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

parts she delivered as being for X-machines, especially when speaking about her sabotaged work to Commander Dalton.

She had been working on jobs where parts ended up in machines at Bletchley Park for three years, but she still wasn’t privy to the work they did there, still hadn’t been given higher security clearance. It didn’t matter, as she answered to Commander Dalton. There was no one higher.

Having come to the conclusion that she needed to spend more time at Bletchley Park, Ena rang in sick one Monday morning and caught the 9:45 down there. A couple of Mondays after that, she was off with a head cold, the next time a dental appointment. She also took a couple of days of her annual holiday.

The extra time spent at the Park was working. She began to recognise people, and they began to recognise her. She got to know several people well enough to say hello and pass the time of day. Some would only smile. On the whole, the people who worked at Bletchley were polite enough, but they didn’t talk about their work. And when Ena asked what they did, they all said the same thing, communications. One too many questions and they clammed up, so she would change the subject.

Asking too many questions opened the door for whoever was sabotaging the work to befriend her, use her as what Commander Dalton called a mark, or try to turn her into a spy. Good God, what had she got herself into?

Most of the time, Ena felt as if she was running round in circles. In the crime and thriller books she read, detectives would have had a ‘breakthrough’ by now. She needed to talk to someone, discuss with them what she’d found out so far, but apart from Commander Dalton there was no one. She couldn’t talk to Ben, even though she didn’t think he was involved. She couldn’t tell Henry either, or could she? Ena decided she needed to move things on, and the only way to do that was to get to know more people at Bletchley. And for that, she needed to spend more time there.

In the first week of July, she asked Mr Silcott if she could take a week of her annual holiday, explaining that with working on Saturdays, and often Sundays, she was exhausted. Her boss agreed that she needed a break, but with several of the single women waiting for their call-up papers to join the WAAF and Auxiliary Ambulance Service, the workforce was thin on the ground. He also said that if Ena was away when work came in from Bletchley, there would be no one at the factory capable of doing it.

‘I’ll tell you what,’ Ena said, ‘I’ll telephone Bletchley and if there is any work on its way, and it needs to be completed by next Thursday night, I’ll stay and do it, deliver it on Friday, and take my holiday the week after.’ Herbert Silcott rubbed his chin. He didn’t look convinced. ‘I won’t be going to the seaside or anything. I’ll only go on days out. I’ll ring in every day and I’ll come in if we get a work order for Bletchley,’ she assured him.

Herbert Silcott said he would telephone Commander Dalton and ask if he was sending any work. Ena crossed the room and put on the kettle. She made tea while she waited for the two men to finish speaking.

‘What did he say?’ Ena asked, sure that she knew the answer.

‘A courier is on his way. Apparently a faulty X-board from a factory in Shropshire is arriving tomorrow and the commander wants you to look at it, put it right if possible.’ Ena nodded that she understood. She didn’t. ‘Not a lot of work involved, Dalton said, but it’s needed on Friday. You’ll have to put your holiday off, Ena. I’m sorry my dear.’

The courier arrived from Bletchley with a letter from Commander Dalton. It was short and to the point. X-board to follow. Work as usual. Do nothing to cause suspicion. Deliver on Friday and prepare to return to the Park on Saturday. There is a dance you might like to attend. I have booked a room for you at the Station Hotel on Saturday night.

Ena whistled. ‘Blimey!’

Mr Silcott still didn’t allow Ena or Freda to travel to Bletchley Park on their own. ‘Freda will accompany you on Friday,’ he said, ‘I’m not having you carrying top-secret machinery on the train alone, it’s too dangerous.’

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Ena had telephoned the commander during the week to tell him that she and Freda would be at the Park on Friday, and that she needed half an hour on her own. It was important that she got to know a few people, men or women, who were going to the dance on Saturday night. With a bit of luck, someone would invite her to go with them, or at least agree to see her there. So, she explained, since the canteen was the place where almost everyone went for lunch, she thought she’d have her lunch there too.

She told him that she felt awful going behind Freda’s back. He reminded her that it was necessary – and reluctantly Ena agreed. She felt even worse about going to a dance and not telling her friend. Freda would have told Ena the minute she found out about it. They’d be discussing what they were going to wear by now. Ena sighed. Freda was bound to find out about the dance, but Ena would just have to cross that bridge when she came to it.

Commander Dalton had said leave it to me, so on that Friday when a Wren brought Freda a message from the commander asking her if she would spare him half an hour, Ena wasn’t surprised.

Freda dove into her handbag and took out a small satin makeup wallet.