A Spot of Fatherly Advice

"Oh!" gasped Fiona MacDonald as she trod on her shoelace and lost her balance just as she was about to alight from the train. Her suitcase tumbled from her hand as she tried to save herself and clattered onto the platform. It looked a long way down and then there was that wide gap – she was sure she was going to fall under the train and be killed. Her cap fell over her eyes and everything went dark.

Suddenly, strong arms held her close and pulled her upright. Breathless, she pushed her cap back and looked at her saviour.

"Steady now," said the young flying officer who had caught her, "life's not so bad that you have to throw yourself under a train, surely?" His eyes were twinkling as he spoke and a teasing smile played on his lips. His voice was gentle with just a hint of northern intonation.

"I didn't," she gabbled, "I mean, I tripped." She steadied herself and tried to salute, but in her fluster, instead of giving a smart salute, she only succeeded in tipping her cap over her eyes again.

The young man solemnly straightened it for her. She looked at him gratefully. He was about her height and good-looking in a boyish kind of way. His well-cut uniform showed off his slim body to advantage, she thought, and he looked kind. A few wisps of ginger hair were escaping from under his cap. "I'm very new to this," she told him, her heart fluttering. I haven't long joined up."

"Are you going to Rawlham?" he asked politely.

"Yes, sir," she replied. "I've just been posted to the Adjutant's Office."

The young officer looked her up and down approvingly. "Toddy will be pleased," he announced. "My name's Hebblethwaite, by the way. Ginger for short."

"Fiona MacDonald," she reciprocated.

"You don't sound very Scottish," he observed.

"I'm not," she confessed. "My family left Scotland a long time ago, but they've kept up the tradition of Scottish names. My eldest brother is Donald and my second brother is Alistair. I actually come from Surrey."

"I see," he murmured. "I am going to Rawlham and my Flight Commander has come to meet me. I'm sure he wouldn't object to giving you a lift if you would like one."

"That would be wonderful," she said gratefully. "I'm not very good at finding my way round new places."

"Allow me," said the young man, picking up her suitcase. "It's just this way. But first," he added, "perhaps you had better do up the shoelace that caused all this trouble."

She blushed. "Oh yes," she agreed and bent down to fasten it. She could see her reflection in his polished shoes. 'What a mess I look,' she thought. 'And he is so smart and handsome. Just my luck to meet a nice boy when I look like a scarecrow.'

She stood up. "I'm ready," she announced.

"Come on, then." He led her to the ticket barrier and showed his warrant, then waited patiently while Fiona rummaged in her pockets to find the necessary paperwork. When she drew a blank there, she opened her gas mask case and withdrew a lipstick and powder compact, followed by the travel warrant.

Once through the barrier, the young man guided her to where a gleaming green Bentley was parked in front of the station. Lounging against the door, one foot on the running board and smoking a cigarette was a stocky blond flight lieutenant.

He returned the young man's casual salute in a perfunctory fashion and eyed his companion, who this time managed to salute without dislodging her cap.

"Permit me to introduce Flight Officer Fiona MacDonald," said Ginger with a smile, "she's going to Rawlham and I thought we could give her a lift."

The flight lieutenant nodded enthusiastically. "Flight Lieutenant the Honourable Algernon Lacey," Ginger completed the introduction. "Algy for short."

"How do you do," murmured Algy, looking the young woman up and down appreciatively. "You'll be a welcome addition to the squadron."

Fiona blushed, not knowing quite how to respond. The Flight Lieutenant had an air about him that was very different from the shy young man who had saved her on the platform.

"She's going to be working for Toddy," Ginger informed him.

"Lucky Toddy," opined Algy as he opened the passenger door. "Do get in."

Algy helped Fiona into the car while Ginger stowed her suitcase. He swung himself onto the back seat as Algy started the engine. The sporty machine purred its way along the street and out of the town towards the airfield.

