Her Secret War

by Pam Lecky

  Sarah frowned down into her lap, trying to think of something to say that would prompt him to reveal his true motives. If she kept talking about the war, would he jump at the opportunity? But instead, he lifted her chin and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was gentle and not unpleasant, as she had dreaded when imagining how things would play out. But it still made her skin crawl. Obviously he would want to keep up the charade of romance for now. But it was depressing, not least because it could not have been more different to how Paul had made her feel. His kisses had been so welcome; they’d set off fireworks in her head and disturbing sensations throughout her body. Rob’s kisses left her cold.

  As he pulled away, she forced herself to smile up at him as dreamily as she could. She had to wonder if he was attracted to her on any level, but whether he was or not, he was using intimacy to trap her.

  Suddenly, Rob’s expression turned grim as he looked out over the water. ‘I think there is something you should know. I don’t want to upset you any further – you’ve been through enough – but there are many people who put forward the theory that it was us British who bombed Dublin, not the Germans.’

  ‘Never!’ she exclaimed, her heart thumping. ‘I saw the planes; they were German all right.’

  ‘Ah, but we have many downed Nazi planes from the Battle of Britain. It would be easy to repair some of them and use them to our advantage. In essence, to pretend to be a German squadron flying over Dublin. I know, I know; it’s shocking. But don’t you see? Churchill desperately wants the Irish to throw in their lot with the Allies. He is terrified the Germans will make a pact with Ireland. Just think, it would be the end of the war for Britain if the Nazis had airfields in Ireland. They’d be able to bomb us to smithereens. So Jerry might not have been responsible for that raid after all. Churchill is a cunning old fox and capable of anything. Look what happened at Mers-el-Kébir when he sent in the Navy to destroy the French ships.’

  ‘But he couldn’t risk the Germans using the French fleet,’ she replied. ‘It had to be destroyed.’

  ‘There was no warning given. Many Frenchmen died, and they were our allies, Sarah. He’d hardly care more for Irish lives, now, would he, if it got him what he wanted?’

  Her blood boiling, Sarah tried to calm down. So this was how he was going to try to turn her. Her reaction now would be crucial.

  ‘But what you are implying is dreadful, Rob. I lost my family in that raid. I could have died.’

  ‘I know,’ he said, frowning down at her. ‘But you may be blaming the wrong people. Hopefully, the truth will come out soon, though I have my doubts. The British government would never admit it.’

  Sarah let out a slow breath and feigned outrage. ‘If what you say is true—’

  ‘Oh, it is! I have it on good authority.’

  ‘Then I’m helping those murderers win the war!’

  ‘Exactly!’ he said, a triumphant gleam in his eyes.

  21

  20th October 1941, Hursley

  At her aunt’s behest, Sarah invited Gladys and Ruth to dinner with the family the following evening. Once the dinner things were washed and put away, Ruth and Martin went out for a walk and Gladys went upstairs to Sarah’s room with her for a natter.

  ‘Why, this is lovely. Lucky you to have your own room. I’ve never had that luxury,’ Gladys said, plonking down on Sarah’s bed and surveying the room.

  ‘Yes, I know, me neither. I love it.’ Sarah sat on the window seat. ‘It was my cousin Judith’s room for the brief time she was here.’

  ‘Is that the girl who went off to London?’ Sarah nodded. ‘Tall, blonde girl? I only knew her to see; she worked in a different building. She was always very glamorous.’ Gladys blew out her lips. ‘I wonder what London’s like. I’d love to go there someday. Do you fancy it? Could be fun. We’d have a ball! I hear there’s plenty of work.’

  Sarah tensed up. ‘I’m not sure I do while Jerry is bombing the place to pieces. I think I’ll stick with Hursley for now.’

  ‘Must be exciting though. I’ve heard the nightlife is a deal better than sleepy Winchester.’

  ‘That wouldn’t be difficult,’ Sarah replied. ‘Even Dublin was livelier.’

  ‘There you go. Think on it. It would be fun to share a flat and sample the delights.’ Gladys sighed contentedly. ‘That was a grand dinner. Your aunt puts on quite a spread. You should see the muck we get served up of an evening. No fear of me getting fat on my landlady’s offerings.’

