Brighter Days Ahead

by Mary Wood

  24

  Flo

  Fears for Molly

  Flo marched beside Jane Downing, the only person who’d agreed to attend Simon’s funeral. The general had asked for four volunteers from the workers in Hut 6, but none of the others who were on a shift that would enable them to attend had come forward. This had hurt Flo. Thinking of those who worked in Hut 6 brought Kitty to mind, and she felt glad she’d never had to encounter her presence again. She wouldn’t have been able to bear her smirks.

  Kitty had never appeared back on duty again, and they’d all been told that she’d gone on long-term sick leave. This was a source of relief to Flo. She had so much anger in her that she was afraid it would spill over, if she had to deal with Kitty on a daily basis, and she’d not want to taint Simon’s memory in that way.

  If only Belinda had been able to be here, but although she’d wanted to come, the hut that she worked in couldn’t release her from her shift.

  Seeing the coffin pass by as she stood to attention, forming part of the guard of honour – such as it was, with just herself, Jane, the general and one other navy person whom she didn’t know – Flo’s heart broke in two. When she fell in behind the mourners, none of whom she knew, her legs threatened to give way, but she’d got this far with dignity, and she would go the whole way.

  It was a comfort to see Art standing in full uniform on the side of the path leading into the church. Next to him was Pauline. Pauline had remembered Art when she’d seen him again, and they had got on as if they’d known each other forever. Now he’d visit her van and help out for an hour or two, whenever he could.

  Three weeks had passed since that day Flo had met Art, and during that time she’d been beset with fear for Molly’s safety. The doctor had diagnosed Molly as having pleurisy and had treated her with some potion or other that he’d concocted himself; whatever it was, it had worked like a miracle, and Molly was now recovered and was getting stronger than Flo had ever seen her, although she was in imminent and constant danger.

  Trixie had relayed the news that one of the girls she and Molly had helped to escape had gone to the police. Delilah her name was, or rather Martha, as she was really called. Hers was an incredible story of kidnap and murder, which Flo remembered had been headline news and had shocked the nation at the time. It seemed unbelievable that Martha was now found, after all these years.

  According to Trixie, Martha had let Molly down, as she’d promised not to go to the police until she was informed that Molly was safe. Trixie had been waiting to hear from Molly about that being so. Poor Trixie, she’d been shocked to learn what Molly had gone through since she’d last seen her. She’d imagined that Molly was getting well and would soon be joining up.

  Trixie had told Flo that the girls who worked for the same gang as Molly had reported that Eva was desperate to find Molly, to stop her from talking, and that her connections were searching everywhere for her. Many of these connections were police officers whom Eva had in her pay. They were keeping Eva informed about any news that came in, concerning Martha’s case.

  Flo lived in perpetual fear of the gang finding Molly.

  The sound of the choir brought Flo back to what was happening. They were inside the church, and the thought came to her that this was where they had meant to have a service for Lucinda, but now Simon’s body lay before the altar.

  Simon’s parents hadn’t made it over to England. Flo’s heart went out to them. She’d received a lovely letter from them, thanking her for writing to them and saying they would write to Roland eventually, but in the meantime they would be grateful if she would keep them informed about his welfare. Contacting him was a step too far for them at the moment, as they coped with losing both of their children.

  The next hour passed in a daze. Inside her body was a cold, locked place. Flo wouldn’t allow herself to cry, but stood to attention as the procession left the church. A feeling of being lost overwhelmed her as she came out into the open. Her eyes followed the receding coffin on its way to be placed in the hearse. Simon’s final journey was to be with his family and close mourners. Simon, me love. Oh, Simon.

  ‘Take my arm, Flo.’

  Art’s voice gave Flo some strength. He had become a solid, dependable rock to her, in such a short time.

  Jane touched her other arm. ‘I’ll have to go, Wren Kilgallon . . . Flo.’

  Flo smiled at Jane, glad that she’d found it in her to use her Christian name. ‘Thank you, Jane. I’ll not forget your kindness.’

  ‘I liked Simon. I’m sorry he . . . well, I’ll see you in a couple of days when you return to camp.’

