Chapter Text
Charlotte hitched the strap of her gas mask up her shoulder, feeling the warmth of the early afternoon sun on her face. The platform was quiet now the train had left in a cloud of gritty smoke, and she stood enjoying the relative peace for a few moments. It was a while since she had felt that the wool of her uniform jacket might be too warm for the day and she revelled in the promise of Spring, whilst suppressing the itch at the nape of her neck at the thought of the sticky summer months ahead cooped up in airless rooms.
The journey from Buckinghamshire, which had been broken up by a night in a London hostel, had revealed the seasons changing as she watched through the grimy window of the train. It had been an age since she had been to the coast, and the smell of the sea, even though she couldn’t see it from the station, made the air feel very different from Bletchley Park.
She resisted the urge to check the letter again and set her kitbag down at her feet, preferring to simply wait in the sunshine. She closed her eyes, opening them when a shadow fell across her face to discover a tall, blond officer looking down at her, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. A smirk, more accurately.
“Second Officer Heywood?” he drawled, a hint of a question in his cut-glass accent. “Captain Denham, at your service.”
“Captain…?” She tilted her head, why on earth would an officer be sent to collect her from the station? One looking for a jaunt away from actual work, she presumed.
“I was running errands for Major Parker in town and so offered to collect you en route.” His French accent was impeccable, and he quirked an eyebrow at her, by way of a challenge, bending to collect her bag from the floor in front of her. She quickly took it up herself, again adjusting the strap of her handbag and gasmask as she straightened up.
“Thank you, Captain. Lead the way, then,” she said, resolutely meeting his gaze.
He had left the windows down on the car, so she leant in to open it before he, in an act of gallantry she supposed, could swing it open for her. She placed her bag on the back seat as he started the engine.
“Here for an interview, I take it?” Captain Denham looked over at her rather than at the road, “With Lieutenant Colbourne?” She detected a hint of something as he said his fellow officer’s name but couldn’t yet decipher what the inflection meant.
“Yes.” She already felt it was wise to be guarded about her work with this man until she understood all the dynamics that were at play here at… Heyrick Park? She thought that was what the letter had said the place was called. Her superiors had been a little cagey about what it would involve and had given her nothing at all about the wider set-up at the estate.
The Sussex town passed by the window, and the captain appeared to have given up trying to start a conversation so she looked out as they swept out along a clifftop road, until she had her first view of the sea, finally. The sun sparkled on the slate grey surface, and she watched the white horses out in the distance with a smile creeping over her face.
“Pretty, isn’t it?” Captain Denham had clearly caught her look of excitement. She schooled her features.
“Indeed,” was all she replied.
As they swept up to the gatehouse, which at one time had no doubt been magnificent but was now a little overrun with ivy, a guard looked up briefly from his newspaper and waved them through. Not exactly high security, she noted.
Stopping in front of the imposing oak doors, which had also seen better days, Captain Denham turned to her, smirking again, “I’ll let you out here. I’m sure there’ll be a warm welcome for you, but if not, look out for Mrs Wheatley who will see you where you need to go.”
The hall entrance would have once been very grand, before the military had scuffed and marked every surface, and she thought with a pang of this beautiful place falling into the kind of gentile decline that was so evident at Bletchley. It was the way of things, she supposed, these fine estates requisitioned by the military in these times of national peril. Although she was unclear on what purpose this house had been taken for, as of yet: it was clearly not a hospital, nor a school. The quiet was rather disconcerting.
Looking around, she spied a door that looked like it led down a narrow staircase, presumably the old servants’ quarters. She was just about to investigate when a matronly woman, wearing a dark woollen suit with high high-necked blouse and a chatelaine of keys around her waist, appeared and looked her up and down. “Second Officer Heywood I presume?” At Charlotte’s nod, she added, “Welcome to Heyrick Park. If you’ll follow me…”
She bustled along the corridor to their left, so that Charlotte had to hastily grab her things to follow. The woman, presumably the housekeeper, was saying “Mr… Lieutenant Colbourne is in the study, down this way. Major Parker wanted a bigger space, of course, so he took the drawing room…” This last bit was muttered, so Charlotte wasn’t entirely sure she had been meant to hear it but filed it away for further inspection when she had time.
The woman stopped in front of a heavy wooden door, which was slightly ajar, and knocked firmly before stepping through the door. Charlotte, unsure whether she should follow, stood on the threshold and looked into the room, sunlight pouring in through the tall windows. At the desk sat an officer who appeared to be in his early thirties, hastily scratching out a letter with his left hand. His blue uniform jacket was on the back of his chair, his white shirt sleeves rolled up and his tie askew, and the hand that wasn’t writing was running through his dark hair. From the way a curl fell over his forehead, this was not the first time it had been disturbed in this way today. He would never get away with that level of uniform at Bletchley, she thought wryly.