Ginger sat in the back and listened to Algy and Fiona making small talk. He envied Algy his easy manner when it came to women. Algy seemed genuinely to enjoy female company, while he, Ginger, felt faintly unsure of himself. He knew so few women, he reflected, that it wasn't surprising he felt out of place talking to them. He was an only child, his mother had died when he was very young and his father had never remarried. There had been no women in his life up to his teen years except occasional visits to his neighbour, Mrs Lamb, when he needed to escape his father's drunken rages. Then when he moved to London to live with Biggles and Algy, there had been Mrs Symes, their housekeeper. He could not count Stella Carstairs, he thought. She had breezed into their life during the affair of the gold transport business and then disappeared as quickly as she had come afterwards. There was Full Moon, he thought fondly. He had had a lot of fun with her, but that was in the South Seas and she had a boyfriend.

He sighed imperceptively. The other members of the squadron didn't seem to have any problems, he thought. Henry had a girlfriend back in Oxford to whom he wrote every day and most of the others went off to the local hostelries with the boys from Wilks' Hurricane squadron whenever they could, returning very merry and extolling the virtues of the busty barmaids. From the reports that filtered back there was a lot of carousing going on when they all got together.

For some time now Ginger had been feeling his life lacked the spice of female company, but there was none to be had since all of the WAAF officers on station appeared to be already spoken for. Biggles was not keen on his accompanying the others to public houses, and if he were honest, he doubted the rest of the squadron would be very relaxed about his joining their party, either. Not that they disliked him, but they knew that Biggles would take a keen interest in everything that went on if Ginger was involved. Being the CO's blue-eyed boy was a mixed blessing, as Ginger had discovered.

He knew that Algy still occasionally absented himself for weekends at country houses as he had before the war and although the subject had never been broached, Ginger had a shrewd idea of what he got up to, but he knew that this avenue was not open to him. Biggles shunned company, female or otherwise, if it meant he had to dress for dinner. Apart from Cub, he thought, he didn't even have any friends of his own age. He had made no close friends among the other squadron members, who were older than him anyway, for which his close relationship with Biggles was partly responsible, he acknowledged.

Algy swung the big machine in through the gates of the airfield, returning the sentry's salute with a wave of his hand. He made his way to the WAAF block and pulled up outside. Ginger leaped down and opened the door for Fiona. She took his proffered hand and climbed out. His flesh was warm and his grip firm. She thought how nice he looked.

"Thank you," she breathed. "You've been very kind."

"You'd better report for duty," he advised her. "The Queen Bee is a bit of a stickler for punctuality."

"Shall I see you again?" she asked shyly.

"I expect so," he answered in a matter-of-fact tone. "I shall be around the base." He took her suitcase from the back of the Bentley and put it on the ground beside her.

"Well, goodbye, then," she murmured.

"Goodbye, Fiona," said Algy pleasantly.

"Mind how you go," added Ginger with a twinkle in his eye.

Fiona picked up her suitcase and took it into the WAAF block. Ginger watched her go, thinking she had a good figure with all the curves in the right places. He turned to find Algy watching him in amusement.

"What's so funny?" he asked indignantly.

"You," replied Algy. "Why didn't you ask her for a date?"

"What!" exclaimed Ginger. "I couldn't do that."

"Why not? She likes you and you thought she was a bit of alright, didn't you?"

"Yes," agreed Ginger. "She's got good legs and a lovely figure."

Algy laughed. "I thought you'd never notice!" he exclaimed. "It's good to see you're growing up at last." He looked at the young man fondly, thinking that Biggles' Puritan attitude had a lot to answer for.

Ginger looked sheepish. "I've been noticing girls for a while," he admitted. "I just don't know any."

"Well, now's your chance. Next time you see her, Ginger, why don't you ask her if she'd like to go to the cinema with you – but don't choose a gangster film," he advised the blushing young man. "Choose something a bit more romantic – a musical, perhaps."

