubmobile, Val could just make out four figures leaning against the side. As they got closer she could see that it was Jack Kidd, Dougie, Herbert Nash and Everett. The boys were smoking and chatting amongst themselves, the three veteran flyboys appeared to be giving Nash the lowdown on how mornings usually unfolded on base.
“Excuse me fellas.” Everett tossed his cigarette down before pushing off the truck and making his way to Val.
Quickly untangling her arm from Olive’s and breaking away from the other three girls, Valencia met Everett halfway, falling into him with ease as he pressed his lips to hers in greeting. They kept it clean, aware of their friends being so near to them, before pulling away slowly.
“Good morning…”
“Hmm, good morning,” Val grinned, her thumb swiping at the corner of his mouth. “You got a little something…”
“Yeah?”
“Yes, and we don’t need Chicky seeing you with lipstick all over your face.”
“No,” he laughed, giving her thumb a quick kiss before she pulled back. “I don’t need a chewing out this early in the day.”
“If he can even find you in this soup.” She frowned, taking his hands, her grip trying not to come across as desperate, regardless of how she felt.
“Red’s got eyes in his ass, they’ll find us.”
His fingers brushed back a few strands of her hair that had fallen victim to the early morning breeze, his thumb grazing her temple. His big, hazel eyes went wide for a moment, looking over her shoulder to find his friends all in similar positions. He clocked Dougie and Olive, his bombardier had his better half pressed up against the side of the truck as he kissed her good morning, while Helen was giggling at something Nash had said, the fresh pilot looking a little too rigid with the higher ranking officers around him. And Tattie and Jack were, well he wasn’t sure, but they were talking softly and he had some strange look in his eye that Ev couldn’t quite place.
“So, what’s brought this on hmm?”
“Ran into Nash last night walking back from your hut. He had caught up with Rosie so we all went back together,” Ev gestured over his shoulder. “We thought it might be nice to surprise you before the day got started.”
“And Jack?”
“He sort of just tagged along… not sure what that’s about.”
“I have a pretty good idea,” Val grinned. “I’ll get to the bottom of it.”
“You think…?” He wrapped his arms around her, swaying her in place.
“Oh absolutely,” she laughed, arms sliding up the back of his leather jacket. “Jack’s got a twinkle in his eye.”
“You have a twinkle in your eye.” His face pressed into the crook of her shoulder, his eyes closing against her cheek, lashes tickling her gently.
“I wonder why that is.”
His reply was cut short by Olive hollering that the coffee was done, Dougie front and center at the window so he could get his first cup.
“No sugar, please, lovey.”
Val could just see the blush on Olive’s face at the nickname, shaking her head as she climbed into the truck to help her serve the boys.
“Oh, you like that one!” Dougie looked triumphant, taking the coffee from Olive with a grin.
“That one?”
“I’m trying out nicknames,” he explained, waving at Val. “Olive likes that one, I can tell.”
“Everett,” Val turned to her boyfriend, passing over his coffee. “Please don’t try any new nicknames for me, okay?”
“I gotcha,” he laughed. “Besides, we tested out sweet cheeks and you hated it.”
“Still hate it,” she grimaced. “Sounds funny and, dunno, just not like you.”
“Don’t worry sweetheart, I remember.”
“Ah, better.” She smiled, clocking two small boys running across the field from the hardstand at breakneck speed, laughing the whole way.
“Incoming,” Helen laughed, side stepping and pulling Nash with her.
“Who’s kids are those?” He asked, looking around at the group.
“Billy and Sammy,” Helen replied, pointing out each respectively. “Local boys who’ve taken a shine to Kenny and Winks.”
“The ground crew fellas, right?”
“Right. They came by one day while the two of them were working and we haven’t been able to shake em since.”
“Colonel Harding’s okay with that?”
“He doesn’t mind much,” Tattie patted Nash on the shoulder as she moved behind him to join Olive and Val in the truck. “As long as they don’t get in the way of work, and they’re behaved, he’s fine.”
The two young boys almost ran head first into the Clubmobile, Everett reaching his arm out to catch Sammy from falling as he tripped.
“Woah, Sammy! Easy pal!”
“Sorry Captain Ev!” The young boy giggled as Everett ruffled his hair, and Val couldn’t help but recall the better part of her dream that was Ev and the baby, and the gentle nature he had taken.
“Are you two behaving?” He looked down at them much like a parent would, but a teasing smile on his face.
“Yeah!” They chorused, hoping it was convincing enough.
“Alright, well, go on, I think Miss Olive has something for you.”
Olive had two fresh donuts on a piece of kitchen roll for them, and Val could practically see their mouths watering at the sight. She quickly grabbed two of the smaller mugs from under the counter and filled them with milk before topping them off with some of the coffee; a little something to make the kids feel like they were grown ups. Something her Nonna used to do back home, but with slightly less milk and definitely more coffee.
“Alright boys, careful,” Val leaned down with the two cups, their small hands grabbing at them eagerly before realizing she had made them a coffee. “And don’t tell your Ma! It’s our secret.”
“Wow! Coffee!” Billy’s eyes grew wide, his mouth pulled wide in a smile up at Val.
“What do you say, hmm fellas?” Dougie ruffled their hair as he passed them by.
“Thank you Miss Val and Miss Olive!” They cheered before running back towards the hardstands.
“You gave two hyper kids coffee? Jeez Val!”
“Oh relax, it’s mostly milk.”
“Oh! Well, that’s smart of you.” Olive grinned.
“Right,” Val winked. “Not just a pretty face.”
“The prettiest, though,” Ev winked, passing his half smoked cigarette to her through the hatch with a smile. “Morning Maude. Did we lose Doug?”
“Ernest,” Olive teased, looking out at where Dougie had just been standing with the boys. “He was just here, I’m not sure where he is actually.”
“Okay sourpuss, I’m sure he’ll be back soon.” Ev grinned, gesturing to the figure approaching in the fog.
“There he is!” Olive breathed, leaving the truck to meet him halfway.
Val remained in the truck with Tattie, the two brunettes leaning on the open hatch to talk to their friends while Doug had pulled Olive to the side to talk privately.
“Still can’t believe you gave those kids coffee,” Tattie laughed. “Even the slightest bit!”
“Oh stop, my Nonna used to give me coffee when I was their age. It’s nothing.”
“That actually makes a lot of sense.” Jack looked up at her, half smile on his face.
“Oh? And why’s that?”
“Just one of those things.” He shrugged as she passed him his own cup.
“I don’t think much of it. Those kids’ll be drinking it eventually, it may as well come from adults who are watching them.”
“Did your Nonna give Biddick coffee when he was a kid, too?” Helen asked.
“Absolutely not!” Val roared, laughing at the look on Helen’s face. “That boy does not need anything else, he’s hyper enough.”
The laughter of the group filled the foggy space around the truck, casually sipping their morning coffee and picking on the first few donuts that had been set out. Nash looked like it was a privilege to be among the group, sticking close to Helen even though the other boys had done a good job at making him feel welcome.
“Doug! You need smokes?” Ev called from his perch outside the hatch of the Clubmobile. Val was handing him down two packs, not waiting for Doug to answer.
“Thanks Val,” Doug grinned, tipping his imaginary hat at her as he came back from where he was with Olive, the girl now wearing an oversize jacket that Val made a mental note to ask her about later. “You sure know me well.”
“Kind of my job, Dougie.”
He was about to respond, mouth open and eyes wide with what was sure to be a smart ass remark, when Chick Harding’s voice cut through their morning reprieve. The Colonel came marching across the grass, hands on his hips as he stopped in front of the truck.
“Alright you lot, briefings about to start let’s go!”
He waved both Ev and Doug away and into the hut, giving Jack a good natured shove in the same direction. He appraised Nash quickly, the new pilot taking one look at the Colonel and dashing off in the other direction without more than a wave goodbye to Helen.
“Replacement?” Chick looked over his shoulder where Nash had run off, an amused look on his face.
“Yes, Chicky,” Val sighed from the window. “His name is Nash.”
“Valencia…” he warned, all the annoyance of a dad who loved his daughter present as he looked up at her.
His face softened as she placed his coffee on the ledge of the hatch, fixed perfectly, and a second cup for Red Bowman next to it.
“Thank you.” he gave her a half sheepish smile, the brunette in the truck shaking her head at him even as she handed him two donuts.
“That one’s for Red, and here, eat something for Christ sake.”
“We ate already.”
“Don’t lie to us, Chick, I was up early and I saw you and Bowman in the tower, not the mess hall.” Tattie turned on him, her own scowl present.
“Fine, we’ll eat,” he sighed. “Thank you. Now, can I get you girls to close up the truck and come with me please?”
“What?”
“Briefing hut, all of you, please.”
“Chicky…”
“Miss Tattie, we’ll tell ya when you get inside. Now come on.”
Val turned to Tattie, her own face a mirror image, while Helen stood nervously on the grass.
“Alright, you three, let’s close it up for now.” Tattie gestured to the girls, the confusion not ebbing as they followed Harding’s orders.
“Take the dang dog on your way in, would ya? Don’t need him out here unsupervised.”
Val dusted off her jumpsuit before climbing down from the truck, looping her arm with Helen, who was still standing in place on the grass. Olive had run ahead to meet Benny at the door of the briefing hut to take Meatball from him.
“You don’t think…” Helen’s voice was a whisper, and laced with nerves. “Do you think he knows about Nash and me?”
“Oh Helen, if he was mad about that, he wouldn’t tell you in the briefing hut.”
“I mean, I know we’re technically not supposed to have relationships with the men, but we see them every day!”
“Helen, if you think Red and Chicky don’t already know…” Val laughed, remembering how Red’s voice had boomed across the tannoy the night before, hollering for Dougie to get to bed.
“Oh, Bowman has eyes in his ass!” Olive joined their conversation, now with Meatball dutifully at her side.
“Eww!” Helen shuddered with a laugh.
“It’s a stupid rule anyway,” Tattie joined them, coming up on Helen’s other side. “How can they expect us not to get close to these boys!”
“Tattie Spaatz, defying the rules?” Val balked. “Why I never thought I’d see the day!”
“You hush,” she turned to her, voice stern but eyes glimmering with something mischievous. “Come on, let’s see what this is all about hmm?”
The girls entered the briefing hut, all passing by Red at the door as he greeted them with a tight smile.
“Spaatz, DiRosano, Porter, Lewis,” he addressed them all by their last names, only rarely ever using their first names. “Come on in girls.”
