‘Thank you for coming, George. I wasn’t sure if you would.’
‘Why wouldn’t I?’
George’s manner was a little stiff. Mitch smiled ruefully.
‘I think we both know why, George. We circle around each other like a couple of tomcats.’
George stared at him for a moment before saying, ‘Mitch, I admire and respect you, but it’s not – comfortable to know that you are in love with my wife.’
‘Can’t help it, old chap. Have been ever since she pulled me from my crashed aircraft in no-man’s-land. George’ – Mitch leaned across the table as if to emphasize his point and now he was deadly serious – ‘I propagate the notion that I am a present-day Casanova deliberately. Yes, I do like the company of women and yes, I do have a few girlfriends, but I give you my solemn word that I would never do anything to hurt Pips and even if I were to try to come between you, that would hurt her – and you. And, though you might not believe me, I will return the compliment you have just paid me. Our feelings for each other are mutual. Let’s just say the better man won the hand of the fair maiden. Now, let me order us both a drink and I’ll tell you why I asked you to meet me.’
When they were settled in a secluded corner of the bar, Mitch said, ‘I think you’ll agree with me that this “phoney war” isn’t going to last for ever. Although there have been a few skirmishes at sea, there has been no significant military action on land, even though we’ve sent men from the British Expeditionary Force into France. Hitler isn’t going to be content with what he already has and then it will all kick off. When it does, George, I’m sure you know better than me, that we are going to be one of his prime targets. I think he will attack other countries first – probably Norway, Holland and, certainly, France and Belgium, for whom we hold such fond memories—’ Mitch paused for a moment. ‘And then he will get to us. When that happens, he’s going to inflict a campaign of bombing upon us the like of which we have never seen.’
‘I agree with everything you say,’ George murmured, still mystified as to exactly why Mitch had wanted to meet him. As if reading his mind, Mitch said, ‘I’m probably too old to rejoin the RAF – at least in an active position – but I want to be involved. And so does Jeff. I have my little aeroplane to put at the disposal of any department that needs it, either to fly myself or to be used by others. I thought you might have an idea of who I might contact to offer my services.’
‘But I thought you’d volunteered to be an air-raid warden in our district. That’s what Pips told me.’
‘True, I have, but that’s not going to be enough for either me or Jeff.’
George was thoughtful before he said slowly, ‘There are one or two people I could put you in touch with – probably through Rebecca’s husband, Matthew.’
Mitch smiled. ‘I’d be very grateful, but there is also something else.’
‘Oh?’
‘Pips.’
‘Ah.’
‘Perhaps I’m breaking her confidence here, but I don’t think so. You’re bound to find out sooner or later anyway.’
‘Go on.’ Again George was tight-lipped. Was this something Pips had shared with Mitch and not with him?
‘If – no doubt I should say when – we get bombing here in London, Pips intends to drive an ambulance.’
George gave an inward sigh of relief as he said, ‘Yes, I do know about that. She’s already approached Rebecca to introduce her to the authorities. The Red Cross, I think.’
‘And – er – are you happy about that?’
‘Of course not, but I can’t think what to do to stop her.’
‘Isn’t there someone amongst your contacts who could find her some work – preferably somewhere out of London? I mean, surely the authorities are moving top secret stuff out of the city. She’s a very clever woman. She’d be very good in that sort of work.’
George stared at Mitch. ‘Now that is a very good suggestion. Thank you.’
A little later Mitch met up with Jeff.
‘And did he buy it?’ Jeff asked. ‘All that stuff about you and me wanting to be put in touch with some of his contacts?’
‘I think so. He didn’t seem to suspect that we might already have all the contacts we need, but I had to ask him for help for myself – or rather us – so that I could then bring the conversation round to Pips.’
‘And did you mention Bletchley Park?’
Mitch shook his head. ‘No, only very indirectly. I just said that the authorities must be moving secret stuff out of London and that she might be able to help in that sort of work.’
‘You devious bugger, Mitch! You really ought to be a spy.’
Mitch grinned. ‘We might very well end up being just that, Jeff.’ Then he sobered. ‘I just hope my subterfuge works and he gets her out of London.’