"Do you really think she would?" asked Ginger suspiciously.

"She'll snatch your hand off," Algy told him with certainty. 'She'd be an idiot if she didn't,' he thought, 'you'd be the catch of the season. Such a shame you don't have any confidence in your ability to attract the opposite sex.' Why, he had no idea because Ginger was good looking, honest, kind, gentle and generous; all the things that a girl would appreciate. He could only assume it was because the lad had never had the opportunity to interact with women when he was growing up.

Ginger looked dubious, but he had to admit that Algy was right; he met Fiona in the NAAFI a few days later and stumblingly asked her if she would like to come with him to see a film the following day. To his surprise she accepted with alacrity.

Ginger thought he had better go to Algy for advice before the big day. "What should I do?" he wanted to know.

"Just be yourself," advised Algy unhelpfully.

"But what do I say?" asked Ginger plaintively.

"Relax and play it by ear," Algy told him. Ginger thought that was easier said than done. "I can't give you any rules," continued Algy. "All girls are different. Let her set the pace and make the rules, but don't make it obvious you're not in charge. Just have a good time and don't worry."

Ginger looked doubtful.

"Remember," Algy told him, "Women like to be the centre of attention. As long as you ask what she thinks, listen to her answers and generally let her talk about herself, you'll have no problems."

"I hope so," muttered Ginger, wondering if he had done the right thing by inviting Fiona to go out with him. He had to admit that he was apprehensive. By the time the moment arrived to pick Fiona up at the WAAF block, he was a bundle of nerves, but he tried desperately not to show it.

Fiona came out to meet him. She saluted more confidently and Ginger acknowledged the gesture. Formalities over, he offered her his arm and she took it. They walked slowly to the bus stop and Fiona prattled away. Ginger wondered if she was as nervous as he was or if she always talked fifty to the dozen.

Suddenly he realised she had fallen silent. "I'm boring you, aren't I?" she said in a worried tone.

He smiled. "Are you nervous?"

"Yes," she told him, relieved that he seemed to understand and be sympathetic. "I always go on and on when I'm feeling a bit anxious. I've never been on a date before," she confessed impulsively. "I went to a very strict girls' school and they didn't allow us to mix with boys. My parents didn't really want me to join up," she added ruefully, "but I wanted to see life."

Ginger felt tempted to admit that it was his first time, too, but he did not like to lose face. "Just relax and be yourself," he told her, grateful for Algy's advice which made him sound like an experienced man of the world, he felt. "We're just going to watch a film and enjoy ourselves."

"Yes, of course," said Fiona, hugging his arm gratefully. They walked along in silence and then had to run the last few yards to catch the bus.

Giggling and breathless they mounted the steps. "Where would you like to sit?" he asked.

"At the back," she told him. "There's more room there."

Accordingly they made their way to the rear of the bus. The driver had started off before they had reached their seats and Ginger had to steady Fiona as the bus lurched. He found it pleasant to put his arm round her waist and she was certainly not objecting to his doing so. They sat together on the back seat and Fiona shyly slipped her hand in his. He squeezed it gently and she blushed but did not draw away.

The conductor came up to them and Ginger paid the fare. The bus ride to the cinema was all too short, thought Fiona, as she sat next to the young pilot, enjoying the touch of his hand on hers and the pressure of his thigh against her own. She stole a glance at him. He was handsome, she thought, and felt her heart give a little flutter.

At the cinema he offered her the choice of stalls or circle and she opted for the former. When the usherette showed them into the aisle, Fiona said she would like to sit at the back as she got a headache if she was too close to the screen. The usherette looked at the pair of them and showed them to the back row.

"Was this what you meant?" asked Ginger curiously as they took their seats. He had always avoided the back row when he sneaked in to watch gangster movies before he left home.

"Not exactly," admitted Fiona, "but we're here now, we might as well put up with it," she continued in order to forestall his offer to move.

