Flo
Trying to Grasp Reality
Her bike ride to Bletchley the first morning after her rest days exhilarated Flo. She’d managed to change her shift pattern from the night-shift to the 8 a.m. till 4 p.m., the one she liked most.
A hunting owl, fooled by the darkness into thinking it was still night-time, hooted from his hideout in the tree, no doubt thinking her a competitor. The eerie sound in the stillness around her increased the feeling deep inside her that all wasn’t well. Why didn’t Simon ring at all over the two-day break? He promised he would.
Although she’d been really busy, she’d missed him so much. The two days had been good, and she’d wanted to share that with Simon. Twice she’d got as far as lifting the receiver and starting to dial Roland’s number, but had stopped herself. She had to get used to being apart from Simon. He’d made his choice, she was sure of it, and she had to allow him that, just as she said she would. But although she’d told herself this over and over again, she’d still wanted to hear his voice and let him know what was happening. That Molly was safe; that Pauline was well and had taken Molly in; and that the afternoon working on the van had been fun. But deep inside, she knew, she’d wanted more. Maybe to hear him say that he’d missed her, or that he had chosen her . . . Stop it, Flo. How was she to get better from this state of being in love? Simon was constantly on her mind. She couldn’t wait to see him.
The thought of doing so enhanced the enjoyment of her journey. Pedalling faster, she marvelled at how her bicycle-light lit the lightly snow-covered ground, turning it into a diamond-encrusted carpet.
Today was going to be exciting, for more reasons than simply seeing Simon again. Belinda had left a hand-delivered letter for Flo at her billet, in which she’d said she would remain on the eight-till-four shift a while longer and would be at Bletchley Park at the same time as Flo this week. Flo had heard that this new system was under discussion and was glad it had been put into action.
The note asked if Flo and Simon, who were always on the same shift as each other, would like to meet her after work at the new flat. We need to finalize things, Flo, Belinda had written, and had gone on to ask if she and Simon could bring their share of the first month’s rent. Flo had hers tucked safely into her bra, along with enough to cover Simon’s, as she thought he was unlikely to be able to get to his bank in time.
Keeping her excess money somewhere safe had been a concern to her. She really needed to ask Simon to help her to open a bank account, as she hadn’t a clue how to do so, or even if folk such as her were considered good enough to have one.
The last thing Belinda had asked for was whether they had any connections to anyone who had a van or a trailer, as that would be handy, too. Flo hadn’t, at least not down in this neck of the woods. She had plenty of folk to call on in Leeds, but it was too far for them to travel. She hoped Simon might be able to help out with that problem.
Belinda had said they would need a trailer, as she’d asked her parents about letting her have some of their surplus furniture, and they had invited all three of them down to their home to choose what they wanted. Though they had stipulated that they themselves had to arrange transport for whatever they took. Belinda’s note had ended, I’ll explain when I see you. And was signed: Belinda x.
Just thinking of how her life was going to change spurred Flo on.
Pedalling through the wrought-iron gates, she was surprised to be stopped by the guard. ‘Sorry, Miss, but I have a message for you. You’re to report to General Pradstow.’
Her heart dropped. She had a feeling that this summons had something to do with Simon. No one was ever called to the general’s office unless they were in deep trouble or he had received bad news for them. Oh God, don’t let anything have happened to Simon. Please . . . Please!
She knew something had happened, the moment she entered the general’s office. Belinda sat in a chair in front of his desk and turned her head towards Flo. Her expression told her something Flo didn’t want to hear. Without taking any notice of protocol, Flo blurted out, ‘No! Not Simon? Please tell me it ain’t Simon, Belinda?’
Belinda stood and came towards her. Part of Flo wanted to knock her away, as accepting her would mean accepting what she was going to say; and she didn’t want to, so she stood still. Her body stiffened, and an invisible shield formed a barrier around her heart. Whatever Belinda said, it wouldn’t hurt her – she wouldn’t let it.
