The 9

by Madalyn Morgan

  When the man from MI5 had finished speaking, Commander Dalton gave a sharp nod. He looked from Ena to Herbert Silcott. ‘Do you have any questions, or anything to add?’

  ‘What happened to Frieda’s uncle?’ Mr Silcott asked. ‘She was very fond of him. Was he also a spy?’

  ‘There was no uncle. The spare room with its single bed and wardrobe full of an elderly man’s clothes was part of their cover story.’

  With the man from MI5 on one side of her and Commander Dalton on the other, Ena had felt out of her depth. But when she saw the commander close the file on Henry Green, she said, ‘I have a question.’ Knowing Henry would be tried and hung for treason, Ena had to say something on his behalf, however futile. The commander slowly lifted his head and sucked in a breath. He looked at Ena, a pained expression on his face. The other men followed his gaze. ‘I do not believe Henry Green is a spy. He saved my life the night I was followed.’

  The commander looked at the MI5 man, who raised his eyebrows. They don’t believe me, she thought, and desperate to convince them, cried, ‘I’ve known Henry since I was a child. And on the night he rescued me from who I now know was Walter Voight, we spent hours talking in the Station Hotel. He told me that he would have joined the services, except he was recruited to work at Bletchley.’ The commander looked down at Henry’s closed file. ‘He didn’t inveigle his way into Bletchley, Commander Dalton, you recruited him.’ There was another look between the two men, but neither said anything, so Ena carried on. ‘Sir,’ she said to the man from MI5, ‘I would like you to look into what you have on Henry Green. And when you do, you’ll realise that a terrible mistake has been made – and that Henry is not a traitor.’

  ‘I’m afraid he is, Miss Dudley,’ the MI5 man said. ‘When we searched the house in Northampton we found Nazi propaganda – printed leaflets and pamphlets. The originals were in Henry Green’s handwriting. Ena’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I’m sorry, my dear.’

  Standing up, Mr Robinson took Ena’s hand and gently shook it. ‘I must get back to London.’ After shaking the hands of Commander Dalton and Herbert Silcott, he picked up his belongings and made for the door.

  Ena started to go after him but was stopped by Mr Silcott who gripped her by the forearm and whispered, ‘No!’ She began to protest but quietened when the commander turned at the door and shot her a fierce look.

  ‘Sit down, Ena,’ Mr Silcott said.

  ‘And calm down,’ Commander Dalton barked, walking back to his desk.

  Ena dropped into the nearest chair and put her head in her hands.

  ‘We’d better go too, Horace. Come on, Ena.’ Her boss put his hands on her shoulders and she lifted her head. ‘You’re exhausted. Let’s go to the hotel and have something to eat. It’s been a long and stressful day.’

  Ena stood up, and with her head held high, looked into Commander Dalton’s eyes. She braced herself to tell him again that Henry was not a spy, but her nerve failed and she offered him her hand. ‘Goodbye.’

  ‘Goodbye, Ena.’ The commander took her hand, but instead of shaking it, he held it. ‘I understand how unhappy you are about Henry. I liked him too, very much. But in war it is necessary to sacrifice a few to save many. I want you to remember that. Remember too that your bravery in exposing Frieda and Walter Voight for spies has saved thousands of lives.

  I can’t say anymore, but with Walter’s connections to the MoD and Frieda’s here, if it hadn’t been for you, God knows how much havoc they would have caused.’ Ena smiled thinly through her tears. ‘I’ll get a car to take you to the hotel. And,’ he said, picking up the telephone, ‘I hope to see you in a couple of weeks.’

  It was only five o’clock but it was already dusk. Standing in the doorway of the mansion, waiting for Herbert Silcott, Ena watched the commander’s big black motorcar drive up from the direction of the motor pool. The car cruised to a halt a few feet from her and the driver got out and stood by the back door. Ena waved to him to let him know it was her that he was driving, and he touched his cap.

  Arriving at her side, Herbert Silcott said, ‘Right, let’s get an early dinner. Horace Dalton has recommended somewhere just outside of Bletchley.’

  ‘I’m not sure I’ll be able to eat anything,’ Ena sighed.