They followed him further into the hut, the men around them talking amongst themselves. The chatter in the room filled the large space, all of them seemingly doing their best to ignore that a mission was quite literally looming overhead, and that tomorrow, some of these faces may not be here to laugh with. Val tried not to think about it too hard, especially with so many of the faces being her friends and more.
“Okay, Chick, why are we here?” Tattie’s arms were folded under her bust, and suddenly it was General Spaatz’s daughter staring down Colonel Chick Harding, cigar wedged between his lips and all.
“Need to make sure that dang mutt doesn’t get lost in here again.”
“You hardly need four of us to watch Meatball, he’s not that bad.”
“Alright, fine,” Chick sighed, beckoning the four of them closer. “Bowman, tell em.”
“This is a big one girls,” Red sighed. “And we’re not blind to the fact that some of you have gotten close to some of the men, and we feel it’s unfair to keep you in the dark.”
“How big?” Olive squeaked.
“Big, Lewis. Real big.”
Olive nodded, the hand not holding Meatball’s leash grabbing at Val, her nails digging in unintentionally.
“You know we’ll find out anyway, but you think it’s better if we hear it first hand.”
“Exactly.”
“It doesn’t lessen the worry, Red.”
“No, Valencia, I suppose it doesn’t, but, somewhere along the way you four got under everyone’s skin here and the fellas all love ya, they respect the hell outta ya’s and well, Chick and I feel the same.”
“Chick Harding is going soft, girls.” Tattie smirked, but nodded at the man in front of her just the same.
“I ain’t soft, Spaatz.” He groaned, cigar smoke pluming around him as he spoke.
“Alright Chicky, you’re not soft,” she conceded. “Where do you want us to sit?”
“In the back, if you don’t mind.”
“Come on girls, let’s find some chairs hmm?”
“And no balls!” Chick called after them, prompting a
shrill whine to erupt from Meatball, several of the men in the room turning to look at him, the rumble of laughter and the dog's name filling the room.
Making her way towards the back with the girls, Val doesn’t register the presence of someone behind her until his voice cuts above the rest, loud and full of energy.
“There she is! There’s the gal!”
“My god, Curt, do you ever just, I don’t know, say hello like a normal person?”
“Now why would I do that?” He grinned, pulling her into a hug on the spot.
“No you’re right, why would you.” She rolled her eyes, hugging him back regardless.
“Hey, what are yous doing in here? This ain’t your usual spot.”
“Chicky wanted us in on this one,” her voice now lowered so that only he could hear her. “It’s big, and they don’t want us hearing anything second hand.”
“Well, you gals should be included! You’re damn important if ya ask me.”
“Thanks, Curt, but we’re still only Red Cross. I only know so much because Chicky can’t type to save his life.”
“Yea well, yous should know more,” he grinned, pulling out his cigarettes. “And not just cause me and the rest of the fellas tell you.”
“Curt,” Olive joined them, the pilot throwing an arm over her shoulders in greeting. “Want me to save you a seat?
“Heya English,” he gave her a squeeze before letting her go. “Thanks, but Dickie’s got us chairs up front with your boys.”
“Ah, grand!” Olive gave his arm a friendly pat before tugging on Meatball’s lead to head back to the seats the girls were occupying.
“I’ll see ya after, gal. Have a coffee ready for me!”
“Pain in the ass!” Val called after him as he walked away, taking the seat on the end of a row, Dickie to his right.
Just as Dickie offered a wave from his spot, Val spotted Everett, Doug and Croz in the row behind them, Everett’s hazel eyes going wide at seeing her in the briefing room before spotting the other girls behind her. She shrugged and his brows furrowed, just as the officer at the door called for attention, and every single man in the room stood as Chicky made his way to the front with Red at his side. The girls quickly hurried to the four chairs at the back of the room, Val taking the seat next to Olive, who was trying to settle Meatball. The husky seemed annoyed that all of his friends were in one room and no one would play with him, and kept whining at Olive’s feet. At the front of the room, Chick Harding commanded attention, and Val couldn’t help but feel rooted to the spot as the whole room focused on him. Next to her, Olive was petting Meatball, shushing him as quietly as she could until finally, his head came to rest on her lap.
“What’s up?” Val turned to her, her right hand scratching between his ears.
“He’s just moping because all his friends are here and no one will play.”
At the mere mention of the word play, Meatball began huffing and whining again, looking between Olive and Val to see which one would start their game first.
“Not now buddy,” Olive spoke in hushed tones, trying to keep him quiet. “After, I promise.”
“Meatball…” Val warned, trying her hand at quieting him down. “Stai zitto, questo è importante.”
Be quiet, this is important.
“Aww he’s just a baby,” Helen came from Olive’s other side, reaching for the dog who was now lapping up all the attention. “He doesn’t mean it.”
“Girls,” Tattie’s whisper fell over the three of them. “Quiet, or Chicky is going to regret ever asking us in here.”
“Today, the mighty eighth will be sending up a max effort of three air task forces, totaling 376 heavy bombers and 240 fighters!” Chicky’s voice carried through the room, all of the men cheering like it was a football game. “That’s the largest air armada ever assembled in the history of mankind!”
Val caught the excitement from the corner of the room where her friends sat, both Everett and Doug, and Curt and Dickie shared a shout of excitement before focusing back on the Colonel at the front of the room.
“We will be in the first task force, targeting a Messerschmitt 109 engine assembly plant in Regensburg,” he announced, the men around him scribbling notes. “The second and third task forces will hit the ball bearing factories in Schweinfurt, because no war machine moves without em!”
Val noticed that Chick looked proud, and it was a foreign expression to see on the man. Normally she’d see him grumbling and complaining about this or that, the dog, the coffee and what have you. But this, he seemed infinitely proud of his men, and the Hundredth. When he mentioned that there were an infinite number of lives they could save if this mission went off as planned, the men in the room fell into a hush, talking quietly amongst themselves, presumably to determine who might be leading this, and she couldn’t help but pick up rumbling of both the names Egan and Cleven the most.
Chicky called for their attention, his arm gesturing to the curtain behind him which the Corporal dutifully pulled back, revealing a map, and a route that looked terribly long, at least to her untrained eye. Whistles and groans replaced the hushed awe of just moments ago, and she just picked up on Harry Crosby groaning oh boy as he caught sight of what he would surely have to navigate his crew through.
“Bowman.”
Taking his cue, Red stepped in for Chick, coming to stand in front of the map before he began speaking, his New England accent filling the room as he addressed the men.
“It’s a three punch combo,” he began, arm coming out to trace the first of three colored strings. “And the Luftwaffe will only be able to defend one of them!”
“Uh, Major?” Curt’s voice, quieter than everyone, especially Val was used to, interrupted Red Bowman’s speech. “Why’s that red line go all the way down through Africa?”
“Well, that is a characteristically astute question Curt, and I’ll get to that in a minute if you don’t mind.”
“Yeah yeah, go on and laugh…” Curt groaned, sliding down in his seat as the room broke into peals of laughter.
Val just managed to catch Everett leaning forward in his seat to flick the pencil from behind Curt’s ear in what could only be described as sibling banter, one pilot to another as he mumbled a drawn out fuuuuck you to Curt before both of them turned to see her shaking her head in exasperation. Like a mother whose children had exhausted her, Val pointed up to the front of the room, making sure they both focused on what Red was still talking about- second task force turning around, rearming and refueling, enemy territory, ME109’s until finally, a single sentence put the whole room into near deafening silence.
“You’re going to Africa, gentlemen.”
“Val… Val did he say Africa?”
“Yea, he said Africa, Ol…”
“Dear god,” the Brit whispered from her spot next to her, one hand gripping Val’s with such force, she could feel her leaving small crescents in the skin of her palm, while the other was still buried in Meatball’s fur. “Why…why Africa… it’s so far…”
“Olive, hey, chickie, calm down, it’s alright.”
“I don’t like this.”
Olive was borderline shaking in her seat, her eyes wide as they continued to listen to Red talk about the boys landing in Africa and linking up with the 12th who had promised ice cold beer. A holiday. With the fog outside not letting up, Val couldn’t help but wonder exactly how Chick and Red expected the boys to get up in the air safely, never mind General LeMay and his plan for them. It just didn’t seem safe. Olive’s nerves seemed to confirm that, her fear now on full display in the back of the room.
“Tattie…” Val whispered, leaning over towards her to pinch her arm. “Give me your flask.”
“Val…”
“Give it here, please.” She gestured to Olive, and Tattie handed it over to her after a single glance at the girl, her eyes softening.
“Ol, drink.”
“What?”
“Come on, drink, it’ll settle your nerves.”
Olive takes the flask from her, taking a generous sip before passing it back to Val, who also takes a generous sip. When Tattie pulls it from her grasp with a roll of her eyes, she can’t help but wonder if what she suspects is going on between her and Jack Kidd has her just as rattled. Half expecting her to take a sip as well, Val watches as Tattie slips it back into her pocket before pulling out her cigarettes and lighting one.
“Major Kidd will be command pilot in Blakely’s fort-” Chicky announced.
“Oh god… they’re leading them all into this soup.” Val murmured, dropping her head back.
“Major Egan will be riding with Captain Cruikshank as…reserve command pilot of the group.”
“What the hell is a reserve command pilot?” Helen furrowed her brows, her gentle expression turned somewhat sour.
“I think it means Egan didn’t want to be left out.”
“When does he ever.”
“Gentlemen, good luck, and I’ll see you in a couple of days. Dismissed!”
As the men in the room stand to exit, Tattie stands and begins leading the girls from the hut, and like ducks in a row, they follow her. Olive is behind Val, one hand holding Meatball’s lead and the other still gripping onto Val’s wrist; mostly so she didn’t get lost in the shuffle of bodies leaving the room. As they approach the door, she spots Ev waiting for her, arms folded over his chest, cigarette between his lips, cheeky grin on his face.
“And why were you four in there?” He throws his arm over Val’s shoulder as she approaches, guiding her out of the hut as Dougie does the same with Olive.
“Chicky invited us…”
“He did? Why?”
“Said we deserved to know about this one.” Her voice sounded small, and so unlike her, even to her own ears.
“And now that you know?” Ev stopped just outside the truck, taking her hands in his.
“It’s Africa, Everett…”
“Yeah,” he sighed, and could feel her anxiety over the situation rolling off her in waves. This is why he felt the way he did about her being in the briefing room the last time, except now, Colonel Harding had asked her to be in there and he could hardly fight it. “I can’t say I’m thrilled with the location either.”
“It’s bad enough when you’re up for a few hours, but this? Days?”
“Hey, come here,” guiding her off to the side of the truck, behind the open doors off the back, he hoped she’d tell him what was really eating at her. “Talk to me, what’s going on hmm?”
