Brighter Days Ahead

by Mary Wood

  ‘How, what? How did your friend die?’

  ‘All of it? We – we were asleep, that’s all. Innocently resting after being up all night – Simon to travel here, and me after being on duty all night.’

  ‘In the same bed?’

  Roland just nodded. ‘But how did the police know? Why did they burst into my house? It was my own private sanctuary. I wasn’t doing anything wrong. There’s no law about sleeping in the day with a friend by your side.’

  ‘Rest your mind now. Drink this tea and swallow down these pills. We’ll try to make sense of everything in the morning.’

  ‘Peter, they were trying to fix Simon up as a murderer. Don’t let them. Simon wouldn’t hurt anyone.’

  ‘I’ll do what I have to do, Roland. The evidence will speak up for Simon, without any help from me. Not that I would do anything to make it lean either way, whoever I am dealing with.’

  ‘Oh, Peter, I didn’t mean that. I meant: don’t let them bend the truth. They have made up their bigoted minds about us and want to get us, no matter what it takes. I just wanted you not to let that happen.’

  ‘Of course I won’t, my dear fellow. Don’t worry. Now that they have called me in, I am in charge of both bodies. They cannot even move them without my say-so. I’m going to have them taken immediately to the mortuary and will do the autopsies myself. It’s usually me or Dr Clinton who does them now. Medical staff of all disciplines are very short on the ground, as so many are abroad or working in specialized hospitals for the wounded.’

  Most of this merged into a haze, as the sedative took effect and Roland drifted off. His last thoughts, before finally succumbing to a deep slumber, were to beg of God that when he awoke, his nightmare would be over and all this wouldn’t have happened.

  22

  Flo

  Trying to Grasp Reality

  Her bike ride to Bletchley the first morning after her rest days exhilarated Flo. She’d managed to change her shift pattern from the night-shift to the 8 a.m. till 4 p.m., the one she liked most.

  A hunting owl, fooled by the darkness into thinking it was still night-time, hooted from his hideout in the tree, no doubt thinking her a competitor. The eerie sound in the stillness around her increased the feeling deep inside her that all wasn’t well. Why didn’t Simon ring at all over the two-day break? He promised he would.

  Although she’d been really busy, she’d missed him so much. The two days had been good, and she’d wanted to share that with Simon. Twice she’d got as far as lifting the receiver and starting to dial Roland’s number, but had stopped herself. She had to get used to being apart from Simon. He’d made his choice, she was sure of it, and she had to allow him that, just as she said she would. But although she’d told herself this over and over again, she’d still wanted to hear his voice and let him know what was happening. That Molly was safe; that Pauline was well and had taken Molly in; and that the afternoon working on the van had been fun. But deep inside, she knew, she’d wanted more. Maybe to hear him say that he’d missed her, or that he had chosen her . . . Stop it, Flo. How was she to get better from this state of being in love? Simon was constantly on her mind. She couldn’t wait to see him.

  The thought of doing so enhanced the enjoyment of her journey. Pedalling faster, she marvelled at how her bicycle-light lit the lightly snow-covered ground, turning it into a diamond-encrusted carpet.

  Today was going to be exciting, for more reasons than simply seeing Simon again. Belinda had left a hand-delivered letter for Flo at her billet, in which she’d said she would remain on the eight-till-four shift a while longer and would be at Bletchley Park at the same time as Flo this week. Flo had heard that this new system was under discussion and was glad it had been put into action.

  The note asked if Flo and Simon, who were always on the same shift as each other, would like to meet her after work at the new flat. We need to finalize things, Flo, Belinda had written, and had gone on to ask if she and Simon could bring their share of the first month’s rent. Flo had hers tucked safely into her bra, along with enough to cover Simon’s, as she thought he was unlikely to be able to get to his bank in time.

  Keeping her excess money somewhere safe had been a concern to her. She really needed to ask Simon to help her to open a bank account, as she hadn’t a clue how to do so, or even if folk such as her were considered good enough to have one.