  The driver opened the door nearest to Ena and she dropped onto the back seat. Herbert Silcott walked round to the other side of the car and got in. ‘Drat!’ he said, as the driver was about to close his door. ‘Hang on a minute will you?’ He opened his briefcase. ‘I thought as much.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I’ve left my portfolio case in Dalton’s office.’ Jumping out of the car he said to the driver, ‘You know where you’re going.’ And to Ena, ‘I’ll see you there.’

  ‘Can’t you come back for it in the morning? There’ll be time after breakfast, before--’

  ‘There are documents I must look at tonight, in case I do need to return tomorrow.’ Closing the car door, Herbert Silcott tapped the roof and the driver started the engine. Ena sank back into the soft leather seat and the car purred gracefully down the drive.

  As they neared the main gate Ena took her identity card and Bletchley pass from her handbag, but the familiar vehicle was waved through.

  The rhythmic hum of the big saloon made her sleepy and she closed her eyes. She felt the car pull to the left as it turned a corner, a slight jolt, and then the gentle throb as the engine laboured in neutral. Thinking they had arrived at the hotel, Ena opened her eyes.

  ‘Why have we stopped?’ she asked, looking out of the window into descending darkness. Leaning forward, Ena tapped the driver on the shoulder. ‘Where are we?’

  The driver half turned and started to answer her when the shrieking sound of an army transport train drowned his words. A second later, enveloped in smoke and steam, the car gently rocked. ‘Railway crossing barrier,’ the driver shouted when the train had passed.

  ‘I gathered that! But why are we at a railway crossing?’ She felt edgy. She had been anxious all day, but now she was panicked. In all the times she had been to Bletchley she had never noticed a railway crossing. ‘Where are you taking me?’

  ‘Don’t worry, miss, you’ll come to no harm.’ The barrier rose and the car rumbled over the railway tracks to meet the road on the other side. Soon they were driving down country lanes made darker than night by overhanging trees.

  Unable to see anything out of the side window, Ena leaned forward and craned her neck to look through the windscreen. From the small amount of illumination given off by the vehicle’s shaded headlights, she could only see a few feet of road directly in front of them. ‘I want to know where you’re taking me!’

  ‘My orders are to take you to the Goose Down Inn at Stoney Arden.’

  ‘Where? It doesn’t matter. Why are you taking me there?’

  ‘I don’t know, miss. Commander Dalton just said I was to take you there, and wait for you. When you’re ready to leave, I’m to drive you back to Bletchley, to join Mr Silcott at the hotel.’

  Ena relaxed a little. At least if she was being taken to an inn on orders from the commander she wasn’t being kidnapped. She felt a slight jerk as the car accelerated.

  For a while they travelled at a reasonable speed, then the car slowed and turned off the road.

  ‘We’re here, miss. The Goose Down Inn.’

  Ena stepped out of the car, cautiously. ‘Where am I to go?’

  ‘The bar. By the back door.’ The driver pointed across an expanse of ground, which Ena thought was a car park, to the corner of the building. ‘Give the landlord your name. He’s expecting you. More than that, miss, I wasn’t told.’

  ‘You will wait for me, won’t you?’

  The driver nodded.

  Ena made for the corner of the building. Almost immediately, she saw a sliver of light radiating from a door that stood slightly ajar. She put her ear to it. She could hear the mumbling and chattering of people enjoying themselves. With caution, she pushed open th
e door, stepped inside, and closed it behind her.

  From the dimly lit passageway, she saw elderly men sitting four to a table playing cards in a smog of pipe and cigarette smoke. She entered the room unnoticed. Ena had wondered how she’d know the landlord but there was only one man behind the bar. He wore an off-white cellarman’s apron and stood at the end of the long counter, drying glasses. As she approached him, the man put down the glass and pushed the drying-up cloth into his belt. ‘What can I get you, miss?’

  ‘My name is Ena,’ she whispered. And taking her purse from her handbag, said in a normal voice, ‘Half of bitter please.’

  The landlord pulled the beer but instead of passing it to her, said, ‘I think you’d be more comfortable in the snug, miss. If you’d like to follow me?’

  Ena dropped her purse back into her bag and with every nerve in her body tensed, her eyes alert, she allowed him to lead her out of the bar to a small entrance hall. The landlord crossed to a door, opened it, and entered. Ena followed. The room was dimly lit with tables and chairs along the walls. Behind her was a serving hatch with the word Closed on what looked like a blackout blind.

