Winter at bletchley park, p.1
Winter at Bletchley Park, page 1
WINTER AT BLETCHLEY PARK
Molly Green
Copyright
Published by AVON
A Division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
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London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk
First published by HarperCollinsPublishers 2022
Copyright © Molly Green 2022
Cover design by Claire Ward © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2022
Cover photographs © Joanna Czogala / Arcangel Images (main figure), © Stephen Mulcahey / Trevillion Images (left background figure), Lenscap / Alamy Stock Photo (Enigma Machine keys) and © Stephen Mulcahey (all other images)
Molly Green asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Source ISBN: 9780008538897
Ebook Edition © November 2022 ISBN: 9780008562144
Version: 2022-09-05
Dedication
To all the men and women who worked in the ‘enigma’ that was Bletchley Park. It’s been widely acknowledged that the codebreakers brought about the ending of the war by approximately two years, thereby saving thousands of lives. The work, especially that performed by the women and girls, was mundane and tiring, the constant changing shifts causing havoc with their health. What’s more, they were rarely told any details about any event they’d played a part in, nor how vital their work was in the war effort, but now their secret is out we can thank them profusely for what they uncomplainingly achieved.
It’s also been officially recognised that the geniuses of Bletchley Park created the world’s first electronic digital computer, the forerunner to our modern computers, namely, Colossus. At appointed times a facsimile of Colossus can be seen in fascinating action at Bletchley Park in the National Museum of Computing in Block H. In fact, I highly recommend a visit to the Park to appreciate in fuller detail the huge variety of work which was carried out in this most secret location. The few dozen clever and talented people who began on this experimental work at the beginning of the war became 10,000 by Victory in Europe Day, perfectly chiming with a comment once made by Hitler that the Enigma would never be broken because you would need to employ 10,000 people to do it!
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Before …
Part One
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Part Two
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Part Three
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
After …
Historical Note
Reading List for A Winter Wedding at Bletchley Park
Acknowledgements
Keep Reading …
About the Author
Also by Molly Green
About the Publisher
Before …
Near Norwich, Norfolk
23rd January 1936
Rosemary Frost stood impatiently while her mother adjusted the white satin wedding dress she’d drastically altered from the one her friend’s daughter – at least three sizes larger – had worn for her own wedding ten years before. To Rosie’s eyes, the way her mother had not only taken it in, but also brought it up to date, made it look brand-new. Rosie glanced at her wrist where her watch, the most beautiful thing she’d ever owned – that is, until she’d looked at herself in the mirror and seen the transformation the dress had made – told her that in half an hour she and Dad would be walking down the aisle towards the boy she loved with her whole heart and soul. She still couldn’t believe she’d managed to persuade her parents to allow her to marry Hugo. She might only be seventeen, but she knew her own mind and she would never change it.
What would he be thinking right this minute? Would he be nervous? No, she didn’t think so. She’d always admired his confidence. His perfect understanding of what to do in any situation. Maybe that came from being older. Last month he’d even gone with her to her parents and asked her father for his daughter’s hand in the old-fashioned way. At first Dad had been knocked for six, though he’d managed not to be rude. But his pinched nostrils gave him away. She grinned at the memory, though at the time she’d quaked. He’d immediately said no, she was far too young.
‘Do you have your parents’ permission?’ he’d demanded of Hugo, when the four of them were crammed together in the parlour.
Hugo flushed. ‘I’ll be twenty-one in January … when we plan to marry,’ he added, ‘so I won’t need it.’
‘Hmm.’ Her father’s mouth was a grim line. ‘That means they don’t approve neither.’ He lit a cigarette and Rosie bit her lower lip as she waited for him to say something … anything that would mean she could marry Hugo.
‘If you both feel the same after two more years, your mother and I will reconsider.’ He looked at Hugo. ‘Then at least you’ll have had some experience in your father’s business and will be able to support Rosie.’
After Hugo had gone home, thoroughly dejected, she tackled her mother on her own. If she could get her on her side, Dad might be persuaded.
‘It’ll be one less mouth for you to feed, Mum,’ she said. ‘And Hugo’s so generous with his money. Look what he’s bought me.’
She’d hidden the watch for a few days. Hugo had told her it was a special design called Art Deco and that the casing and chain-link strap were solid silver. Where the number ‘6’ should be was a tiny second hand in its own little patterned border of coloured glass. She’d loved it immediately.
‘I’ll keep it specially for our wedding day as it’s too beautiful to wear for every day.’
