We'll Meet Again (7 page)

‘Can you keep a secret?’ he asked suddenly when she paused from answering him.

‘Yes, I think so. Why?’

‘Only think so?’

‘I am sure.’

‘Good, because what we do there is hush-hush and you’ll be sworn to secrecy. But it’s very important for the war effort.’

‘I understand.’

He pushed a document across the desk to her and handed her a fountain pen. ‘I’m afraid you will have to sign that. It’s the Official Secrets Act.’

‘Does that mean you are going to give me a job?’

‘Sign that first and I’ll tell you.’

She put her name to the paper which was headed Government Code and Cypher School, which meant nothing to her. ‘What sort of job?’ she asked, pushing the paper back to him.

‘How do you like the idea of being a messenger? You will be required to deliver letters, packages, parcels to all the huts and carry messages between them. You do not need to know what goes on inside the huts, nor what is in the envelopes you are carrying. It may not seem important to you, but it is vital you do the job well, I cannot stress that too strongly.’ He gave her a reassuring smile. ‘Do you want to do it?’

‘Yes, please.’

‘You will be on a shift system like everyone else here. We never stop, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. We’ll let you know when you can start, probably in a day or two. Can you find your way home again?’

‘Yes. Thank you, sir.’

He asked a uniformed wren to escort her to the gate and see her safely through it. She walked down the road feeling elated. Not only did she have a job, but it was one that was going to help defeat Hitler. Ma and Pa and the kids were going to be avenged.
For the first time since she lost them all, she felt herself coming alive again, ready to face the future, even putting up with Aunt Constance.

Constance did not approve of young girls being given ideas above their station. Her niece came from the slums and to the slums she would return, but she couldn’t make Lady Prudence see that. Of course, her ladyship was only amusing herself befriending the girl and Sheila would discover that for herself in the end. She had no idea what went on up at the Park. It was fenced off and heavily guarded and the people who worked up there were mostly from the upper classes, very clever most of them, that much she knew from acquaintances who also billeted them. Where, in heaven’s name, did Sheila Phipps fit into all that? She had refused to say.

The girl had no right to be so secretive. Anyone would think she had something to hide and Constance knew all about keeping secrets. Sheila could not possibly know the truth … Unless Ellen had told her. But Ellen was dead and if Sheila said anything it could be dismissed as lies.

She and Ellen had never got on, not even in childhood. Her sister had been six years younger and her father’s pet. Even their mother made light of her naughtiness, while condemning her other daughter for the slightest thing she did wrong, on the grounds she was older and ought to know better. Her solidly middle-class parents had even condoned Ellen’s marriage to Percy Phipps at the age of seventeen and given her the wedding of her dreams. She had married that hulk of a docker with his winning smile and not a penny to his name, and gone to live in the East End of London, had seven children and been happy. How could anyone be happy under those circumstances? It just wasn’t fair. She should have been the happy one, not Ellen. The duster in her
hand polished the same few inches of table over and over as she meditated on this.

She had married Clifford Tranter, a well-to-do businessman, in 1917 in London. He was not in the forces, but in the upper echelons of the railway business which brought them to Bletchley. He had bought this house with all its modern conveniences and she had been so proud of it, proud of their status in the town. And look what happened. No, she would not think of it. It had lain hidden for over twenty years and it had best stay hidden.

‘We’re not often on the same shift,’ Prue said one afternoon after Sheila had been at Bletchley a month. ‘Let’s make the most of it.’ They were in Prue’s bedroom, where they spent much of their time when they were in the house. It was the only place to talk without Constance joining in with her hurtful comments. ‘There’s a dance in the Assembly Rooms this evening. I’ve no idea what the band is like, but there’s a crowd of us going. It’s my treat …’

‘Oh but you can’t …’

‘Yes, I can. It’s my twenty-first birthday and I mean to celebrate. It will be fun.’

‘Your birthday? You never said. I haven’t got you anything …’

‘That’s precisely why I didn’t tell you. I don’t want you spending your money on me. I’ll have loads of presents when I go home on leave next week. So what do you say? You can dance, can’t you?’

‘Oh, yes, I used to go with Chris and my friend Janet and her boyfriend.’

‘Then you’ll come?’

‘But I haven’t got a partner.’

‘Oh, you’ll soon find someone and if you don’t, we can always dance together.’ She smiled. ‘If you don’t go, you’ll end up mending your aunt’s underwear all evening while you listen to
more nagging. And I shall feel guilty for leaving you behind.’

Sheila laughed. ‘I’m so glad I’ve got you for a friend.’

