Risking It All by Lucy Oliver Page B

he be? He made his feelings clear three years ago.
    ****
    “Who’s your friend?” Barbara said, looking up from her desk in the corner of the control tower.
    “Someone my brother knew,” Lynne said.
    Through the large windows of the control tower, Spitfires and Hurricanes gleamed under the bright sun. Returning pilots in their leather jackets and boots shuffled back from the airfield, shoulders slumped, faces white. The new team would be finishing their meal, finding their gloves and helmets, heading out to the planes.
    Billy might be among them. It was lucky she’d met him in the mess. Seeing his name on her flying lists would have jolted her and in this job, you couldn’t make mistakes. Dropping her handbag on her desk, she checked the controls of her large radio unit, then straightened the headphones, paper and pens. Her ability to stay calm had taken her from a trainee radio operator to an officer, but how calm would she be directing him into the path of enemy fighters? This was why she never got involved with pilots.
    “Are you practicing the jitterbug?” Barbara said.
    Lynne sat down and sank her head into her hands. She remembered the heat of the summer night, the swish of her new crimson dress and the burn of her cheeks as Billy led all the other girls in turn onto the dance floor, except her. Her brother’s best friend and a frequent visitor to the house, he’d always chosen her for his tennis partner and served her sandwiches when they picnicked.
    She read too much into it. The night of the party, he was a cold stranger to her, and a stranger she didn’t want to know. They were young, probably too young and maybe he knew that. With time, they might have regained their former closeness, but war was declared and everything changed. Billy joined up and she hadn’t seen him again.
    “Ready, Lynne?” Barbara said. “Derek awaits.”
    She jumped and glanced at her watch. It was time for her meeting and time to forget Billy. She had more important things to worry about. Grabbing a pad and pencil, she followed Barbara into the small office partitioned off from the rest of the control tower.
    Her boss, Derek, sat behind his desk, fingers pressed together. “Delayed, girls?” he said. “As if you weren’t in enough trouble.”
    “Sorry, sir,” Lynne said, pulling down her skirt before she sat. It was an automatic gesture with Derek, whose eyes had the seeking power of a chain radar station.
    “Now you’re quite comfortable, I want to know what you’re intending to do about the unsustainable pilot losses. Not much seems to have changed since our last meeting and I don’t want the top brass back down here.”
    Lynne tensed. It was her friends dying; how dare he suggest she was complacent about it? They were doing everything they could, but the bombers were in position before their fighters could get high enough to attack.
    “We aren’t getting the reports fast enough from Operations,” she said. “Without prior warning, there’s little we can do.”
    “You’re getting the same notice as every other airfield, but they’re managing to get the planes up in time, and you are not. As Head Operator, Miss Cecil, I expect better.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “What?”
    “YES, sir.”
    “Now get out. I’ll see you again on Friday and if things haven’t improved, you’re both out of a job.”
    Face burning, Lynne strode from the room, banging the door behind her. What could she do? They were scrambling the pilots as fast as they could, but dozens of planes were being shot down each day. Was it her fault these men were dying?
    “We’re doing our best,” Barbara said, staring at the floor.
    “But he’s right,” Lynne said, dropping back into her chair. “Shore-Lee is a death trap for fighter pilots.” She rested her head in her hands, blinking away tears. Maybe she should resign. But would her replacement be able to do any better? If she couldn’t see where things were going wrong, a new recruit