“Miss Richmond?” Jacqueline Cochran asked exiting her office in the same manner she had done only fifteen minutes previously to ask Lily to enter.
The blonde woman stood, smoothed her suit over her trim frame, and gave one last smile towards Lily who returned it with a smile of support and a slight nod. Lily watched as the blonde woman entered the office and closed the door, only snapping back to the moment when her papers were waved in front of her face. She retrieved them, thanked the secretary, and left the building squinting into the Texas sun as she pulled her gloves on. She released a long slow breath, “And now we wait.” She gave a half laugh as her stomach reminded her loudly that her nerves had made her forgo breakfast. Now that the tension had finally eased she set off in search of some lunch.
***
Helen Richmond walked into the office feeling her bravado from the outer office slip in the presence of the famous female aviator. “Miss Cochran, it is an honor and privilege to meet you,” she gushed. “I have long been an admirer of you... I mean of your achievements,” she corrected quickly.
“Well, thank you! Please come in and have a seat,” Jackie motioned to the seat opposite, smiling at her new interviewee. “I see that you have a varied amount of experience,” Jackie said her smile growing wider. “You’ve been based in Hollywood for a while doing stunt work, do you know Pancho?” she asked, referring to fellow aviator and one time stunt pilot Pancho Barnes.
Smiling, Helen nodded, “Our time didn’t coincide but I have met her, she is a force of nature.”
Jackie smiled an acknowledgment, “That she is.” Her smile wavered as she turned to the one issue that troubled her with Helen’s application, she hesitated uncertain whether to voice her reservation. The dilemma lasted seconds before she went ahead. “I am concerned that we won’t be able to satisfy your taste for risk and adventure Miss Richmond. We transfer aircraft and participate in training and we’re military trained,” Jackie cautioned.
Taking a deep breath Helen answered with as much passion as she could muster, “I have no desire towards risk or adventure Miss Cochran, I only wish to perform my duty, had it not been for family matters I would have been here last November pounding on your door.”
Jackie nodded, “I met your father in Washington before the war started. He was a remarkable man as well as a great General and his death was a loss to our nation.”
Helen swallowed hoping that she managed to hide her grief, despite the passage of time she still struggled to accept her father’s death.
“Thank you Ma’am, I appreciate that.”
Placing her palms on the desk Jackie pushed herself out of her chair. “Thank you for coming, I have enjoyed our chat,” she held her hand out for Helen to shake. “Provide my secretary with your logbook info on your way out and we will be in touch.”
Helen rose and shook the tall woman’s hand, “Thank you for meeting with me, I can assure you Miss Cochran that if you let me, I will give you all that I have.”
“Of that I’m in no doubt Miss Richmond, no doubt at all.”
Walking back into the main office Helen smiled absently at the woman now sitting waiting to go in, her mind flashing back to her earlier exchange with the woman with dark soulful eyes and caramel skin that had been interviewed before her. It had been a while since she had shown an interest in any woman and their brief exchange had both calmed her pre-interview nerves while creating an altogether different flutter in her stomach. She was intrigued to see the name of the woman who had sparked such a response in her. She handed her papers over and furtively looked over the secretary’s shoulder to look at the list. She smiled to herself as she spotted the name on the line above her own,
Liliana McAllister,
she thought,
I sincerely hope the song is correct and that we do meet again.
.
Chapter Two
July 1943 – Sweetwater, Texas
Lily stood across the street facing a large square building; it was nowhere near as tall as the buildings that she was accustomed to in New York but here in Sweetwater, Texas, the hotel was an imposing building in the small town's skyline.
Her purse hung loosely from her wrist as she tightened her grip on the handles of her suitcase and violin case. Taking a deep breath, and forcing her shoulders back, she walked towards the Bluebonnet Hotel. Entering, she felt the cool drafts of the ceiling fans take the edge off the searing Texan heat. She approached the empty desk and hit the service bell. A small grey-haired woman appeared.
“Welcome to Sweetwater,” she said in a lazy drawl.
