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

Freda had touched Mr Silcott’s arm the previous night, could be one of those times. She grimaced. Mr Silcott walking out with Freda occasionally was bad enough, but the thought of her being his mistress and doing it with him, that was too much for even Ena’s imagination to contemplate. She shook her head to clear the image from her mind and giggled.

Peering into the factory through the gaping hole that until last night had been a steel frame and solid wooden door, Ena wrinkled her nose. The pungent smell of burnt oil and charred timber coming from inside the building was overpowering.

Taking her handkerchief from her handbag and holding it over her mouth and nose, Ena entered the main factory. She looked around and began to tremble. The events of the night before – bombs falling, losing her hearing, not being able to see when the electricity was knocked out – overwhelmed her. The fact that she could easily have been killed, a reality that until now she had largely ignored, sent her running out of the building.

Outside, in the early morning mist, Ena sat on a pile of bricks and calmed herself while she waited for Mr Silcott. She didn’t have to wait long. He arrived in his car on the dot of nine, Freda on her bicycle a minute later.

‘Ena, I would like you to accompany Miss King... Freda... to Bletchley today.

‘Bletchley?’ Ena had never heard of Bletchley. Then the penny dropped and so did she, almost. ‘Of course, Mr Silcott, but without you, I--’

‘You’ll be fine, Ena. I have to take my wife to Coventry. She is naturally worried about her parents. Williams Engineering, my father-in-law’s factory, took a direct hit in the bombing last night. It has been reduced to rubble.’ Ena gasped and put her hand to her mouth. ‘Don’t worry, my dear. Apart from the night watchman, who thankfully saw the planes approaching and was able to get to the shelter, everyone had left for the day. Hopefully they all made it home and were able to take cover in their Andersons before…’ He shook his head. ‘The night watchman telephoned my father-in-law after the first raid, and then my father-in-law telephoned us. He said it was too soon to know how many casualties there were, but the city centre was ablaze. He suspects the number will be in the thousands.’

‘Do Mrs Silcott’s parents live near the factory?’

‘No, they live some miles away, thank goodness. When we spoke to them the house only had a couple of broken windows and a few slates missing from the roof.’ He sighed heavily. ‘That, as I said, was after the first raid. Mrs Silcott telephoned her parents after the second assault, and again this morning, but couldn’t get through. The BBC said the telephone lines are down.’

‘She must be out of her mind with worry,’ Ena said.

‘She is. She’s worried that her parents were caught up in the second bombing, which is why she wants to go to Coventry. And she’s too upset to drive herself.’

‘That’s understandable.’

Mr Silcott smiled at Ena but didn’t look at Freda. ‘So I must take her. But first I shall fetch your work.’ He disappeared through the gaping aperture and into the factory.

Although she had put on a smart suit and had ironed a clean blouse, Ena needed to be reassured. ‘Do I look smart enough to go to this Bletchley place, Freda?’

‘Of course you do.’ Freda pulled at the buckle at the waist of her mackintosh. ‘This is not what I would normally wear to go to Bletchley Park. To be honest, with everything that was going on last night, I didn’t think you’d get the wiring on the rotors finished, so I didn’t put on my best coat.’

‘Ready, ladies?’ Mr Silcott called, emerging from the factory carrying a large reinforced suitcase containing Ena’s work. ‘It’s heavy,’ he said, handing it to Ena, so she could get the measure of its weight.

‘It’s fine,’ she smiled.

‘Perhaps you can take it in turns. You won’t have to carry it far. I’ll take you to Rugby station in the car and as soon as I get home I’ll telephone Bletchley, ask them to collect you from the station. So,’ he said, looking from Ena to Freda, ‘if you are both ready? We have half an hour to get to the station. If we leave now, you’ll make the 9:45.’

Ena sat in the back of Herbert Silcott’s big green Austin with the case containing her work on the seat next to her. Freda sat in the front passenger seat and chatted non-stop, telling Mr Silcott how sorry she was that the factory had been damaged in the bombing and that she hoped it would be back to full production very soon. ‘And if there is anything I can do. Anything at all, Herbert,’ she cooed.

Ena’s cheeks flushed at Freda’s blatant show of affection and she looked out of the window. As she turned, she caught Mr Silcott looking at her in the reverse mirror. He wants to see my reaction, she thought, and put on a smile of surprise, as if she hadn’t heard what Freda said.

The train was ready to leave when they arrived on the platform at Rugby station. Ena carried the case to the train while Mr Silcott went to the ticket office. As soon as she saw him heading across the platform, she boarded. Out of breath, he handed Freda the tickets. ‘I’ll make sure someone’s there to meet you when you arrive. Have a safe journey,’ he said, glancing at the case at Ena’s feet. Ena nodded, bent down, and took hold of the handle.

Freda jumped onto the train waving the tickets, the platform attendant blew his whistle, and Mr Silcott closed the door.

Waving goodbye to her boss, Ena suddenly remembered the wages. ‘Mr Silcott?’ she shouted