She wasn’t sure if she should tell him about the dream from that morning. About how she dreamt of their future, their child, but that something -someone- was missing entirely from that almost perfect scenario. In telling him, would she be giving that nightmarish fear of losing her oldest friend an escape from her mind and setting it loose upon reality? Would it scare him? Make him more nervous than he already was? Or, would it give him more reasons to fight, and fly so safely and smoothly that he’d come back to her, and lead the rest of their friends home safely too?
“Want you to take this,” she chose against the former, reaching into the collar of her blouse and instead, pulling out her new dog tags. “One for you and one for me.”
“You have tags now?”
“Got them this morning,” she confirmed, yanking the lower hanging one from the chain. “I can’t go up with you, so this is the next best thing.”
“You know I take you up with me every time, right?”
“In your heart, the same way Curt told me he takes me up with him, yes.”
“Yes, in my heart,” he grinned, taking the tag from her hand and swiftly pulling his own out from his collar. “But also, in the red braid you’ve so securely tied to my wrist.”
He pulled his own extra tag from his chain, putting the one with her name in its place before handing her the one with his name. Blakely, Everett E. The significance of carrying each other's names wasn’t lost on her, and she knew that if he was giving her back the same weight that her name carried to him, with his own, that there was stock to be taken in that dream. More stock in the good, and less in the fears she was projecting in losing someone she loved.
“Also, I do take you with me,” he tucked his tags back into his shirt, before pulling out a small photograph from the breast pocket of his flight suit and handing it to her. “See? You go everywhere with me, baby.”
It was a photo she hadn’t ever seen of herself before, but could tell you exactly where it had been taken. The night in the officers club after Curt had been announced safe in Scotland- one too many cocktails had her perched comfortably in Ev’s lap, but he wasn’t in the picture. It was just her, and she was looking over at someone else and grinning, her bottom lip snugly between her teeth as she tried not to cackle with laughter, her eyes dancing with mirth.
“When did you sneak this?” She looked up at him, the picture between two of her fingers in place of her usual cigarette as she waved it in his face, eyes and lips mimicking the frozen image of herself.
“Don’t you worry about when,” Ev plucked it back from her, tucking it safely away over his heart, and then pulled her close. “Just remember, you’re with me every single day, even if I’m not on the ground.”
“Please,” pressing her face into his chest, breathing him in, committing it to memory. “Please don’t do anything stupid, and protect each other, all of you.”
“You know I won’t get reckless,” he pressed his lips to the crown of her head, uncaring of the hairspray she had set it with. “I’ve got too much at stake here on the ground to risk getting reckless.”
“As much as it pains me to say it, listen to Jack.”
“I will… you behave here while I’m gone, yeah? No getting up to mischief with the girls.”
“No promises.” She grinned, peeking up at him before standing on her toes to press her lips to his.
“Yeah, even in this soup I saw that coming a mile away,” shaking his head, he kissed her back, knowing that time was ticking away and his crew would be heading for the hardstand soon. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Pulling away, they turned to head back to the front of the truck so that she could carry on with work and he could get his coffee before leaving, when Curt rounded the corner wild eyed and looking for trouble.
“There ya are! Oh, Val!” He called in a singsong voice. “You promised me a coffee!”
“You demanded coffee,” giving his shoulder a shove, he let out a y laugh at her fiery behavior. “There’s three other girls in the truck, Curtis.”
“Curtis?! Ouch!”
“Serves you right.”
“I’d like to be served coffee, maybe a donut for good measure.”
“You are a pain in my ass, you know that?”
“Yeah I know,” he grinned. “Are you good? Is she good?”
Yeah, I’m okay,” Val nodded. “Are you okay?”
“Oh yeah, I’m good… got my bracelet and everything,” lifting his wrist; he wiggled it so both Val and Ev could see . “It broke the other day but I tied it back on.”
“CURT! No! You’re not supposed to, you know that!”
“It’s fine, gal!”
“I don’t have time to make you a new one…”
“You don’t gotta, it’s fine!”
She knew the distress on her face was evident when Everett stepped between her and Curt. She watched as he dropped a hand to Curt’s shoulder fixing him with a look that said he ought to know better than to mess around with what Val considered to be sacred.
“Curt, even I know you don’t mess around with that.”
“Ah, it’s not the first time I tied it back on myself, won’t be the last,” Curt grinned, slipping out from under Ev’s grip and heading to the window of the Clubmobile. “Now how about that coffee for the road?”
With a roll of her eyes at Curt and a quick kiss to Ev’s cheek, Val climbs back into the truck where Helen is pouring coffee and passing out smokes and snacks to the boys lined up dutifully at the window. Tattie is a few feet away on the grass trying to pry Olive and Dougie apart with a soft smile, knowing they both have jobs to do regardless of the nervous energy swirling around the base. She hears Olive tell Doug that she’ll fix him a snack for the road, and sets about doing the same for Everett and the rest of the Just A Snappin crew.
“Ev, what do you and the crew need for the trip?” She leans out the window, handing him another coffee and a donut. She knows that like many of the boys, he’s not the biggest fan of the powdered eggs, and usually chooses not to eat them before a flight. “Curt! Get out of the truck!”
“How’d you even know it was me?” He grumbled, jumping down from the back of the truck to join the rest of the guys on the grass. DeMarco, who had been walking towards the truck with his crew, turned and raised his coffee in a salute, laughing at the put out look on Curt’s face.
“Busted, Biddick!” Benny shouted.
“Okay, okay. You,” Val gestured to Curt, holding out two coffees, and gesturing with a nod of her head to the two donuts on the window. “Take these, and the donuts, they’re for you and Dickie.”
“Thanks gal! Love you!” He grinned,grabbed his provisions, and blew her a cheeky kiss before running off to join his crew, uncaring of the coffee sloshing over the side of his cup.
“A mess,” she shook her head. “Now, what do you need, handsome?”
“You gave me smokes before,” he smiles, lifting the coffee to his lips. “Not sure what the rest of my boys need though, and I know Olive has Dougie all squared away.”
“Well, take another pack of smokes, and if the crew needs anything, send em over.”
“Thanks baby,” he grinned, turning to face the rest of the men on his crew with a soft authority that Val knew was the reason they all respected him so much. “Alright boys, if you need anything, go see Val so she can set you up!”
————————————————————
“Meatball, no! Uh, Olive a little help please?”
Looking out the window, Val found Helen on the ground, Meatball pawing at her excitedly as he mistook her securing him to the pole for playtime. The poor girl was dusting off his fur and trying not to sneeze as Olive came around the front to help her, laughing as she pulled the husky from Helen’s lap.
“Helen, you know how he gets…”
“He only listens to you and DeMarco.” She grumbled, wincing as Meatball let loose a howl at the mere mention of his favorite human’s name.
“Oh now look what you started,” Val groaned. “You know saying Benny’s name gets him all wild.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry.” Helen sighed, standing and trying to get all the grass and husky fur off her uniform. “Meatball, he can’t hear you from here boy!”
“He doesn’t know that.” Olive chuckled, securing the leash just as a jeep came to a screeching halt, startling the girls and the dog.
“Garcia,” Val addressed the man behind the wheel, lighting a cigarette and coming around the front of the truck to join Helen and Olive. “What can we do for you?”
“Just stopping by to let you know the fellas have got a thirty minute delay.”
“Not surprising in this shit.” She gestured to the fog still swirling around them.”
“If you girls wanted to drop them another hot coffee and cheer em up… maybe say goodbye again.” He suggested, gesturing subtly to the empty seats in his jeep.
“Say less!” Olive grinned, unhooking Meatball and guiding him towards the jeep.
“Give me two minutes, let me put a bag together for them.” Val smiled, turning back towards the truck. She had two coffees and a bag of donuts ready in record time, jumping into the jeep with Olive as Tattie and Helen waved them off from the Clubmobile with a smile.
“Step on it Garcia!” Val calls up to him with a laugh. “They’ll take the news better if it comes from us!”
“You got that right, DiRosano,” he laughed. “They sure like looking at you two more than they like looking at me!”
Without another word, Garcia steps on the gas, the jeep and its occupants beginning their journey through the mist. Meatball whined from his spot between Olive and Val, no doubt picking up the scents of all the fellas who had been driven out the same way on their trucks only a short while ago. Even with the headlights on, the road ahead was barely visible, and Val wasn’t sure how Garcia was managing it, maybe it was muscle memory, but she just hoped he got them to the hardstand in one piece.
“It’s a real pea-souper, this one.” Garcia huffed, turning to avoid the hardstand of another fort that Val wasn’t able to identify. “Do you reckon they’ll call it off?” Olive practically begged, hoping for the answer she wanted to hear. “Not a chance, Lewis,” he sighed a bit apologetically. “This is a big one. Brass are taking a lotta risks and–well, I’d better zip it.” “It’s nothing I won’t find out in a few weeks when I’m typing reports for Chicky,” Val retorts, reaching around to pet Meatball. “No need to keep it quiet.”
“Sorry, Val, force of habit to zip my lips and all…”
“It’s fine, Garcia, we know. We were in the briefing room this morning.”
“Yeah? God, The Brass must really like you ladies… I think everyone on this base likes you ladies actually.”
Not sure what else to say, the trio continues to drive in silence, Garcia seeming to have run out of polite conversation within a few moments. The brakes screech as they come to a stop, and Val looks up to find the all too familiar silhouette of Just A Snappin looming in the distance, the plane somehow even more intimidating now, as opposed to the night she had been out here with Everett, and only the headlights of a jeep illuminated her. The fog almost completely covered it, and even though she could just see the nose in the distance, it felt tremendous.
“Alright you three, this is your stop.”
“Thanks Garcia!”
Jumping from the jeep, careful of the coffees in her hands, donuts having been passed to Olive earlier, she watches as Meatball bounds away into the mist, the dog gone in a flash.
“Damnit, where’d he go!”
“Probably to find DeMarco…”
“Great, that’ll be fun later.”
“Maybe Kenny and Wink will find him before we do.” Olive chuckled, looping her arm through Val’s as they began walking closer to the fort.
“Chickie, I can see through this haze just as well as you can.” “This is so we don’t lose each other.” Olive laughs in return, resting her head on Val’s shoulder for a short second. “Ol, that’ll never happen. I promise.” Val smiled, though Olive couldn’t see it, and dropped her head to her friends for a moment.
They walk silently, arm in arm and careful not to bump a tire, or the wing as their steps take them closer to the fort. Val catches a glance of Olive trying, in vain, to wrap her jacket around her with her free hand, and realizes she’s never seen Olive wearing it before. It’s too big for the other woman, and littered in various patches and insignias. Yes, it must belong to Douglass.