  The landlord passed Ena her drink and nodded to the end of the room. A fire roared up a large chimney and there were armchairs on either side of it. Nervously Ena walked towards the vacant chairs. She was almost there when the snug door banged shut. Startled, she turned. The landlord had left.

  Ena lowered herself onto the chair on the left. What had begun as nervousness had turned into fear. She kept telling herself that neither Commander Dalton nor Mr Silcott would put her in danger.

  ‘Hello,’ a familiar voice said from the darkness by the door.

  Ena turned and peered in the direction of the voice, not daring to believe her ears. ‘Henry?’ As he walked towards her, the light from the fire lit up his face. Ena leapt to her feet and ran into his arms. ‘I thought I’d never see you again!’

  With his arms around her, Henry walked her back to her chair by the fire. Then he dragged the armchair from the other side of the hearth until it was next to Ena’s, and sat down. Ena reached up, touched Henry’s face, and smiled.

  Henry took her hand, kissed it, and smiled back at her. It wasn’t a happy smile. He looked tired, but it was more than that, much more. She was frightened of what the answer would be, but she had to ask. ‘What is it, Henry? Now Walter and Freda have been caught it’s over, isn’t it?’

  ‘No, Ena. It isn’t over. It won’t be over until the war is over.’

  ‘But you’re free. They must know you weren’t involved, or you wouldn’t be here.’

  ‘Darling, you don’t understand.’

  ‘Then make me understand.’

  Henry took a pack of Players and his lighter from his jacket pocket. He offered Ena a cigarette, which she drew from the pack with trembling hands. Henry lit hers before lighting his own.

  She took a pull on the cigarette. She felt a little dizzy. She had inhaled too deeply. She leaned back in her chair, watched the man she loved smoke his cigarette, waiting for him to explain.

  Henry looked into Ena’s eyes. ‘If I tell you, I could be putting your life in danger.’

  ‘I don’t care. I need to know. Just tell me, Henry.’

  ‘Walter and I escaped. MI5 staged a breakout. Of course, Walter doesn’t know they were involved, he thinks it was his idea, his resourcefulness. He has always been arrogant. But that’s beside the point. I have to live and work with him until I know who the other members of the spy ring are.’

  ‘Can’t you tell him you’ve had enough? Say you’ve lost your nerve. Then he’d think you were a liability and be glad to see the back of you.’

  ‘He would, but he’d never let me walk away, I know too much. He’d kill me rather than let me go.’ Ena gasped in horror. ‘Don’t worry, darling, he won’t hurt me. Without Frieda, he needs me.’ Henry left his seat and pulled Ena into his arms. ‘It’s time you left,’ he whispered.

  ‘When shall I see you again?’

  ‘You won’t.’ Ena tried to pull away from him, but he held her tightly. ‘It’s too dangerous for you, and for me.’ Ena remembered the look of hate in Walter’s eyes when he saw her in Frieda’s seat on the train. She cast her eyes down. She understood. She didn’t want to, but she did.

  Henry lifted her chin and kissed her gently. ‘Time to go.’

  The feelings she had for him, the feelings that overwhelmed her on the night of the dance, came flooding back. She closed her eyes. ‘I don’t want to go. I love you, Henry, please don’t send me away.’ Ena stepped back. She looked into his face. ‘Let me stay with you tonight.’

  ‘There is nothing in the world that I would love more, but--’

  ‘But what? Give me one good reason why two people who want to be together shouldn’t be.’

  ‘I can’t think of one, I can think of several, and they’re all dangerous.’ Henry held her at arm’s length. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes. I’ve never been more sure about anything. Can we get a room here?’

  ’I’m booked in for tonight. I’ll check it’s okay if you stay. If it is, I’ll go out to Horace’s driver and ask him to come back at nine in the morning. He won’t like it that you’re staying. Horace won’t either, but since I don’t work for him anymore, it will be you who will have to face his wrath the next time you see him.’ Henry kissed Ena and left.

  It felt like an age until Henry returned. ‘I thought you’d run out on me,’ Ena said.

  ‘Never.’ Holding Ena’s hand, Henry led her out of the snug and along the corridor to a narrow staircase. ‘The servants’ stairs,’ he whispered. ‘Hope you don’t mind, but you never know who’s knocking about in the public area.’

