Satisfied that her face was at last clean, she patted it dry before putting on powder – she didn’t need rouge. She took her mascara from her handbag, spat on it, and after rubbing the small brush across the black block, she applied it in sweeping movements to her top and lower eyelashes. Her eyes still looked puffy, but there was nothing she could do about that. She put on her lipstick and combed her hair.
Dropping her makeup into her handbag, Ena slipped into the queue and waited for a toilet to become vacant. When it did, she made for the door.
‘There’s a queue, you know!’ A barrel of a woman in a fur coat and Cossack-style hat spat.
‘Sorry, I thought as I have been waiting for some time--’
‘But you haven’t been waiting, have you?’ The old barrel said, ‘You’ve been putting your slap on.’ With that, the woman barged past Ena, almost knocking her over. The woman squeezed her huge frame into the narrow cubicle and slammed the door.
Ena felt tears of anger pricking at the back of her eyes. She gave the woman next in the queue a friendly smile, but she looked past Ena and shuffled forwards, filling the gap left by the furred barrel. Forcing the tears not to fall, so she didn’t have to redo her makeup, Ena stormed out.
‘Stupid woman,’ she said aloud. She hadn’t been so clever either, Ena thought. After two cups of tea, she was desperate for the toilet. Now she would have to wait until she got to the mansion.
Walking to Bletchley Park, Ena’s mind wandered to when she was drinking tea with Ben, and she wondered if she would see him again. So, he worked at the MoD in London. Her steps faltered and she caught her breath. Her brother-in-law Bill also worked at the MoD. Ena wondered if he knew Ben. It was a big place; the chances of them knowing each other were slim. Even so, she might mention Ben the next time she wrote to her sister Margaret.
Forcing herself to smile, Ena approached Bletchley Park’s security gate. She handed the guard her identity papers and pass. ‘I’m here to see Commander Dalton. I believe my boss Mr Silcott is already here.’ The guard checked the documents, and nodded her through. The walk along the footpath to the mansion was short, but Ena was so desperate to go to the toilet, it seemed like a mile. The nearer she got, the more nervous she was, making the need even greater.
At the door, Ena took several calming breaths. No good shilly-shallying; she would tell Mr Silcott exactly what had happened, or as much as she could remember, making sure he understood that the theft of her work was not her fault. She had no idea how it had happened, but she did not just fall asleep…
She walked briskly to the reception desk. ‘I’d like to see Commander Dalton, please.’
‘Certainly, miss,’ the officer said. ‘If you’d like to sign in, I’ll take you to his office. I’m going that way.’
‘Thank you.’ Her legs felt like jelly and her hands were sweating. She wrote her name in the visitor’s book and followed the man along the labyrinth of passageways to the commander’s office.
The door stood ajar. When she entered, it closed behind her with a bang, making her jump. As much as she was dreading it, the sooner she told Mr Silcott and the commander what had happened on the train the better.
CHAPTER NINE
‘Come in, Miss Dudley. Take a seat.’ Commander Dalton pushed himself out of his chair to a half-standing position, sitting down again when Ena did. Mr Silcott wasn’t in the room. ‘Now,’ the commander said, ‘what can I do for you?’
Ena’s hands trembled. She put them on her lap. ‘It’s about my work,’ she said, clenching her fists.
‘On time as usual, Miss Dudley.’ Ena’s mouth fell open. ‘Already taken through to the engineers.’ He looked at his watch. ‘They should be fitting it about now.’
Ena stared at the commander for some seconds. Eventually she found her voice. ‘How did it get here?’
‘Herbert Silcott, of course, a couple of hours ago.’
‘Thank God! I need to speak to him,’ Ena said, jumping up. ‘Where is he?’
‘He left after signing the work in, I think. Weren’t you with him?’
‘No. Did you see him?’
‘What is all this?’
‘Did you see Herbert Silcott sign the work in?’ Ena persisted.
‘No. I was in a meeting for most of the morning. By the time it finished, Herbert had left.’ Ena put her hands up to her mouth to stop herself from crying out. ‘Miss Dudley, it wasn’t necessary for me to see Herbert. His credentials were in order, he delivered the work on time, and took an order for more work away with him. What difference does it make whether I actually saw him or not?’
Ena felt the colour drain from her face. ‘Because Mr Silcott wasn’t on the train.’
Commander Dalton picked up the telephone, ‘Reception? I need to see the receipt book. Bring it in straight away, will you?’ He dropped the receiver onto its cradle and drummed his fingers on the top of the large mahogany desk. Ena made an O of her lips and blew through them to try and calm herself. She didn’t speak, nor did the commander.
A sharp rap on