“Dougie’s?” Val asks, gesturing with her elbow to the jacket. .
“Yeah! Sewed all these on himself,” Olive beams at her. “Ain't it neat?”
“He…he did…Sewed…himself?” Val practically balks, turning to Olive with her eyes wide.
“Yeah!”
“Ol, I've been sewing all of his patches and clothes!” Val exclaims, green eyes wide. “Ever since Ev and I started seeing each other, I’ve taken care of all the guys in their fort.”
“Oh?”
“Wait till I get my hands on him...” She sighed as they approached the fort, ducking under the wing to find both their men, and select members of the crew laying about on the hardstand.
“Well lookie here!” Dougie exclaimed, standing as he spotted the girls approaching. Ev, who had been leaning back against the wheel, scrambling to stand upon spotting Val. “What are you two doing all the way out here?”
“Garcia wanted us to share some news.” Olive grinned, glancing at Val.
“Yeah? Well, let’s have it then.”
“Thirty minute delay!” They both yelled at the same time, Olive doing a little wiggle of her hands and hips to try and make it entertaining.
Both boys immediately fell into laughter, even Charlie Via joining in from where he was still on the ground. Somehow, Val knew it wasn’t just about making their boys laugh, but the whole crew.
“Is The Clubmobile serving snacks and putting on a show now, Maude?” Everett grinned, throwing an arm over Val’s shoulder as she kissed him on the cheek, his coffee still in her hand.
“Hey, get it for free while you can.” Olive winked, taking Dougie’s coffee from Val and handing it over. “Olive and The Clubmobile Gals,” Val smiled. “It’s got some jazz to it!”
“You gonna be a star, Maude? Take care of all of us?”
“You bet, Ernest.” She laughs as Dougie wraps his arms around her waist and gives her a squeeze before stopping in his tracks at the wild look Val is giving him.
“Uh, Val?”
“I’ve got a bone to pick with you James Douglass…”
“Uhm, can you leave my bones? I need to drop bombs in a few hours and well, I need them.”
“Oh, you’re in trouble baby.” Olive titters, hand covering her mouth in an attempt to hide her giggle.
“You! Sewing!”
“Oh… yeah, heh… well, I know when I’ve been caught.”
“Dougie! I’ve been sewing all your clothes and patches for months now!”
“I know,” he laughs at Val’s annoyed expression, and she can see the gears turning behind his eyes. “It just makes me feel safer when you do it.”
Val’s face softens immediately, falling back against Ev once more as Olive lets out an aww at Doug’s confession. How could she argue with that?
“Aw, darling, that's so sweet!” Olive kisses his cheek softly, unable to hide the affection for him in that moment.
“The puppy dog eyes work every time.” Doug smiled down at her, thinking that Val was preoccupied with Everett.
“You’re a little shit, Doug!” She hollered from where she stood, Ev pulling her aside so that they could have a quiet moment, while Olive and Doug did the same.
“So…Garcia really drove you two all the way out here?”
“He did. He thought you might need another hot coffee, or a kiss goodbye.”
“He said that?”
“Well, not in such a way, but, yes.”
“So you brought me hot coffee and a kiss hmm?”
“I did! Are you happy?”
“Well, all I got was a kiss on the cheek, but maybe if you-”
Val wasted not a moment longer before leaning up on her toes to reach Everett’s lips, neither caring if her Victory Red stained his own lips, she just wanted to feel closer to him.
“Better?”
“Much better,” holding her against his chest, she felt him press his nose into her hair, and just barely heard the sound of him taking a deep breath, as if he was committing the scent of her to memory. “You know I love the real thing.”
“You mean my lipstick smudged all over you.”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
“Fresh,” she wiped at his lip with her thumb, her movements slowing as she tried to force herself to believe that he would come back to her. “I can’t send you off to Africa with lipstick all over your mouth.”
“No I don’t suppose it would be a good look would it.”
“Bring me back something?” She posed the question lightly, casually, as if he had said he was going to the corner store and she asked him to get her an ice cream bar.
“Not sure what they have in Africa, but, I’ll see what I can rustle up.”
“Thanks handsome.” She winked, and was about to kiss him again when the sound of someone approaching caused her to stop short.
“I thought I heard yous girls!”
“Hi Curt,” she turned and flashed him an impossibly tight smile, and he knew he had just interrupted a potential kiss, like any good brother would. “Yes, you heard us.”
“What are ya doing out here hmm?”
“Garcia drove us out so we could tell the boys about the delay.”
“Jeez Blakely, you get the news from two pretty ladies and I gotta hear it from Garcia? What gives!”
“Get yourself a pretty Red Cross girl, Curt, and maybe you won’t have to see Garcia every time there’s a delay,” Ev laughed, slapping his friend on the shoulder before walking away. “I’ll give you both a minute, yeah?”
“Thanks honey.”
“Yeah, thanks honey!” Curt called after him, only to be met with Ev Blakely’s middle finger.
“You deserved that.” Val gave him a gentle shove.
“Yea I know,” Curt grinned, wrapping his arm around her waist and hugging her close. “This is some soup…”
“Reminds me of the fog that rolls in off the water back home.”
“Always spooked me as a kid.”
“Still gives me the chills now…”
The pair stood there under the cover of Just A Snappin’s wing, silent as the mist swirled around them, trying to find something in the distance that wasn’t obscured in haze. She wasn’t sure how to say goodbye for this particular flight. Usually, Curt would snatch his coffee from her, give her a cheeky goodbye and run to the truck, much like he had done earlier. But this time, that dream was weighing on her again, and she didn’t know if it was just a fear, or a premonition.
“What’s eating ya?”
“Hmm?”
“I know when somethings bugging ya, so come on, let’s hear it.”
“It’s nothing,” she dismissed his prying, not sure how he’d react if she told him. “Silly, really.”
“Tell me, cause I ain't gonna be able to go up there knowing you’re down here upset over something.”
“I had a really strange dream last night…”
“Okay, well, I bet it’s not all that strange,” he softened at the expression on her face. “You wanna tell me about it?”
“It was like, I was watching my life in front of me, after the war. There was a house, and Everett, and…”
“And?”
“And a baby…”
“Gal, that ain’t anything to be so worried about! That sounds like a pretty good life to me!”
“It was… until you weren’t there.”
“I wasn’t?”
“No, at least, I don’t think so… Ev was talking to the baby, and I just remember that he said that I missed you a lot, and that sometimes I got sad.”
“Hey, if you’re worried that you and Blakely are gonna go and tie the knot and I ain’t gonna be around anymore, well, I got news for ya…”
“You better be around, Curt,” she turned to him, eyes filled with tears she was afraid to shed in front of him. “Nothing stupid up there, okay? I mean it!”
“I promise ya, I’m coming back.”
“I love you, you pain in the ass…”
“I love ya too…”
She pulled him close, arms wrapped tightly around his neck as she completely disregarded his gear, mae west, and jacket to hold her friend just a little longer. For once, Curt didn’t try and joke with her, or brush her off for being worried. The weight of this mission, the length of it, the time away, it had everyone a little on edge. So he hugged her back just as tight. The way he did when she had her heart broken back home, or when her Nonno passed away when they were teenagers; the way he always would for as long as they had each other.
“I wish you had let me braid you a new bracelet…” She mumbled into his neck.
“This one’s still good, I know it,” he gave her a gentle squeeze before pulling away to see her face. “Cause you made it, and it’s got all the eye-talian luck in the world.”
“My mother would crack you good for that.”
“What? Tying it back on, or saying Italian the way I did?”
“Both.” She laughed, wiping at her eyes.
“Hey, wipe those eyes, alright? I’ll be back before ya know it.”
“You better, because it takes too long to break in a new best friend.”
“You got that right gal…”
He hugged her one final time before stepping back, and with a wink, disappeared into the mist.
She sucked in a sharp breath as he walked away, only turning back towards the fort once she could no longer see him. Even the way he said goodbye had her feeling eerie. Christ, she hated this god damn soup. She tried to swipe at her eyes so no one would know she had been crying, but it was no use as Everett stood from his spot on the ground to meet her halfway.
“Okay?”
“Nope,” she admitted, knowing that he had seen her face and it would be useless to try and hide it from him. “But, I will be. I just…”
“You say goodbye?”
“It sounds so final.”
“It’s not,” he reassured her, hugging her against his side as he walked her back towards their friends. “It’s just temporary.”
“Yea, Africa and back.” She groaned.
“Come on, come sit.”
“Ev…”
“I’ve got a riddle? Would that cheer you up?”
“A riddle?”
“Yup!”
He takes his previous spot on the ground next to Doug, gently tugging her down until she’s sitting between his spread legs, her back to his front; the two of them fit snugly together like a puzzle piece. Just as he’s about to speak, Dougie raises a hand to stop him, gesturing to Croz who’s laying next to them, head propped up on his bag and briefcase, crush cap covering his face.
“Let him sleep!” Val hisses, knowing that he’d need his rest just as much as the rest of them, if not more with his airsickness.
“Nah.” Doug grinned wickedly before furiously tapping on the navigator's leg to wake him.
Croz grumbles and wakes with a light snort, his brow furrowed and face painted in annoyance as he spots Doug grinning next to him.
“What, Doug?” “Ev’s gonna tell us a riddle!” “You woke me up for a riddle?” “I figured your brain could use the exercise.” Dougie teased him, the girls laughing as Crosby swatted at him.
“Alright, fine,” Harry sighed over dramatically. “Go on, Blakely, the floor is yours.”
Ev takes a drag from his Lucky Strike before beginning, clearing his throat and indulging in the dramatics for the sake of his audience before he speaks. “You’re on the way to purgatory–” “Purgatory?” Olive cuts him off, eyes wide. “Yes, Maude, purgatory,” he nods. “You’re on the way to purgatory; one road goes to Valhalla, the other goes to Hell, damnation.”
“Uh huh?” Croz leans forward, his tired face now clouded with confusion and curiosity.
“On each of the roads, is a goblin-”
“A goblin?” Olive cuts in again, trying to stifle a giggle. “Ernest, where is this going?”
“If you’ll let me get through more than one line, English, you'll find out,” he sighs, making a face at her. “Anyway! One goblin always tells the truth, the other is a tricky little fucker, he always lies.”
“An imp!” Olive chuckles, catching Val’s eye.
“Birichino,” she offers up, winking at Ev. “That's what Ma calls Curt.”
“What’s the one question that you need to ask, that’s gonna tell you the right way to go?” Ev finished, pulled Val closer so he could rest his chin on her shoulder.
