Flo
A Home of Their Own
The usual noises of the Garity family, in whose house she was billeted, filtered through the thin walls and wooden floor of Flo’s bedroom. She looked at her watch: seven-thirty. She wasn’t due to go on her shift until four this afternoon, having worked until midnight the night before. She was so tired, but now she doubted that she would sleep. The two boys, one twelve and the other ten, who never spoke to her, no matter how much she tried with them, didn’t seem to care how much noise they made. She was sure one of them had kicked the door deliberately, and that had woken her. Now she could hear them arguing and their mother shouting at them, ‘You’ll wake that girl if you’re not careful. Shut up!’
That girl. You would think, as this is me fifth week here, she’d use me name. Flo wondered if she would ever feel welcome, or be made welcome by this family. What she heard next made her cheeks flush. ‘Why do we have to have her here anyway, Mum? She’s common. Freddie’s mum’s got a posh girl who can talk proper.’
‘Shut your mouth, Frank, or I’ll clip your ear for you.’
‘He’s right, though, Mabel.’ Her husband’s deep voice carried just as far as his wife’s high-pitched one. ‘I can’t understand a word she says. What’s the navy doing, recruiting a girl like her?’
‘Don’t you start, Mick. I’ve enough with the boys. She’s a nice girl, if you’d all just give her a chance. It’s how them from up north speak – she can’t help that.’
This soothed Flo a little, but the embarrassment she felt at being discussed in this manner made her not wish to leave her room until the male members of the family had gone out. That wasn’t easy, though, as she was dying for the lavatory, and she’d need to go through the kitchen to get out to the back yard, where the only toilet was.
Through the gap where the curtains didn’t meet, ice glinted on the windows. Flo shivered at the prospect of the bitter cold she would have to face, but she’d rather die of the cold than use the pot under the bed. Gathering her housecoat, she put it on over her pyjamas.
A feeling of utter misery and loneliness crept over her. If Mrs Leary knew how she was treated and the conditions she lived under, she’d be down here like a shot, wielding her frying pan to sort out the menfolk of this house. This thought made her smile, and suddenly her lot felt a bit brighter. There’s a war on, lass, so you’ve to get on with it.
The kitchen door creaked as she opened it. The lively banter ceased. ‘Eeh, I – I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt or owt. I just need to go out the back.’
The boys giggled and their father lifted his newspaper to cover his face. Mabel Garity hurried over to open the door for her. ‘Go on then, love, though mind yer don’t slip. And don’t worry if it don’t flush, as it’s frozen up. I’ll put a bucket of water down it when you’re done.’
The sound of their laughter as she closed the door cut through Flo. It was cruel and mocking, and even though Mabel had spoken up for her, hers was the loudest. How am I to bear it here?
Trying to keep warm under the bedcovers, after returning to her room, Flo got stuck into the crossword from the day before. She and Simon bought a copy each of The Times every day, and the next day competed as to who had filled in the most clues. At first Flo had won every time, but Simon was competitive and had redoubled his efforts, so now she had a job to beat him. Maybe, with the time she had on her hands today, she could complete it.
A knock on the door disturbed her. ‘I’ve some porridge left, if you’d like some, love.’
Not really wanting any, Flo accepted, as she saw these small kindnesses on Mabel Garity’s part as trying to compensate for her family’s unfriendliness.
‘Ooh, it’s freezing in here, love. I’ve a fire lit downstairs and the menfolk have all gone. Come and park yourself down there and get warm, eh?’
‘Are you sure I’ll not be in your way?’
‘No, I’m busy with the washing in the kitchen. You can sit in the parlour, if you like.’
‘I’ll give you a hand. I’m good with a mangle.’
The kitchen in this house was never a welcoming place, and that wasn’t all down to three members of the household not wanting her here. The dark-green gloss paint of the walls resisted any water, and often ran with the droplets caused by condensation or steam from whatever was cooking. Today water ran off the walls as if it was raining inside, as Mabel’s washing boiled away in a copper in the corner, causing a damp mist to fill the kitchen.
Against the opposite wall to the boiler, and between the door that led to the stairs and the back door, stood a scrubbed, dull wooden table, which would have benefited from being covered in a pretty cloth, as Mrs Leary’s was. Its position prevented one side from being used, making it impossible for Flo to sit with the family to eat, so she was usually served on a tray, if her mealtimes coincided with theirs. The pot sink was a stone colour and rough to the touch, rather than gleaming white, as Flo was used to. The oilcloth on the floor and the two leather chairs, which stood each side of the cooking range, were dark brown, adding to the overall gloom.