Belinda must have known that an attempt to hold and hug her wouldn’t work, as she stopped her progress and stood within arm’s distance. ‘Flo, I’m sorry. I – I . . . It’s Simon. He’s been killed.’
Flo took in a deep breath that she never thought she would release again. When she did, questions came with it. ‘What? How? Why?’
‘I – I’m afraid it’s a sorry story, love. Come and sit down.’
Flo looked from Belinda to the general. He hadn’t spoken, other than to ask her into his office, but now he nodded. His face had a haggard expression, his countenance one of someone calling upon his inner self-control. And yet he was leaving everything to Belinda.
‘Naw, Belinda. Naw! It ain’t true, it ain’t – not Simon!’
Belinda just looked at her and nodded. Something about the command she had over the situation, and the empathy she showed, made Flo do as she said and sit down.
‘It is true, Flo. What I have to tell you is a very sad reflection on our society.’ The general coughed. Belinda looked over at him, her look defiant.
Obviously the general doesn’t agree with Belinda’s thinking. ‘It was to do with him being homosexual then, Belinda?’
Flo listened in horror as Belinda told her exactly what had happened. Shock held her in a vice-like grip. She couldn’t react. She wanted to scream and scream, but all she could do was stare. But as the truth dawned on her, she pulled herself up. ‘This will all be Kitty Hamlin’s doing. She told me only the other day that she was going to get Simon put in prison.’
‘But surely she wouldn’t actually do anything about her threats. I mean, how?’ Belinda asked.
Though her voice shook, Flo stated her reasons. ‘She followed Simon to London once and turned up in the same pub where we were having a drink. Simon felt intimidated. You see, not only did she hate what Simon was, but she wanted to destroy him, because he knew she’s having an affair with a married officer, John Perry. Simon caught them having sexual relations around the back of one of the huts. He didn’t report them, but he was beaten up for mentioning it.’ Unable to understand how calm she felt, Flo told the general just what had taken place, as Simon had reported it to her and Roland.
The general didn’t react. She shouldn’t have expected him to. Whether he had a mind to do anything or not, he wouldn’t share his thoughts with her, or even appear to believe her. But that didn’t stop her raising her voice to him, as the frustration of it all made her want to hit out at somebody. ‘You have to do something, sir. Kitty has caused the death of two people with her spite. And – and is responsible for another good man going to prison.’ Flo knew she was screeching, but couldn’t stop herself. ‘Please, General – sir, please.’
‘Wren Harper, please fetch the doctor in.’
‘I don’t need the doctor. I – I . . . Oh, Simon.’ Flo could contain her grief no longer. A deluge of sobbing seized her body and rendered her like a rag doll. She slumped onto her arms on the general’s desk.
‘Wren Kilgallon, I’m so sorry. I thought a lot of Officer Fulworth. I knew his family a long time ago. This is going to be devastating for his mother, who, as you know, has only recently lost her only daughter. How she is going to come to terms with the circumstances around her son’s death, I do not know. I will write to his parents, of course, but I wonder if you will consider doing so, too? Wren Harper tells me you were also a friend of Simon’s sister, so I know this is a double-blow for you, as well. But, as such, you will have so much to tell their parents that would be a comfort to them, whereas I can only relate the sordid facts.’
‘They weren’t sordid, sir. At least, Simon’s love for Roland wasn’t. Theirs was a good love. A loyal love, and a strong, binding love. Simon was dedicated to his work here an’ all, and gifted in finding the right menus and cribs for the Bombe. He was kind and thoughtful, if extremely lonely, due to his treatment here. He deserves that you think more of this part of his life, and concentrate on his good points, as you would any other officer; and don’t pay as much attention to your own bigoted ideas about his private life. Aye, and Roland deserves some consideration an’ all, as you’d give naturally to a widow or widower. A small letter of condolence wouldn’t go amiss, but I doubt it will ever be sent!’