“Would you ask them which is the good goblin?” Olive turned to Ev after a moment of pondering.
“I was about to say that!” Croz crowed, frisbeeing his crush cap at her with a laugh.
“You snooze, you lose, Harry!” Olive grinned as she threw the cap back at him.
Val watched her friend's playful banter; Croz feigning injury at Olive’s throwing of his hat, while Dougie held her close and nuzzled into her for as long as he could. Behind her, Ev was laughing, his grip on her tight as he held her close and continued to soak up every moment he could on the ground with them.
“Okay, okay! I’ve got one!” Doug announced, grin wide as he caught Olive’s eye.
“You have a riddle?” Val raised her brow at him, her fingers fumbling in Ev’s pocket for his lighter as she placed a cigarette between her lips .
“Yup!”
“Well then, regale us with your riddle, Doug!” She grins, passing the now lit cigarette over to Olive.
“What's the difference between a hippo, and a–”
“And a zippo?” Ev finished with a laugh. “Dougie, we've heard that one a thousand times now, pal.”
Even though they’ve all heard the joke multiple times, Olive begins to giggle, which makes Doug smile.
“Yeah, but that’s why I tell it,” he grins. “To see the prettiest smile in East Anglia.”
“I love it,” Olive titters, reaching up to kiss him. “Never stop telling it, okay?”
“I know you do,” he winks, kissing her back just as lovingly. “And I love y–”
“Hey! That a flare?” Croz abruptly ends their sweet moment, his eyes narrowing as he tries to make sense of the blurry green light in the distance that's now plummeting to the ground.
“Time to go fellas.” Ev commands with a groan, his crew jumping up at his tone.
He stands, pulling Val with him, and immediately pulls her in and kisses her. They’re vaguely aware of his crew scrambling to get up and into the fort around them, shouts of men and the sound of gear being chucked into the belly of Just A Snappin as he held her for just a moment longer.
“Come home, please.” Val whispered as they broke for air, foreheads pressed together.
“Nothing could keep me from you,” he pressed his cheek to hers before his lips pressed to the shell of her ear. “When I get back…”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah… I’ll find us somewhere.”
“I love you, and not just because…”
“I know. I Love you too,” he pressed his lips to hers once more, her arms tightening around him until she’s sure she could hear his ribs clicking. “Now go, it’s going to get busy down here in a minute. And windy.”
Pulling away, she gave him one final squeeze before she joined Olive at the edge of the hardstand, the pair of them immediately gripping onto each other's hand, watching as Doug, and finally Everett, pulled themselves up and into the fort. It wasn’t until they could see Doug in the nose and Ev in the cockpit that they wavers before they began to walk back to the Clubmobile. Helen and Tattie were no doubt wondering where they were.
“You heard that, right?” Olive’s grasp on her hand tightening. “What Dougie said before the flare went up, you heard it?”
“Oh, I heard it, Val giggles, stopping and turning on the spot as the sound of Meatballs’ harness jingles in the distance before he joins them. “He loves you!”
“I didn't think–” Olive fumbles for the leash, grasping it finally and holding on tight.
“Olive Lewis!” She pulls on her friend's arm, the Brooklyn of her accent really adding an extra umph to Olive’s name. “I will give you a slap.”
“I'm not… I just…”
“We can all see how much he loves you and how much you love him too!” Val sighs. “You'd have to be blind to not notice it.”
“Are we really that obvious?”
“Limpido come il giorno.”
“In English, please.” Olive rolls her eyes.
“It’s as clear as day.” Val winks, continuing on with their walk.
—————————————————————-
By the time the girls returned to the truck, all the forts had gone up and Thorpe Abbotts was bathed in almost near silence. If you didn’t count Meatball barking as soon as he saw Helen and Tattie sitting outside. Helen is coughing over a cigarette again, while Tattie puffs away unbothered, Olive wasting no time in stomping over to Helen and snatching the cigarette from her.
“Would you stop!”
“I can’t seem to get the hang of it.” Helen sighs, not even fighting Olive.
“Then don’t, silly! You’re only making yourself sick!”
Helen is about to reply when the sound of a group approaching behind the Clubmobile get louder, and Rosie and his crew break through the fog, some of the men kidding with each other until they spot the four women. Nash immediately breaks away from his friends to join Helen, the brunette suddenly no longer worries about arguing with Olive over the cigarettes. Rosie stops by the truck, Tattie now inside as she peers down at him, while Pappy has gravitated to Olive, pulling Speas with him.
“Hiya boys!” Tattie calls down to them, cigarette in hand as she picks up what’s left of the morning’s donuts and brings them to the window. “Last few donuts are yours if you want them!”
“Thanks Tattie.” Rosie smiles up at her, shaking his head as he spots Nash already engaged in deep conversation with Helen.
Val is in the middle of listening to Pappy go on about how he’s already written to his mother to tell her about his long lost cousin, Olive, when Tattie yells from the window of the Clubmobile with a smile.
“Hey girls! Whaddya say we name this ole girl,” she pats the side of the truck. “A lot of other Clubmobiles in England are naming their trucks.”
“Yeah? Where’d you hear that, Tat?” Val yelled back.
“Got a copy of The Sinker,” she clarified, a newsletter that was put together by Red Cross gals for Red Cross gals. “A couple of the other Red Cross girls are naming their trucks, thought we should too!”
“What should we name it?” Helen turned from her conversation with Nash just as Val and Olive walked over to join them, Pappy and Speas right behind.
“What about something to do with the state you girls are from?” Pappy offered.
“Pappy, really?” Olive turned to him, arms folded over her chest. “I don’t have a state.”
“Oh, right…”
“Tat? Any suggestions?”
“Hmm, ‘Do-Nut Enter?”
“What about All Things Nice?” Helen offered with a shrug. “We’ve got the sugar on the donuts, Val’s the spice, we’re all things nice!”
“Why thank you Helen!”
“Olive, any ideas?” Helen turned to her just as she moved to give Meatball a little love, the husky whining in protest of Helen’s suggested name, his head lolled to the side as Olive got his favorite spot behind his ears.
“I got nothing,” she sighed. “My brain is fried.”
“That would be the lack of sleep,” Tattie fixed her with a look and a wink, the woman giving way to the fact that she knew Olive wasn’t sleeping well as of late. “I’ve got my eye on you, English.”
“I’ve got it! Something to do with Meatball!” Val exclaimed, eyes bright as the dog perked back up at the mention of his name. “Yes, you, you silly dog…”
“But what?” Olive looked between them, brows furrowed as she tried to come up with something.
“What about Spaghetti n’ Meatball!” Val grinned, eyes bright as she turned to survey her friends for their reaction.
“Oh, that’s precious!” Olive practically squealed, looking between everyone else. “Don’t you all think?”
“Spaghetti n’ Meatball it is.” Tattie grinned with a soft smile and a shake of her head, Helen readily agreeing with a bright smile.
They had corralled Kenny and Wink into helping them paint the side of the Clubmobile with the promise of hot coffee and a fresh batch of donuts. Billy and Sammy had followed them back to the truck when they found out that they were going to see Miss Val and Miss Olive, the promise of donuts making the two boys run at the speed of light. They had settled with Meatball almost immediately, the Husky basking in all the extra attention he was getting, while the boys got to work on painting the new name on their Clubmobile. The girls had sent Rosie and Pappy off in search of something that could be used as a ribbon- if we’re going to do it might as well do it right- while Nash had stayed glued to Helen’s side as she cleaned up inside the truck with Val.
“Miss Val?” she looked down and saw Sammy was looking up at her. Ev liked to tease her that little Sammy had a crush on her.
“Yes Sammy? How can I help you?” She grinned with a flourish, making sure that she paid him a little extra attention just to see him smile.
“Could we have another coffee like this morning, please?”
“More coffee, hmm?” She pretended to ponder it, looking around the inside of the truck to see if there was anything left for them, when she spotted a D bar off to the side, and some milk that would end up being tossed if it wasn’t finished. “How about I make you something else? Something better than coffee?”
“There’s something better than coffee?” Billy had joined him, abandoning his post next to Meatball.
“When I was your age, absolutely!”
“What is it?”
“Hot chocolate,” she winked, picking up the candy bar and waving it in front of her face. “Best thing in the world.”
“COOL!” They shouted, and she knew that they would take anything she made for them, simply because they loved her and the other girls so much.
So while Val set about warming the milk and making a treat for the boys, both of them dutifully back on either side of Meatball, Kenny came up to the truck. Wiping his hands on his coveralls, he snatched a donut from the tray on the window, popping it in his mouth with enough exaggerated flair that had Val shaking her head.
“Hey! You didn’t ask Miss Val!” Billy looked up at Ken.
“That’s alright, me and Miss Olive have an agreement.”
“What do you mean you have an agreement?” Val looked down at him as she ceased breaking apart the candy to mix with the warm milk. “Olive, what does he mean?”
“Nothing, it’s nothing,” she brushed her off. “Just Kenny being Kenny.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s nothing!”
“Okay, I’m sorry…”
The topic is quickly dropped as Helen and Tattie come back to the truck trailing what looks like toilet paper, mischief in their eyes, as Rosie and Pappy trailed behind them looking like the accomplices Val was positive they had been.
“We have a ribbon!”
“We have toilet paper…” Val laughed.
“It’s the best we could do.” Tattie laughed, her and Helen stretching it from one side of the truck to the other.
‘I feel like I committed treason…” Pappy shook his head, eyes downcast.
“I doubt you committed treason, Pappy,” Val laughed, coming out of the truck with the drinks for the boys, just as Chicky approached the Clubmobile. “If anything you got up to no good.”
“Alright girls, who’s twenty-two sheet ration did you take for this?” He drawls, cigar in hand as he gestures to the toilet paper ribbon.
“Yours, sir,” Tattie grins at him, knowing that he won’t say anything as she gives him a cheeky smile. “On three…”
Tattie gestures for Chicky to “cut the ribbon” on their official ceremony, but just as she gets to three and he reaches to rip the toilet roll, Meatball jumps up from where he’s been sitting and tears into the toilet paper, wrestling the sheets to the ground with a growl.
“Meatball!” Everyone groans, peals of laughter spilling out into the open as the husky looks terribly pleased with himself. Even Chicky gives the dog a laugh, the moment seeming to be just what they all need after the morning.
—————————————————
The Officers Club is practically empty, and it sends a chill through Val as she looks around the room. There’s a few men milling about, and the band is only a handful of men tonight, the music low and slow simply to fill the silence. Chicky and Red are off by the bar, the pair of them deep in conversation, as the girls take up their usual spot, Rosie and Pappy, Nash and Speas filling the seats that were usually occupied by Everett and Doug and the rest of their friends. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Rosie and his boys- quite the opposite as he filled her with this familiarity that only came with home- but she would have preferred that the four new faces filled in the gaps with the faces currently somewhere in Africa.