  Someone coughed beside Flo. She turned to see a man a few inches taller than herself. For a moment she froze in shock, as his eyes were Simon’s eyes. ‘I’m a cousin of Simon’s. I understand from the general that you were his friend. Wren Kilgallon, isn’t it?’

  ‘Aye. Simon was me best friend. I can’t come to terms with him going.’

  ‘Quite. I came to say that, as a family, we would like to thank you. I . . . we – that is, my sister and I – knew about him. We were never allowed to speak of it in the family, and gradually, as Simon lived his life how he wanted to, the ties between us became very thin, as it was never approved that we mixed with him. We’re younger than him, you see, so we had very little say. This is dreadful, really dreadful, and I regret not defying my parents and staying in touch with Simon. My father is a brother of Simon’s father. He’s not here today. Too ashamed.’

  Flo saw a tear trickle down the young man’s face and felt compassion for him, even though he epitomized what Simon had to endure. But this seemed even worse, as it was a member of his own family admitting that he’d ostracized Simon. ‘By, I’m sorry for you – you missed knowing one of the kindest, funniest and grandest blokes that ever walked the earth.’

  ‘I – I know. Is there anything I can do for you?’

  ‘Naw, not me, but you could make up a bit for your absence from Simon’s life by making sure his friend Roland is given something of Simon’s to remember him by.’

  ‘You mean the man who was sent to prison?’

  ‘Aye, I do. He should never be there. He’s not a criminal.’

  The man coughed again and felt in his breast pocket. ‘Here is my card. Will you contact me with details about where Roland is, please? I will see what I can do. Simon’s mother is the executor of his will; she was made so by Simon when poor Lucinda . . . Well, anyway, she has appointed me to act in her absence. I promise you, I will see that Roland does get something. Thank you. I have to go now. Will you come to the graveside?’

  ‘Naw. I couldn’t bear it, but ta for asking me – it means a lot. I’ll write to you once I have proper details about Roland.’

  The man doffed his hat and left. Flo stood still, gazing after the carriage as it drew slowly away, taking Simon from her. She thought of the rose bush they’d bought together for Lucinda, and it came to her that it should be planted on Simon’s grave in memory of them both. She’d ask that of the cousin, when she wrote to him. He’d seemed nice, and Flo felt sure he’d do right by Simon in death, even if he hadn’t in life.

  Once the cortège was out of sight, she turned to Art. ‘Ta for coming, Art. I didn’t knaw as you were on your rest day.’

  ‘I swapped. There weren’t any raids planned, and a few of the guys wanted the dates that were set out on my rota. I have a forty-eight-hour pass. Where do you want to go, Flo? I could take you anywhere. I’ve bought a car in the last few days, so that I can visit you more often. That’s it over there – the big black one.’

  Flo looked over and saw a large car, making all the others look like little boxes. She’d only ever seen one like it before, and that had stood on the drive of Belinda’s house. ‘Is it a Rolls-Royce? By, it looks grand as owt.’

  ‘It is. Some lord or other, who lives not far from Biggin Hill, sold it to me. It’s hardly been out of his garage. I got it for a snip!’

  Flo doubted that, but money
never seemed to be any object to Art. He’d talked in the two letters he’d sent her about his family in Ontario being the owners of a printing firm, and of their large estate, where he loved to ride his horses.

  His letters had been a salve to her, although she was embarrassed at how he declared his love for her in them. She knew it was possible to fall in love as quickly as Art said he had, because it had happened to her with Simon, but she wasn’t ready to let Art be anything other than a friend. She was afraid to misinterpret her feelings for him. He wasn’t like any other person she’d ever known and he’d come into her life after Simon had died, so he helped her in a different way from the way those who had known Simon could. This made her wonder if she might value just that: the chance to talk to someone who didn’t know him, and couldn’t relate back all of the time. Oh, I don’t knaw. I only knaw I feel comfortable with him.

  And that comfortable feeling allowed her to let go of her emotions, once she sank into the soft, welcoming ruby-red leather seats of Art’s car. The smell of the leather reminded her of Simon’s car interior. I’ll never again sit next to Simon, chatting away as he drives me through the countryside in Bells.

  The tears Flo had held back spilled over, as the car roared into life and sped her away.