They settled down to watch the film. Ginger glanced along the row. All the men seemed to have their arms around their girlfriends' shoulders. Hesitantly he laid his arm along the back of the seat. Fiona leaned back against him and snuggled against his shoulder.

Ginger smiled. It felt very pleasant to have her head on his shoulder and he let his hand rest on the curve of her upper arm. Fiona reached across and put her hand on his waist. He felt very snug and comfortable. No wonder Algy liked spending time with girls, he thought. He would like to do this again.

The music started and the screen flickered into life. It was a banal movie, thought Ginger, but Fiona seemed happy and he certainly found the feel of her soft body against his very pleasant. She sat up when the lights came up and began to fuss her hair and check her makeup. Ginger withdrew his arm and felt in his tunic pocket. He offered Fiona a packet of Beech Nut chewing gum for the interval since ice cream was out of the question, but she declined. Ginger returned it to his pocket, grateful that he had not chosen to spend his ration on a bar of chocolate. That would have got very sticky in the warmth of the cinema, he realised.

When the lights dimmed again for the second part of the programme, Ginger wondered if Fiona would be willing to cuddle up to him again, but the title and credits had barely begun to roll before she had resumed her former position and he felt emboldened to put his arm back round her.

Fiona rested her cheek against his and somehow it seemed natural that their lips should meet. He thought it very pleasant and waited for the opportunity to repeat the experience. As though she felt she had been too bold, Fiona moved away from him slightly. Ginger lightened the pressure of his arm to give her room. He did not want to frighten her; she reminded him of a bird or a small, wild mammal, shying away from a trap. He watched the film and waited. Algy was right, he reflected. The trick was to relax. There was plenty of time. He had enjoyed the feeling of Fiona in his arms and he had certainly enjoyed the brief kiss, but there was no point in trying to rush things. He had had a pleasurable evening and he hoped that Fiona had, too.

At the end of the performance they all stood to attention for the National Anthem before filing out into the street. It had started to rain. Ginger wished he had worn his great coat, but it was too late now. They hurried along and just caught the bus back to the airfield as it was about to leave. They sat on the back seat again, holding hands. Ginger asked what Fiona thought of the film and they discussed the performance earnestly. He walked her back to the WAAF block and stopped outside.

"Thank you for a lovely evening," said Fiona facing him, "I have really enjoyed it."

"So did I," admitted Ginger. "Perhaps we can go again some time."

"I'd like that," confessed Fiona, wondering if he was going to kiss her.

Ginger hesitated, wondering if she was expecting him to kiss her. She had not objected in the cinema, he reflected, would she mind here? There was no one about. He made up his mind and pressed his lips gently against hers. She returned his kiss and put her arms round his waist, pressing herself against him. Ginger stepped back, a little startled.

"Goodnight," he gasped. "I'll see you safely in."

"Goodnight," she responded, wondering if she had been too forward, but he was really nice. She turned quickly to enter the building. Ginger watched her go through the door and made his way back to his own quarters.

When he opened the door of his room he was surprised to see Algy sitting in the armchair, waiting.

"Hello, Ginger, how did you get on?" he wanted to know.

"Thank you for your advice," responded Ginger. "It was very helpful."

"Did you have a good time?" enquired Algy.

"Yes, very good, thank you," Ginger told him. "The film wasn't anywhere near as bad as I expected."

Algy laughed. "And did you enjoy being with Fiona?"

"Yes, it was very pleasant," replied Ginger, hoping Algy wasn't going to ask him any intimate details. Not that there would have been very much to report, he reflected.

"Are you going to ask her out again?" Algy wanted to know.

"I don't know," admitted Ginger. "I may do. I enjoy being with her."

"That's the ticket," said Algy with a broad grin. He got up. "I'll leave you to sleep on it," he averred. "Goodnight." He went out, whistling cheerfully, pleased that Ginger had enjoyed his first excursion with a woman. He hoped it would be the first of many.