‘Wren Kilgallon. I must ask you to rein in your tirade of abuse. I understand how you feel, but it does not give you the right to speak to your commanding officer in the way you are doing. Please consider your own position. I would very much regret having to put you on a charge, but mark my words, any more of this and I will.’
Flo couldn’t apologize. Nothing mattered to her any longer. Her world had collapsed at her feet.
‘As you say, Wren Kilgallon, Fulworth was gifted, but so are you. A lot of vital information may be lost, if you cannot carry on. You know how much the war effort depends on us here. The other code-breakers are stretched as far as they can be. You know this without me telling you. To have two down would be a disaster. Already, with both of you having a break this week, there is a backlog. Somewhere amongst it may be information that will save us losing one of our ships and all the men aboard her, or will give advance warning of an attack, so that our army generals can work at a counter-attack.’
‘I know, sir. I don’t intend to have time off. Simon wouldn’t want that of me, and I couldn’t cope – I need to work. But, I can’t do so with that Kitty—’
‘Don’t say any more. I will deal with that subject. As soon as I can, I will get you a new partner to work with. I’ll ask some of the boffins if they know of anyone. If not, we’ll have to approach Oxford or Cambridge for their bright stars – or have them directed.’
Flo was shocked to hear the general discuss these things with her, but supposed his strategy was to take her mind off everything that was happening and focus it elsewhere. She’d used the same tactics with Simon, to help him with his grief over Lucinda. Well, darling Simon, now you are with Lucinda. At least, I hope you are. There’d be no justice in God if he didn’t arrange that, as I can’t bear to think of you carrying on being lonely. Oh, Simon . . . Simon.
A knock on the door saw the doctor entering with Belinda.
‘I’m all right, ta, Doctor. I’ve work to do. I’ve to carry on, for Simon’s sake. I’ll get over to me office now, sir.’ This last she directed at the general and managed a smart salute.
‘No, not straight away, Flo. Go with Wren Harper and have a hot drink, and take the tablets with you that the doctor has brought for you. You can always fall back on them if you need them.’
‘Thank you, sir.’ Wanting to escape, Flo saluted again, turned smartly and marched towards the doctor.
He gave her a strip of tablets. ‘Take one at a time, and allow four hours in between. Only take them when you can rest afterwards. And don’t hesitate to get in touch with me if you feel ill in any way. Shock can cause many things to happen to you.’
‘Thank you, Doctor.’
Not trusting herself to do any different, Flo walked through the door and along the corridor, her head held high, her walk precise, as if she was on parade.
‘Hey, slow down, love. Flo?’
‘Sorry, Belinda, I daren’t. I’ve to get to the canteen, then I knaw as I’ll be reet.’
Belinda didn’t try to persuade her again, but fell into step with Flo. When they reached the canteen, it was mercifully empty. Flo slumped into a chair. Everything about herself felt unreal. Everything she’d been told and had done seemed to have no meaning. By, did I really shout at the general?
‘Flo? Look, I’ll get you a cup of strong tea. Though I doubt there’s any sugar again – goodness knows where it goes; it certainly isn’t rationed amongst us all.’
‘I don’t need sugar. A saccharine will do.’ When Belinda came back to the table, Flo blurted out, ‘I can’t go back to me billet, Belinda, not tonight – I can’t. Oh, Belinda, what will I do?’
‘We’ll stay at the flat. The shop up the road will still be open when we leave here. The landlord’s agent is meeting us at five. Once we’ve paid a month’s rent, the place is ours. Have you brought some money with you, Flo?’
‘Aye, I brought two-thirds of it, as I thought as Simon . . . he might not have the cash on him. I were going to lend it to him.’
‘That’s top-hole, well done, my dear. Now we’ll have the full rent. I’ll get us some supplies, as I brought extra money for that. I was planning that we might cook our dinner and eat it on our knees, whilst sitting on the floor. A good icebreaker between me and . . . well, anyway—’
‘Don’t do that, Belinda. Don’t not talk of Simon, I couldn’t bear it. You’re me only friend here now, and I have to be able to talk to you about him or I’ll go mad.’
