‘Why, would you look at that?’ Dorothy Moncrieff tugged at her mother-in-law’s sleeve. Together they stared out the window as Arch edged the car slowly down Lambton Quay. The footpaths were busier than usual, groups of people hovering in front of shop windows listening to the radio. Cissie, who was sitting in the front seat, looked where Dorothy was pointing. A tram had come to a standstill on the other side of the road. On its side a large notice board was strung, emblazoned with bold lettering. The message was simple and unmistakable.
Trans-Tasman Flight, NZ airmen left Sydney today
Expected arrive Trentham late this afternoon.
Arch nodded at the pedestrians. ‘Town’s been like it all morning. Seems a fair few have caught your husbands’ flying fever.’
‘Yes, well, it’s a pity they coul