  The last thing Belinda had asked for was whether they had any connections to anyone who had a van or a trailer, as that would be handy, too. Flo hadn’t, at least not down in this neck of the woods. She had plenty of folk to call on in Leeds, but it was too far for them to travel. She hoped Simon might be able to help out with that problem.

  Belinda had said they would need a trailer, as she’d asked her parents about letting her have some of their surplus furniture, and they had invited all three of them down to their home to choose what they wanted. Though they had stipulated that they themselves had to arrange transport for whatever they took. Belinda’s note had ended, I’ll explain when I see you. And was signed: Belinda x.

  Just thinking of how her life was going to change spurred Flo on.

  Pedalling through the wrought-iron gates, she was surprised to be stopped by the guard. ‘Sorry, Miss, but I have a message for you. You’re to report to General Pradstow.’

  Her heart dropped. She had a feeling that this summons had something to do with Simon. No one was ever called to the general’s office unless they were in deep trouble or he had received bad news for them. Oh God, don’t let anything have happened to Simon. Please . . . Please!

  She knew something had happened, the moment she entered the general’s office. Belinda sat in a chair in front of his desk and turned her head towards Flo. Her expression told her something Flo didn’t want to hear. Without taking any notice of protocol, Flo blurted out, ‘No! Not Simon? Please tell me it ain’t Simon, Belinda?’

  Belinda stood and came towards her. Part of Flo wanted to knock her away, as accepting her would mean accepting what she was going to say; and she didn’t want to, so she stood still. Her body stiffened, and an invisible shield formed a barrier around her heart. Whatever Belinda said, it wouldn’t hurt her – she wouldn’t let it.

  Belinda must have known that an attempt to hold and hug her wouldn’t work, as she stopped her progress and stood within arm’s distance. ‘Flo, I’m sorry. I – I . . . It’s Simon. He’s been killed.’

  Flo took in a deep breath that she never thought she would release again. When she did, questions came with it. ‘What? How? Why?’

  ‘I – I’m afraid it’s a sorry story, love. Come and sit down.’

  Flo looked from Belinda to the general. He hadn’t spoken, other than to ask her into his office, but now he nodded. His face had a haggard expression, his countenance one of someone calling upon his inner self-control. And yet he was leaving everything to Belinda.

  ‘Naw, Belinda. Naw! It ain’t true, it ain’t – not Simon!’

  Belinda just looked at her and nodded. Something about the command she had over the situation, and the empathy she showed, made Flo do as she said and sit down.

  ‘It is true, Flo. What I have to tell you is a very sad reflection on our society.’ The general coughed. Belinda looked over at him, her look defiant.

  Obviously the general doesn’t agree with Belinda’s thinking. ‘It was to do with him being homosexual then, Belinda?’

  Flo listened in horror as Belinda told her exactly what had happened. Shock held her in a vice-like grip. She couldn’t react. She wanted to scream and scream, but all she could do was stare. But as the truth dawned on her, she pulled herself up. ‘This will all be Kitty Hamlin’s doing. She told me only the other day that she was going to get Simon put in prison.’

  ‘But surely she wouldn’t actually do anything about her threats. I mean, how?’ Belinda asked.

  Though her voice shook, Flo stated her reasons. ‘She followed Simon to London once and turned up in the same pub where
we were having a drink. Simon felt intimidated. You see, not only did she hate what Simon was, but she wanted to destroy him, because he knew she’s having an affair with a married officer, John Perry. Simon caught them having sexual relations around the back of one of the huts. He didn’t report them, but he was beaten up for mentioning it.’ Unable to understand how calm she felt, Flo told the general just what had taken place, as Simon had reported it to her and Roland.

  The general didn’t react. She shouldn’t have expected him to. Whether he had a mind to do anything or not, he wouldn’t share his thoughts with her, or even appear to believe her. But that didn’t stop her raising her voice to him, as the frustration of it all made her want to hit out at somebody. ‘You have to do something, sir. Kitty has caused the death of two people with her spite. And – and is responsible for another good man going to prison.’ Flo knew she was screeching, but couldn’t stop herself. ‘Please, General – sir, please.’

  ‘Wren Harper, please fetch the doctor in.’