After Algy had left, Ginger washed and went to bed to dream of kissing Fiona and enjoying the sensation that produced.


Biggles looked up from the manila folder containing his orders as there was a light tap on the door. Before he called "come in", he closed the folder and put it in the top drawer of his desk, turning the key and putting it in his pocket.

Algy entered. For the sake of the airmen working in the outer office, he threw Biggles a smart salute and crisply said, " Good morning, sir!"

Algy closed the door behind him and sat down.

"Good morning, Algy," responded Biggles. "What brings you here so early?"

"I thought you might like to know that Ginger took a WAAF to the cinema last night," said Algy meaningfully with an amused glint in his eye.

Biggles regarded him steadily. "Is that something I should know as CO or are you telling me on a purely personal basis?" he enquired.

"Good heavens, Biggles!" exclaimed Algy. "Ginger is showing an interest in girls for the first time and you are thinking of having him court martialled under King's Regs? Are you crazy?"

"You know that is not what I meant," growled Biggles. "I meant has he done anything improper? Anything prejudicial to good order? Was it an officer?"

"Yes, it was an officer, he hasn't been fraternising with other ranks," confirmed Algy. "It's the new WAAF in Toddy's office, the girl with the Scots name."

"Flight Officer MacDonald," supplied Biggles.

"That's the one," confirmed Algy.

"And nothing untoward happened at the cinema?" queried Biggles.

"I doubt it," stated Algy confidently. "Ginger is as pure as the driven snow and twice as innocent. She'll be lucky if he kissed her."

"Then why are you telling me this?"

"I thought you might like to know," responded Algy. "After all, you are his legal guardian. I thought you'd be pleased he was showing some interest in women at last. He's growing up."

Biggles took out his cigarette case, offered it to Algy, then selected a cigarette and lit it. He gave no indication of acknowledging that Ginger's interest in women was as important a step in the young man's personal development as Algy clearly felt.

"Yes," he mused, throwing a glance at the locked drawer. "Perhaps I ought to have a word with him."

Algy blew a smoke ring. "We've told him the biological facts," he observed, "but I think he's a bit short on wooing tactics. I told him to be himself and at least he seems to have enjoyed himself last night."

"With your reputation, it's a good job you didn't give him any tips," stated Biggles sternly. "I don't want an incident."

Algy laughed. "You know that I am the soul of discretion," he countered.

Biggles pursed his lips, thinking of himself and Marie. She had encouraged him and led him on to a natural conclusion, he remembered. Not that he hadn't been willing in the orchard under the warm summer dusk. Ruthlessly he thrust the memory away, but it made him reflect that perhaps he ought to talk to Ginger in case things went too far. It was so easy to get carried away and it was wartime. The constant presence of death made people do things they would not normally contemplate. He had recently received a complaint from his opposite number in the WAAF about one of the airmen getting an aircraftswoman into trouble. Fortunately that had been resolved happily and the pair were due to marry shortly. If Ginger was feeling an attraction to the opposite sex, it was as well to remind him of what that might entail, felt Biggles. He would be failing in his duty to the lad if he didn't point out to Ginger that his actions might have consequences and that he should be mindful of his responsibilities, particularly in view of the fact there was a strong chance that he might not be around if things went badly on the coming mission.

Algy watched his cousin. He thought he could guess what was going through Biggles' mind. Silently Algy cursed the spy who had blighted Biggles' life; there had been no thought of another woman since that happened, reflected Algy. It was as though Biggles had locked his emotion away and thrown away the key. He sighed inwardly. He could not understand that attitude at all. Women were a bit of fun, not a serious commitment. His brothers were happily married and had produced heirs and to spare, so he did not have any dynastic worries. There was no point in pining over what you could not have and preventing yourself from enjoying life. It's strange, he thought, that Biggles, who is so practical in other respects about not regretting the past, should make an exception for that experience. If only he would get over her, thought Algy.

