There was a knock on the door. ‘Captain Mitchell,’ the FO’s secretary said. She stood back to let the new arrival enter, saluted and left.
The FO stood up to greet the captain, who was dressed in civvies. She shook his hand. ‘You know Colonel Smith?’ The colonel stood up and also shook the captain’s hand. ‘And this is Aircraftwoman First Class Dudley.’
Claire turned to the captain and her knees turned to jelly. ‘Sir!’ she said, saluting the bad-tempered Canadian who, only a few days ago, had told her if she knew what was good for her she would stay out of his way.
‘ACW First Class!’ he said, returning the salute before giving Claire a disapproving look and sitting down in a chair next to the FO.
Claire kept her eyes front. This was meant to be the best day of her career. It was rapidly turning into the worst day of her life.
‘Captain Mitchell is with the Royal Canadian Air Force,’ the FO informed Claire, as if Claire didn’t know. ‘Colonel Smith is from the Special Operations Executive, which is why I called you in. Colonel Smith, if you’d like to take it from here?’
‘Please sit, Miss Dudley,’ the Colonel said. Claire looked at the FO. She nodded.
‘Thank you, sir.’ Avoiding the Canadian captain’s gaze, she sat on the chair in front of the FO’s desk.
‘You have an exemplary record, Miss Dudley,’ the Colonel said. Claire heard the Canadian captain clear his throat. She stiffened slightly, but tried to ignore him and concentrate on what the colonel was saying. It wasn’t easy. ‘Fluent in French and proficient in German. And I see you have been trained in armed combat. Is that usual?’ he asked, directing the question to Claire’s senior officer.
‘No, Colonel, but when Aircraftwoman Dudley and another French-speaking WAAF expressed a wish to work with the RAF in France, they were sent for training.’
‘It’s all helpful. One never knows when armed combat will be necessary.’ Colonel Smith turned to Claire. ‘With your knowledge of the French culture and way of life, being fluent in the language, as well as speaking and understanding German, you would be an asset to the Special Operations Executive, Miss Dudley.’ Claire felt her pulse quicken. ‘I should like you to consider leaving the WAAF for a period of time to work with us.’ He leaned forward and picked up a folder. ‘I recruit operatives for the French Office. We will eventually be conducting espionage, sabotage and reconnaissance in occupied Europe, as well as assisting the local Resistance movements.’ Claire’s heart leapt with excitement. ‘What we need at this stage, however, are young women who are willing to go into the occupied zones and report back on German troop movements. It’s dangerous work. There is no guarantee you’ll return in one piece, if at all. I know that sounds harsh – and it is – but I want you to understand the risk you’ll be taking if you accept the post.’ The colonel paused, leaned forward and looked firmly into Claire’s eyes. He’s hoping to unnerve me, she thought, but that isn’t going to happen. She held her reserve, determined that she would not show the slightest sign of fear or doubt. ‘You must be absolutely certain that the kind of work we do at the SOE is for you.’
‘Sir!’ Claire gave a firm nod that she understood.
Colonel Smith’s face relaxed. ‘This is for your eyes only,’ he said, handing Claire a file. ‘Is that clear?’
‘Yes sir.’
‘The work we do is top secret. If you join the SOE you cannot tell anyone. If you are given an assignment you must not tell anyone what it is, or where you’re going to carry it out. As far as friends and family are concerned, you are here at Coltishall. Do you understand?’
‘Yes sir.’
‘Everything you need to know about the SOE and the Secret Service Act is in there. Read it thoroughly and let Flight Officer Manders know your decision.’
‘Thank you, colonel,’ the FO said. ‘Do you have anything to add, Captain Mitchell? The Canadian shook his head. ‘Then that is all, ACW Dudley. Dismissed.’
Claire stood, saluted her superior officer, and turned towards the door. On her way out she glanced at the Canadian captain. He nodded. Relieved that he hadn’t taken the affray in the mess hall further, she left the room.
Clutching the buff folder, she marched along the corridor to the main exit. Once outside, she leant against the wall and inhaled until her lungs were full to capacity. Then, exhaling slowly, she walked across the square to her billet.
CHAPTER FOUR
Claire ran upstairs to the bedroom she shared with Eddie and slid the folder between the thin mattress and wooden base of her bed.
‘Still in one piece then?’ Eddie called from the bathroom. ‘Did the Canuck beefcake shop you?’
Claire crossed the room and stood in the doorway. ‘No, it was nothing to do with him,’ she said. So why was he there, she wondered? Thinking about it, neither the FO nor the colonel had said anything about his part in the SOE – if indeed he played a part at all. Strange, that.
‘What did Minty Manders want then?’ Eddie asked, leaving the bathroom and walking past Claire, who was deep in thought. She followed Eddie into their bedroom. ‘Must have been bad, you’re frowning.’
‘I was just thinking.’ Claire needed to tell Eddie something; if she didn’t, her friend would keep asking. Besides, Eddie might well be considered for the same work. Then she had a flash of inspiration.
