Her Secret War Read online

  Rob was her new partner.

  He beamed down at her and her heart sank. Would he ever give up? Ahead, Gladys twisted around and gave her a cheeky, wide-eyed grin. She appeared to be very happy with her new dance partner, whoever he was.

  When the song finished, Rob kept a firm hold of her arm and steered her off the floor away from Martin and the girls.

  ‘Gosh, I was hoping you’d come tonight. I’ve been looking out for you. Are you enjoying yourself?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, I am,’ Sarah answered, flustered. How to get away without causing a scene or hurting his feelings?

  ‘Can I get you a drink?’

  ‘No, thank you, really, I’m fine,’ she said. ‘My drink is over there.’

  Rob ignored the hint and pulled a packet of cigarettes from his pocket, offering her one. Sarah declined. ‘It’s rather warm,’ he said. ‘Come on; let’s go outside for a minute. It’s difficult to talk with all this racket.’

  Sarah followed him out of the door, hoping she could come up with the words to let him down gently. Why had he not believed her at lunchtime the other day? Was he one of those creepy fellows who wouldn’t take no for an answer? She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but honesty was always better, and most of all, she wanted him to stop pestering her, once and for all.

  ‘There, that’s better.’ Rob leaned against the wall of the hall and took a long drag on his cigarette. ‘Don’t suppose you’d rather go to the King’s Head for a quiet drink?’

  ‘No, thanks all the same.’

  ‘The thing is, I really like you, Sarah. Won’t you give me another chance?’ he pleaded.

  ‘Look Rob, you’re a nice lad but I’m just not ready to get into another relationship right now. After all that has happened in the last few months, and, well, I only broke up with someone before I left Dublin. I still have feelings for him. Do you understand?’

  Rob gazed at her, his expression blank; she could not fathom what he was thinking. Eventually, he smiled. ‘That’s Ok. You just need time. I won’t give up, you know. Maybe in a week or so you’ll feel differently. I believe we have a lot in common.’

  Sarah gnawed her bottom lip. Was he being deliberately obtuse? ‘I’m sorry, but I feel there is no future in this. Look, I’d better get back to the others. Enjoy your evening. See you around, Rob.’

  Sarah sensed his gaze following her as she made her escape back inside. It wasn’t a comfortable sensation.

  14

  8th October 1941, The Hut

  The Hursley Amateur Dramatic Society had just wrapped up rehearsals for the evening and Sarah was waiting outside for Martin, acknowledging the salutes of the other members as they passed and headed for home. Through the open door she could hear Martin laughing and joking with the last few members of the cast. It was always the same: he took ages to say goodbye. Like Uncle Tom, he was a great talker and thrived in company. Content to wait, she breathed in the chilly evening air and gazed above the treetops to the south of the old huts. The heavens were so much clearer here in the country than they had ever been back in Dublin. Tonight, the sky was velvety black with tiny pinpricks of starlight. Much to her relief, for weeks there had been no sign of enemy planes in the sky. Her initial fear that Jerry might find Supermarine’s new location and try to bomb the area had dissipated, and she was feeling much more comfortable in her surroundings. Now, as Sarah gazed upwards, she wished she knew more about the night sky.

  At last, Martin appeared, pulling on his coat. He greeted her with a nod, then stood beside her. ‘What has you so intrigued?’

  Sarah pointed skyward. ‘Any idea what they call those stars?’

  ‘Haven’t a clue. Anyway, I don’t know why you’re stargazing; all the stars you could ever wish to know are here tonight.’ Martin waved his hand back towards the rehearsal space and grinned.

  Sarah tut-tutted and gave him a mock scowl. ‘You’re getting a big head, cousin.’

  His eyes widened in response and his chin went up. ‘I shall ignore that unjust remark! Is it my fault you do not recognise greatness when you are in its midst?’

  Sarah tried not to smile. ‘It’s sad how a little Noël Coward has turned your head completely. I suppose next stop for you is the West End.’

  Martin quirked his lips. ‘Jolly right!’ Then he offered his arm, and although she hesitated long enough to glower at him, she linked arms and they set off down the laneway. ‘I detect sour grapes,’ Martin sniffed. ‘I’m sorry you joined our merry band too late to audition for a part. Of course, the backstage folk are just as important.’ He sniggered as a smug expression settled on his features.