‘I think we’re a bit long in the tooth for the spying malarkey,’ Jeff said. ‘Not physically agile enough now, but I think we can still make ourselves useful. But we’re just going to have to be patient until things really start to hot up, then they’ll be wanting the services of a couple of reprobates like us.’
Despite Mitch’s protestations to the contrary, George was worried. He wanted to get Pips out of London, away from the bombing and – if he was perfectly honest with himself and he usually was – away from Mitch Hammond. Mitch was going to be living in the city almost permanently now and, as an air-raid warden, he would be patrolling the area that included the block of apartments where George and Pips lived. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Pips; he knew she would not be unfaithful to him and the fact that he actually liked Mitch made matters worse. He’d tried to dislike him, but he couldn’t. He admired the man, but that didn’t mean he liked the idea of Mitch dropping in to see Pips any time he liked for a cup of tea and a cosy chat. And now, Mitch had confirmed that Pips was serious about volunteering to drive an ambulance anywhere in London! He had to get her away. But where? And how? She wouldn’t agree to go home to Lincolnshire; he’d tried that. She wanted to be useful. She needed to be useful in this war just like she had been in the last one. But his meeting with Mitch had put an idea into his head.
In his work at the War Office, George encountered a great many visitors to the department. He heard the whispers and the gossip and he was in a good position to sound out his colleagues for advice. And so, when he heard that the Government Code and Cypher School had been set up at Bletchley Park, he realized at once that this was what Pips could do, though he knew he would have to tread carefully. Somehow, he would have to let Pips come to the decision herself, but first he got in touch with one of the men who recruited people for the GC&CS at the Foreign Office. Because he worked at the War Office, and with Matthew’s help too, George was able to obtain an appointment quite quickly. Sitting down in front of the tall, thin man with receding hair but sharp, intelligent eyes, he came straight to the point.
‘My wife is an extremely clever woman and I think she would be an ideal candidate for Bletchley Park.’
‘Really?’ Michael Duncan sounded sceptical and George hid his smile.
‘Of course, you would expect me to say that,’ he said mildly and the man looked slightly sheepish. ‘She and her brother are excellent chess players and they vie with each other to do the Telegraph’s crossword puzzles.’ He paused for effect and added, almost casually, ‘I think Pips’s fastest time has been twelve minutes.’
‘Twelve minutes! Good God – I can only manage fifteen.’
George smiled and inclined his head. ‘I can’t even get that close.’
Mr Duncan was thoughtful. ‘Ask her to come and see me.’
‘If you don’t mind, I’d rather she didn’t know I was involved.’
The man raised his eyebrows as George leaned forward. ‘She drove an ambulance at the front in the last war and wants to drive again here – in London – in the bombing, because we’re bound to get some sooner or later. I’ll be blunt – I don’t want her to and, besides, with her talents I think she could be of much more use at somewhere like Bletchley.’ He held his breath whilst the man opposite him was deep in thought for a few moments.
‘Then I’ll write to her – I’ll just say that her name has come to my attention.’ Mr Duncan smiled and his eyes twinkled over his spectacles. ‘In my job, I don’t have to say where my information comes from.’
George stood up and held out his hand. ‘I’m extremely grateful.’
‘Just leave your address with my secretary and your wife will receive a letter by the end of the week.’
‘George, do you know anything about this?’
‘What’s that, my darling?’
‘This letter from someone called Michael Duncan. He wants to see me at the Foreign Office. D’you know who he is and what it’s about?’
George had rehearsed in his mind how to handle this very question when the letter arrived.
‘Let me see.’ He held out his hand for the letter. ‘I’ve heard of him,’ he said slowly as he read it, tacitly implying that he hadn’t met him without actually lying. ‘What does he do?’
‘I’m not exactly sure. Some sort of recruitment for war work, I think, but how did he get hold of my name?’
‘That, I can’t tell you.’
‘Can’t – or won’t, George?’
He smiled as he handed back the letter. ‘Can’t, darling.’
Pips frowned and muttered a sceptical, ‘Mm, that probably amounts to the same thing.’ She glanced down at the letter again and murmured, ‘But I’ll go and see him. It might be something interesting.’