  ‘My aunt never stints. I think she wanted to impress you.’

  Gladys spluttered. ‘Why on earth?’

  ‘Aunty Alice is the most kind-hearted woman. She wants to welcome my friends to help me settle in, I suppose. She was very keen I invite someone here.’ Sarah bit her lip. ‘The best I could do was you and Ruth, of course.’

  ‘Well, aren’t we hilarious this evening? Just you be careful now. Don’t forget I know secrets about you.’ Gladys wagged her finger at her.

  Sarah froze for a moment before she realised Gladys was referring to Paul and her doubts about walking out with Rob. Sarah made a face back at her.

  ‘Charming! Well, spill the beans, girl. I’m dying to know how you got on with Rob yesterday.’ Gladys smirked, settling back against the pillow she had propped against the wall.

  ‘It was fine.’

  Gladys wrinkled her nose. ‘Fine! What kind of insipid word is that? Sounds awful.’

  ‘No, no, it wasn’t.’ Sarah laughed. ‘He was more relaxed and turned out to be good company. The exhibition was interesting, and Rob’s friend is really talented.’

  ‘Was it a posh do? Champers and caviar?’

  ‘Not at all: cheap white wine.’

  Gladys smirked. ‘Oh well, there is a war on! So, was that it?’

  ‘No. We didn’t stay long in the end as it was crowded and uncomfortable. We went for a walk down by the Itchen before he walked me back to my bus.’

  ‘Very romantic,’ Gladys commented. ‘I guess you enjoyed the attention. Was he all lovey dovey?’

  Sarah pasted a smile on her face. ‘Very. I think this is going to work out.’ God forgive me for lying to my friend. Hopefully, someday she’d be able to tell Gladys the truth.

  Sarah hesitated outside the Dragon’s office door. She’d only just sat down at her desk when the summons had come. A little anxious, she knocked and waited, wondering what misdemeanour had brought her to Miss Whitaker’s unwelcome attention.

  ‘Come in!’ the lady responded. Miss Whitaker was standing at the window as Sarah entered the room, and she greeted Sarah with a curt nod. Sarah always felt inadequate in her presence. It was difficult not to admire the lady’s dedication to her job and her ruthless crusade for perfection, even if it meant misery for Sarah and her fellow tracers. Sarah guessed it wasn’t easy to hold sway in a male-dominated arena with such aplomb. It was just a pity the woman was so utterly terrifying.

  As ever, Miss Whitaker was perfectly groomed, leaving Sarah conscious of her own carelessness. Most mornings, she simply tied back her hair in a ponytail to keep it away from her face as she worked. When it came to clothes, her manager had a great fondness for tweed suits: today’s ensemble was a russet-toned example, cream blouse, and her ubiquitous string of pearls.

  ‘Miss Gillespie, do sit down.’ The Dragon trained one of her withering stares on Sarah as she took her seat.

  ‘Is something amiss, Miss Whitaker?’ Sarah asked, bracing herself for the worst while racking her brains as to what she could have done wrong.

  The Dragon clasped her hands where they lay on the desk and glanced at her over her spectacles. ‘The very question I was about to ask you, Miss Gillespie.’

  ‘Oh! I’m fine, thank you, Miss,’ Sarah replied, taken aback.

  ‘Are you sure there is nothing worrying you? Anything you would like to confide?’

  ‘No, thank you, Miss Whitaker.’ Sarah clenched her fists where they lay in her lap.

  Her manager sat back in her chair.
‘Forgive me, but you have been quiet of late. Your supervisor, Miss Sugden, has commented on it. I hope you realise that if anything were worrying you, of any nature, that you could come and talk to me. You are one of my gals now and, I like to think, under my wing. I won’t beat about the bush, Miss Gillespie. Since you received that visit here in my office a couple of weeks ago, you appear preoccupied. I’m not trying to pry into your personal affairs, but I was concerned that the gentleman had imposed on you in some way.’

  Sarah stiffened. If only things were different. Wouldn’t it be lovely to have Miss Whitaker fighting in your corner: if it came to a showdown with anyone, Sarah would put her money on her for sure. Alas, that was not possible.

