Ena took Freda’s hand in hers. ‘Where is Walter?’
Freda’s eyes lit up at the sound of her brother’s name. But all too soon a dark shadow crept across her face and her eyes dulled. ‘Somewhere in France. He’s in the Army.’
‘My brother Tom’s in France too. He came home after Dunkirk, but he hasn’t been home since.’ Ena felt a lump in her throat. ‘We haven’t heard from him either. I suppose no news is good news?’ She knew she hadn’t sounded convincing and squeezed Freda’s hand.
The two friends sat in silence, each nursing their own fears and worries. It was Ena who spoke first. ‘You said you were tired earlier. So why don’t you ask Mr Silcott if you can take a few days off? Go and see your uncle. You could make a long weekend of it. And you never know, he might have had news of your brother by then.’
‘I don’t know. With Silcott’s having to take on some of Williams Engineering’s work, I’ll be too busy.’ Ena could see from her friend’s thoughtful expression that she was considering it. Freda wiped her tears. ‘Whether I can get the time off or not, I shall telephone my uncle tomorrow.’
When the taxi dropped them off outside the factory, Ena offered to pay half the fare, but Freda wouldn’t take her money. ‘It’s my way of saying thank you for listening to me tonight. I’ve never told anyone about that time in my life. I suppose it’s because I have never felt close enough to anyone to confide in them, until now.’ Ena bit her lip and swallowed her emotions. ‘Besides, what’s left of Mr Silcott’s emergency fund will cover it.’
Arm in arm, the unpleasantness in the Station Hotel at Bletchley forgotten, Ena and Freda collected their bicycles. Pushing them across the car park towards the factory gates, Freda said, ‘Wuthering Heights is on at the Granada. Fancy seeing it tomorrow?’
‘Not half. I think Laurence Olivier is so handsome,’ Ena crooned.
‘When we’ve been to the Silcotts, we’ll catch the bus into Rugby.’
Arranging to meet for a cup of tea, before taking the work order to Mr Silcott at his home, Ena and Freda pedalled off together, going their separate ways at the junction of Leicester Road and Market Street.
When Ena got home, her sister Bess was there. ‘Any news about Coventry?’ Ena asked, looking from Bess to her father.
‘The BBC gave the names of the city’s worst hit areas and thankfully the suburb where Bill’s parents live wasn’t one of them,’ their father said.
‘Thank goodness for that,’ Ena said. ‘Even so, Bill and Margaret must be worried to death. Have you heard from either of them?’
‘Bill rang the Hall this morning,’ Bess said, ‘asked if we’d heard anything. His mam and dad don’t have a telephone, so he couldn’t get in touch with them.’
‘And with him working for the Ministry of Defence, he can’t get time off to come up, so Laura, one of the land girls, drove me over to see what was going on. She dropped me off and went up to the Hall to telephone Margaret at the theatre. Bill’s on the road, but he’s picking up Margaret after work. He’ll be relieved to know they’re all right,’ their father said.
‘And they are?’ Ena asked.
‘Yes, considering. Bill’s father’s faring better than his mother. She’s very tearful, but after her ordeal it’s only to be expected. She put on a brave face and made us welcome. They were lucky,’ Thomas lit a cigarette. ‘They got to the Anderson shelter as soon as they heard the planes, and stayed there for the rest of the night. The worst they suffered was being cold.’
Ena shuddered, remembering the orange and red sky of the night before. ‘What about the house?’
‘Cracked windows, some slates off the roof. We boarded up the windows and Laura got on the roof. She repaired it in no time. Did a good job, too. They’ll need to get a roofer eventually, but it’s safe for now.’
‘I wish I could have gone with Laura and Dad,’ Ena said, walking Bess to the door.
‘I think you have enough to do at the factory,’ her sister said. Ena exhaled loudly. ‘As bad as that is it?’
‘Worse. There’s a lot of damage. But,’ Ena said, opening the door, ‘it’s only bricks and mortar. No one was hurt, thank goodness.’
Ena kissed her sister goodbye, watched her open the door of Lady Foxden’s black Rover motorcar and drop onto the driving seat. She waved until Bess turned off the lane to drive up to the Hall. Before going inside, Ena looked up at the moon. A big round yellow orb, mottled like a marble, in a sky that was so clear, she could see every star. It’ll be cold tomorrow, she thought. There may even be a frost.
CHAPTER FIVE
Ena set out for Lowarth early. She was meeting Freda before going to Mr Silcott’s house, and wanted to drop her bicycle off at Bradshaw’s Cycles in Market Street first. Leaning the bike against the shop’s window, she ran inside to ask if her brakes could be repaired.
Mr Bradshaw lumbered out of the shop. He pushed the bike along the pavement for a few yards before pulling on the brakes – and let out a raucous laugh. ‘There’s nothing to repair,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Look here.’ He lifted the front wheel. ‘Worn down to the metal. Goodness knows how you haven’t gone over the handlebars before now, Ena Dudley.’
Ena looked suitably aghast and scrunched up her shoulders. ‘I didn’t realise.’
‘Come back at two.’ Lifting the bike as if it were a toy, he returned to the shop.
‘Not sure I’ll be back by then,’ Ena said, following