‘Eat your porridge first. Then, if you’re sure you want to help, you can turn the mangle. I’ve sheets in the copper that are ready for rinsing.’
Flo had dressed quickly, donning a skirt and jumper of thick wool, and now felt hot and clammy in the damp atmosphere. Porridge was the last thing she needed, but she somehow managed to eat the lumpy, half-warm stodge. Thoughts of lovely creamy porridge and warm buttered toast, which had been the normal breakfast at home – all served in a cheery and bright kitchen, with Mrs Leary telling tales of the dream she’d had the night before – gave Flo a pang of homesickness.
If it was just Mabel she had to cope with, Flo knew she could put up with everything else and even make a friend of the woman, but the rest of the family were never going to give her a chance. Somehow she had to find better lodgings for herself.
Sweat poured off her as she battled with the heavy handle of the mangle, which resisted the intrusion of the huge wet sheets with all its might, but Flo enjoyed the work and the chatter Mabel kept up throughout. It appeared that Mabel’s husband worked for the gas board and was exempt from being called up, but was always moaning, as he didn’t feel he was doing his bit and wanted to volunteer for the army. Mabel dreaded him doing so, but in a small way this lifted Mick Garity in Flo’s eyes. ‘Don’t mind him, you know,’ Mabel said. ‘He don’t seem friendly and welcoming, but he’ll come round, and once he does, so will the boys. The boys follow whatever their dad does, and on top of that, they don’t like sharing a bedroom and see you as the cause of them having to.’
‘I might not stay long . . . Me mate is looking for someone to share one of them flats that’s empty over the shops.’ Where this fib came from, Flo didn’t know. She’d seen a notice pinned to the board in the canteen at Bletchley that there was a flat going, but hadn’t given it a second thought until now.
‘Oh? Well, I can’t blame you. I could scalp that lot of mine. They’ve not made you welcome.’
‘By, I don’t blame them. It can’t be easy having a stranger thrust on you, especially one you can’t understand.’ Flo laughed and winked as she said this, and Mabel took it in jest.
‘Ha, you heard that then. Well, for what it’s worth, I like how you speak and could listen to you all day. I’m sorry you feel you can’t settle, but I wish you well. God knows what goes on up at that Park, but whatever it is, you’re doing your bit. You’re away from your family and friends, and that can’t be easy. I’m ashamed of my lot, but I don’t have much influence over them.’
Cycling to Bletchley Park much earlier than she needed to, Flo realized how hungry she was. Though the stodgy porridge had lain in her for a while, it was five hours since she’d eaten it, and the hard work of the mangling had given her an appetite. She had a ride of six miles to complete, but would get there by 2 p.m. She had plenty of time, so she decided she’d go to the canteen to have lunch and finish the crossword while she ate.
As she passed the noticeboard she saw that the flat was still advertised and wrote down the telephone number. Glad that she’d broached the subject with Mabel, but feeling as though she’d burned her bridges, Flo felt apprehension settle in her. Her need to escape the unhappiness she endured in her billet had prompted her, but what had she been thinking of? She wouldn’t be able to afford such a place on her own, and Simon seemed settled in his billet. Maybe she’d acted too hastily; after all, a few weeks were no time for a family to get used to another member joining them.
She made her mind up that she would decide about moving, or not, after she knew more about the flat and how much the rent was. This settled Flo. And solving three clues in quick succession, whilst eating a delicious lunch, cheered her. The Park was lucky with its food rations. According to Simon, Churchill had decreed that all the staff should be well fed and looked after, as their work was so vital and it was important to keep them fit and well. Tucking into chopped boiled eggs on a bed of spinach, topped with Béarnaise sauce and served with a chunk of home-made bread, was a treat for Flo.
By the time she’d finished eating, one or two of the previous shift were filtering in for a break. Kitty made a beeline for Flo. ‘Can’t you wait to be with lover-boy then, eh? It’s only three o’clock – you’re not on duty for an hour. Not a place to do your courting, you know.’