  ‘Huh! I could act you off the stage any day,’ she replied, her nose in the air.

  Martin came to a stop and faced her. ‘That sounds like a challenge to me. Very well, next production we will see who lands the best part. Loser must stand the drinks for an entire evening in the King’s Head.’

  He held out his hand and Sarah shook it and said: ‘Deal.’

  They walked on towards the main road. ‘Seriously, what did you think of tonight’s rehearsal? I didn’t fluff my lines once, I’ll have you know,’ said Martin.

  Sarah smiled into the darkness. ‘True, but everyone else did. How long did you say you’ve been rehearsing?’

  Martin’s expression turned sheepish. ‘Since June. I know, I know, and let me say it is cruel of you to laugh. Some of them aren’t very good, but they make up for it in enthusiasm.’ He sighed as she spluttered. ‘Are we doomed, do you think?’

  Sarah tried her best not to laugh. ‘I think it’s as well it’s a comedy.’

  With a grunt, Martin started walking again. ‘Ha-ha, of errors you mean. Well, we have a few months yet. And don’t you dare say “just as well” or mention miracles.’

  ‘Actually, I was going to offer to say a novena. Who’s the saint for lost causes again?’

  Martin treated her to a frowning look and a dig of his elbow. ‘You’re hilarious!’

  ‘Ah, don’t despair. A lot can change in a few weeks. I’m surprised you haven’t encouraged Ruth to join the society. I thought she’d be eager to be near the great actor and bathe in his glory.’

  ‘I tried to persuade her, but she said she is too shy and can’t act.’ Martin cleared his throat and cast her a serious glance, his nose wrinkling. ‘I’ve been meaning to ask. What do you really think of her, Sarah? Honestly now?’

  ‘She’s mighty keen on you.’

  ‘That’s not what I asked, and you know it,’ he huffed.

  ‘Truthfully? I don’t know her very well, Martin. I get on better with Gladys. Ruth is inquisitive yet reveals nothing about herself … and she is overenthusiastic about some things, which can be trying at best.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘I don’t want to—‍’

  ‘No, please. I value your opinion. You see, I like her very much, but sometimes I can’t make her out. Mind you, young women are an enigma most of the time, present company excepted, of course.’ Martin squeezed her arm to his side. ‘And I don’t have Judith here to advise me any more on matters of the heart.’

  ‘She was your confidante?’

  ‘And vice versa. Though of late, I’ve heard little from her. London has made her forget us, I fear.’

  ‘It’s a big city. It’s bound to be … exciting and distracting, if you know what I mean.’

  ‘I know she’s having a grand old time. In fact, that’s why she hasn’t been home in months. But it upsets the folks and I hate that.’

  ‘Do you think there is a fella involved?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘I wouldn’t be surprised. Judith is a stunner. She’s never been short of admirers.’

  Sarah thought of the photograph which had pride of place on her aunt’s dresser. The girl was beautiful. ‘I doubt she lacks for suitors, as they would have said in the old days.’

  Martin nodded. ‘Indeed. Anyway, stop changing the subject. I want your thoughts on Ruth.’

  ‘All r
ight. My peeve with Ruth at the moment is that she is driving me nuts about Rob McArthur. No matter what I say, she goes on and on about how nice he is, and that I should give him another chance. It’s kind of unnerving as I’ve made it plain I have no intention of going out with him again.’

  ‘Hmm, she said something similar to me the other night,’ Martin said with a frown.

  ‘Well, I don’t think my love life is anybody else’s business,’ Sarah snapped, then regretted her words as she felt Martin stiffen. ‘I don’t include you in that, obviously.’

  ‘Well, as it happens, I told her something along those lines and that I would never interfere. Well, unless there was a need, and you were in trouble, you know.’ Martin frowned into the darkness.

  ‘You’re a dear!’ Sarah reached up and kissed his cheek.

  ‘Get away with ye! That’s what families are for.’

  ‘Well, it’s a novelty for me and I’m grateful,’ she said softly.

  ‘Stop that now, Sarah. You’re a proud young woman and I know that’s because you had a hard time of it with your father. Mother told me about it.’