‘Right. Just as you want it. I’m a good listener, Flo. And if it helps to talk, I won’t mind.’
‘Ta, Belinda.’ Flo marvelled at how she could make these arrangements with Belinda, and at how calm she felt. Not calm – detached. That was it; none of it had really touched her yet. Not even Roland’s plight. She couldn’t give her mind to him. There was too much to take in.
‘Our only problem is: how are we going to sleep? We’ll have warmth, as we have electrics and there’s an electric fire, and then the oven and cooker rings – we can turn the whole blooming lot on. And there are blackout curtains up already. But that’s it.’
Flo couldn’t think of a solution. Her mind was a blank.
‘Leave it to me. It may not be the most comfortable night we’ve ever had, but it has to be better than not being together. I’d never sleep, thinking of you alone in your room at that house you’re billeted in. Only thing is: we do need to let them know not to expect you.’
‘I’ll cycle back there as soon as the agent has left. Mabel, the woman of the house, knaws that I’m planning to leave, and she don’t blame me. I’ll fetch some of me things back. Me pyjamas and me toothbrush, that sort of thing. I’ll tie them to me handlebars in a bundle. It’s best that I go – I owe her that much – rather than just leaving, as this is me leaving, Belinda. I knaw I can’t ever go back there, except for the rest of me things. I couldn’t deal with owt stuck up in that bedroom. And that’s what happens, more often than not.’
‘Oh, Flo, it must have been lonely and very difficult, but it’s one thing that will change for the better today, for you. I’ll do the same. Petulia brought me in in her car this morning; she’s billeted at Woburn Abbey with me. I’ll beg her to wait until I’ve seen the landlord, then to take me back. I’ll do my best to sneak out a couple of blankets, as well as some night-things and toiletries. Ooh, it’s going to be a real adventure, Flo.’
‘I hope so, Belinda. I hope I don’t dampen it for you, because at the moment I just need to curl up somewhere private and cry me eyes out.’
‘Well, you can do that, love. You can do as much of that as you need to. I know how you felt about Simon and Lucinda, and I know you must be worried sick about your friend Roland. You have a lot on your plate, and I really admire how you’re determined to carry on. Talk about “Your Country Needs You”, as Kitchener spouted in the last war. Our country doesn’t even know they have us, and probably never will.’
They sat silently for a moment. Flo’s limbs had stopped shaking. She couldn’t drink much of the tea, but was grateful for the respite she’d had. Standing up, she excused herself and made her way to Hut 6. Every step held the dread that Kitty would be there, sneering more than usual. Even if it was never proved, no one would ever convince Flo otherwise than that Kitty and her lover-boy were responsible for what had happened to Simon.
The door opened silently, and yet the babble of noise, which was usual for the hut, ceased as if someone had switched off every machine and shushed all the women. Flo took a deep breath and walked through, towards her office. Jane Downing stood as Flo approached her desk. ‘Flo, we want you to know that we’re very sorry. Devastated, in fact. The general sent round a communication about ten minutes ago. He told us that Simon was murdered. How? Oh, Flo, were you with him?’
‘Naw, Jane, I weren’t. I wish I had been, but we went our separate ways this time. Simon visited a mutual friend of ours, and I went to London. So I knaw as much as you all do. I’m devastated an’ all, but we have to carry on; it is what Simon would want us to do, and it’s what our country expects. Ta, though, for saying sommat. It helps.’ As she finished talking, Flo found the courage to look around at Kitty’s desk. It stood empty.
‘She was marched out at the same time as the communication arrived. Is she involved, Flo?’
‘It wouldn’t surprise me, but we’ll never knaw. I’m glad she’s gone; I couldn’t have worked with her being here. She had it in for Simon, as you all knaw. But he felt safe with the rest of you. I thank you all for that. Now, the best thing we can do is get our heads down and turn out the best day we’ve ever had. We have to help to win the war.’
