Heartwarming and emotional story of one girl's courage in WW2 by Fenella Miller (best ereader for students .TXT) 📕

‘Right on time, Ellie, we only just arrived ourselves,’ Elizabeth said after having hugged her enthusiastically. Her friend was a head shorter but in her high heels she looked almost as tall.

‘I like the new hairdo, very fashionable. In fact, the two of you make me look like a shabby provincial miss.’

Anna didn’t go in for physical signs of affection but smiled warmly. ‘Which is exactly what you are, Miss Simpson. We’ve come to render you our able assistance. I promise you, that when you go home tonight your family won’t recognise you. It’s just a pity you have your hair so short, but never mind, we’ve booked you in for a manicure and make up in the West End.’

‘I’m not glamorous like either of you and I don’t think a lot of lipstick and rouge would suit me. I just want a couple of smart outfits and an evening gown – plus all the bits and bobs that I need to go with them.’

Her friends exchanged a smile and her heart sank. She was very fond of the pair of them but, lovely as they both were, she had no desire to look like either of them. They were the epitome of what her mother thought was right for a young lady from a good home but wouldn’t suit someone who flew for a living in a man’s world.

‘We are both impressed that you’ve managed to snag such a prestigious catch as Gregory Dunlop. He’s often seen in the fashionable magazines with a beautiful young deb on his arm,’ Elizabeth said as she slipped her hand through Ellie’s arm.

‘We’re just friends, nothing else. I told you I met him through Neil and he helped out at the airfield for a bit.’

Anna was walking at her other side as if she thought Ellie might want to escape from them. ‘That’s what we thought. You’re not his type, he’d never marry someone like you. He’s just doing you a favour.’

Before she could stop herself, Ellie blurted out the truth. ‘Actually, he did ask me but I turned him down. I believe he’s hoping to persuade me to change my mind.’

Anna stopped dead and a pinstriped businessman cannoned into the back of her sending her flying in a most undignified heap. By the time the apologetic gentleman had helped her friend to her feet and brushed her down a small crowd of interested spectators had gathered.

‘I apologise again, my dear, you must allow me to pay for your shoes to be repaired.’ The man dipped into his wallet and handed over a five-pound note. Ellie was astonished Anna took it – she certainly wouldn’t have done.

‘That’s very thoughtful of you, sir. I shall get the heel repaired immediately.’

Only then did Ellie notice the heel of Anna’s shoe had snapped off leaving her strangely unbalanced. ‘There’s a cobbler’s over there. Are you going to take the other one off or try and walk the way you are?’

‘The way I am. If I hang onto your arms I won’t overbalance again. Look at this – I’ve got a big hole in the knee of my best silk stocking.’

‘Well, you’ve got more than enough to buy yourself several pairs of stockings and a pair of shoes.’ Ellie was still shocked that Anna had accepted so much money from a complete stranger. The only people who did that worked in quite a different sort of profession.

‘Don’t be so stuffy, Ellen Simpson, why shouldn’t we have a delicious lunch paid for by someone with more money than we’ll ever have. I wouldn’t have taken it if he’d been an ordinary sort of person.’

‘Come on, let’s not hang about here anymore, I’m beginning to feel a bit conspicuous.’

‘Talking about conspicuous, don’t the shop windows look hideous now they’ve been taped up. I can’t see it making any difference if a bomb did drop on the street,’ Elizabeth said.

‘It’s supposed to prevent the glass flying out over passing pedestrians but we won’t know if it works until the Germans drop a bomb on London. I don’t want to think about that, not today, I’ve come up here to spend time with my best friends and enjoy myself.’

*

The last pupil of the day had driven away on his motorbike at two o’clock. Jack finished up in the office and locked the door. Sid and Gladys hadn’t been working today and he’d quite enjoyed being on his own for a change.

The two men from the village had finished digging out the foundations for the shelter. He would have liked to give them a hand but his arm was aching unpleasantly and he thought it would be better to give it a rest for the remainder of the weekend.

Mrs B was talking on the telephone when he walked in. She beckoned him frantically and he hurried over to take the receiver from her. She held her hand over the mouthpiece and whispered. ‘It’s someone from the Ministry – but I’m not sure which one. Will you speak to him?’

He took the phone. ‘Jack Reynolds speaking, how can I help you?’

‘Good man – just the person I wanted. I believe you’re the owner of Glebe Farm flying school, is that correct?’

‘It is. Who am I talking to?’

‘Sorry, should have introduced myself. Charlie Rotherham – attached to the Air Ministry. I’ve been hearing good things about your school. We’ve already got half a dozen pilots who trained with you. We need you to cancel your civilian clients and instruct the RAF bods instead.’

‘I’d be delighted to help out with the war effort. However, the instructor who trained most of those pilots is Ellen Simpson. You blokes okay to officially employ a girl instructor?’

‘No problem at all. Miss Simpson has already proved her credentials. We’ll be sending you the first half a dozen on Monday.’

‘Do we get paid for doing this or is it considered our patriotic duty?’

Rotherham guffawed. ‘Good God,