‘And I you.’ Prue stood up and held out her arms. ‘May I have the pleasure of this dance, Miss Phipps?’

Sheila stood up and they began to dance while Prue hummed a tune. It was a song Sheila knew, ‘We’ll meet again’, and she began to sing the words.

‘You’ve got a lovely voice, Sheila. Good enough to sing in public.’

‘Don’t be silly. Ma had a smashing voice, better than mine. She knew all the popular songs and she used to sing while she worked about the house. Sometimes Pa joined in.’ She felt her eyes filling again and blinked hard. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever get over it, Prue.’

‘No, of course you won’t. But you will learn to live with it. Remember the good times and think they are all together now in a happier place than we have down here.’

‘Do you believe that? Really?’

‘Yes, and you must too. It will help you to bear it.’

Downstairs a bitter woman heard the clear voice; it was as if the past were coming back to haunt her, the voice was so like Ellen’s. How was she going to stand having that child round her all the time, reminding her?

It was the second time that morning the gardener had passed the breakfast room window with a wheelbarrow loaded with soil. ‘Just what is Tom Green doing?’ Chloe asked her husband.

‘It’s good soil, full of leaf mould, just right for the vegetables, fertiliser being difficult to get hold of.’

‘Marcus, since when have you interested yourself in the vegetable garden? That’s what we’ve got gardeners for.’

‘Had gardeners, you mean. There’s only Tom Green and young Billy Smith left, one too old and one too young to be in the forces. I need to put in some time myself. We’ve all been exhorted to grow as much of our own food as possible. “Dig for Victory” and all that.’

‘Am I supposed to believe that nonsense? It’s more likely it’s got something to do with the Home Guard.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘Oh, Marcus, do you take me for a fool? You go out at all hours in uniform and when you come back your boots are caked in mud. The same mud that Mr Green is carting. And what are those
soldiers doing in the wood? Are you going to tell me they are they digging for victory?’

‘You could say that.’ He smiled as he scraped a tiny pat of butter onto his toast. ‘It’s only an exercise in digging trenches.’

‘In case of invasion?’

‘Yes.’

‘Marcus, tell me honestly, is an invasion imminent? Is that what it’s all about?’

‘I don’t know, any more than you do. But if it is, the Home Guard must be prepared.’

‘The women in the knitting circle are all talking about it. Edith Stevens told everyone that it was such a deep secret the men have been sworn not to tell a soul, not even their wives. Naturally the wives are agog with curiosity and asked me.’

‘I hope you haven’t undertaken to find out for them.’

‘Of course not. I pretended ignorance. But you might at least tell me if there’s something going on. I won’t pass it on.’

He reached out and put a hand over hers. ‘Darling, if the men have been told not to tell their wives, then I must set a good example and keep mum myself. It’s nothing really, just preparations in case of invasion. That’s what the Home Guard is for: making it as difficult as possible for the invaders and keeping our loved ones safe. If anyone asks you, that is what you tell them.’ He put down his napkin and stood up. ‘I must go. I’ve got a meeting in Cambridge this morning, I should be back for luncheon, but don’t wait if I’m not.’ He dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

She watched him as he left the room and a few moments later saw him waylay Thomas on his way back with the empty barrow, no doubt to tell him to find a different route from the wood to the vegetable garden. She sighed. How she hated secrets.

She finished her tea, which at least still tasted like it was supposed to, which was more than the coffee did, and went up to her room for her coat and hat. Then she went out, taking the path towards the railway crossing which would take her past the woods. It was the shortest way to the village where she intended to visit Nanny Bright. Miss Bright had been her own nanny as well as nanny to Gilbert and Prudence and had stayed with the household until old age and failing health meant she had to be pensioned off. She lived in a little cottage near the station and loved watching people getting on and off the trains. Chloe loved her and visited frequently.

She could see from the single wheel tracks in the mud where the wheelbarrow had come from and smiled to herself. There were also tyre tracks from a vehicle. Anyone bent on mischief would have no difficulty in finding out what was going on. She stepped off the path into the wood and was met by the gamekeeper. ‘Were you looking for his lordship, my lady?’ he queried, standing in front of her, so that she would have to ask him to step aside if she wanted to go on.

‘No, Mr Burrows. I wondered if there was a chance of having a couple of pheasants for tomorrow’s dinner. My daughter is coming home on leave.’

‘I’ll see what I can do, my lady. I’ll bring them up to the house, shall I?’

‘Yes, please. How is Mrs Burrows?’

‘A martyr to her rheumatism, my lady, but she don’t complain.’