Turning from Jane, Flo felt herself gaining in strength by the minute. Every time she thought of what Simon would want of her and she carried it through, she felt a little bit better. A sound surprised her. It began very slowly, then increased as more joined in. The women were clapping her. These women – who’d hardly given her the time of day and hadn’t included her in anything, or made any effort even to greet her sometimes – were clapping her. She turned and smiled at them, bowed her head towards them, then went into her office and closed the door.
Leaning against it, she let out a huge sigh, took a deep breath and blew it out in an exaggerated fashion. Somehow she had to stop the flow of tears; if she didn’t, she would open the floodgates for all the tears tied in a knot in her chest to be released, and she couldn’t do that yet. Not here.
Simon’s desk stood like a lonely monument to him, his pen still where he’d thrown it down, in his glee that at last the time had come for him to leave the office and make for the station. Going over to his desk, Flo picked up the pen. From now on, she would use it. And she would sit in his chair. Little things, but they would bring him closer to her. Not that he would ever leave her. He was bound into the very fibre of her, and always would be.
By the time Flo had ridden back to the flat, she felt exhausted. Parking her bike, she noticed a car outside that she’d seen many times recently. Petulia must still be here. Blast, I’m not up to meeting anyone. She rubbed the base of her neck; the tension there jarred through her body. Her legs felt like jelly. Sitting on the step for a moment, she watched a cat crawl under Petulia’s car. That’s what she’d like to do: crawl under something where no one could see her and curl up in a ball. She wasn’t sure she could cry. She felt empty of tears, but wanted just to be alone and to think everything through. Try to make it all a reality, then she might be able to deal with it.
The door at the top of the steps opened. ‘Flo, how long have you been there – you’ll freeze to death! Come up.’
Flo stood and looked upwards, and the light from the open door dazzled her for a moment. ‘I were just resting a mo. It was some bike ride, with me bundle on me handlebars, it took it out of me.’
Belinda didn’t protest. Instead she stepped aside and beckoned Flo up. The door led into their kitchen, a small but functional room with all the utilities along one wall and a small wooden table at the other. Flo could see that Belinda had been shopping, as there were a few items on the work surface: a bag of potatoes and a couple of sausages were dwarfed by a huge winter cabbage. Other than that, there was some salt and a loaf of bread. No butter, and only a very small bottle of milk – one-third of a pint, Flo would guess. She’d only ever seen this size of bottle down here in the south, but it did seem to be an area of people living on their own, especially in London.
Flo went through to the front room. A young woman sat cross-legged on the floor.
‘Hello, I’m Petulia – Pet for short. I won’t stay long, but I just wanted to wait for you to tell you how sorry I am about what has happened. I knew Lucinda, and met Simon once when he came to the university to see her. He was jolly nice, and very handsome. It’s all tragic, and I can’t imagine how you’re feeling. If I can do anything at all, you only have to send a message through Belinda for me.’
‘Ta. That’s kind of you.’ Suddenly Flo felt tongue-tied and unsure what to do next. Everyone she met at Bletchley had so much confidence and spoke with such a posh accent, it intimidated her. Pet was a pretty girl with a mound of curly fair hair and big brown eyes. When she smiled, her cheeks dimpled.
‘Look, I’ll go. We can meet up and get to know one another some other time. Belinda told me you’re interested in joining my group. I’d love that. We’ll be holding auditions for Dorothy soon. I hope you feel up to coming – that would be spiffing.’
Flo nodded. She so wanted to be nice to Pet. She liked her; Pet didn’t look like Lucinda, but her manner reminded Flo of her.
Pet stood and walked towards Flo. Flo wanted to run. She couldn’t understand this feeling of wanting to be as far as possible inside her own body and not have anyone touch her. But touch her Pet did. As if on impulse, she held Flo and kissed her cheek. And then was gone. The gesture embarrassed Flo, but at the same time made her think she was right to like Pet and knew they would become friends.
When Belinda came back in, she laughed off the incident. ‘Don’t mind Pet, she’s an arty-farty type – they kiss everybody.’