  ‘Gee, honey, I’ll pull over. We’re near to the Thames; we can sit on the bank and you can let it all out.’

  ‘Naw, it’ll be too cold. Besides, I’m in uniform.’ Dabbing her eyes, Flo wished she could release the knot of pain inside her. If only she could be alone, just for an hour, so that she could scream and hit things and unleash her agony. But always there was someone by her side, comforting and loving her, so that she had to seek composure rather than vent her grief.

  ‘I’ll be reet; just drive around a bit and let me compose meself, then take me to Pauline’s. When did she leave the church, by the way? We could have given her a lift.’

  ‘She said she needed to get back; she seemed anxious about something. She left before the service, and said she just wanted you to see that she was there and then she had to leave.’

  This pulled Flo up short. Always alert to the fear she held for Molly, her tears dried instantly. ‘I don’t like the sound of that, Art. Forget driving around. Will you take me straight to Pauline’s, please?’

  ‘Oh, Flo, I’m glad yer back. Are you all right?’

  ‘Aye, I am, lass, though a bit worried as to why you left so sudden. What’s to do – where’s Molly?’

  ‘She’s upstairs in the bedroom. Sommat has happened. It was last night. I was followed. A car pulled up by the van where I was working, a sleek black, American-looking thing it was, and there was a blond-haired man at the wheel. One or two of me customers slinked away when they saw it, and another said, “Blimey, that’s that gang from the East End.” Everyone in me queue seemed frightened. I didn’t know what to do, as it was still there when I left. In the end I went back to the depot, and they followed, driving a bit and stopping just in front of me.’ Pauline’s body shook and her face paled. ‘I were scared out of me wits.’

  Flo took her hand. ‘Sit down, lass. Did they follow you back here?’

  ‘No, I lost them. I stayed in the depot a while, then slipped out the back way into the alley. Then I cut up through there and walked along the bank of the river till I got to Vauxhall Bridge again. When I crossed over the bridge, they were nowhere to be seen. But I’m scared, Flo. What if they come back when I do me shift tonight?’

  Molly came through the door to the stairs. She ran into Flo’s arms. Flo could feel the trembling of her body. Her own fear deepened, with all she’d heard and the terror shown by these two women, who had become her beloved friends. She looked over at Art. He too showed a concern verging on fear. What had she got him into? He was a pilot with the Canadian air force, from an upstanding family, and she’d dragged him down into the sleazy world of gangsters.

  ‘You go, Art. We’ll sort this. I’ve a mind, from what’s been said, that the gang Molly escaped from have an idea she’s with Pauline – or at least that Pauline is involved in some way. It’s not reet for you to be party to owt like this. I’ll write to you as soon as I can.’

  ‘Neither can you be involved, Flo. You’re a Wren. You have a lot at stake, too. If you’re getting involved, then I am, too. Besides, I got myself into this. I went willingly to Soho with . . . Wait a minute, that must be it! The fellow airman I was with – Spike – you remember, Molly? He must have told them where I was going to take you that night.’

  ‘I’ve thought of that, and it’s the only answer. God, I was such a damn fool to send him to Eva’s brothel, but I was angry. Angry at all men, as I saw them as the cause of what happened to me. Their need – well, you know what I mean. I—’

  ‘I reckon as there’s nowt to be served by apportioning blame. We’re all in danger, we knaw that, so we have to think straight and sort sommat out.’

  ‘There seems only one solution: we have to get Molly and Pauline away from here, but where to?’

  ‘You’re reet, Art, we do. What about the aunt in Birmingham you told me about, Molly?’

  ‘It’s more than likely the gang have already been there looking for me. I’m worried sick over her safety. They’re ruthless. What if they’ve hurt her? Oh God, what have I done to you all?’

  ‘They don’t know about the place in Wales, where me mam is and me kids are. We could go there.’

  ‘But that’s just it, we can’t. None of you know them like me. Now that Delilah is pointing the finger at them, they have to find me, to stop me giving evidence as well. Oh, they can cover up, pay enough bribes to the police, kill someone as an example; and they will do so, to wriggle out of what is being said by Delilah. But I have a lot more recent evidence, with the operation going on at me dad’s. And Ruby, she’ll be in danger an’ all, as she can back up most of what Delilah knows. I’m so sorry, Pauline, but if they have an inkling that it is you who has helped me – and it seems they do – then they will find out everything about you.’