For the second time that day, Flo’s cheeks burned with embarrassment, but this soon turned to anger as Kitty leaned closer to her and lowered her voice. ‘You and that nancy boy don’t fool me. So don’t think you do. I reckon that bloke who was with you in the pub that day is his real lover. Dirty buggers. Ha, that’s an apt saying, if ever there was one.’
‘How dare you speak of a superior officer like that? By, you’re a disgrace.’
Kitty jumped back, but soon recovered. ‘I dare because it’s the truth, and one of these days I’m going to prove it, so watch yourself, girl. And tell lover-boy to keep looking over his shoulder.’
Flo clenched her hands tightly by her side, as she feared she’d claw at Kitty if she spoke another word. A voice she knew saved her. The tension eased as she turned in the direction from which the sound came.
‘Florence . . . Flo, over here. Well, well, I didn’t know you had landed here as well. How jolly.’
‘Belinda!’ Skirting round the amazed Kitty, Flo ran over to her friend. She hadn’t seen Belinda since they had parted company after their training together had ended. The hug she received made up for all she’d endured this morning at her digs, and from Kitty. ‘Eeh, it’s grand to see you, lass. How long have you been here?’
‘Just three days. One of them spent reading that damned Secrecy Act! Bloody thing was a mile long.’
‘I know. I’ve been here weeks, and I’m still reeling from it. Were you stationed somewhere else at first? Or shouldn’t I ask?’
‘I caught a wretched bug and was confined to the sickbay after we parted. And you?’
‘I came here immediately.’
‘I see you’ve made friends and influenced people already. What’s got her in a huff?’ Belinda sat down and indicated that Flo should too, but before she had time to answer the first question, another came. ‘You look altogether disgruntled, Flo. What’s it like here?’
‘Oh, it’s grand. At least, I enjoy my work. I have heard others grumbling about the repetitive nature of theirs, though. That’s Kitty, as was speaking to me. She’s the only bugbear. She has it in for me friend, Simon. She keeps trying to prove that he’s . . . well, that he likes men.’
‘That wouldn’t be Simon Fulworth, would it, by any chance?’
‘Aye, it is. He’s a reet nice bloke. Do you know him?’
‘Knew his sister at university, and heard as soon as I got here what tragedy had befallen her, and that her brother worked here. There’d been rumours about Simon’s persuasion in the past, but it’s nobody’s bloody business which way he swings. Though there’s always those who are out to make trouble. It was someone like Kitty in my school who nearly got me expelled, for getting into another girl’s bed and experimenting with her. Don’t look so shocked, Flo – it goes on all the time in boarding school. Quite healthy really, I think. I liked it, and might end up with a woman partner myself.’
Flo wanted to giggle. Belinda had a way of saying things that was very direct, and she wasn’t sure if she was making a joke or not. But then there was something about Belinda that suddenly made Flo realize this wasn’t just her making fun; it was true.
‘You’re safe – don’t worry, I don’t fancy you. Nor any woman I’ve met. And I do have an eye for the men, so perhaps I’ll go that way after all. By the way, do you sing or act?’ Flo was taken aback by this change of direction in the conversation. ‘Oh, don’t answer the singing bit. I know you do. You have quite a powerful voice. I’ve heard you. Remember? That night down in the Underground?’
‘Eeh, how could I forget – we had a grand time.’ Flo hesitated for a moment. Talking of their time together in London presented her with an opportunity to tell the truth. ‘Belinda, when we were in London, I told you a fib.’
‘Oh, don’t worry, I’m top-hole at fibbing. Is it important?’
Flo told her how she’d fibbed about coming to London with a schoolteacher as part of a school trip, when it was really Simon and his friend who’d taken her there; and why.
‘Understandable. I never knew this place existed, and you were trying to protect yourself from blurting out the wrong thing. So, you knew Lucinda then? A lovely girl. Fell in love with a German student, you know. I thought their romance was really going places, but then the war and all that. She was killed in France, I believe, whilst on a journalistic mission. Very brave, and all very sad.’
Flo covered up her surprise at all this coming out. ‘Aye, I knew her and loved her. We were good friends, even though we didn’t know each other long.’
‘I wouldn’t think anyone has to know you long to be friends with you, Flo. I feel as though I have known you all my life, and yet, but for a war, our paths would never have crossed. Did Lucinda mention her German boyfriend?’
Hating having to lie a second time, Flo shook her head. ‘No, we were never alone long enough for women’s talk. Most visits centred around Simon and his friend. Anyroad, Belinda, why’re you asking if I can sing and act?’