  ‘Not at all, Miss. Captain Northcott’s visit concerned my late father, that is all. He wished to check some details about his past.’ Which was pretty close to the truth. She should have realised eagle-eyed Miss Whitaker would take note of the visit and the visitor and eventually ask questions. Was the Dragon curious or suspicious? The notion that Miss Whitaker worked for Northcott and was testing her suddenly popped into her head. Would she accept her answer? How best to fudge it if she didn’t? She was reluctant to lie to the woman, not least because she suspected Miss Whitaker would see straight through any fabrication.

  ‘I’m relieved to hear it, Sarah; however, I am still worried about you,’ the Dragon replied.

  ‘To be honest, Miss Whitaker, I haven’t been myself of late. Some nights I have difficulty sleeping. I am missing my family, in particular my younger sister, Maura. We were close. My mother died some years ago, and I had to take care of Maura after that. I feel guilty, I suppose, that I survived, and she did not.’ Well, it was true to a great extent, Sarah consoled herself. She missed Maura like crazy, but her lack of sleep these nights was more down to Northcott and his intrigues. How happy she would be when the day came that she no longer had to prevaricate or lie to anyone.

  ‘That is understandable, of course. This war has already brought about so much suffering and pain, and few of us have escaped its reach. But I’m sure your family here can be a great support to you at this time. You should confide in your aunt, Miss Gillespie, or indeed your uncle. Tom Lambe is one of the kindest men I know. Wise, too.’

  ‘Yes, he is. And they have been nothing but supportive; but I’d rather not worry them. I’m sure this will pass in time.’

  ‘If I know your uncle, he is taking a fatherly interest in your welfare. Young girls stand in great need of an older man’s guidance, I always say,’ Miss Whitaker said, again with a stern glance.

  ‘Of course,’ Sarah replied. Miss Whitaker didn’t need to know that it was a novelty for her to have any kind of father figure in her life who cared. ‘The Lambes have been wonderful and I appreciate all they have done for me.’ The Dragon nodded. ‘I hope my state of mind hasn’t affected my work, Miss Whitaker. I take pride in what I do,’ Sarah continued.

  ‘No, I have no issue with your performance. In fact, you are one of our best tracers, and that is why I am concerned. I feared you were unhappy or being imposed upon and might decide to leave. We do not wish to lose you to another company. Good tracers are in short supply.’

  ‘Thank you, Miss Whitaker, but let me assure you there is no need for concern. I’m happy here at Supermarine.’

  ‘Very good, you have eased my mind. However, there is one other matter before you return to work,’ the Dragon said with a stiff smile. ‘You are being courted by a co-worker, I understand.’

  Sarah was impressed. Did Miss Whitaker have a network of spies or had she heard it from Northcott? There wasn’t any point in denying it. ‘I am seeing Rob McArthur from Wages. Is that an issue? I didn’t think it was prohibited.’

  ‘No, it isn’t a problem as such. I merely wish to emphasise the need to be circumspect. You should not discuss your work outside the walls of the Tracing Room. I mentioned this the day you started here, if you recall.’

  ‘I do, yes, Miss Whitaker. We don’t discuss work.’

  ‘Good, because you hold a responsible position with access to many secrets. This is something I highlight to all my gals, not just you, Miss Gillespie. Do I make myself clear?’

  ‘Absolutely, Miss Whitaker. You have no need to worry. I am grateful to have this job and I would do nothing to betray the trust that has been placed in me.’

  Lying was becoming far too easy. Skimming the depths of deceit, although currently necessary, shook her moral compass. Northcott had turned her into a horrible, deceitful person. Would the end result justify what she was doing? Eventually, when the truth was revealed, she would have to attempt to repair all the damage. That was, of course, if she survived.

  ‘Excellent. We need say no more on the subject. Good day, Miss Gillespie.’

  Sarah could have sworn she glimpsed disappointment on the Dragon’s face as she turned and left the room. Whatever the test had been, Sarah had an uncomfortable feeling she had failed.

  22

  24th October 1941, Hursley

  Sarah was sitting beside the fire after dinner, trying to concentrate on her book, but her mind kept wandering to her imminent meeting with Northcott. All day, her stomach had done somersaults at the mere thought of it, and all week her dreams had been haunted by him or Rob, to the point she dreaded the climb up the stairs to bed.