"I'll talk to him," said Biggles and Algy stood up, headed for the door.

"Would you like me to be with you?" he asked.

"No, thank you," declined Biggles curtly. "I think I can manage this interview on my own. Your Lothario input is not required."

Algy chuckled. "Try not to be too Puritanical," he enjoined more seriously. "And don't come down too hard on him," he warned his cousin. "You don't want to put Ginger off women for life."

After Algy's departure Biggles unlocked the drawer and drew out the manila folder again. He considered the implications of the mission and weighed up his chances. He had already put his affairs in order, he thought, it was only right that he should make sure he discharged his paternal duties to Ginger as well before he left.

He contemplated his options. He could invite Ginger for a formal talk in his office or he could have a casual conversation at an appropriate moment. Biggles rejected the former on the grounds that it would either make Ginger suspicious that he was not going to be around, or make him think that his relations with the opposite sex were frowned upon. Biggles had to admit that he did not want Ginger to feel he could not have a normal loving relationship with a girl during courtship, or even get married if he chose. If things had been different, reflected Biggles, and he and Marie could have married … Abruptly he thrust the thought away. To dwell on that was madness, he told himself sternly.

He thrust the folder back into the drawer and locked it before picking up his cap and going out to tour the airfield in order to keep his mind from disturbing thoughts. He knew that the grapevine would be warning the sections that the CO was on his way for a snap inspection. He found it helpful to distract himself by checking up that everyone was doing their job properly and it did improve efficiency, he thought, even if it was unpopular.

His mood lifted as he toured the kitchens. Everything was spotless and the food looked appetising. It wasn't only an army that marched on its stomach, he thought. Dispersal was likewise tidy and well run. No complaints.

At the end of his inspection, there were only a few minor infringements and they could quickly be rectified, he mused. He made his way to the Mess to ask the steward if there were any problems in his department.

As Biggles came into the ante room, he spotted Ginger sitting on one of the sofas reading a copy of Popular Flying. Seeing that there was no one else around, Biggles abandoned his original plan and sat beside his protégé.

Ginger looked up and closed the magazine.

Not wishing to plunge straight into the object of his talk, Biggles began by making a few comments about an article in the publication and they discussed flying for some minutes before Biggles managed to bring the subject round to the topic of relationships.

"You know, Ginger," said Biggles casually, "I have always tried to do my best for your education."

Ginger nodded, wondering if he was about to be sent on a course to improve his flying.

"I think it's only fair that I have a word with you about your relations with …" Biggles hesitated. How should he put it? Women? Females? The opposite sex? No, not that, he thought, he did not want to put that into Ginger's head at this stage. "… girls," he eventually chose.

Ginger looked at Biggles, wondering if he was going to have another talk on the birds and the bees. Biggles knew that he understood about that, he thought. Why should he bring this up now? Then he thought of Fiona and he blushed.

"I took Fiona to the cinema last night," he ventured.

"Yes, and that's why I felt perhaps I should have a little talk with you," Biggles told him. "A spot of fatherly advice, if you like."

Ginger braced himself for a lecture.

"It's good that you are showing an interest in girls," began Biggles. "It means you're growing up and it's all perfectly healthy."

Ginger nodded warily, wondering what was coming.

"I just wanted to point out that you have to consider the young woman's side of things. Don't trifle with her affections. Don't start something that you don't intend to finish," advised Biggles.

"You mean I shouldn't invite her to the cinema unless I am prepared to marry her?" asked Ginger perplexed, wondering if that was what Biggles meant by finishing what he had started.

"No, that is not what I meant," said Biggles with asperity. He took a deep breath, thinking it was not going to be as easy as he had thought. "Of course you need to get to know her and going to the cinema or a dance is one way of doing that. I meant that if you saw a lot of her, asked her out on a regular basis, she might think that you were interested in marrying her. That might encourage her to let you …" again Biggles hesitated and chose his words carefully. "… take liberties," he concluded.

