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

she turned the doorknob and gave the door a gentle push. It opened. Worried that by now Freda would have left the commander’s office and, not finding Ena in the canteen, would come looking for her, Ena stepped into the hut, shutting the door behind her.

Looking into the room, Ena caught her breath. The other end of the building had been given over to what looked like a hairdressing salon. Against the far wall was a modern hairdryer on a stand. It had a big grey domed metal hood. Ena peered inside. There were holes at the top so the hot air could blow through and dry your hair. Next to the dryer, was a chest of drawers with a hand mirror and a metal hand-held hairdryer on the top. Ena picked up the hairdryer. At one end was a hollow tube, at the other a solid cylindrical black handle with what looked like a brass tap sticking out of the bottom. She pressed the red button on top of its barrel-body but nothing happened, the cable wasn’t plugged in to the electric socket. Holding the hairdryer like a gun, Ena pointed it at an imaginary person and laughed.

Putting the hairdryer back where she had found it, Ena sat in a high-backed wooden chair in front of one of several mirrors that had been fixed to a long dressing table. Directly in front of her were Kirby grips, metal curlers, and metal wave grippers. No pipe cleaners or rags, which was what some of the girls at the factory used to curl their hair. She eyed the cosmetics with envy. There were half a dozen Cutex nail polishes in various shades of pink and red, a Yardley’s hand cream and face powder, a Max Factor and a Goya lipstick. Ena twisted the outer case of one lipstick and pulled a bright red lipstick from it. Tempted, but not daring to try the colour, she slipped it back into its case. Whoever it belonged to had money. A lipstick like that would cost seven or eight shillings.

On the far wall were two hand-basins – a bar of Lux soap on one and Pears on the other. Above them shampoo and conditioning cream.

She looked at her watch. Freda would definitely be out of the interview with the commander now. Ena began to worry, but was quickly distracted by a clothes rail, the kind she saw in the smart dress shops in Coventry and Leicester. She jumped up to explore. The rack overflowed with elegant gowns for the evening, fashionable day clothes, and a selection of party dresses – high fashion and popular for occasions like the dance tomorrow night.

Next to the clothes rail was a table with a sewing machine, next to that an iron and ironing board. On the other side of the rail was a shoe rack packed with a dozen or more pairs of shoes. There were styles and colours for every occasion.

Ena jumped. ‘Binkie? I didn’t hear you. I hope it was all right for me to come in. The door was open.’

‘It’s fine.’ Binkie sat at a mirror. ‘I’ve just been called back to work. One of the girls has gone off sick and I’m covering the rest of her shift.’ She looked at her watch. ‘Better get cracking.’

Binkie’s hair was clean, but a little too conditioned for the style Ena had planned. But with a card of Kirby grips to hold it in place, the result was better than Ena had hoped. Swept up into an off-centre parting with two rolls of hair on top, and two at the side, and a velvet ribbon tied at the back, like a highway man’s pony tail in the nape of her neck, Binkie’s hair looked the height of fashion.

Binkie loved her new hairstyle. Ena thought it was as important that she saw it from the back, so gave Binkie the hand mirror, and held her breath. Binkie looked in the small mirror, turning her head this way and that to see her hair from every angle, and was delighted with it. Ena was too, and exhaled loudly.

Now all I have to do is get myself invited to the dance, she thought. She had enough money for the bus fare to Rugby and a return ticket to Bletchley – she would be given expenses to cover the transport costs eventually. And she had a room at the Station Hotel, courtesy of Commander Dalton. She doubted that the money for the hotel, and her expenses, came out of the commander’s pocket, but she didn’t care.

‘Binkie, I don’t want to keep you,’ Ena said, as Binkie was putting on her coat. ‘But is the dance tomorrow night only for people who work at Bletchley?’

‘Yes, darling, so you’re entitled.’

‘But I don’t actually work at the Park.’

‘Technically you don’t, but you’re here so often that no one would question your eligibility. And you have a pass, so you’ll be seen as just another worker bee among the thousands of bees who toil here for the greater good.’ Binkie laughed. ‘You’ll be here anyway, making the girls look ravishing.’ Ena pressed her lips together; she wasn’t sure she dare just turn up. ‘Bring something to change into, or borrow something.' Binkie pointed to the dresses on the clothes rail. ‘If you are stopped and questioned, which I’m sure you won’t be, let slip that you’re a friend of the Honourable Lady Arabella Crofton-Dimbleby. Dibbs’ Pa has a lot of clout around here, they wouldn’t dare turn you away if they think you know Lord C-D.’

‘I’m not sure, Lady… Dibbs is that keen on me. Couldn’t I give your name?’

‘Sorry, darling, no can do. I shall be otherwise engaged with an extremely handsome cryptographer.’

Binkie talking about a cryptographer reminded Ena of Henry. ‘Ah! I’ve just had a thought. I have a friend who works here. I might be