  They soon arrived at Henry’s room. He took a key from his trousers pocket and unlocked the door. Turning to Ena, he put his finger to his lips and made the quietest shhhh sound before slowly pushing open the door and disappearing inside. Ena waited on the landing until Henry emerged some minutes later and beckoned her in. Closing the door quietly, he locked it behind her.

  ‘Is this what it’s going to be like for you from now on, Henry? Always on your guard. Checking every room, wherever you go?’

  ‘Pretty much,’ he said. Taking Ena by the hand, he sat her on the bed. ‘I work for MI5,’ he said, sitting next to her. ‘I always have.’

  ‘I thought you worked for Commander Dalton at Bletchley Park.’

  ‘I did. The work they do at Bletchley Park is vital to us winning the war. I’m pleased I was able to contribute in a small way. But all the time I worked there, I answered to military intelligence. I was recruited by MI5 at university. The minute I realised Walter Voight was trying to turn me, I got in touch with them. Now, of course, Walter thinks he did turn me.’

  Henry took Ena’s hands in his. ‘While I’m working undercover, on the run with Walter Voight, I will be in constant danger.’ Ena’s eyes began to smart and she bit her lip. ‘I’m not telling you this to frighten you, Ena, I’m telling you because for me to survive, I need to concentrate on the job a hundred percent. And I won’t be able to do that if I’m worrying about you. So for my sake, as well as your own, when you leave here tomorrow you must forget about me.’

  Ena looked into Henry’s eyes, her own brimming with tears. ‘That’s tomorrow,’ she said, and lifted her face to his. Henry kissed her tenderly on the lips. Ena responded by kissing him back, hungrily. ‘I’m chilled to the bone,’ she whispered. ‘Take me to bed, Henry, and make love to me.’

  Henry held Ena away from him, his handsome face full of concern. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes. It’s what I’ve wanted since the first time I saw you at Bletchley, the day my work was stolen. I didn’t know it then – my head was full of drugs. But when I was leaving and you called my name I felt something stir inside me that I have never felt before. At the time I confused it with the crush I had on you when I was a child. But I knew after the dance that what I felt for you was love. I fe
el it now. I’m in love with you, Henry.’

  ‘But I can’t be with you, Ena. Not tomorrow, or the next day, not even next year--’

  ‘I know. I accept that. So why do you want to deny me your love tonight?’

  ‘I don’t,’ he said, and without taking his eyes off her, Henry took off his clothes. Then he pulled her to her feet and undressed her. Together they threw back the bedclothes and climbed into the bed. Shivering – not from the cold, but from the excitement of being made love to for the first time – Ena snuggled up to Henry. He pulled the blankets up around her shoulders and held her until she relaxed. Then he made love to her slowly and gently, guiding her, and helping her to enjoy him as much as he was enjoying her.

  Afterwards, glowing from their lovemaking, safe in Henry’s arms, Ena said, ‘I shall wait for you, Henry. The war can’t go on forever. One day it will end and--’

  ‘I don’t want you to wait for me, Ena.’ Henry eased himself up until he was half sitting and lent on his elbow. Looking into her face, he said, ‘I want you to forget about me.’

  ‘How can I forget about you? I love you, Henry. What am I supposed to do, forget tonight ever happened?’

  ‘Yes. Because to survive the next however many years, I must forget about tonight. Damn it, Ena, if Walter Voight finds out I work for MI5, he’ll go after anyone connected to me. He hates you already for exposing him and Frieda. God knows what he’d do if he knew I love you.’ Henry reached for his cigarettes.

  ‘Do you? Do you love me, Henry?’

  ‘Yes. I do. But,’ he said, after taking two cigarettes out of the pack, and lighting them, ‘No one can know that I love you, or that we were here tonight. It has to be kept secret. There’s too much at stake.’

  As they lay together smoking, Ena said, ‘I liked her, you know – Freda.’

  Henry kissed the top of Ena’s head. ‘She liked you too.’

  ‘Did she? Even though she made me think I’d killed a man. How could she do that if she liked me?’

  ‘It was her way of getting you to trust her, making you beholden to her. She probably knew she couldn’t turn you, so she needed something to hold over you. She’d have used it, too.’