‘If there is anything I can do, please let me know, won’t you?’

‘Yes, my lady. Thank you.’

Curious as she was, she could not insist on walking further into the wood and turned to continue on her way to the village. She had not gone far when she saw a figure flitting between the trees
and strode after him. ‘Hey, young man, where do you think you are off to?’

Surprised, he turned and faced her. He was about ten or eleven and not one of the village children; she knew all those. He was dressed in short trousers and a ragged jacket. His shoes were down at heel and his socks were wrinkled about his ankles. ‘Nowhere,’ he said, not in the least shame-faced. ‘Just exploring.’

‘This is private property and you should not be here.’

He shrugged. ‘Didn’t know that, did I?’

‘Shouldn’t you be in school?’

‘School’s boring.’

‘What is your name?’

‘Ronnie Barlow.’

‘Where are you from?’

‘Over by the railway crossing. I’m with Mrs Potts.’

‘You are an evacuee?’

‘Yes. I didn’t ask to be one. I weren’t given no choice.’

‘I expect it was for your own safety. Where is your home? London, is it?’

‘West Ham. I ’ad to leave me ma on ’er own. That ain’t right. She ain’t got anyone to look after ’er, ’cep’ me.’

‘Where’s your father?’

‘In the army, missus.’

‘Oh, I see. I am going towards the crossing, we’ll walk together, shall we?’

He turned reluctantly to walk beside her. ‘What are they doin’ all that diggin’ in the wood for?’ he asked.

‘I really don’t know that they are digging.’

‘It must be a secret. I can keep a secret, you know.’

‘I am glad to hear it.’

‘So you ain’t going to tell me?’

‘No, I am not.’ They had reached the lodge gate which, before the Home Guard began whatever it was doing in the wood, always stood open but which was now closed. She opened it and ushered him through, shutting it behind them. ‘Did you come in this way?’

‘No, I found a gap in the fence along the railway line.’

‘You surely haven’t been on the line? It is dreadfully dangerous. You could be killed.’

‘Not me, missus. Me ma says I’m inde … indestructible.’

She laughed. ‘I don’t think it is very wise to put your faith in that, young man. Now, are you going back to Mrs Potts or shall you go to school? I’ll go to the school with you, if you like.’

‘If you go with me, will it stop me getting the cane?’

‘I can’t promise that, but I’ll try.’

‘Good-o. It’s school then.’

They walked up the lane to the village. ‘Why don’t you like school?’

‘Like I said, it’s boring. Times tables and spellings and dates of kings and queens. Who wants to know about boring kings and queens?’

‘Surely you learn more than that?’

‘Not much.’

‘How old are you?’

‘Eleven and three-quarters.’

He was small for his age, she thought. ‘You are not the only evacuee at the school, are you?’

‘No, there’s all my class.’

‘And are they all like you?’

He shrugged. ‘Shouldn’t think so.’ He paused. ‘Do you live in a palace?’

‘Good gracious, no. What gave you that idea?’

‘It looks like a palace. I saw Buckingham Palace once. It’s gigantic.’

‘Buckingham Palace is very big, that’s true, much, much bigger and grander than the house I live in. Where I live is called Longfordham Hall. I take it you have been up there and looked?’

‘Yes, I was exploring.’

‘It is also trespassing.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Going where you shouldn’t go. You can be prosecuted for it.’

‘Prosecuted? You mean arrested and sent to prison?’

‘No, I don’t think you would be sent to prison. You might be fined.’

‘Tha’s all right then,’ he said complacently. ‘I haven’t got any money, so fining me wouldn’t do no good, would it?’

She laughed. ‘No, I suppose not, but confine your exploring to the village and the heath in future, will you?’

They arrived at the school which stood on the corner of the crossroads. It was a very small building, having only two classrooms and a small playground. She ushered him in front of her to the room where the head was teaching the older pupils. She saw Chloe through the glass in the door and hurried out to her.

‘My lady, this is an unexpected pleasure.’

‘Miss Green, I’ve found one of your flock and have brought him back to you.’

‘Oh, it’s that naughty Ronald Barlow. He’s more often absent than present, I’m afraid.’ She gave him a little push. ‘Go into class, young man, and stay there until you are sent home.’

He grinned at Chloe and sauntered into the classroom. Chloe watched him go. ‘He’s quite a cheeky little fellow,’ she said.

‘I hope he hasn’t been rude to you, my lady.’

‘Not at all. I found his conversation quite refreshing. Please don’t punish him too severely.’