"I see," said Ginger slowly, although he did not really. He had enjoyed being with Fiona and holding her in his arms, but he only wanted to kiss her. Was that what Biggles meant by 'taking liberties'? Had he already overstepped the mark? Was this why Biggles was having the talk with him? Had Fiona thought better of letting him kiss her and complained to the Queen Bee?

"Have you had a complaint?" asked Ginger tentatively.

"No, why?"

"I kissed Fiona in the cinema and in front of the WAAF block," confessed Ginger. "I thought she might have changed her mind about letting me."

"No, I think Fiona was quite happy to let you kiss her," Biggles reassured him. "There is no harm in kissing. I just think you should be aware that if you contemplate going any further it might have more serious consequences."

"So I shouldn't see Fiona again, is that what you are saying?" asked Ginger, trying to clarify Biggles' advice.

"No, Ginger, what I'm saying is that you shouldn't go to bed with her unless you are prepared to marry her," Biggles finally spelled out bluntly.

Ginger was shocked. He felt the blood rush to his face and didn't know what to say. He had never even contemplated sleeping with Fiona. He hardly knew her.

"And in case you don't realise exactly what I'm talking about," clarified Biggles, deciding it was in for a penny, in for a pound, "I don't just mean falling asleep beside her. You would ruin her reputation. She would be damaged goods and you could even leave her with an illegitimate child. What if you were killed and she had to fend for herself?" he asked the young man. The thought of Marie in such a situation was bitter and he ruthlessly thrust it away.

Ginger's jaw dropped open. "I didn't … I haven't …" he stuttered. "I didn't feel I wanted to …"

"Then Fiona is not the girl for you," Biggles told him sagely. "When you meet the right girl you will want to. That doesn't mean you shouldn't wait until you're married," he admonished the lad severely.

"I see," murmured Ginger, shocked to the core. He swallowed. "Perhaps I should tell Fiona that it won't come to anything. She's nice and it was fun being with her, but I don't want to marry her and raise a family with her."

Biggles looked at him approvingly. "In that case, I think that would be a very good idea," he stated gently. "That way, no one is going to get hurt. I should also add," he told the young man, "that the sooner you do it, the better. Don't ask her to the cinema again unless you want the relationship to continue and possibly develop. Otherwise, Fiona may get very attached to you and will probably be imagining herself walking down the aisle with you."

"Yes," said Ginger slowly. "I see what you mean," and this time he really did.

"Good," said Biggles standing up and shaking the lad's hand as he was about to go. "I'm glad we've had this little chat. I'd hate to think I'd left you unprepared for life."

"Thanks," muttered Ginger. "I'll just go and see Fiona now."

"Be prepared for tears," Biggles warned him, remembering the stormy interview with Stella Carstairs when he had quit the air transport company that bore his name. "Women tend to cry if they are disappointed, but she will get over it. In no time at all, she'll find another young man to replace you in her affections. I suspect that she knows you are not the right man for her, for all that she enjoyed having you kiss her."

Ginger looked doubtful, but Biggles proved to be absolutely right. Fiona did cry when he broke the news as gently as he could that, although she was charming, pretty and good company, on reflection, he felt their relationship had no future and she would be better to find someone else, but within a week he saw her walking out with one of the Hurricane pilots. They both looked radiantly happy and they could barely keep their hands off each other. Ginger smiled and wished them both well. He felt no pangs of jealousy, but he did wonder if he would ever meet a nice girl and fall in love. Sadly, he resigned himself to the likelihood of there being no prospect of that in the foreseeable future.

Ginger would have liked to tell Biggles about the satisfactory ending to the affair, but his CO had gone on leave without saying where he was going. Ginger thought it odd that he had left no forwarding address. It was not like Biggles to disobey regulations, he thought, and then Algy called him into the office to tell him that in Biggles' absence, he, Algy, had now been put in charge of the squadron.