The 9 by Madalyn Morgan (tools of titans ebook .txt) 📕

Mam. If anything had happened to Tom, you’d have been sent a telegram. And it wouldn’t be addressed to me, it would be addressed to you and Dad.’ The adhesive on the top of the envelope eventually gave way to the pressure Ena was applying. She took out a single sheet of white paper. It had neither the name of the sender nor a signature. It didn’t need one, Ena knew exactly who had sent it and where it had come from. ‘It’s an order for work,’ she said, returning the letter to its envelope.

‘Why did they bring it here to you?’

‘I was at their offices today.’ She waved the envelope as if in some way it backed up her story. ‘I took some work over.’ To Ena’s relief, her mother didn’t ask where the offices were, so she carried on. ‘They should have given me the order when I was there, but the boss was in a meeting. Anyway, we’ve got the work, that’s all that matters.’ Ena folded the envelope in four and put it in her pocket.

If she hadn’t been so hungry, Ena would have gone straight up to her bedroom to read the document. but having only eaten a round of toast at breakfast and a slither of sponge cake at teatime, she was ravenous.

Lily Dudley ladled stew into a bowl and placed it in front of Ena. It was mostly carrots and parsnips, which her father had grown in his allotment. Because of rationing there was no meat in it, but it was hot and it smelt good. While her mother cut and buttered a slice of bread, Ena tucked in. The document was burning a hole in her pocket but whatever Commander Dalton had to say would have to wait until she had eaten.

At eleven o’clock, her father came in from a night on ARP watch. Too tired to do more than wash her face, Ena kissed her mum and dad goodnight and went up to bed.

In her bedroom, she closed the door and undressed. She took the envelope from her jacket pocket, and hung the jacket up next to her skirt in her small wardrobe. Pulling on her nightgown, she jumped into bed.

The letter was clearly not an order for work or it would have been stamped Top Secret and sent from the Ministry of Defence in London. Ena had never been privy to any personal correspondence from Commander Dalton at Bletchley Park but she was certain if she had it would have been signed. This document wasn’t. Pulling the blankets up to her neck, leaving only her hands exposed to the cold air in her bedroom, Ena began to read. Green vouched. Ena leant back against the headboard of her bed and looked to the heavens. ‘Thank you, Henry,’ she said aloud, before reading on. Do not speak to anyone about the events of today. The word ‘anyone’ was underlined in red. Imperative that no one learns of the loss on the train. ‘No one’ was also underlined in red. Work order to follow. Proceed as usual. Will be in touch. Ena stared at the letter in disbelief – and read it again.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Freda was already at her desk when Ena arrived at the factory on Saturday morning. ‘Herbert didn’t come back here yesterday,’ she said, lifting her head and swivelling round in her chair to face Ena. ‘I was so worried, I telephoned the house, but there was no reply. Any idea why he didn’t come in?’

Ena’s mind was blank. She needed to say something – to stop her friend from worrying, if nothing else. ‘I don’t know. I--’ The telephone on Mr Silcott’s desk burst into life. Ena put her hand up and mouthed, Hang on.

‘Silcott Engineering. Can I help you?’

‘This is Commander Dalton.’

Ena’s mouth went very dry at the sound of the commander’s voice. He had never telephoned at the weekend before. She swallowed. ‘Ena Dudley speaking,’ she said, in as normal a voice as possible.

‘Are you alone?’

She wondered how she could let him know that she was not, and said, ‘Mr Silcott hasn’t arrived yet.’ Her heart beat so loudly she felt sure Freda would hear it. ‘Can Miss King or I help you?’

‘He telephoned from the hospital.’

Hospital? Gripped by panic, Ena felt the colour drain from her face and turned sideways, so Freda didn’t see. ‘I’ll get Mr Silcott to telephone you as soon as he comes in,’ she said, hoping her voice didn’t betray her fear.

‘He won’t be coming in today.’

‘I see...’

‘Mrs Silcott will ring to say he has the flu and is staying at home. I’m biking a work order to you. When you’ve completed the work, I want you to deliver it. Understood?’

‘Understood, sir. Thank you.’

‘Don’t thank me until you know what it is I want you to do, Miss Dudley.’

Ena laughed nervously. ‘I’m confident that we will do whatever is necessary to get the job done and delivered on time.’

‘Goodbye, Miss Dudley.’

‘Good bye, Commander.’

‘Is he giving us more work?’ Freda asked.

‘Yes. He’s biking up a work order.’ Ena pulled a mock-worried face. ‘We should have waited until he was out of his meeting yesterday and brought the order with us. Still, no harm done.’ The telephone sprang into life again, making Ena jump. ‘We’re popular today,’ she laughed, more from tension than humour. She picked up the receiver quickly in case Freda offered to answer it. ‘Silcott Engineering, Can I help you?’

‘It’s Dorothy Silcott here.’

The boss’s wife sounded tearful. ‘Good morning, Mrs Silcott. I’m afraid Mr Silcott hasn’t arrived yet.’

‘He won’t be coming in today. He has the flu. The doctor says he must stay in bed until his temperature is back to normal.’

‘Oh, I am sorry, Mrs Silcott.’ Ena glanced across the room at Freda, who was about