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we spent hours talking in the Station Hotel. He told me that he would have joined the services, except he was recruited to work at Bletchley.’ The commander looked down at Henry’s closed file. ‘He didn’t inveigle his way into Bletchley, Commander Dalton, you recruited him.’ There was another look between the two men, but neither said anything, so Ena carried on. ‘Sir,’ she said to the man from MI5, ‘I would like you to look into what you have on Henry Green. And when you do, you’ll realise that a terrible mistake has been made – and that Henry is not a traitor.’

‘I’m afraid he is, Miss Dudley,’ the MI5 man said. ‘When we searched the house in Northampton we found Nazi propaganda – printed leaflets and pamphlets. The originals were in Henry Green’s handwriting. Ena’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I’m sorry, my dear.’

Standing up, Mr Robinson took Ena’s hand and gently shook it. ‘I must get back to London.’ After shaking the hands of Commander Dalton and Herbert Silcott, he picked up his belongings and made for the door.

Ena started to go after him but was stopped by Mr Silcott who gripped her by the forearm and whispered, ‘No!’ She began to protest but quietened when the commander turned at the door and shot her a fierce look.

‘Sit down, Ena,’ Mr Silcott said.

‘And calm down,’ Commander Dalton barked, walking back to his desk.

Ena dropped into the nearest chair and put her head in her hands.

‘We’d better go too, Horace. Come on, Ena.’ Her boss put his hands on her shoulders and she lifted her head. ‘You’re exhausted. Let’s go to the hotel and have something to eat. It’s been a long and stressful day.’

Ena stood up, and with her head held high, looked into Commander Dalton’s eyes. She braced herself to tell him again that Henry was not a spy, but her nerve failed and she offered him her hand. ‘Goodbye.’

‘Goodbye, Ena.’ The commander took her hand, but instead of shaking it, he held it. ‘I understand how unhappy you are about Henry. I liked him too, very much. But in war it is necessary to sacrifice a few to save many. I want you to remember that. Remember too that your bravery in exposing Frieda and Walter Voight for spies has saved thousands of lives.

I can’t say anymore, but with Walter’s connections to the MoD and Frieda’s here, if it hadn’t been for you, God knows how much havoc they would have caused.’ Ena smiled thinly through her tears. ‘I’ll get a car to take you to the hotel. And,’ he said, picking up the telephone, ‘I hope to see you in a couple of weeks.’

It was only five o’clock but it was already dusk. Standing in the doorway of the mansion, waiting for Herbert Silcott, Ena watched the commander’s big black motorcar drive up from the direction of the motor pool. The car cruised to a halt a few feet from her and the driver got out and stood by the back door. Ena waved to him to let him know it was her that he was driving, and he touched his cap.

Arriving at her side, Herbert Silcott said, ‘Right, let’s get an early dinner. Horace Dalton has recommended somewhere just outside of Bletchley.’

‘I’m not sure I’ll be able to eat anything,’ Ena sighed.

The driver opened the door nearest to Ena and she dropped onto the back seat. Herbert Silcott walked round to the other side of the car and got in. ‘Drat!’ he said, as the driver was about to close his door. ‘Hang on a minute will you?’ He opened his briefcase. ‘I thought as much.’

‘What is it?’

‘I’ve left my portfolio case in Dalton’s office.’ Jumping out of the car he said to the driver, ‘You know where you’re going.’ And to Ena, ‘I’ll see you there.’

‘Can’t you come back for it in the morning? There’ll be time after breakfast, before--’

‘There are documents I must look at tonight, in case I do need to return tomorrow.’ Closing the car door, Herbert Silcott tapped the roof and the driver started the engine. Ena sank back into the soft leather seat and the car purred gracefully down the drive.

As they neared the main gate Ena took her identity card and Bletchley pass from her handbag, but the familiar vehicle was waved through.

The rhythmic hum of the big saloon made her sleepy and she closed her eyes. She felt the car pull to the left as it turned a corner, a slight jolt, and then the gentle throb as the engine laboured in neutral. Thinking they had arrived at the hotel, Ena opened her eyes.

‘Why have we stopped?’ she asked, looking out of the window into descending darkness. Leaning forward, Ena tapped the driver on the shoulder. ‘Where are we?’

The driver half turned and started to answer her when the shrieking sound of an army transport train drowned his words. A second later, enveloped in smoke and steam, the car gently rocked. ‘Railway crossing barrier,’ the driver shouted when the train had passed.

‘I gathered that! But why are we at a railway crossing?’ She felt edgy. She had been anxious all day, but now she was panicked. In all the times she had been to Bletchley she had never noticed a railway crossing. ‘Where are you taking me?’

‘Don’t worry, miss, you’ll come to no harm.’ The barrier rose and the car rumbled over the railway tracks to meet the road on the other side. Soon they were driving down country lanes made darker than night by overhanging trees.

Unable to see anything out of the side window, Ena leaned forward and craned her neck to look through the windscreen. From the small amount of illumination given off by the vehicle’s shaded headlights, she could only see a few feet of road directly in

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