On top of all the anxiety and worry, Olive seemed to be on edge and she couldn’t pinpoint why. Granted, Doug being so far away and for more than their usual mission time was contributing to it, as she felt very similar with Everett being gone, but this was something else. This was something she wasn’t saying, and that worried her just as much as the boys being gone. Olive had gone pale before turning to face the boys at their table, the words seeming to confirm to Val that there was in fact, a secret.
“Fellas, sorry to be a buzzkill but, I need to talk to the girls,” the words are shaky, and if at all possible, Olive turns even paler. “Alone.” “Sure thing, Miss Olive.” Rosie gives her a gentle smile, standing from his seat before gesturing for the other three men to follow him over to the bar. Pappy remains seated, arms crossed over his chest as he smiles at her, looking between Olive and the rest of the girls.
“You too, Cousin Pappy.” “What? Why!” He protests, and Val can see Olive’s nerves turning into upset. “Because, it’s private.” She starts, gently trying to get him to leave the table. “But, we’re family!” “It’s girl stuff!” The words come out harsh, and Val sees the moment Olive realizes it, a deep sigh leaving the girl as she pinches two fingers at the bridge of her nose.
“Say no more…” He grimaces, the thought of that alone enough to send him running for the bar and away from the table of women.
“Okay, are you going to tell us what’s bothering you?” Tattie lights a cigarette but never falters in fixing Olive with that concerned look that seems to come second nature to her. “You’ve been off all day.” “Well, it’s just uhh…” “Is it the mission? The boys being away for longer than usual? I know this is a few days, and the first time you’ve really worried but-” Olive cuts her off with a shake of her head, the curls Val had pinned for her earlier bouncing vigorously “No, it’s not the mission,” she gasps, unable to catch her breath before speaking again. “There’s something–oh, Jesus Christ…”
“Something, what?” Helen leans across the table, eyes wide.
“I need to tell you something about me, about my life, and I’m worried - terrified - that you all won’t believe me.” “We’ve heard it all, Ol,” Helen laughs, sipping her cocktail. “Oh, I doubt you’ve heard this, Helen.” “Christ sake!” Val yells, gently kicking Olive’s shin. “Spit it out, English!”
“Right, well,” with a deep breath, she turns to Tattie, giving the woman her full attention. “Tattie, you remember how I, quote, appeared suddenly?” “Yes, out of thin air apparently.” “It’s because I was on the hardstand that day. Because I fell out of a fort.” “What were you doing in a fort, Ol?” Helen places her drink down, her brow softly furrowed in confusion.
The girls watch as Olive takes a deep breath in, her face riddle with fear as the next sentence falls from her lips.
“I was in a fort because that’s how I got here,” she whispered, wringing her hands together. “I’m not from here, from this time.” “W-what?” Val feels the confusion begin to fill her, and something else she can’t quite place bubbling beneath the surface. “What do you mean you’re not…”
“I’m from the future,” Olive whispers again, her eyes falling to her hands. “I’m from the year two thousand and twenty one.”
“Excuse me?” Val balks, green eyes wide.
“In my time, I climbed into a model fort because I thought I heard a dog barking for help in there and I fell out, here.” “Olive–” Helen is staring at her in awe, unsure of what else to say, while Tattie simply watches as what appears to be a weight the size of a B-17 falls from Olive’s shoulders. “Does anyone else know?” Val demands, and for the first time, she sees Olive shrink back from her, the worry only growing. “Kenny, and now Benny.” Olive nods, her gaze never leaving her hands. “Before me?!” Val cries, and that something else she had felt bubbling beneath the surface reveals itself to be sadness. “I thought we were friends, Olive.” “We are!” she yells in response as Val stands, tears filling her green eyes, and marches towards the door. “I didn’t know what else to do!”
She’s vaguely aware of Tattie quietly telling Olive not to follow her as she breeches the door and meets the cool night air. The sounds of the club fall silent as the door shuts behind her and she continues on until she reaches the Red Cross hut. There’s no one to walk her back, and almost no one milling about outside to stop and talk to, which gets her back faster than normal. When she’s inside, the door shut, it dawns on her that for the first time all day, she’s alone.
“Sorry Meatball…”
The husky is curled up on her bed, head on his paws as he looks up at her, immediately sensing that something isn’t right with one of his girls. He lets out a whine as she drops down onto the bed to curl up with him, her hands burying themselves in his fur just to stay busy while she tries to stave off the tears she knows are trying to fight their way out. How could Kenny and Benny come before her? Before Dougie, even? And how true was it all really? The future… it didn’t seem possible and yet, something in her gut told her that Olive wasn’t lying about it. It was the part that made the least amount of sense, and should have had her more angry than she was, wanting answers and explanations, but it didn’t matter now. What mattered was that Val had thought for the first time she had a best friend that wasn’t, well, Curtis Biddick. Another girl she could confide her deepest secrets and dreams with, gush over her boyfriend with, but the world hadn’t seen fit to that. It had been made perfectly clear to her that Olive felt different than she did, if Val hadn’t been privy to one of her secrets, when she had divulged one of her biggest to her not even 48 hours prior.
“Can I come in?” Olive’s head comes around the door frame, her knuckles gently rapping against the doorframe even as she opens it. .
“It’s a free country.” Val’s tone is sulky, voice muffled as she presses her face into Meatball’s fur. She catches Olive’s hesitation before she decidedly sits on the bed across from hers.
“I’m sorry,” Olive’s just as quiet as she is. “I wanted to tell you, I just–” “Just what?” Val snaps, sitting up to finally look at her properly, Olive’s eyes filled with tears much like her own. “Decided to tell Kenny and DeMarco before I even got a look in?” “I didn’t tell them, Val. They caught me.” “I’m sorry, what?” “Kenny caught me one night and I couldn’t lie to him,” she sighed. “Truth be told, I’d had one too many that night and didn’t have my wits about me.” “What about DeMarco?” “Meatball gave me away this morning when I was coming back,” Meatball huffs indignantly at the mention of his name in a negative manner, Olive and Val rolling their eyes at him. “Yes, I’m talking about you, silly dog.”
“So you did want to tell me,..”
“More than anything, but I just couldn’t figure out how!”
“So why now all of a sudden,” Val leans over to pull a tissue from her side table, dabbing at her eyes as she continues to seek answers. “Why do this when we’re all so riddled with nerves over this mission?”
“It was getting too risky. There were so many things today that almost gave me up, and I was really starting to feel terrible about lying to everyone.”
“Mhmm…”
“Especially you, Val. You’re my person.”
“I assumed that would be Dougie.” Val’s tone is snarky, but the smile that stretches across her face tells Olive that maybe, just maybe, this is all going to be okay.
“Romantically, he’s my man. But you…” Olive grins brightly at her. “This shit is for life.”
“Best friends?” Val sounds hopeful, the tears finally dry and she thinks that, yes, she hasn’t lost this sweet part of her life.
“Forever.” Olive beams, reaching across to the bunk and taking Val’s hand in hers.
“You know, you’re the first best friend I’ve had that isn’t Curt, and I got scared that maybe it was all too good to be true and you didn’t want to be my friend because I’m too crass or loud, or difficult.”
“Who the hell ever said that about you!” Olive crowed.
“Olive…”
“Oh Val, what did that man do to you hmm?”
Olive sighed, knowing that the version of Val they all got on a daily basis was clouded with self conscious fear of being too much as she was once dubbed, by someone she had thought to care about her.
“I’m sorry for being such a big baby,” she sniffs, shaking her head at her own annoyance. “I just don’t like being left out. And when it came from you, I felt like…well… sad.”
“Does anybody, chicken?” Olive laughs to try and lighten the mood. “Wait, you believe me?”
“Yes, I believe you,” Val nods along with her words, catching Olive’s eyes widened at her confession. “It makes a lot of sense if you think about it. Your hair, nails never done, makeup needing fixing-”
“Yes yes, Helen already ate me up about all that.”
“Ate you up?” A snort leaves Val, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as Olive giggles at the sound.
“Chewed me up and spat me right out!”
“Oh that’s excellent, I love it! Not that she, ‘ate you up’, no the expression! I’ll be stealing that, English.”
“I thought you might like that one.”
It’s a quiet, comfortable silence, the hut filled with only the sound of Meatball’s light snores, as the girls take stock of everything that had unfolded in under an hour. The day itself, the anxiety, their boys somewhere terribly far away as they hoped that they had made it safely, and would return safely. Secrets aired and confessions laid bare as friendships were put to the test. Olive and Val both worried if they would be able to see through to the other side, and yet, it seemed nothing could keep the two women from sticking together through dark days and blue skies.
“Any more secrets you’d like to tell me?” Val squinted at her playfully. “We may as well get it all out in the open now.”
“There’s nothing much to tell, really. Dead dad, abandoned by my mum and raised by Pearl.”
“Oh Ol… me too. The first part.”
“Really?”
“Yes, he passed away when I was very little. I don’t even remember him.”
Was that a blessing, that she didn’t have memories to be twisted painfully? Or was it more painful to not have those memories? She’d never truly be able to decide which side of the coin was easier to deal with.
“I’m so sorry honey,” Olive sighed, and Val knew exactly how she felt. “It’s not a fun club to be a member of, is it.”
“Club?”
“Yes, the dead dad club. I got my badge when I was thirteen.”
“It was always me, mama and Nonna. And then, Curt and Mama Biddick seemed to just fall into place as part of our family.”
“I only ever had Pearl, after. My mum didn’t take it well at all but then, who would?” Val watches as Olive pulls a dainty gold locket from her shirt, gently opening, keeping the two halves closed, it before looking up at her again. “Would you like to see him?”
“I’d be honored.” Val grinned, coming from her bed to perch next to her friend.
Val watches closely as Olive carefully opens the locket to reveal a small, heart shaped photo inside. She’s momentarily stunned by the color photo, but her eyes seem to soften as she takes in the image of the man holding a who she already knows is baby Olive. He looks proud, and positively in love with the small girl in his arms, and suddenly, she realizes that neither side of the coin is easier to deal with. Loss with or without knowing, is still loss, and it still stings something fierce.
“You look just like him, chickie. The same eyes,” she glances up at Olive with a bright smile. “Wow! That’s your dad.” “That’s my dad. My Papa,” Olive breathes on a smile, closing the locket once more and keeping the man inside safe. “He was a sweetheart.” “Do you think he’d approve of Dougie?” “Without a doubt!” She grinned brightly “Both of them have the same silly sense of humor. I’m beginning to think James has a hotline to heaven with those jokes of his.”