‘I didn’t tell you, but I’m a bit of a thespian . . . an actress. Did it at university. A fellow thespian, Petulia Norden, is here. She was one of our set and a damned fine actor. She collared me the moment she knew I was here. She’s getting a concert group together. Singers, musicians, actors – anyone who can entertain. She’s been here for months and says it’s jolly boring, with not much going on, so she decided to do something about it. She’s going to put on shows. Would you be game for that, Flo?’
Excitement settled in Flo at the prospect of this. She loved to sing, and maybe it would be a way of her making some friends. She nodded, ignoring the nerves that were already kicking in at the thought of it.
‘Right. I’m off-shift soon and meeting up with Petulia. I’ll put your name forward. Ask Simon about joining us, if you see him. I’m sure Lucinda mentioned once that her brother acted in a play at university.’
‘I’ll talk to him today. But how will we contact each other? We can’t just rely on bumping into one another?’ She didn’t ask which hut in the Park Belinda was working in, nor did she say that she worked with Simon; and Belinda didn’t ask her. Even for those working at the Park, secrecy was of the essence, and the rules were that no one shared any information with anybody, not even their closest friends.
‘There’ll be notices on the board about the concert group. But where are you billeted? I could leave a message there for you.’
Flo told her, and of her plans to move.
‘I’m in Woburn Abbey. Sounds grand, doesn’t it? But it’s bloody freezing and bloody basic. I wouldn’t mind sharing that flat with you, Flo. Would you consider it?’
‘Aye, I reckon as I could put up with you, but no coming into me bed, mind.’
Belinda laughed out loud, a horsey kind of sound that caused a moment’s hush in the room. This made Flo giggle. It felt good and lifted her spirits. Though they were worlds apart, she loved Belinda, and had felt on first meeting her that she was her equal – something that showed how nice Belinda was. This wasn’t Flo’s experience of toffs in general, as most of them wouldn’t give her the time of day.
When they’d calmed down, Belinda said, ‘Give me the number of the agents letting the flat, Flo. I’ll contact them this afternoon. Better strike quickly, as I should think such places are snatched up. Shall I take it, no matter what it’s like? We can make a home of it soon enough, as my parents will let us have some furniture. They have a lot in storage, as they had to empty a number of rooms when the government seconded half of our home to house officers who were training nearby.’ Belinda puffed out her chest and gave a deep tone to her voice. ‘“Bloody barbaric, taking over people’s homes in this way,” Daddy said, but really you could see that he was proud to play his part.’
‘That’d be grand. Ta, Belinda. I feel reet lifted now.’
‘Yes, so do I, Flo. You’re a great girl, you know. I like you very much.’
Flo couldn’t have been given a better compliment and hugged Belinda again before saying goodbye to her. By, Belinda’s a good ’un. And that’s what I’m finding, now I’m out in the world. There’s good and bad in all folk, no matter what their station in life. Look at Pauline, struggling on her own and yet helping others; and Eunice, striving to better herself after the start she had. Please God, let Eunice’s test results give her some hope. And that Molly, an’ all. I’ve a feeling she was the lass the ARP talked to his wife about, as was forced to . . . Eeh, it doesn’t bear thinking about. Poor lass, I wonder how she is?
These thoughts didn’t dampen the uplifting feeling Belinda had given her, as Flo told herself that Simon was right: she mustn’t take the world on her shoulders, but just do what she could to help. She was determined to do that. She’d have to make sure this concert group didn’t interfere with the time she could give to helping the Sallies with their work.
Looking at the clock as she crossed over to the cloakroom, Flo thought this was another day when Simon was likely to beat her at finishing the crossword, as she’d have to make tracks to Hut 6 soon.
The earlier encounter with Kitty was far from her mind, until Flo passed by her. She stopped in her tracks at Kitty’s scathing tone. ‘What are you up to, eh? Hobnobbing? Well, it won’t get you anywhere.’
‘By, Kitty, you never give up, do you? Get out of me way, please, I don’t want to talk to you.’
‘Ha, don’t you realize that Simon Fulworth, and the set he and that girl you’ve just been talking to mixes with, don’t want you really. You amuse them, that’s all. They make fun of you and how you speak, when you’re not around. You’re different, and they take the rise out of you.’