  ‘No! No, Molly, not . . . me kids? Oh God!’

  ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. It’s how they work – they’re evil. I have to give meself up to them, it’s the only way.’

  ‘Naw!’ But as she said this, Flo was filled with despair as to what alternative there was.

  Art voiced her confusion. ‘I’m lost. How can Pauline’s kids be in danger, if they’re living in Wales with their grandmother?’

  ‘Because, Art, if Eva’s gang want information from you, they will make threats about what they will do to someone you love. They’ll stop at nothing. They’d use Pauline’s kids to frighten her into revealing where I was. It was the threats that kept me doing everything they wanted me to. I couldn’t go to me dad for help, for he’s in up to his neck with them; and going to the police wasn’t an option, as the top brass are all in Eva’s pay.’ Molly told them how she and Trixie had helped Ruby to escape, and how they’d never been able to trust Delilah, but had only helped her when they knew her story about who she really was. ‘Once Ruby was safe, I could then make me break and get away. But it all went wrong for me. They beat me up so badly . . . Well, you all know the rest.’

  As Flo listened to it all, she felt more and more afraid and just stood transfixed as Molly ended by saying, ‘Oh, why did Delilah do this? She was supposed to wait until I was in the forces. She’s such a selfish cow!’

  Flo saw Art raise his shoulders and hands in an action that said he didn’t understand. She felt the same herself, for this was a world she knew nothing about and thought existed only in films. Even after her terrifying conversation with Trixie, when she’d been told that the gang Molly had been forced to work for were after Molly, she hadn’t taken in the full implications. Murder, bribes, threats to life, black-market operations, prostitution – my God!

  At this moment Flo couldn’t think straight, but the real terror of their situation was beginning to seep into her. They should just be able to go to the police, but f
rom what she knew now, even they couldn’t be trusted. She had the feeling of being trapped in a nightmare. Stranded, with no one to help them and nowhere to turn without being in danger. She sank into the chair behind her. I have to think: there must be a solution. I’ve a logical brain, and I solve codes others can’t begin to get a handle on. There has to be a way that I can solve this problem.

  ‘Pauline, Molly, I need peace for a moment. Aye, we’re in a frightening situation. But I need you all to calm down. I need to think it through.’

  Whether her voice had come out like a command or not, Flo didn’t know, but what she called for happened. Pauline, Molly and Art sat down. Their fearful eyes were on her. She leaned back and closed hers, shutting them all out. She had to think.

  After a moment, a clear plan began to form. She needed to get an idea of which police force was dealing with the case. They would be the ones to go to with the information they had. Molly would be invaluable to them as a second witness. If they could get hold of more evidence, then their efforts to bring a conclusion to the case surely wouldn’t be hampered by the corrupt police in Soho, as must be happening now. And there was Ruby, too. Maybe she has been too afraid to talk, as she would know the gang had Delilah’s whereabouts from the local police, and that they might conclude she was there, too. Flo needed to know where this was. ‘Molly, where is Delilah? Can you contact her? Are she and Ruby in the same place?’

  ‘Yes, they’re in Scotland. I have a telephone number and an address. They’re with a woman who’s a friend of Trixie’s. Trixie gave me the number so that I could get in touch with Ruby, once I was settled. It’s in with me gas mask, thank goodness, as me bag was stolen.’

  ‘Scotland? Eeh, no wonder this is all taking such a time. The distance and the communication difficulties will be causing delays, without the possible lack of cooperation from the police in Soho. Besides, I doubt that the Scottish police have any jurisdiction in England.’ Flo knew these things through her own work. Outposts had to be manned in these areas to pick up any coded messages being relayed to, and between, ships in the North Sea and the Atlantic. Often getting these messages by wireless telecommunication proved difficult, as the signals were weak and so had to be delivered by hand through a trusted chain of couriers, causing crucial delays. If that was so for the largest and most technological operation in Britain, as Bletchley was, then what chance did a small police force have? ‘As I see it, we need to get them back into England.’