  ‘I don’t need the doctor. I – I . . . Oh, Simon.’ Flo could contain her grief no longer. A deluge of sobbing seized her body and rendered her like a rag doll. She slumped onto her arms on the general’s desk.

  ‘Wren Kilgallon, I’m so sorry. I thought a lot of Officer Fulworth. I knew his family a long time ago. This is going to be devastating for his mother, who, as you know, has only recently lost her only daughter. How she is going to come to terms with the circumstances around her son’s death, I do not know. I will write to his parents, of course, but I wonder if you will consider doing so, too? Wren Harper tells me you were also a friend of Simon’s sister, so I know this is a double-blow for you, as well. But, as such, you will have so much to tell their parents that would be a comfort to them, whereas I can only relate the sordid facts.’

  ‘They weren’t sordid, sir. At least, Simon’s love for Roland wasn’t. Theirs was a good love. A loyal love, and a strong, binding love. Simon was dedicated to his work here an’ all, and gifted in finding the right menus and cribs for the Bombe. He was kind and thoughtful, if extremely lonely, due to his treatment here. He deserves that you think more of this part of his life, and concentrate on his good points, as you would any other officer; and don’t pay as much attention to your own bigoted ideas about his private life. Aye, and Roland deserves some consideration an’ all, as you’d give naturally to a widow or widower. A small letter of condolence wouldn’t go amiss, but I doubt it will ever be sent!’

  ‘Wren Kilgallon. I must ask you to rein in your tirade of abuse. I understand how you feel, but it does not give you the right to speak to your commanding officer in the way you are doing. Please consider your own position. I would very much regret having to put you on a charge, but mark my words, any more of this and I will.’

  Flo couldn’t apologize. Nothing mattered to her any longer. Her world had collapsed at her feet.

  ‘As you say, Wren Kilgallon, Fulworth was gifted, but so are you. A lot of vital information may be lost, if you cannot carry on. You know how much the war effort depends on us here. The other code-breakers are stretched as far as they can be. You know this without me telling you. To have two down would be a disaster. Already, with both of you having a break this week, there is a backlog. Somewhere amongst it may be information that will save us losing one of our ships and all the men aboard her, or will give advance warning of an attack, so that our army generals can work at a counter-attack.’

  ‘I know, sir. I don’t intend to have time off. Simon wouldn’t want that of me, and I couldn’t cope – I need to work. But, I can’t do so with that Kitty—’

  ‘Don’t say any more. I will deal with that subject. As soon as I can, I will get you a new partner to work with. I’ll ask some of the boffins if they know of anyone. If not, we’ll have to approach Oxford or Cambridge for their bright stars – or have them directed.’

  Flo was shocked to hear the general discuss these things with her, but supposed his strategy was to take her mind off everything that was happening and focus it elsewhere. She’d used the same tactics with Simon, to help him with his grief over Lucinda. Well, darling Simon, now you are with Lucinda. At least, I hope you are. There’d be no justice in God if he didn’t arrange that, as I can’t bear to think of you carrying on being lonely. Oh, Simon . . . Simon.

  A knock on the door saw the doctor entering with Belinda.

  ‘I’m all right, ta, Doctor. I’ve work to do. I’ve to carry on, for Simon’s sake. I’ll get over to me office now, sir.’ This last she directed at the general and managed a smart salute.

  ‘No, not straight away, Flo. Go with Wren Harper and have a hot drink, and take the tablets with you that the doctor has brought for you. You can always fall back on them if you need them.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’ Wanting to escape, Flo saluted again, turned smartly and marched towards the doctor.

  He gave her a strip of tablets. ‘Take one at a time, and allow four hours in between. Only take them when you can rest afterwards. And don’t hesitate to get in touch with me if you feel ill in any way. Shock can cause many things to happen to you.’

  ‘Thank you, Doctor.’

  Not trusting herself to do any different, Flo walked through the door and along the corridor, her head held high, her walk precise, as if she was on parade.

  ‘Hey, slow down, love. Flo?’

  ‘Sorry, Belinda, I daren’t. I’ve to get to the canteen, then I knaw as I’ll be reet.’