‘I expect he’ll be given some lines and kept in at playtime. Would you like to see what the children are doing? I was about to give them dictation. And the younger ones could sing a song for you.’

Chloe went into the classroom and wandered from desk to desk as the children were writing, some of them were sitting three to a desk meant for two. Then she stood at the back while they sang ‘Golden Slumbers’, a little too robustly for a lullaby.

‘We are awfully crowded what with twenty evacuees besides our own children,’ Miss Green explained as she conducted Chloe to the door afterwards. ‘If you could use your influence to have the evacuees accommodated elsewhere, my lady, it would be most appreciated. I know we should be compassionate after what the children have been through in London, but most of them have no idea how to behave and they are teaching our own pupils bad habits. And some of the language is appalling.’

‘I am sorry to hear that, Miss Green. I’ll speak to the Chairman of the Governors, but I don’t know what else we can do. I’m afraid we all have to make sacrifices in this war.’

‘I know that, my lady, but the children should not have to suffer because of it. The children are our future.’

‘You are right, of course. I’ll see what I can do.’

She left and continued on her way. Why everyone in the village thought she could wave a magic wand and solve all their problems, she did not know. Marcus said it was her own fault for being so approachable and bending over backwards to help them. As far as she was concerned, it was a pleasure as well as a duty. Being a member of the aristocracy gave her responsibilities as well as privileges, and even those were being slowly eroded.

She smiled and knocked on the back door of Miss Bright’s little cottage and then opened the door to call, ‘It’s me, Nanny.’

She was soon ensconced beside the fire in a sitting room that was tiny but cheerful. On every surface were snapshots of children; she and her brother looking self-conscious and old-fashioned, Gilbert and Prudence, playing and laughing, another of them riding their ponies. Nanny Bright hobbled about making tea and producing biscuits but she wouldn’t accept help as Chloe well knew. ‘They are very plain, my lady, not like the biscuits we had at the big house before the war. How are you managing up there with half the staff in the forces?’

‘Oh, we manage well enough. Prue is coming home on leave tomorrow. I expect she will find time to come and see you. She will want to thank you for the birthday present you sent her.’ Miss Bright had knitted a scarf and beret in warm white wool.

‘Did she have a good birthday?’ She put a cup of tea and a small plate on a little table beside Chloe’s chair.

‘She and a few of her colleagues had a celebratory glass of champagne at work and in the evening they went to a dance at the assembly hall near her billet.’

Nanny smiled. ‘A bit different from your twenty-first then. I recall a glittering ball, oceans of champagne and punch and heaps of food, not to mention dozens of young men eager to pay court to you. But you did well, catching an earl.’

‘It wasn’t the earl I married, Nanny, but the man. And I have never regretted it.’

‘And now my poor Prudence celebrates with nothing more to mark that important milestone than a glass of champagne.’

‘Well, times have changed, haven’t they? She was lucky to have that. We will try and make it up to her when she comes home.’

‘What is she doing exactly?’

‘I don’t know. It’s all very hush-hush. She says she’s only a clerk, but I think there’s more to it than that.’

‘Of course there is. She is a very bright girl and I should know. What about Master Gilbert? He’s in his father’s old regiment, isn’t he?’

‘Yes, but tells me he’s volunteered for the Parachute Regiment.’

‘Oh dear, that sounds dangerous.’

‘He says it isn’t. “Easy as falling off a log”, he told me.’

‘Believe that, if you like.’

‘I have to, otherwise I should be worried to death.’

‘And his lordship? Is he well?’

‘Very well. Involved with the Home Guard.’

‘So I heard. I saw Mrs Stevens in the shop and she told me Bill was doing hours and hours of overtime up at the hall and she hardly ever sees him. What’s more, he’s being very secretive. There’s a rumour that they’re digging an underground tunnel from the hall to the station. Goodness knows what for. He wouldn’t say. She said Mrs Potts had seen dozens of soldiers coming and going in trucks bringing equipment.’

‘I really don’t know what it’s about, Nanny. No one tells me anything, but I can’t believe that’s true. I’m sure his lordship would have told me.’

‘That’s what I told her. If people don’t know what’s going on, they make something up and she would do better to keep her mouth shut on the subject.’

‘Oh, Nanny, you didn’t.’

‘Yes, I did. And I’ll say the same to anyone, no matter who they are.’ She offered the plate. ‘Would you like another biscuit?’

‘No, thank you. I must be off. Lots to do. I’ll come again when I can. Is there anything you need?’

‘No, thank you, my lady. I’m very comfortable here, thanks to you and his lordship.’