Ena picked up her handbag and lifted the strap of her gasmask onto her shoulder. ‘Good bye, Ben. Don’t think too badly of me.’ She wanted to hold him, tell him that one day he would find a girl that was worthy of his love, but that was the last thing he wanted to hear. Instead, she left him standing in the NAFFI and walked away. She didn’t look back.
She had half an hour to wait until the base bus arrived to take the aerodrome’s civilian workers into the town. She sat on the grass by the bus stop and burst into tears. She had cared for Ben, loved him. She might have fallen in love with him, eventually, if it hadn’t been for Henry. Henry had put an end to her loving anyone after he’d kissed her on the night of the dance at Bletchley Park. Ena had never felt a surge of energy like it – not before, nor since. Her pulsed raced and her body ached for him then. It did now.
At the sound of an aeroplane’s propellers whirring, Ena looked up. A big silver Douglas DC3 was lumbering down the runway. She watched the aircraft gather speed and cried for what might have been. Nearing the end of the runway, the nose of the huge silver aeroplane lifted. Seconds later, it was airborne.
Ena watched the plane climb high in the pale blue sky and disappear behind a patchwork of clouds. She wiped her face and whispered, ‘Goodbye.’ Goodbye to Ben and goodbye to love. She knew she would never see Henry Green again. She also knew that loving him had spoiled her for loving anyone else.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
There were three people in Commander Dalton’s office for the meeting: Ena, Herbert Silcott, and the man who had sat next to Ben on the train, the day Walter King was captured, who Ena knew was from military intelligence.
Commander Dalton opened the meeting by welcoming everyone. He introduced Herbert Silcott and Ena to the man from MI5 calling him, Mr Robinson. ‘Shall we get down to business?’
Mr Robinson nodded and read from his notes. ‘Freda and Walter King’s real names are Frieda and Walter Voight. Frieda has been on our files since arriving in England from Germany in 1938. Born and brought up in Berlin, she is the younger sister of Walter Voight. From an early age, they were members of the Hitler Youth movement and in their late teens were recruited by Abwehr, the German secret service, where they were trained as deep cover spies. They are both extremely intelligent – although it was Frieda who called the shots – and they are both ruthless, high-ranking Abwehr officers.’
Ena shivered. She hadn’t known Freda at all.
‘Thanks to your sterling work, Miss Dudley,’ Mr Robinson said, ‘Frieda Voight was apprehended in Liverpool trying to board the ferry to Ireland. Walter Voight, as you know, was captured in Rugby – again, thanks to you.’
Commander Dalton nodded. ‘The relationship between Frieda and Walter is ambiguous. They are known to military intelligence as brother and sister but when the house in Northampton was raided it was obvious they shared a bed.’ He glanced up at Commander Dalton who raised his eyebrows.
Mr Robinson returned to his notes, found his place, and continued, ‘It was while Walter Voight was at University in Oxford in the mid-thirties that he met and befriended Henry Green.’ Ena’s heart was beating so loudly she thought everyone would hear it. She took a slow calming breath. ‘During Voight’s final year at Oxford, Frieda joined him. She found lodgings near the college, and together, she and Walter recruited Henry Green.’
Commander Dalton took over. ‘Green and Voight shared a house in Northamptonshire after leaving Oxford, which Frieda put a stop to, saying that two men living together looked improper and would attract attention. So, in 1939, when we recruited Henry Green to Bletchley Park, he found lodgings in the town.’
‘We have since learned the real reason for Frieda Voight getting rid of Henry Green was so she could spend weekends with her brother alone,’ Mr Robinson cut in. ‘To keep up appearances, Frieda flirted with men, appearing to enjoy the attention they gave her. In the early days, she even took one or two men back to the house in Northampton, but it was her brother who Frieda wanted, who she loved.’
When the man from MI5 had finished speaking, Commander Dalton gave a sharp nod. He looked from Ena to Herbert Silcott. ‘Do you have any questions, or anything to add?’
‘What happened to Frieda’s uncle?’ Mr Silcott asked. ‘She was very fond of him. Was he also a spy?’
‘There was no uncle. The spare room with its single bed and wardrobe full of an elderly man’s clothes was part of their cover story.’
With the man from MI5 on one side of her and Commander Dalton on the other, Ena had felt out of her depth. But when she saw the commander close the file on Henry Green, she said, ‘I have a question.’ Knowing Henry would be tried and hung for treason, Ena had to say something on his behalf, however futile. The commander slowly lifted his head and sucked in a breath. He looked at Ena, a pained expression on his face. The other men followed his gaze. ‘I do not believe Henry Green is a spy. He saved my life the night I was followed.’
The commander looked at the MI5 man, who raised his eyebrows. They don’t believe me, she thought, and desperate to convince them, cried, ‘I’ve known Henry since I was a child. And on the night he rescued me from who I now know was Walter Voight,