  ‘She shouldn’t have burdened you with any of that. Anyway, it’s in the past now. Buried, just like him.’

  ‘Still, you must let us … well, I suppose what I’m trying to say is that you should let us care for you and look out for you. You’re not on your own any more; you’re an honorary Lambe, and that’s not something to be sniffed at.’

  ‘Martin, stop! I will be blubbing in a minute. You need not say any more about it. I know how lucky I am to have found you all.’ Sarah swallowed hard. ‘Now, what were we talking about?’ She was anxious to change the subject.

  ‘Ruth. I think you are being too hard on her. She just wants everyone to be happy,’ he said at last. ‘She’s very interested in you, always asking me about the family back in Ireland and how you are settling in.’

  ‘Really? She never asks me about it.’

  Martin shrugged. ‘She said she was concerned about you after all that had happened. I think she’s just being kind, Sarah.’

  Sarah wasn’t quite so sure; she found Ruth’s questioning of Martin strange. But she didn’t want to upset him. ‘Yes, that could be it. More importantly though, does she make you happy?’

  There was a slight hesitation. ‘Yes, as I said, I like her a lot and she’s terribly pretty, but I wish she weren’t so reserved. I prefer a more open personality. Sometimes …‍’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well, it’s as if she thinks through everything she says before she says it. I find it disconcerting. Am I that intimidating, do you think?’

  ‘Gracious, no! As it happens, I’ve noticed that about her too, but maybe she is as shy as she claims. Perhaps she hasn’t walked out with many lads. Though I know she and Rob were an item, a few months ago. Any idea what happened there?’

  ‘No. She’s never mentioned it, but that’s why I was put out on Saturday night, seeing them together. I can’t help but wonder.’

  ‘That’s the trouble with old flames: it’s hard to let them go.’ The words were out of her mouth far too quickly. She could have kicked herself.

  ‘Do you think she still likes him?’ he asked, his tone anxious.

  ‘Heavens, no! She’d hardly be urging me to date him if she did,’ Sarah replied. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply anything. I was thinking of my own circumstances. Hearts are wayward things, aren’t they?’

  ‘If you say so. I guess you are referring to that RAF chap?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes. I think he is part of the reason I didn’t want to take things further with Rob. In fact, the trouble is I compare every lad I meet to Paul.’

  ‘And none of them measure up?’ he asked with a glint in his eye. ‘You must stop doing that. You’ll never move on otherwise.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose you are right,’ she answered with a sigh. ‘But Paul was special. I think it will take time.’

  ‘Maybe Ruth is right: give poor old Rob another try.’

  ‘Oh, don’t you start!’ she exclaimed in exasperation, just as they reached home. But her cousin only grinned at her as she swept past him and into the house.

  15

  14th October 1941, Hursley Park

  It was a dull Tuesday afternoon. Sarah looked up from her drawing board and rolled her shoulders to ease out her muscles. She had been working for hours on this tracing and she was finding it hard going. The level of detail required, compared to the architectural drawings she had traced in her old job, still astonished her. She had a newfound respect for the engineers and draughtsmen designing the planes, not to mention the men who built the parts based on the new specifications she and the other girls worked on so diligently. There was a certain satisfaction in being a small part of the process. And if it helped defeat Germany, as it must, all the better. Sometimes she could not believe how lucky she had been to get the job here.

  Gazing out into the park, Sarah fell to daydreaming. What would it be like to be wealthy and live in such a fabulous house as this, with grounds so extensive you could get lost in them? Sarah wondered if Lady Cooper wandered around the house and gardens alone at night, decrying the Ministry of Aircraft Production’s appropriation of her home. Did she lose herself in her memories of better times? With such a beautiful house, the Coopers must have entertained lavishly in days gone by. Sarah had taken a peek at the grand reception rooms whenever the opportunity arose. Despite the ugly modern office furniture, the grandeur of the rooms, with their beautiful floors, ornate plasterwork and rich drapes, was still breathtaking. Sarah would fantasise by stepping back in time, conjuring up magnificent dinner parties with champagne and cocktails flowing, and the participants altogether splendid in their evening attire. Would those happy-go-lucky days and nights ever return for the landed gentry? Or, like the last war, would their houses be left bereft of fathers and sons, lost on some far-off battlefield, never to return?

