Page 17 of V2

Knowsley was more stubborn than he looked. ‘It’s a demanding job, sir – working under extreme time pressure, putting pilots’ lives at risk, without any room to make an error.’

Templeton said, ‘I don’t care how you do it, but I intend to go to my office straight away and telephone the Secretary of State to tell him that we have finally come up with a plan that might just work, and that we’ll have eight WAAFs on a plane to Belgium tomorrow. Is that clear?’

If Knowsley was minded to debate the issue further, he clearly thought better of it. ‘Yes, sir.’

‘Good. I’ll leave you gentlemen to sort out the details.’ Templeton gestured to the flight lieutenant, who retrieved his crutches from the corner and gave him his arm to help him stand. He looked completely done in, thought Kay as he hobbled past her, his eyes fixed straight ahead, his jaw clamped to contain the pain, his face damp and clammy-looking.

After he had been gone for a minute, and the others had started talking – ‘Well, Clarence, you’ve really landed yourself in it now’ – she got to her feet. Ignoring Starr – ‘Kay, where are you going?’ – she slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her.

She looked up and down the long, deserted corridor, uncertain which direction to choose. Suddenly the door to her right opened and the flight lieutenant emerged. He nodded briefly to her and walked away. She waited until he had disappeared around the corner, then stepped quickly to the office, knocked, and without waiting for a reply went in.

He was sitting behind his desk with his back to the window, a telephone in front of him, sipping what looked like a glass of whisky. It was growing dark outside. The room was filled with shadows. A lamp in the corner provided the only light. She could barely make out his face. She moved a little closer but stopped well short of his desk. He looked at her over the rim of his glass and sighed.

‘Well that was pretty bloody. I’m sorry. Drink?’

She shook her head. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘A bit rough, but I’ll mend.’

‘Where’s Mary?’

‘Gone back to Bletchley.’

‘So you’re on your own? Where will you stay?’

‘The ministry’s got me a hotel somewhere.’ He put down his glass. ‘Look, Kay, do you mind? I’m not sure I can face this conversation right now. I’ve got a splitting headache and Downing Street’s about to call.’

‘Don’t worry. I haven’t come to make a scene. I just want to ask you for a favour.’

‘Which is what?’

‘After everything that’s happened, I can’t just go on sitting in the countryside looking at photographs – I need to do something.’

‘It’s important work, Kay.’

‘I know it is. But it isn’t the real war, is it? I’m good at maths. I know how to use a slide rule. Tell Wing Commander Starr you want him to let me join this unit in Belgium.’

He jerked his head back slightly in surprise. ‘He’ll never buy it.’

‘Yes, he will – he will if you order him.’

‘He’ll say you’re too valuable to lose.’

‘Tell him it’s only temporary, while they train up more WAAFs in England. Please, Mike – this may be my last chance to make a real difference. Besides,’ she added, playing what she knew to be her trump card, ‘wouldn’t it be easier for you if I were out of the country?’

‘Of course not.’ But she could tell he was tempted as soon as he added, rather more weakly, ‘That’s entirely beside the point.’

Before she could reply, his telephone began to ring. In the quietness of the twilit office, the clamour sounded unnaturally loud. He studied it warily for a moment, flexed his fingers, then picked up the receiver and placed it carefully to his ear.

‘Templeton.’ He listened for a moment. She could hear the tinny, urgent jabber at the other end. He nodded. ‘Very good. Thank you for letting me know.’ He hung up. ‘That was Stanmore. A V2 just hit north-east London. And then there were nine …’ He looked at her briefly, then gazed out of the window. ‘All right. Leave it with me. I’ll have a word with Les, see what I can do.’

‘Thank you.’

He called after her when she reached the door: ‘Look after yourself, Kay.’

She didn’t turn round. I am a stranger to him, she thought, just as he is to me.

The telephone started to ring again.