“And this? You, here with us?” “I think he would, yes. I think he’d just be happy to see me happy.”
“That’s good…”
“It all scares me silly, Val,” her voice wavered, not unlike the way it had earlier in the club. “He’s gone, and once Pearl goes, I’m all alone.” “That’s twice today you’ve made me want to smack you,” Val scolds, wrapping her arms around her in a hug that takes Olive no time to reciprocate. “You are far from alone, Olive Lewis, who fell out of the sky and into my life. You will always have me, and our little family.” “You’re not just blowing smoke up my arse?” “Would I ever?” Val raises an eyebrow at her in challenge, and Olive immediately laughs at how silly she looks.
“Come on,” Olive suggests, pulling Val up off the bed. “We’d better get back.”
“We left Helen and Tat with those boys didn’t we…”
“We did,” Olive laughs. “Besides, I have something to show you.”
She’s digging in her bag when the door to the hut swings open, Helen and Tattie appearing with smiles on their faces and rosy cheeks. It’s Tattie who looks to have indulged just a bit more than she usually does, leaning on Helen as they enter the hut together.
“What on earth is that thing?” Tattie laughs, pointing at the object Olive had been digging in her purse for.
“Sorry, we wanted to check on you both.” Helen explains, sitting Tattie down on her bed.
“Yeah, the conversation with Rosie and the boys was less than riveting after a while. Ha! Riveting! Get it?”
“Oh Tattie…” Val laughs, coming to sit beside her, pulling her into a one armed hug. “Please don’t ever change, okay?”
“Why would I- hey, what’s that in your hand, English?” The words are slightly slurred, and suddenly all eyes are on Olive.
“What the fuck is that!” Helen exclaims, pointing at the object now sitting in Olive’s open palm. “Olive!”
“This is my proof.” She smiles, hand outstretched so that the other girls could see just what she was holding.
It’s a thin rectangle, shiny, and Olive seems to be taking great care with it. There’s nothing to give away what it might be, but then Olive slides her finger up the front and it lights up, all three girls screaming as if it might bite them right on the nose.
“What is it!” Val looks wild eyed and unsure. “It’s a phone,” Olive explains. “Or as Lemmons likes to call it, a doo-hicke.”
“But there’s no wire! Or buttons!” Helen exclaims, her total soft nature just a bit more emboldened by the alcohol and the mood.
“Well, they don’t make them with buttons or wires anymore in the future.”
“No shit!” Tattie laughs.
“I can’t do much with it here but, I can play some music, and take pictures.” “Pictures on a telephone?” Val shouts, finally standing and grabbing it from Olive in a flurry. “Let me see!”
Olive taps a button, and the screen suddenly changes, and all at once Val is face to face with herself and Olive looking back at her in the small screen.
“Look, it’s us!”
“Oh my god…” Val whispers, turning her head this way and that, the image never faltering, like a mirror. “B-but, how?” “Magic.” Olive replies.
“Magic…wow!” Tattie smiles from the bed, watching as Olive shows Val the mysterious phone. “Take our picture!” Val demands suddenly. “Shit, alright, calm down there DiRosano.”
Olive holds the phone out in front of her, and quickly snaps a picture, laughing at the shocked look on Val’s face as the end result reveals itself to them.
“Oh no, that’s terrible and now you wasted film!”
“There’s no film,” Olive grins, showing Val as she clicks what looks like a small trash can and the photo is gone. “It’s… well, technology is complicated.”
“No film?!”
“None. Here, let’s try again.”
“Okay…”
“Smile pretty, like Ev is looking at you.” Olive teases, and just as she suspected, Val falls into a fit of giggles beside her just as she snaps the photo.
“Well, would you look at that!” Olive proudly shows Val the photo, and her green eyes go wide as she inspects it.
Side by side, laughing together. Just as Val had hoped their friendship would be.
“That’s…oh wow! Olive!”
“Right? Pretty cool!”
“Can we try?” Helen pipes up from where she’s perched next to Tattie.
“Yes, of course!”
And so Olive spends the next hour taking photos of her friends and showing them how to use the camera for themselves. Val is adamant that if everyone on base knew about this, that poor Joe would be out of a job in the officers club each night, but the four girls have sworn to each other not to breathe a word of this to anyone who doesn’t already know.
“How about some music?”
“Let me guess, there’s a teeny tiny Victorla in there?” Val laughs.
“No, it’s, again, complicated.” Olive giggles, picking up a spare glass that’s on the vanity and sitting the phone inside of it.
“A glass?”
“Helps it sound better.”
“Okay then… show us more magic then, English!”
“Yes ma’am Miss Tattie!” Olive mock salutes as she taps on the screen again.
It’s unlike anything Val has ever heard, and yet, she can’t find it in herself to stop bouncing around at all the different songs that Olive plays for them. It’s loud, and some of it is a little harsh, but she kind of likes it.
“You’ll like this singer, Val. Her name is Madonna.”
“Like, La Madonna the Virgin Mary?”
“Yes, like that.”
“Jesus Christ… what an odd name to give your child!”
“It’s not her real name, it’s more of a stage name.”
“Still!”
And then she’s dancing around the hut again, and Olive is singing the words along with the song as she takes her hands and they dance together. Its girlhood at its absolute purest and neither of them can even be bothered to care about how their curls are coming undone and their uniforms are getting wrinkled. They’re simply happy.
“What do you think Ev will like?” Val asks later, quietly curled up next to Olive on one of the bunks. “I’ll bring some of my dads old vinyls from Pearl’s on my next visit back, and we’ll find out!” Olive grins.
“Do you think they’re okay?”
“Ev and Doug? Yea, I do…” Olive sighs, giving Val’s hand a squeeze.
“All of them…”
“Yea, all of them.”
They’re interrupted by a soft snore coming from the other side of the room, Tattie knocked out in her uniform. Helen gently covers her with a blanket, her shoes long since discarded, and with a giggle, holds a finger to her lips to get everyone to shush.
“She’s on to something,” Olive yawns. “I’m knackered.” “Nah-kurred!” Both Val and Helen tease quietly, Val poking Olive softly on the nose.
“Oh leave it, Yanks!” “Oooh, she’s getting bold!” “Yes, now that I know we’re all four of us stuck together forever, I can be myself.” “Good,” Val says, planting a kiss on her cheek as she stands up and moves to her own bunk. “I don’t want to see anymore funny business from you.”
“Ma’am yes ma’am!” Olive gives her a sloppy two finger salute, much the same way that Doug always does.
“You look like Dougie when you do that.” Helen giggled, her pajamas now on as she shuffles beneath her blankets.
“Off to dream of Jimmy Stewart again, Hel?”
“Yes,” she yawns. “Maybe this time Val won’t wake me before I get my big kiss.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Val gets into her own pajamas just as Olive does the same, leaving a soft kiss to the dog tag that bears Everett’s name before taking her rosary into her hands and saying a quick prayer before bed. Just before she turns the lights out, she catches Olive pulling Dougie’s jacket from the end of the bed and put it on over her sleep clothes. She watches as the sweet English girl who fell from the sky presses her nose into the collar. Depositing her rosary, Val picks up the phone carefully and, following Olive’s earlier instructions, takes a quick photo of her curled into James Douglass’ jacket before switching the lights off.
“I love you, DiRosano” Olive whispers, sleep slurring her words. “Love you more, English.” Val grins.
Silently, she says goodnight to Everett, hoping her words and her prayers reach him safely in Africa. That he returns home soon, with his crew and their friends intact. That Curt had kept his promise of not doing anything stupid, and that they’d all be together soon. There was a lot to catch up on.
Part Eight
A/N: Thanks for reading! This series will continue for Blakely & Val, so if you enjoyed this, please like, comment, reblog- whichever is your poison. Feedback is always welcome & my ask box is always open. If you want to be added to my tag list, or removed, let me know!
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Hi Winnie! Can I have 6) overprotective from the December Prompts you posted? ❤️
hi friend!!! I'm so incredibly sorry this took so long. please accept a blurb as an apology 😂 under the cut to save space
overprotective
A clear, blue sky settles above Thorpe Abbotts. Cloudless, with a soft, warm breeze tumbling through it. One of those days that seemed to calm Olive, her chest loose, feeling like she could breathe deeply for the first time in a week. She'd always hated gloomy weather, the cold rain of England making her body tense and her jaw clench, making the excuse that she was trying to fight off constant shivers.
It seems as if the tranquil mood, not only on account of the present weather, was a surprise to James Douglass. He smiled lovingly at Olive as she handed him a coffee, a donut for the Jeep ride to the hardstands and a lipstick smear of a kiss that he was reluctant to wipe away before being shooed into a Jeep by Major Bowman.
“You're calm today, dolly,” Dougie had said, placing his forehead on Olive’s. “Smokey give you something for your nerves?”
“No?” She replies, brow furrowed in confusion. “Val and I, we spoke to Chicky this morning. He calmed our nerves a little…”
***
Olive and her best friend, Valencia DiRosano had been summoned to the office of Colonel Chick Harding earlier that morning. A big smile upon his face as he opened the door, he welcomed them in, pulling two chairs out for them both from his desk. Offering them a smoke, lighting his own fat cigar, Val and Olive exchanged a look of suspicion and a head shake, as if to shake away any bad feelings about this impromptu meeting. It was clocked instantly by Chick, a gruff laugh coming from him that broke the tense silence.
“You're wonderin’ why I've pulled you both in here?”
“Yeah…” Val retorts, tapping her cigarette into the offered ashtray. “I didn't think I was needed here today.”
“You're not,” Chick responds, smoke billowing from his mouth as he talks.
“So…?” Val asks, eyes widening as if to telepathically tell the Colonel to get to the point. Olive, growing impatient, interjects.
“Out with it, Harding,” she sighs. This outburst is obviously unexpected, Chick Harding looking taken aback and Valencia sat next to her, looking like a proud mother. The Brooklynite titters, covering her perfectly painted Victory Red mouth and turns away from Harding.
“I know you saw the light on last night,” he begins, placing his cigar down on the ashtray. “But I wanted to reassure you all that this is only a practice mission. Only a practice,” he enunciates. “Ya hear me?”
“Yes, sir,” the girls reply in unison.
“So, don't worry yourselves. I know what you girls are like, working yourselves up over these men.” He pauses for a second, and leans over in his chair. “It's only a practice,” he repeats, looking between the two girls in front of him. They nod, silently standing up to leave. Val instantly grips Olive’s hand as they walk away, Olive feeling her friend's palm begin to sweat.