‘Well, that’s where you’re wrong. You know nowt about them, and never will. Belinda and me are friends. We met in training, and she doesn’t have any side to her. And Simon’s me friend, an’ all. It’s folk like you, Kitty, who don’t have true friends. Nobody can stand your bigoted attitude.’
Kitty went red in the face, before recovering and counter-attacking. ‘You’ll eat those words, you jumped-up cow. We’ll see who’s bigoted when your mate comes in front of a judge – because I’ll make sure he does.’
Kitty stormed off, leaving Flo swallowed up in the fear that Kitty had instilled in her for Simon and Roland. What she had said could come true, and Kitty seemed on a mission to make it so.
The uneasy feeling stayed with Flo throughout the afternoon. There’d been no time to chat with Simon, as the coded messages were coming in thick and fast. Some were straightforward, and these Flo sent to the girls in the office, who would paraphrase them. But others needed Simon’s expertise. With her help, he completed the extremely complicated and intricate work of enciphering a ‘menu’, and produced a ‘crib’ to be fed into the Bombe, a brilliant machine used in code-breaking.
By eight that evening, neither of them had taken a break. Out of the corner of her eye, Flo saw Simon stretch and heard him yawn. ‘Ready for a cuppa, Flo? I’m going boggle-eyed here.’
‘In a moment. I’m nearly there with this one.’
Flo found the work fascinating and never wanted to stop, once she had a hold on the key to whatever she was looking for. At last she’d completed it. Punching the air in exuberance had Simon laughing out loud. ‘Well done, you. Ten minutes behind me, but still good.’
Flo threw a piece of chalk at him. It hit his shoulder and bounced off, pinging off the window before landing in the wastepaper basket.
‘Great shot. Come on: race you to the canteen.’
‘You go. I still have to despatch this. I won’t be long.’
To see Simon sitting on his own in the canteen awoke in Flo the memory of what Kitty had said and, with it, the niggling worry over his safety. Simon was rarely welcomed into the groups of male workers who sat smoking, with a glass of wine or beer, and enjoying some easy banter together. This made Flo think of how lonely his life must have been before she arrived here, and all because of the wicked tongue and malicious ways of Kitty Hamlin.
Flo thought it more than likely that Kitty was responsible for her male colleagues seeming to view herself as a joke too, and that contributed to Simon being thought of as one. Flo didn’t miss their smirks, and often heard their snide remarks to the tune that she and Simon deserved each other. How she wished Belinda was on the same shift, and hoped that eventually she would be. If Belinda saw how the men behaved towards her and Simon, she would soon sort them all out. Belinda had what folk in the North called ‘clout’ – a sort of standing in others’ eyes that commanded respect.
‘Penny for them, Simon. Eeh, you were deep in thought then.’
‘Oh, nothing special. I’ve a few things to mull over.’
This mood usually meant he was thinking of Lucinda. There was nothing she could say to make things easier for him. He had a grieving process to go through, and although she longed to offer him comfort, to hold him to her and soothe his sadness, Flo knew she couldn’t. Focusing his mind on other things was the only strategy open to her. ‘A friend of mine has turned up here, a girl I trained with.’
‘Oh?’
‘By, I expected more interest than that. It ain’t as though I’ve a hoard of friends.’
‘I’m sorry, Flo. I was listening. Who is she?’
‘Belinda Harper. I’ve just found out that she was a friend of Lucinda’s at university.’ Flo could have bitten the words back, as a flash of pain crossed Simon’s face. ‘I – I thought if you talked to her it might help. It can, you know. She could perhaps fill in some memories that you don’t know of.’
‘Did she mention Aldric? Good God, Flo, that’s the last thing we need – someone who knew about that little episode!’
‘Yes. But don’t worry; it weren’t much, just that she remembered Lucinda had a thing with one of the German students. She didn’t go on about it. What she knew of Lucinda’s death was what everyone as reads the papers knows. Someone here, who’d also been at university with Belinda and Lucinda, told her about it. It upset her deeply. I thought we could ask her along when we get round to having that memorial we talked of.’
Simon gave a little cough. It was a habit that Flo had noticed, when he’d been a bit hasty.