  Belinda didn’t try to persuade her again, but fell into step with Flo. When they reached the canteen, it was mercifully empty. Flo slumped into a chair. Everything about herself felt unreal. Everything she’d been told and had done seemed to have no meaning. By, did I really shout at the general?

  ‘Flo? Look, I’ll get you a cup of strong tea. Though I doubt there’s any sugar again – goodness knows where it goes; it certainly isn’t rationed amongst us all.’

  ‘I don’t need sugar. A saccharine will do.’ When Belinda came back to the table, Flo blurted out, ‘I can’t go back to me billet, Belinda, not tonight – I can’t. Oh, Belinda, what will I do?’

  ‘We’ll stay at the flat. The shop up the road will still be open when we leave here. The landlord’s agent is meeting us at five. Once we’ve paid a month’s rent, the place is ours. Have you brought some money with you, Flo?’

  ‘Aye, I brought two-thirds of it, as I thought as Simon . . . he might not have the cash on him. I were going to lend it to him.’

  ‘That’s top-hole, well done, my dear. Now we’ll have the full rent. I’ll get us some supplies, as I brought extra money for that. I was planning that we might cook our dinner and eat it on our knees, whilst sitting on the floor. A good icebreaker between me and . . . well, anyway—’

  ‘Don’t do that, Belinda. Don’t not talk of Simon, I couldn’t bear it. You’re me only friend here now, and I have to be able to talk to you about him or I’ll go mad.’

  ‘Right. Just as you want it. I’m a good listener, Flo. And if it helps to talk, I won’t mind.’

  ‘Ta, Belinda.’ Flo marvelled at how she could make these arrangements with Belinda, and at how calm she felt. Not calm – detached. That was it; none of it had really touched her yet. Not even Roland’s plight. She couldn’t give her mind to him. There was too much to take in.

  ‘Our only problem is: how are we going to sleep? We’ll have warmth, as we have electrics and there’s an electric fire, and then the oven and cooker rings – we can turn the whole blooming lot on. And there are blackout curtains up already. But that’s it.’

  Flo couldn’t think of a solution. Her mind was a blank.

  ‘Leave it to me. It may not be the most comfortable night we’ve ever had, but it has to be better than not being together. I’d never sleep, thinking of you alone in your room at that house you’re billeted in. Only thing is: we do need to let them know not to expect you.’

  ‘I’ll cycle back there as soon as the agent has left. Mabel, the woman of
the house, knaws that I’m planning to leave, and she don’t blame me. I’ll fetch some of me things back. Me pyjamas and me toothbrush, that sort of thing. I’ll tie them to me handlebars in a bundle. It’s best that I go – I owe her that much – rather than just leaving, as this is me leaving, Belinda. I knaw I can’t ever go back there, except for the rest of me things. I couldn’t deal with owt stuck up in that bedroom. And that’s what happens, more often than not.’

  ‘Oh, Flo, it must have been lonely and very difficult, but it’s one thing that will change for the better today, for you. I’ll do the same. Petulia brought me in in her car this morning; she’s billeted at Woburn Abbey with me. I’ll beg her to wait until I’ve seen the landlord, then to take me back. I’ll do my best to sneak out a couple of blankets, as well as some night-things and toiletries. Ooh, it’s going to be a real adventure, Flo.’

  ‘I hope so, Belinda. I hope I don’t dampen it for you, because at the moment I just need to curl up somewhere private and cry me eyes out.’

  ‘Well, you can do that, love. You can do as much of that as you need to. I know how you felt about Simon and Lucinda, and I know you must be worried sick about your friend Roland. You have a lot on your plate, and I really admire how you’re determined to carry on. Talk about “Your Country Needs You”, as Kitchener spouted in the last war. Our country doesn’t even know they have us, and probably never will.’

  They sat silently for a moment. Flo’s limbs had stopped shaking. She couldn’t drink much of the tea, but was grateful for the respite she’d had. Standing up, she excused herself and made her way to Hut 6. Every step held the dread that Kitty would be there, sneering more than usual. Even if it was never proved, no one would ever convince Flo otherwise than that Kitty and her lover-boy were responsible for what had happened to Simon.