  Hearing a step out in the hallway, she looked up to see Martin enter the room. He grabbed his hat and overcoat from the coatstand just inside the door.

  ‘Won’t you change your mind and come to see the film?’ he asked. ‘We could take the bus if you aren’t up to the cycle. Is your leg acting up?’

  ‘No, it’s fine. Sorry, Martin, I’m going to give it a miss. As I said at dinner, it doesn’t sound like my kind of picture.’

  ‘I thought all films were your kind of film,’ he replied, coming across the room to stand before her. ‘Are you meeting Rob instead? Is that it? I thought he loved going to the pictures.’

  ‘No, I’m not meeting up with him tonight. We plan to meet in Winchester on Sunday, after church.’ Sarah lifted her book up. ‘I fancied a lazy evening. I want to finish this so I can return it to the library. It’s nearly overdue and I can’t afford the fines. Go on. Say hi to the girls from me. I’ll see them in the morning.’

  ‘Will do.’ Martin treated her to a doubtful look before disappearing out the door.

  Sarah sighed and closed her book. She hated deceiving Martin, but she couldn’t risk telling him about the difficulties she faced. Glancing at her watch, she realised she only had twenty minutes before she had to meet Northcott on the road near Merdon Castle. Thankfully, Uncle Tom was out pottering in the back garden and Aunt Alice was at a neighbour’s house, so there shouldn’t be any awkward questions about where she was going. Hopefully, no one would pay too much attention to her evening stroll. And more importantly, she hoped Northcott would be happy with her limited progress.

  Sarah spotted Northcott’s car easily enough, as the setting sun reflected off the bonnet. He had reversed the Austin up to the gate of a field opposite the boundary of the Hursley Estate, close to where the fallen tree had damaged the wall. Northcott wore a grim expression as she approached the car, and her heart sank; he usually opened his conversations with bonhomie and smiles. His hat was half pulled down over his eyes and his coat collar was up. For a moment Sarah almost laughed. Every spy in every film she had ever seen acted like that when trying to be inconspicuous. Did he not realise how suspicious he looked? By his expression, she doubted he would see the funny side of the observation. Best to keep it to herself.

  She climbed in beside him. ‘Evening, Captain.’

  Northcott turned and gave her a look which did little for her equilibrium. ‘Miss Gillespie,’ he said, unusually curt. He tapped his watch. ‘You’re late. Furthermore, this location is totally unsuitable as it is far too close to Hursley village. We will have to find a better meeting place than this. It is imperative we are not seen together.’

 
How paranoid he is, she thought, and mischief prompted her to flick a glance up at his hat. ‘No one comes down here in the evening: you are unlikely to be spotted.’ A grunt of disbelief was his response. She continued: ‘It is difficult for me to travel great distances and not give rise to questions from my family. My cousin already suspects something is wrong and keeps asking if I’m all right. I had to lie to him last week when he caught me sneaking in the back door like a drowned rat, after our meeting at Farley Mount. Then I had to ask a friend to say I was with her because it was the only explanation that came to mind when he put me on the spot.’

  ‘Did you convince him?’

  ‘Yes,’ she lied. All week, she had been catching Martin giving her funny looks. ‘But the worst part is trying to defend my sudden interest in Rob McArthur. It has raised some awkward questions at home and my friends are mystified by my change of heart.’

  Northcott frowned. ‘You need to be more circumspect, Sarah. This isn’t a game, you know.’

  ‘That’s jolly easy to say, but I might point out I was adamant I would not see him again after our first disastrous night out. And that all occurred before I met you and became involved in your delightful scheme.’

  Northcott responded with a harrumph. ‘Don’t you realise? The merest whisper of something suspicious and McArthur might disappear without trace, and all my work will be undone. And that, my dear Miss Gillespie, will leave you in a difficult position.’

  ‘On a boat back to Ireland, I suppose,’ she said in disgust.

  ‘Most likely, but never fear, you would have the company of your dear family to make the journey more pleasant.’

  Sarah stared straight ahead. ‘There is no need to reiterate that threat … sir.’

  Northcott’s laugh in response was humourless. ‘I’m glad to hear it. Now, have you told your cousin anything?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Will he try to interfere?’

  ‘No. Martin’s just concerned for me. It’s not a problem. I am being careful.’