‘I’ll get me tea, as I have sommat else to tell you.’ Choosing a thick, meaty stew and home-made bread, Flo glanced over and saw that Simon only had a cup of tea in front of him. She asked the canteen lady if he’d ordered. Finding that he hadn’t, she doubled up on the order. Back at the table, she told him, ‘I’ve mothered you and ordered you some stew. You don’t eat enough to keep a fly alive.’
‘Thanks, Flo. I just couldn’t be bothered.’
More like he doesn’t want to walk past that crowd. Or be in a position where he has to acknowledge them. Without remarking on this, but trying to keep up a conversation, she said, ‘I’ve other news an’ all, Simon, and it’s reet exciting. I might be moving.’ She told him of her plans.
‘Well, thank you very much for asking me. I’d have thought you would have given me first choice.’
‘Eeh, Simon, what’s got into you? You’re acting like a spoilt young ’un. How do you reckon it would look, me and you living together, eh?’
Simon laughed. ‘It would quieten the gossipers.’
‘Ha, more like feed them more to sneer over. Anyroad, I thought you were happy where you were.’
‘I am, up to a point. I’m made welcome, and the people I lodge with are nice and interesting, but it’s not like being independent.’
Flo had thought Simon very lucky to be put in with the local vicar and his family. The Reverend Jones was a really nice man. A lot of the folk of Simon’s and Belinda’s standing had been billeted with families whose standard of living was much lower than they were used to. Flo couldn’t imagine how they coped. But she agreed that, whatever the people who took you in were like, it wasn’t like living on your own, and in your own way. ‘Let’s see what Belinda comes back with. If it’s a two-bedroomed flat, you could come, an’ all. That’d be grand. You’ll like Belinda. And the more of us there are, the more affordable it will be.’
Simon cheered up at this, and Flo hoped with all her heart that the flat was big enough. Having Belinda there would satisfy convention, and it would be grand to have Simon in the same house as herself. They’d proved, when they stayed together at his place in London, that they could live in harmony, despite the undercurrents that surfaced at times. Having Simon living that close to her all the time was probably all she was going to ever have of him.
Brushing these thoughts away, Flo told him about Belinda’s plans for a drama and music society. ‘She asked if you can sing or act. And, if so, would you be interested in joining them? I am.’
‘Crikey, she’s a girl who doesn’t sit on her laurels long, isn’t she? After three days she’s sorted all this out? Good for her, though I hope she isn’t a compulsive organizer who takes over our lives.’
‘No, Belinda’s nothing like that. She just gets on with things.’
‘Good. Well, yes, I’ll join in. Why not – it could be fun. I’m not a great singer, though I can hold a tune. But acting . . . I actually love acting, and really enjoyed the couple of roles I took on at university. I had great acclaim in the local press.’
‘Eeh, that’s grand.’
‘Oh, Flo, I love how you say that. It makes everything seem a lot better than it is.’
‘As Mrs Leary says, “Life is what you make of it. If you’re knocked down, you get up again – it’s the only way.”’
‘Mrs Leary is a wise woman. By the way, Flo, what are you doing when we’re off-duty for a couple of days next week? I thought I would go up and see Roland. Would you like to come?’
‘Naw, but ta for asking. I want to go up to London and help out. I can’t get that Molly out of me head. I’ll call in on Pauline and see if I can help her. She might knaw sommat about Molly, or where she stays.’
‘Ha, I doubt it. London’s not Leeds, you know. You’re funny, Flo. A mile and half in London is like a hundred elsewhere. People don’t even know their next-door neighbours. I should think, at a guess, that Molly lives in and works out of somewhere in the Soho area, and that might as well be Timbuctoo, as far as people who live in my area are concerned.’
‘By, that’d be a place to start, then. If I went there I might find someone as knaws her.’
‘No. I emphatically forbid you to go to that area looking for her.’
This pulled Flo up. ‘You forbid me? Eeh, that’s taking sommat on.’
‘Beg of you, then. As someone who loves you very much, I beg you not to go to that district, Flo. You don’t know Soho; it is notorious.’
The feeling that shot through Flo, at Simon saying this, had to be suppressed even to allow her to breathe. Luckily their stew was delivered to the table at that moment, causing a distraction that allowed Flo to cover how she felt. ‘I won’t go there, I promise. But I will ask them as come to the van. Prostitutes, and the like. Someone must know Molly and could get a message to her. She needs help, and if I can give it, I will.’
‘Yes, Florence.’
They both laughed at this and the mood between them lightened.