  Sarah doubted Hursley Park would ever be the same again. There would always be reminders of the war and its effect on the house. At least no walls had been knocked down or plasterwork removed, but there was bound to be some damage with so many people working in the building. The room she and her fellow tracers occupied had those priceless Wedgwood panels, and though they were mindful of them, it was inevitable they would be affected by the girls’ day-to-day activities. Still, Sarah hoped Lady Cooper would get her estate back in one piece, someday. But it wouldn’t be any time soon. It was common knowledge Supermarine was recruiting aggressively and needed more space at Hursley. Luckily, the grounds were expansive, and additional huts, camouflaged under the trees, were being erected to house more departments. Uncle Tom and Martin worked in one of the huts, and there was a rumour the tracing team might also move out to something similar in a few months’ time.

  A discreet cough and a raised brow from Miss Sugden at the top of the room brought Sarah back to reality. A glance at her watch told her it was still early afternoon. At this rate, she might get to start on another sheet today. Sarah took up her ink pen and traced a curve onto the sheet of tracing cloth. It was almost done; just one more loop … and now it was finished. Sitting up straight, she scanned the page before signing off at the bottom of the sheet. She smiled – the draughtsman who had signed off the drawing was Uncle Tom. Then she added the date. It was always satisfying to complete a tracing.

  As Sarah added her tracing to the batch of sheets awaiting collection and despatch to the printers, the door opened. Miss Whitaker stood in the doorway staring at Sarah’s vacant desk for several seconds before looking around the room, her gaze eventually landing on her target. ‘Ah, Miss Gillespie; there you are. Come with me, please.’

  The Dragon’s tone gave nothing away, and Sarah shared an anxious glance with Gladys before following Miss Whitaker out into the corridor. Had she made a mistake on one of her tracings? Was she in some kind of trouble? It was a regular occurrence for one of the girls to be hauled before the Dragon for inaccuracy or
tarnished tracings.

  Miss Whitaker turned and walked back down the corridor towards her office. A few feet away, she stopped and beckoned Sarah forward. ‘This is highly unusual and I’m not sure I approve, Miss Gillespie. There is a gentleman here to see you. He says it is urgent and cannot wait until after office hours. He’s waiting for you in my office,’ the Dragon said, staring hard at her over the rim of her glasses. Sarah was puzzled. Who on earth could it be?

  ‘I wasn’t expecting a visit from anyone, Miss Whitaker,’ she replied.

  The Dragon’s lips compressed. ‘He has pulled rank, so I could not refuse. Very well. Run along; don’t keep him waiting.’ Sarah’s manager treated her to one more reproving glance before walking off in the opposite direction.

  Sarah’s spirits lifted. Could it be Paul? she wondered, her heart beginning to pound. But he wouldn’t arrive unannounced, and he wouldn’t even know for certain she was working here. If not Paul, then who else could it be? As she entered the room, she saw a man in naval uniform with his back to her over at the window, staring out into the grounds. The stranger turned and smiled. He was what her mother would have described as ‘a fine figure of a man’. Sizing him up from beneath her lashes, she reckoned he was in his late forties. His hair was dark with silvery threads at his temples, and his bearing was military-like. With sharp features, and high cheekbones, he had an attractive face.

  The officer moved towards her, limping badly. He held out his hand. ‘Miss Gillespie?’ he enquired.

  ‘Yes, I’m Sarah Gillespie. I understand you wished to see me, sir?’ she said after a firm handshake.

  ‘Please.’ He indicated she should sit down with a wave of his hand. Sarah sat on the edge of the seat and waited as he limped around the desk and took Miss Whitaker’s seat.

  The man sat forward and steepled his fingers, elbows resting on the desk. ‘Well, I’m jolly glad to meet you at last, Miss Gillespie. My name is Captain Northcott, Royal Navy. At present, I work for the government on special assignment. Dashed sorry I had to interrupt your work. Your manager, Miss Whitaker, was kind enough to allow me the opportunity to speak to you. Please be reassured that there is no cause for alarm, young lady, and I have no wish to detain you from your vital work for longer than is necessary.’