With no aircraft and only Polly’s efforts at keeping everyone busy meals were still largely formal at Helton even lunch. Edward Mallory had a vaguely surreal feeling watching the ladies sit down at the long table, place settings neatly arranged on a pristine white tablecloth. He had enough presence of mind however to ignore the seat Mal was offering and to dive in beside a rather hot little blond number. Wasting no time he introduced himself to the table and to the blond in particular. To his delight Jemima blushed like a schoolgirl.

‘What did you do before the war then?’ he asked ‘or were you still in school?’ The image of Jemima running around in a gymslip was almost painful.

‘Oh no’ she said looking down at her plate ‘I was a dra… that is I was an artist’. It was not really a lie she had spent her days drawing. Mike jumped up, snatched a poster from the wall (to Polly’s obvious consternation) and laid it face down on the table between them. ‘Draw me something’ he said fishing a pencil out of his tunic pocket ‘as a keepsake’.

Jemima put the end of the pencil between her lips hurriedly removing it when she realised it was already well chewed. She thought for a moment and began sketching conscious that everyone was watching her. ‘Finished’ she said as if it were a test pushing the drawing back to Edward.

‘Oh that’s marvellous’ he laughed and held up the sketch for everyone to see. Jemima had drawn a caricature of Edward in his flying kit struggling under the weight of an oversize petrol can. ‘What a clever girl you are!’ he added patting her knee under the table.

Jemima barely had time to shovel a few mouthfuls of food down as pieces of paper appeared from all angles with demands to ‘draw me!’ Two in particular were immense hit – one of Polly looking very cross tapping an immense pocket watch that hung from her neck like Marley’s chains, and a very accurate portrait of Deidre wielding an equally huge collection tin with ‘for charity’ written’ on it. Polly allowed herself to smile while looking daggers at Jemima, but Deidre seemed genuinely pleased laughing heartily along with everyone else.

‘I have to be quick’ Jemima told Sally ‘we have to be outside the Hall at eleven hundred hours… orders’. It was sunnier than the day before but the wind was just as bitter sinking through the still damp patch on her top coat where she had scrubbed off Sally’s handprint.

‘So what did you do then?’ Sally asked as Jemima described Edward’s roving hand running up and down her thigh ‘Did you biff him?’

‘Not all’ Jemima’s eyes sought out and locked on to Sally’s ‘I just pretended it was your hand’. Jemima blushed bright crimson, tipping her head to one side and smiling. It was too much for Sally to resist she snaked her arms around Jemima’s waist. ‘Ooh stop! You’ll get me into trouble again’ Jemima squealed pushing her back.

Sally put her hands on the sandbags to either side of Jemima and very gently pushed her back against the wall. There was only a slight protest. ‘What’s the matter’ she whispered in Jemima’s ear.

‘I’ve never kissed a girl before’ Jemima murmured very aware of Sally’s breath on her flushed face ‘never properly anyway’

‘Me neither’ said Sally pressing her lips to Jemima’s.

If anyone guessed why Jemima arrived last, blushing and flustered they said nothing. All eyes were on the skies where a shoal of tint dots were approaching, the noise of their engines growing louder by the second.
‘Are those Hurricanes?’ someone asked above the din.

‘No’ Polly answered ‘the radiator is too deep…could be Moranes I suppose’

‘They’re Masters’ Jemima cried as the first jet black monoplane came in to land ‘I did my advanced training in them’ then sensing that everyone else seemed disappointed by the answer added ‘they’re not as fast as Hurricanes but you can loop them and all sorts… not that I ever did though’

Those final few words drew a laugh from everyone, they may not have known the little blond very long but no one could imagine her not charging at any gate, no matter how high or forbidden.