‘Don’t think that,’ Hugo laughed. ‘It’s for you to wear now and enjoy it.’ He took the watch from her. ‘Here, let me put it on for you.’
Once it was on her slim wrist she admired it even more. Kissing him, she said:
‘I’ll always wear it – always.’
‘Keep it on, and don’t take it off until I give you one with diamonds the next time,’ he’d chuckled. ‘Then you can put this one in the back of the drawer.’
She’d vehemently shaken her head.
‘No, don’t, Hugo. I don’t ever want another one. I love this one.’
A few days later Rosie had rolled up the sleeve of her new jumper she’d knitted from a bag of wool her mother had brought home from one of the ladies at the Women’s Institute, and held out her wrist for her approval.
‘This would have cost a great deal of money,’ her mother said, as she bent close to examine the watch. ‘You shouldn’t be acceptin’ expensive presents from a boy at your age. We in’t brought you up like that. I shall speak to Dad and he’ll say you have to give it back. It gives Hugo the wrong impression of you.’
‘Mum, you might as well know it, but he’s asked me to marry him. And I’ve said yes.’
Her mother drew back in horror. ‘You’re seventeen, Rosie. You’ve got your life in front of you.’
‘My life is with Hugo. We’re in love and we’re going to marry, whatever you and Dad say. We don’t want to wait. We’ll go to Gretna Green if we have to.’
She hadn’t meant to blurt out the last bit. Her mother’s mouth dropped open.
‘You wouldn’t.’
‘Yes, we would.’
‘You’d bring shame on the family. That we couldn’t afford to give you a pro
‘Course I’m not.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, I’m sure.’
Her mother shook her head.
‘I should have told you the facts of life when you started your monthlies – not to let a boy near you until you were married. It’s easy to get carried away and—’
‘Mum, I know. And I’m not.’
‘But you let him go all the way.’
Rosie was silent.
‘How could you, Rosie?’ Her mother’s expression was grim. ‘We in’t brought you up to let boys have their wicked way with you.’
‘Not boys, Mum. Just one, who’s not wicked. He happens to love me – and I love him.’ She blew out her cheeks. ‘Honestly, Mum, Hugo wants to help the family if you’ll let him, not bring any trouble. As I keep telling you, he’s really generous—’
‘Dad and I wouldn’t dream of accepting handouts from the Garfields,’ her mother cut in. ‘Your dad’s got far too much pride.’
‘You sound as though you really dislike them.’
‘That’s hardly fair. We’ve only met them once on Hugo’s birthday when he took us all out to that expensive restaurant.’
‘I only had to see your faces to know what you were thinking. And that was a whole year ago.’ She appealed to her mother. ‘We haven’t changed our minds, Mum. We still love each other and want to be together.’
Her mother sighed. ‘We don’t have anything in common with them. They’re in a class far above us. That’s what worries Dad – that Hugo’s taken advantage of you when you’re so—’
‘Y-o-o-o-u-ng.’ Rosie dragged out the last word.
‘Don’t be cheeky, Rosemary.’
Her mother only called her Rosemary when she was really cross. Rosie bit her lip.
‘Mum, we don’t want to run away to Gretna Green, but we will if—’
Her mother put the palm of her hand up.
‘That’s enough,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to hear no more about that.’
Rosie got up from her chair in the kitchen and planted a kiss on her mother’s cheek.
‘Please, Mum, will you talk to Dad? But about us getting married, not about the watch.’
After several days, when Rosie had gained dark circles under her eyes through lack of sleep, her father had eventually, though reluctantly, said yes, he would allow the marriage to take place, but he couldn’t be hypocritical and go so far as to give her his blessing.
She didn’t care two hoots about his blessing. It would have been nice but it wouldn’t make any difference – the outcome was the same. She would go down the aisle in a beautiful white dress which she and her mother would make, and the boy who made her heart sing whenever she set eyes on him, and whom she adored more than anyone else in the world, would be waiting for her.
And finally the day was here – the day they would be joined together as man and wife. Mrs Hugo Garfield. She hugged herself.
‘Keep still, love,’ her mother said, positioning the veil and digging a kirby grip into Rosie’s scalp, making her squeal.
‘Ouch, Mum. That hurt.’ She twisted her neck to look round at her mother. ‘You’re not so worried now, are you, Mum, about Hugo?’
Shirley Frost glanced at her.
‘I suppose he’s genuine enough, but your dad’s still got reservations.’ She paused. ‘That’s partly your fault, love. You’ve kept Hugo under wraps. You’ve never even said how you met him. I wouldn’t’ve thought he’d mix with our sort.’