As it turned out, the flat did have two bedrooms, and large ones at that. Flo was seeing the inside for the first time and liked what she saw. ‘Eeh, it’s grand, and the station is just down the road, an’ all. That’ll be handy for trips to London.’
‘Yes, and it’s one of the reasons Bletchley Park was chosen for the purpose it has. Proximity to a railway means signals, which need lots of telephone wires. Hooking into them is jolly handy.’
There was a view of the rail track through the window of the room she and Belinda stood in and had earmarked as their bedroom. They’d already discussed the need for a third person to share, to make it viable for them. Flo broached the subject again, now that she’d seen the layout. The second bedroom was separated from this one by a hallway. A bathroom and the kitchen led off this, then at the other end of the flat was a sitting room.
‘How would you feel if I asked Simon to be the third tenant, Belinda? I knaw as you’ve not met him yet, but he’s easy to get on with, and given how this place is, with the bedrooms set apart, we’d still have privacy.’
Belinda liked the idea. ‘A great choice. Three women might just be too many, though I don’t fancy Simon’s chances of bagging the bathroom.’ They giggled at this. ‘And, you know, it won’t help his standing at the park, but I expect he’s thought of that.’
Belinda has heard, then? Not that it seems to bother her, and she’s heard similar before and it hasn’t put her off.
At that moment, a whistle sounded from an approaching train, the noise of it as it rattled by filling the space around them.
‘By, Belinda, we’ll have to get used to that! Though I’ve heard tell that folk who live on a railway embankment soon don’t notice the sounds.’
‘Let’s hope that’s true. What if we were on midnight-to-eight and trying to sleep in the day?’
‘I want to take a chance on it. What about you?’ Flo crossed her fingers as she waited for Belinda to answer.
‘I’m in. Anything has got to be better than Woburn. And if Simon doesn’t like it, I have a friend who might.’
Flo prayed that Simon would like it, as she was unsure what this other friend of Belinda’s might be like.
In the little cafe down the road they talked about furniture and other arrangements. Flo could hardly contain her excitement.
‘That’s all settled, then. We’ll let the landlord know we’ll take it and we’ll pay our deposit on pay-day. Now, Flo, the concert group. Because of our work schedules, we can’t make a set time to meet and rehearse every week, but we’re arranging the first one for Monday evening after the four o’clock shift ends, and all interested parties should attend, if they can. Any chance you can?’
‘Aye, I can make that, as I’m on the night-shift and then on leave, after I come off-shift that morning. I can have a rest, then come in and catch a train to London. I’ll ask Simon to attend, but he might want to get off to Leeds earlier than that.’
‘Right-o. Then we’ve decided that, after each meeting, we’ll sort out which is the best time for the next one, by how many can attend at a specific time. Petulia has a production lined up for us, as she has enough musicians to form a small orchestra.’
‘Ooh, it’s exciting. What’s she got lined up?’
‘The Wizard of Oz. I’ve put you forward to play Dorothy.’
‘What! No, I can’t. I saw that at the flicks. Eeh, I’m too old to play Dorothy.’
‘Well, we all are. But I’ve looked at all those that have volunteered and none looks anything like Dorothy, but you do, with your long hair and perky nose. And you can sing. Please say yes.’ With this, Belinda burst into singing the chorus of ‘Somewhere over the rainbow’.
The few people in the cafe applauded her when she’d finished, and Belinda – being Belinda – bowed to her audience.
Flo thought her sides would burst with laughter. ‘Eeh, you’re a card. A real card.’
Somehow life in Bletchley, and in general, suddenly seemed better. Flo was full of hope. She had the prospect of a nice place to live; she loved her work; she had Belinda and Simon; and now this new interest. By, she never thought she’d be on the stage!
Her thoughts soon prodded her back to her worries, as she cycled back to her billet. How could she possibly keep Simon safe? And what about Eunice and Molly? If only she could make things right for them all. Because, no matter how much she told herself that she mustn’t take everyone’s plight on her own shoulders, she couldn’t stop herself. As soon as she could, on Tuesday morning, she’d get in touch with Eunice and see if she had her results and what they were. What she would do if they were bad, she didn’t know. After that she’d find Pauline and sort out working on the van with her, and she could only hope that somehow she would get in contact with Molly. Getting Molly off her mind was proving difficult, and she knew she had to try and help her somehow. Though God knew what she could do.