“Brooklyn?” She questions. “You okay?”
“Something's up, English.”
“You think he's lying to us?”
“Yes. No. I don't–” she pauses, voice catching with emotion. “God, I hope not,” she says, pulling her rosary from her pocket and clutching it feverently. “I sure hope not.”
***
“He said it was only a prac–” Olive begins to say to Dougie, but her sentence is cut short by a yelled warning from Red Bowman for every fella to make their way to the hardstands. A quick kiss is planted on Olive’s mouth, James trying his best to find just a final moment before he leaves.
“Come home to me,” Olive quickly says, as she always does before her man flies away for hours.
“Nowhere else I'd rather be, honey girl,” he replies, his usual response to those words. “Love ya.”
“Love you more.”
“Douglass, now!” Red calls, a subtle glare shot Olive’s way.
“Jeez, you're tense today, Bowman,” she teases as the final Jeep departs. “Coffee?”
“Yeah…” he replies, staring off into the distance. “Get Spaatz to slip the good whiskey in it, too.”
***
“English, you drive, right?”
“Sure do, Spaatz. Why?”
“Val had the idea of you both driving the truck to greet the boys as they land. Helen and I will set up in the interrogation hut, you and Val set up on the airfield.”
Olive shoots a smile over to Val, who is keenly grinning back. “That's a sweet idea!”
“Knew you'd agree,” Tattie laughs. “Seeing as it's only a practice, there might not be too much hubbub and chaos; a nice surprise that won't put you girls in harm's way.”
Closing the serving hatch of the Clubmobile, Val and Olive clamber into their respective seats. Olive frowns for a moment, trying to get her bearings - she hasn't driven in months, nor ever driven a vehicle of this size.
“You’re sure you can drive this, Ol?” Val asks, seeing Olive anxiously bite her lip.
“Oh, yes, yeah!” She replies, hoping her words sound somewhat convincing. “Truthfully, I've never driven a truck.”
“First time for everything, chickie,” Val laughs, her voice wavering. “I trust you.”
“Good to know,” Olive says, turning the engine over. Tentatively pressing her foot to the pedal, and adding a little more pressure as the engine sputters, she puts the truck into gear. The truck stutters a little, Val and Olive shaken in their seats. “English!”
“That wasn’t me!” She laughs, pressing her foot down again and feeling the wheels turn. She sighs with relief. “Ah, there we go, Brooklyn. We're off.”
Val inhales deeply, breathing out hard through her nostrils. For the second time that day, Olive sees her friend cling to her rosary, mumbling a prayer.
“Jesus, Valencia. I'm not that bad,” Olive shrieks, offended.
“Shh…” she scolds, holding up a neatly manicured finger. “Amen.”
***
“Here they come!” The girls hear, quickly ushering Meatball into the Clubmobile's interior as Kenny and Wink, along with the other ground crew members, begin to take their positions.
“What are they doing?” Val asks, lighting a cigarette. “It’s only a prac–”
Her words are drowned out by the wail of sirens, Olive turning away from the conversation. Her eyes to the expansive blue sky, she sees it covered by a flurry of red flares. Her mouth drops open as a few forts come into land, black smoke billowing from the wings, the rear, the nose.
“Go, go, go!” She hears from in front of her, utter chaos ensuing as everyone on the airfield runs into action. Before she can think fully, Olive herself is running full speed towards Just A-Snappin, her polished boots heavy on the uneven meadow, shallow breaths heaving from her as she exerts herself, the smell of fuel attacking her lungs instantly.
“English, no!” Val screams, beginning to run herself as she spots Everett from a distance.
The two girls run as fast as they're able, Olive soon throwing herself into Dougie's arms.
“Olive, what the fuck are you doing?”
She clings to him, sobbing and wailing as she sees injured men being pulled from forts, puddles of blood forming on the tarmac, airmen coughing and spluttering from fuel fumes.
“Jesus Christ, dolly!” Dougie grabs her by the back of the legs, carrying her to safety. “I need you to close your eyes,” he urges, screams echoing from behind him. “Now, Olive!”
She does as she's told, tears squeezing from her eyes as she open mouth sobs. She is put down gently, James finally pulling her close.
“What were you thinking?” he asks, voice catching in shock. “Why are you down here?”
“How did a practice turn out like that? Was there a navigation issue?” She yells, her words muffled by James’ shoulder and gulps of tears.
“Honey girl, what are you talking about?” He asks, pulling her head from his shoulder to have him look at her. His hands hold her face in front of him, his fingers in her hair just slightly.
“Chicky said–”
“That why you were so relaxed this morning?”
“Y-yeah,” she stutters out, sniffing. “He brought us into his office to tell us not to worry, th-that it was only a practice mission.”
James opens his mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by Red Bowman.
“In the Jeep, Douglass, you need to get to interrogation.”
“Give a me a minute,” he replies, calmly. “Sweetheart,” he soothes, turning back to Olive. He exhales softly through his nose before speaking again. “You okay?”
“Are you?” She questions in return, realizing she didn't look him over until now, her shaky hands pulling at his layers of clothing to check for any wounds.
“Yes, dolly. I'm fine, absolutely fine.” He kisses her on both cheeks and holds her close to him, Olive shakily breathing out.
“Put her down, Dougl–”
“I said,” he snarls. “Give me a fucking minute!” Olive feels his heart rate begin to accelerate, his shoulders rising and falling with each angry breath he takes. “She wouldn't be here if you hadn't have lied!”
“Hey, I did no such thing!” He retorts, looking between Dougie and Everett Blakely who has joined them, Val clinging to him the same way Olive is to James.
“So, you didn't know the Colonel lied to our girls?” Everett asks, his cheeks reddening with anger. His jaw juts furiously, shaking his head. “Likely fucking story, Bowman.”
“Everett!” Val scolds.
“I'm sorry, sweetheart, but this stinks to high heaven.”
“Yeah, Red. Guilt by association,” James interjects. “Not only have you upset them, but your lies put them here, on the airfield, because they thought this was only a practice.”
“We'll talk later,” Red scolds again. “Jeep, now!”
With a frustrated groan, Dougie kisses Olive quickly and climbs in. Ev does the same with Val, her running up to Olive and joining her where she stands. The girls cling to one another, fresh sobs pouring from them both.
“I like how you're not trying to be tough anymore, Ol,” Val weeps.
“I don't think I can be, chicken. Not when we have to live through this.”
“Right…ugh, Chick Harding is about to get the ear bashing of a lifetime.”
“Let me pull myself together and I'll join in,” Olive sniffs, opening the back door of ‘Spaghetti n Meatball’ to retrieve a whiskey bottle. They don't bother with cups, each necking a gulp before beckoning Meatball to join them in the cab, the husky whimpering as he tries to lick the tear sodden cheeks of his two girls. Olive turns the engine over, the truck starting a lot smoother than the first time. The girls and Meatball drive back to their usual spot in silence, Meatball laying between them comfortingly.
***
The Officer's club is bustling that night, the busyness to be expected following an arduous mission like that. Above the crowd of voices, Everett Blakely and Robert ‘Rosie’ Rosenthal lay out what happened that day, Pappy Lewis, Harry Crosby and James Douglass, all nodding along with the retelling.
“They just kept coming at us,” Rosie says, words wavering as he shakily breathes out. “Pappy and I, we were…we were just–” He looks to Pappy for reassurance, Pappy only able to shake his head in response. Olive looks at all of her friends, her lip beginning to wobble and her hazel eyes filling with tears that begin to pour down her cheeks. Harry Crosby spots it immediately, tapping Dougie on the shoulder to snap him out of his trance and take notice.
“We can stop, English,” Harry says.
“No!” she responds, the sadness squeezing her throat.
“Like hell will you stop telling the story,” Val snaps back. “I need every detail.”
“Sweetheart, no,” Ev soothes.
“I'm gonna be typing it anyway, honey. I'd rather hear it from you…and plan a way to wangle a three day pass out of Chicky for all of us; you fellas for R and R, us girls for him lying to our faces.”
Olive feels herself getting angry again, her face flushing. “The balls on that fucking man,” she sighs. “To lie to us like that.”
“Calm down, dolly,” Dougie urges, placing a hand on her thigh and pouting his lips for a kiss. He nods towards the door of the bar as Colonel Harding makes his entrance, shooting a glance towards Valencia. “Now's your chance.”
“Right!” Valencia says confidently, downing the rest of her French 75. “C'mon, Ol.” She grabs Olive by the hand and pulls, dragging her away from Dougie.
“I was occupied, in case you hadn't noticed!”
“You'll live, English.”
Pulling Olive across to the bar, Valencia walks with her brow furrowed hard, straight to Chick Harding, who is in the middle of ordering himself a measure of whiskey.
“Colonel!” She yells, dropping Olive’s hand. The club goes silent, all heads turning towards the confrontation. “You lied to us! What have you got to say for yourself?”
“Valencia, look, I–”
“It’s unacceptable, Harding. Not okay,” she carries on, her painted red fingernail pointing in the small distance between them.
“I just–”
“Just nothing!”
Olive remains silent, watching Chick's mouth open and close, seemingly lost for words and not able to conjure an explanation. His breath wavering, he looks around at all the eyes staring into the conversation.
“Hey, this ain’t a show!” He draws out, his raised voice snapping the airmen out of their curiosity. He wait until they've gone back to their conversations, turning towards Val and Olive.
“I'm sorry,” he says, looking ashamed. “Dunno what I was thinking.”
Val goes to respond, but stops herself when she sees that Chick wants to carry on.
“I'd like to make it up to ya. Whatever you want.”
A moment of silence is shared, the atmosphere now awkward as the adrenaline of the moment dissipates.
“Weekend passes,” Olive says, her voice shocking Valencia a little as she'd been silent until now. “For all of us.”
“Yeah,” Val agrees. “For the men, for their hard work today. For us girls, for lying to us.”
“Done,” he says dismissively. “Porter and Spaatz will be here to hold down the fort.”
“Hold on,” Val says. “You don't seem to have heard us, Colonel. I said us girls and I mean all of us.”
The Colonel sighs. “You got it. Now, scram.”
“Sir.”
The two girls walk back to join the group, satisfied smiles on their faces. Dougie’s face lights up at the sight of Olive finally smiling, his features softening as he sees her cheeks glow.
“So, what's the verdict? We get to sleep in a big bed together for a weekend?”
“Amongst other things, yes.”
His eyes widen, mouth dropping open as she plants a kiss on his cheek with a giggle. “You're fresh, dolly.”
“Mhm. Seems you're rubbing off on me.”