Rosie flushed. ‘I met him at the Samson where my friends and I went dancing every Saturday night. He was the first boy to ask me to dance.’ She smiled at the memory. ‘I just hope once we’re married Dad will accept him.’ She looked at her mother directly. ‘Hugo’s a lovely man, Mum. I wouldn’t be marrying him if he wasn’t.’
Shirley Frost sighed. ‘I just hope one day you won’t regret it. We had great hopes for you after you won the scholarship to go to grammar school – the only one in the family. And studying for your School Certificate. With your brains you’d have gone on to university and won a degree. You could’ve been a teacher. That’s what you’ve always set your heart on. Teachin’ the older kids mathematics. Your dad and I would have been so proud …’ she trailed off wistfully.
It was true. Rosie had voiced it more than once to her parents. And she was sure she’d be happy in such a vocation instilling enthusiasm in the children by making the subject come alive. But since she’d begun to learn Italian with Signorina Bonetti, her dream was to visit Italy – the culture, the history, the language. And Hugo, who also spoke Italian – it was one of the things that had drawn them together – had promised to take her.
‘I’m not just going to stay at home while Hugo goes out to work. I’d go potty. No, Hugo’s encouraging me to continue my studies.’
‘It won’t be the same, love,’ her mother said. ‘And next thing you know it will be babies. And then you really will be tied to the house.’
Like you are, Mum, with all of us.
Not that she’d dream of saying it aloud. She only knew that babies weren’t going to get a look in – not for ages anyway. Hugo planned they would have a few years of fun before settling down to a family. He wanted to take her to the Continent, forever describing the museums of Paris, the cathedral in Milan, the natural light in Venice that artists loved to capture, the music in Vienna, as well as places she’d never heard of. Rosie felt a frisson of excitement. She couldn’t wait to absorb it all. It was a good thing Hugo’s family were well off. If it was left to hers, they wouldn’t be going further than Norwich. But even that would be heaven – so long as Hugo was by her side.
She’d wanted only a small wedding, and although Hugo’s mother had tried to take over with the guest list, Rosie had firmly put her foot down. A crowd of strangers whom she’d never set eyes on before, showing off their finery and making her parents feel inferior, was the last thing she wanted. Since then, Hugo had mentioned his parents wouldn’t be attending. That was fine as far as she was concerned. But how did Hugo feel?
‘Is it going to make things difficult for you at home?’ she’d said, worried.
Hugo caught her in his arms and kissed her.
‘Quite honestly, I’m relieved. I don’t know most of them either. It’s a pity about Mother as she doesn’t get out much, but I wouldn’t care if it was only the two of us with two witnesses. So I’ll leave it to you. I’ll have two or three friends and that’s it.’
‘What about your brother?’
‘Lance? He’s still in India. I doubt if he’ll be able to get leave.’
‘Do you two get along?’
Rosie realised as she asked the question how little she knew her husband-to-be. Well, there’d be plenty of time for them both to get to know one another once they were married. She couldn’t help the tingle of anticipation.
‘Yes, he’s a decent bloke but wouldn’t go into the family business – so it was a big disappointment for my father. I’m now the one expected to take over one day, but as I’m the younger son, it wasn’t what he had in mind. Lance is only too glad to be out of it and Father’s never forgiven him.’
What a horrible man. Poor Hugo.
Hugo kissed the tip of her nose.
‘No need to concern yourself about all that, darling,’ he’d said. ‘Just the usual stuff between family.’
Hugo had ordered two motorcars for the wedding day – one for her parents and her little brother, six-year-old Roddy, and one for Rosie and her two younger sisters, fourteen-year-old Heather and twelve-year-old Ivy, the bridesmaids. The first motor disappeared down the road and when Rosie was making a final check in the dressing-table mirror there was a knock at the front door.
‘That’ll be ours, I expect,’ Rosie said. ‘Heather, go down and tell the driver we’ll be five minutes, and see if it’s stopped raining.’
‘Why am I always the one that has to—?’
‘Heather, please don’t argue on my wedding day.’
Heather curled her lip and disappeared.
‘Rosie, I’ve made you something as a surprise,’ Ivy said, holding out a posy of roses and pansies, her glasses slipping down her nose in her excitement.
‘Oh, Ivy, it’s lovely … and you really made this?’
‘Yes. I’m sorry they’re only paper but—’
‘I love them,’ Rosie swiftly kissed her sister, ‘because you made them specially for me.’ She examined the delicate flowers closely. ‘You know, Ivy, you’re really talented.’
