‘Where are we?’ he asked of the woman driver.
‘Sir – I don’t rightly know …’
‘Somewhere in Scotland, surely?’
‘Yes, sir. Somewhere in Scotland.’ She stared ahead, her cheeks pinking.
‘So if you don’t know where we are,’ he teased, ‘how will you know when we get there?’
She could well be lost, he thought mischievously. It was two years since signposts had been removed – even the one at Holdenby crossroads – so that the enemy, when he parachuted in, should not know where he had landed. Then, Britain daily had expected invasion and though it was almost certain that invasion would never happen now, still the signposts and names of railway stations had not been put back.
‘Sir. I know approximately where I am.’ She glanced at him sideways and saw the smile on his face. ‘And I know exactly where we are going, but you know I can’t tell you!’
‘Of course, Sergeant.’ He didn’t care where they were going. He had always thought – when They had told him his request to return to England had been approved, but with conditions attached – that he would be sent to some out-of-the-way, hush-hush place. Another Bletchley, only in the wilds. Doing exactly the same thing he had done at Bletchley. And where more wild than this, with the road they travelled little wider than a cart track and getting narrower by the mile?
A beautiful wilderness, for all that. To their left, the head of a loch, circled with hills, and to their right, mile upon mile of pine trees and tangled undergrowth and the sun, big and orange, beginning to sink behind those purple hills.
He looked at his watch. Ten o’clock. Daylight lasted longer the further north they travelled. In London – and in Liverpool too – blackout conditions would already be in force, he supposed.
‘What time is blackout?’
‘Depending on where you are – and give or take a minute or two – round about ten o’clock.’
‘Should you have told me that, sergeant?’ he said with mock severity.
‘Oh yes, sir. I got it from the newspaper this morning.’
She was biting on her bottom lip to suppress a smile. She was really rather nice. Married, of course. Her wedding ring was the first thing he noticed about her capable left hand. There were many married women in the armed forces, he supposed, and soon, given luck and seven days’ marriage leave, Daisy would be another of them.
‘I don’t suppose,’ he hazarded, shifting his position the better to see her face, ‘that if we were to pass a phone box you could stop? I’d like to ring my fiancée. We haven’t spoken to each other for –’
‘Sir!’ She cut him short, her face all at once very serious. ‘There are no phone boxes around here. All removed. Security, see. But even if there were and you ordered me to stop – we-e-ll, I’d be bound to report it as soon as we arrived because it would be more than my stripes were worth if I didn’t!’
‘And you’ll report this conversation?’
‘No, sir.’ She was smiling again. ‘Not this time. Only you’ve got to realize the way it is.’
‘Yes. I realize.’ Phones, where they were going, would be listened-in to or scrambled, and every letter he wrote censored. He expected it and he didn’t care, ‘I suppose we are allowed to have phone calls?’
‘With permission, yes, sir. You’ll be able to phone out, sometimes, but there are no calls allowed in. I’ve been there a year now, and I still don’t know the phone number. And when you do phone, you’ll have to get used to the fact that someone will almost certainly be listening.’
‘Hmm.’ He folded his arms and stared ahead. More hush-hush than Bletchley Park, this new destination. At Bletchley he had at least been trusted with the phone.
Then he shifted in his seat, straightened his shoulders and allowed himself a small, secret smile. He was home and soon Daisy would know it in spite of all the petty restrictions.
And that was all that mattered!
Wren Daisy Dwerryhouse, summoned to the phone in the hall at Wrens’ Quarters, Hellas House, said, ‘Dwerryhouse,’ and waited, breath indrawn. It was always like this now, when anyone at all phoned.
Keth? whispered a voice inside her, even though she knew it would be Mam or Drew or Tatty.
‘Hi, Daiz!’ Only Drew called her Daiz. ‘Just thought I’d ring, see how you are and if there are any messages for Rowangarth.’
‘Drew! You’re going home!’
‘Only seventy-two hours. We’re getting de-gaussed again so most of us have got a spot of leave.’
‘Is Kitty going with you?’
‘She is. She managed to wangle it. Well – you know Kitty!’
Daisy knew her, and liked her; liked her a lot in spite of the fact that Kitty’s coming to England had resulted in near heartbreak for Lyndis, with whom Daisy shared a cabin.
‘Well, enjoy yourselves. I’m just fine, tell Mam and Dada. And give my love to Aunt Julia. I should be home on long leave myself before so very much longer. That’ll put a smile on Mam’s face. Oh – and give my love to Kitty too, won’t you?’
She smiled into the receiver as she replaced it; just as if she were smiling at Drew, her brother – her half-brother. Dear Drew who was so in love, just as she was, and planning a wedding as soon as They, the faceless ones, allowed it because in wartime, They could do anything they wanted and without so much as a by-your-leave.
She opened the door of Cabin 4A, closed it carefully, then paused to think about what she would say.
‘That was Drew on the phone.’ Leading-Wren Lyndis Carmichael said it for her. ‘And he’s in dock and taking Kitty out and not you and me.’ Not any more, since Kitty.
‘Yes, but they’re going home. He’s got seventy-two hours’ leave. He just phoned to see if there were any messages.’
‘I see. And you don’t have to look so guilty. I brought it on myself, didn’t I? Fell hook, line and sinker for him and then he ditches me for Kitty Sutton, one of your hallowed Clan!’
‘No, Lyn! Drew liked you a lot – then Kitty happened along and that was it! It was nothing to do with the Clan.’
‘You’re right. It wasn’t. And I should’ve got used to it by now, but being dropped still hurts, Daisy, because I still love him – more than ever, if that’s possible. Even though he’s going to marry Kitty, it doesn’t stop me wanting him.’
‘Lyn, love – what can I say? Both you and Drew are special to me, and Kitty too, so I’ve got to sit on the fence as far as you and he are concerned. Don’t ask me to take sides.’
‘I won’t. Only you can’t turn love off. You can try, but the loving is always there.’
‘I know. It would be the same for me if Keth found someone else. And don’t think I’m all smug, Lyn, because I’ve got a ring on my finger. I worry, sometimes, that we’ll be so long apart he’ll forget what I look like. I mean – why did he have to be sent back to Washington? Three years away, then one day, out of the blue, he’s on the phone – back home. And just when we think we’ll be getting married They send him away again. Who do They think They are, then? Almighty God?’
‘Of course they do! Has it taken you all this time for the penny to drop? We are only names and numbers to that lot! But I’ll tell you something, Dwerryhouse D. I’m going to have the time of my life cocking a snook at Authority the minute I get back to civvy street again. Just imagine seeing an officer and