“Thank you. I have a room booked for the night, Riviera?” Lily said putting her suitcase down at her feet and switching her violin case into her left hand.
The small woman appraised the young woman standing in the foyer, her lips pursed as she narrowed her eyes. “You one of those fly girls?” she asked.
A small smile crept onto Lily's face, the pride at being called a 'fly girl' and the excitement about what she was about to undertake unable to hide itself, “Yes Ma'am...yes I am.”
The receptionist sucked air through her teeth. “Thought so, can spot you lot a mile off with a squint. Well here's hoping I don't see you in a couple of weeks crying your heart out cause you got washed out,” she added as she pulled together paperwork for Lily to complete. She passed the form over with a pen and gave Lily another once over before turning to collect a room key from the rack behind her.
Lily stood contemplating the woman's words. She had never even thought about the possibility of being kicked out of the program. A feeling of self-doubt, which her acceptance and enthusiasm had kept at bay, started to seep in. She took the pen and filled in her details.
“Room sixteen. Dinners at six. Doors lock at nine. No bringing men back to the room,” the older woman recited absently as she took the paper and pen from Lily and handed her the key. She took a look at Lily’s luggage. “And don’t be playing that fiddle.”
Lily flashed a smile and, taking the key, picked up her bags before heading up the stairs towards her room for the night.
***
It was still dark when Lily awoke the next morning; her excitement robbing her of sleep that she suspected she would be lamenting later. The months since her interview with Miss Cochran had passed slowly for her. After the initial wave of activity, that included her medical and written test, it became a waiting game until she was informed of her acceptance onto the program and instructed to head to Sweetwater.
She was grateful for Henry’s insurance payment that meant she could pay for her travel to Texas and hotel stay while retaining their apartment in New York. She would be earning far less as a WASP than she could earn with her violin and that was before she paid for her room and board on the base. She smiled as she thought of Eva who was now no doubt claiming the larger bedroom in her absence. She had thought that she would never smile again when she received the telegram telling her of Henry’s death and the subsequent events that unfolded. Had it not been for Eva’s friendship and dogged determination to move into the home that Lily had shared with her husband. That prediction may have proved correct. The move had benefited both of them since, although small, Lily’s apartment in Greenwich was more comfortable than Eva’s in Harlem.
Standing and stretching out her stiff muscles, she grumbled that her body clock was still assuming she was keeping her usual pattern. After her hours with the orchestra, she would play with various nightclub bands, often arriving home as others started their day. Her nerves about the day she was about to face were starting to return along with concerns about her abilities. All of her insecurities seemed to come out in the dark. She could hear Henry’s voice telling her that she was only playing with the orchestra as there weren’t enough male violin players because of the war; her stomach started its familiar roil.
She walked over to her violin case and opened it carefully. She reached in and caressed the smooth wood with her fingertips before lifting the violin reverently from its case, leaving the bow nestled in its slot. Placing the instrument beneath her chin her fingers started to dance silently across the strings, her empty right hand mimicking her smooth bowing action as she soothed herself with the only thing, other than flying, that she knew could calm any anxiety she felt. When she finished she felt better, stronger and more assured, she walked to the window, drew back the curtains and looked up at the night sky. From nowhere, Eva’s words about letting Henry still influence her emotions came to her.
She squared her shoulders and said defiantly towards the heavens, “Damn you to hell Henry McAllister, you will not dictate my life any longer!”
She nodded confidently towards the stars before slipping back into her bed and trying to reclaim any sleep that might come her way.
***
By zero seven hundred hours Lily was up and ready to join the muster point outside the hotel as her acceptance letter had instructed her. She
paid her bill and walked out into the morning; the sun had started to warm the air but had not yet cast its glare down on the town. Instead, a cool breeze blew which caused dust from the road to dance along the sidewalk.