A giggle bubbled up in Flo.
Belinda joined her, although hers was a nervous giggle. She covered it up by being her usual matter-of-fact self. ‘Well, Flo, we’re here! Let’s get down to work. Can you cook? I didn’t think, when I said about making a meal. I haven’t got a blooming idea how to boil an egg, let alone anything else.’
This made Flo giggle even more. The giggle turned to a laugh, a real belly-aching laugh that she couldn’t control. Her already-weak legs became weaker. Her voice echoed around the empty room.
‘Flo – Flo, stop it. Flo, what’s got into you? Flo!’
These words seemed to be coming down a long tunnel. She was hurting now, real physical pain from the stretching of her throat and her stomach muscles, but there was a hurt far greater than that and it threatened to swallow her up.
A sharp sting on her cheek shocked Flo into silence and she stared back at Belinda.
‘I’m sorry, love, but you were hysterical. I had to do that.’
Flo tried to say it was all right, but no words would form, only sobs. Huge, screaming sobs. Her body gave way under the weight of them and she sank to the floor.
Belinda wrapped her in a blanket and held her. But no one could hold her world together, or put it back the way it was.
Roland came to her mind. And for the first time since hearing the news, she cried for him, too. What he must be going through, she couldn’t imagine. The thought helped her pain a little, as she knew that no matter how much she was hurting, Roland would be going through twice as much. Lonely, fearful and grieving beyond endurance. She calmed enough to be able to sit up. Belinda handed her a towel.
‘I’ve a big kettle of water on, love. Why not go and have a wash and put your pyjamas on, eh? You could do with a soak in the bath, but I don’t know what the chances are of me filling that boiler, let alone setting a fire under it.’
‘I’ll be all right with a wash. Ta ever so much for your kindness, Belinda.’ The reflex sobs made it difficult for Flo to speak, but she managed to say, ‘I like your friend. She’s nice.’
‘Come on – don’t start me off again about Pet. I don’t want to make you laugh, but when you feel more able, I have some funny stories about her. She’s lovely, but a minx. She can get you into trouble with her pranks.’
Flo didn’t really want to have a conversation. She didn’t know what she wanted, except to have things back the way they were. Now she was consumed with worry and quizzed Belinda frantically. She needed to know where Simon’s body was and who would see to the arrangements – would that person contact her?
‘I’m not sure, in the case of someone being murdered. But it won’t be possible, I should imagine, for his parents to get over from India – no waters are safe enough to travel that distance. Leave it with me. I’ll speak to General Pradstow and see what he will do for us. And I’ll ring my father’s solicitor tomorrow and see if he can help, with information about what will happen to Simon’s friend; he is a brilliant solicitor and I’m sure he can find out if Simon’s family has a solicitor, and can liaise with him. Don’t worry; we’ll do our best to make sure everything is sorted out and that you are kept informed. But, Flo, try to prepare yourself for the fact that Simon’s friend may go to prison. I’m sorry, and I wish it was different, but the way the story was told to the general and he told me, it looks bad for him.’
‘Which is all the more reason why I must try to cope with it all. Roland’s going to need me. I knaw he has a lot of friends and is well regarded, but how many of them will come to his defence or his aid, when they hear what he was arrested for? Not many, I should think. I have to be able to contact him somehow. Could you ask your solicitor if he would get a message to Roland for me?’
‘I will. As long as this way of coping is going to make you fit to cook some dinner for us – I’m starving!’ Belinda smiled and hugged Flo as she said this. Flo didn’t reject her.
The crying had released her from the barrier that had made it feel as though she was encased in a cocoon of ice. She’d been afraid of it melting and exposing her to a hurt she couldn’t let in, but the ice had gone now, and Flo could feel the reality of it all and knew she had to call on all her courage to get through. She was needed at Bletchley, where her expertise could help the war effort; she was needed by Molly; and she would be needed by Roland. She had to be strong for all of them. Simon would expect nothing less of her. And she would give nothing less.