She saw a group of women standing on the corner by the hotel and wandered close to them. Surreptitiously she took in what she assumed were her classmates. She counted around twenty women all dressed in their best clothes, their hair perfectly pinned, their makeup carefully applied. It was as if they were auditioning for a beauty pageant rather than joining the WASP, Lily mused then inwardly laughed as she thought about the care and attention she had given to her own appearance that morning. She hung back from joining the chatter, preferring instead to observe, when she noticed a tall red-haired woman turn and put her hand up to her eyes to shield her vision.
“What the hell?” the woman exclaimed.
The rest of the gathering turned to where she was looking and watched as what looked suspiciously like a cattle truck pulled up outside the hotel.
The door opened and out jumped a woman dressed in beige pants and a white shirt; rolled up sleeves revealed deep tanned forearms. Stepping towards the group, she removed the aviator sunglasses she was wearing and looked around the women standing nervously outside the hotel. Twirling her glasses in her hand, she gave them a reassuring smile.
“Good morning class 44-1. I'm Emily Foster your Establishment Officer. Let's get you to your new home.”
She walked round to the rear of the truck and waited for the women to follow. She smirked as they struggled in their heels to get themselves and their belongings into what was a converted cattle truck and shook her head knowingly; their grooming regime and fashion tastes would change dramatically over the next couple of days.
“All in and comfortable?” Foster asked, before slipping her sunglasses back on and slamming shut the tailgate of the truck without waiting for a reply.
The nervous chatter that had been building outside the hotel momentarily stopped as the women started to comprehend what they had signed up to. Sitting in their dresses and suits on the hard wooden bench that lined the interior of the dusty truck, they bumped around on the uneven road surface trying not to breathe the potentially intoxicating exhaust fumes.
***
Helen stretched languidly across the bed, popping joints and extending muscles tired from the days spent travelling east from California to Texas on her motorcycle, as well as the unexpected end to her evening.
It had been late when she arrived in Sweetwater and she had only stepped into the local USO as the Blue Bonnet Hotel, where she had a room for the night, had stopped serving food. The last thing she expected was to see a familiar face in the sea of uniformed men and women. However, it had been a pleasant surprise after a long few days when Peggy had approached her fresh from the dance floor, a wide grin on her face and her blonde bangs plastered to her forehead with perspiration.
“Hell’s Bells! Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Peggy had said, pulling her into a tight embrace. “Have you joined the WASP?” she asked, holding Helen at arm’s length and inspecting her.
“I have indeed; I didn’t know you’d joined up,” Helen replied while wracking her brain to think when she had seen Peggy last. Theirs was more a casual acquaintance than deep friendship, often seeing each other at the clubs in LA; she hadn’t even realized that Peggy had her pilot’s license. Had Helen known that they had more in common than their mutual preference for women she may have made more of an effort to get to know her better. “I’m not sure I even knew you flew,” Helen added as an afterthought.
“I’m a woman of mystery,” Peggy replied waggling her eyebrows. “Got my license in college but hadn’t flown much since,” she admitted with a rueful grin. “But hey, I’m flying plenty now. I’m two months in and loving it all. Well, apart from the early mornings and PT. You want to grab a drink and catch up?” she pulled Helen towards an empty table and motioned for the waitress.
After receiving their drinks, Peggy observed Helen over the top of her glass. “I heard what happened with your father, I’m sorry…”
Helen interrupted her with a wave of her hand, “So how has your training been so far?”
Peggy let her off the hook and allowed the change the subject, “It’s been good but I hope that you’re ready for a vow of chastity here ‘cause it’s slim pickings.”
They caught up on the gossip about mutual friends and danced together, taking advantage of the fact that no one batted an eyelid at the two women lindy hopping together. It was only when they took a break in their dancing that Helen noticed Peggy looking down at her lasciviously; her blue eyes were practically undressing Helen where she stood. Looking around quickly to make sure that no one else saw the look, Helen whispered towards her friend, “What are you doing?”
“It’s been two months Hell’s Bells! I’m ready to climb the walls. I am surrounded, literally surrounded, by women but I can’t touch. Please!” Peggy whined, her full lips pulled into a sumptuous pout.