“Second Officer Heywood to see you, sir, for the interview.” Charlotte took this as her cue to step into the room and noticed as she did so that his gaze hadn’t lifted from the papers in front of him.
“Thank you. Mrs Wheatley, can you please ensure this goes to the post room immediately?” He licked the envelope and handed her his letter, before returning his attention to his desk and picking up his pen once more.
Mrs Wheatley left without a further word, although she did throw a sympathetic look at Charlotte as she went, who stood at attention in front of the desk, trying to tamp down her irritation with the arrogance of the officer sitting in front of her, who had not looked up at her yet.
After a few moments of the pen scratching on the paper, he finally spoke, “Your scores at the Chess Club…?”
Somewhat startled, she suppressed the urge to look over her shoulder to see if someone else was in the room. Realising he was actually addressing her at last, she stifled a huff and said, “Consistently above average. Sir.” The minutest pause she had left before ”sir” was all the insubordination she would risk, but it was quietly satisfying nonetheless.
“Was wissen Sie über die jüngsten Operationen rund um diese Gewässer?” he asked, pointedly, still not looking at her. [What do you know about the recent operations around these waters?]
“Ich weiß, dass es in letzter Zeit eine Veränderung gegeben haben muss, damit wir hier sein können,” she said, an icy tone creeping into her voice. [I know there must have been a change recently for us to be here.]
Finally, he deigned to look up at her, and she saw his brandy-coloured eyes widen slightly before he schooled his features back to an impassive expression. She held his gaze, feeling her courage rise, glad of the training she’d had with fiercer men than this in her early days of service. If he thinks this is intimidating, he is sorely mistaken.
He appeared to hesitate, then put his pen down and stood, gesturing with his hand for her to sit in one of the chairs arranged on the other side of the desk. As she settled herself in the seat, he moved around to her side of the desk and perched on it, arms crossed and legs stretched out in front of him. The picture of casual dominance, and Charlotte barely contained her eye roll, despite finding her eyes drifting to his thighs. Focus, Charlotte.
“What do you make of Heyrick Park?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.
“I think it is what was once a beautiful home that the military is about to mar with its carelessness, much like Bletchley before it.” She saw his face flinch for an almost imperceptibly brief moment and felt a twinge of regret at her stark wording, although she wasn’t sure why. “Other than that, it is hard to say, sir, as I have only just arrived and have not been informed of the nature of the operations here.” She watched him watching her, feeling as if she had been dropped into the middle of a chess match, without seeing the opening moves and without a clear sense of who was playing which colour.
“Heyrick has been requisitioned as a base for the Army operation to distribute supplies to both the war effort and the civilian population. There is a small cohort of officers overseeing setting up that work, and an attaché for the US Navy who is based here permanently, while her boss…” He tailed off, and she caught a slight note of distaste in his voice for his fellow officer. It’s not exactly a happy family here, she thought sardonically, “...her boss will visit sometimes to monitor the supplies to their fleet based out of Southampton.”
He must have noticed her slight frown as she mentally calculated the distance from that port to where they were sat, as he said, “Yes, we are the furthest base involved in their supplies, which is why he is an infrequent visitor.” For someone in the secret service he was not very good at hiding his pleasure at this arrangement, she thought and suppressed a grin.
“Given what you have told me, then, sir, I’m at a loss as to why I am here…?” She tilted her own head to match his expression from earlier, and the corners of his mouth quirked up in a fleeting smile.
“We…” and Charlotte felt a bloom of warmth in her chest at this word, which took her by surprise but she pushed it aside, “...are here to explore the establishing of a new listening station.” He watched her with narrowed eyes, to see how she reacted to this news.
“I see. Why here?”
“Proximity to the coast.” He turned away to pick up a manila file from a pile on the desk. She blushed slightly as she heard the derisive tone in his words.
“Yes, sir, but as far as I can tell Heyrick Park has always maintained its current proximity to the coast.” He looked back round at her, quickly, eyes widening, and she felt a small sense of triumph of having landed a tiny blow to this man’s belief in his superior intellect. “Perhaps what I should have said is, why now?”
His lips tightened and his jaw clenched, and Charlotte felt unsure whether he was angry or suppressing a smile.
“Well, Heywood, I’m sure you can appreciate that the enemy is keen to avoid detection and so we must maintain something of the element of surprise. The very unchanging nature of our position means that having not had any form of surveillance on this particular spot before, they will not be expecting us to detect signals here. Plus, as you so astutely pointed out,” here, he looked down at his feet, “there has been an increase in the frequency of U-boat operations detected along this section of the coast, which the navy feels presents opportunities for us.”
He looked up once more and held her gaze as she took in what he had told her, and the sense of dread, which she kept at bay through the hours of work and the humdrum of routine, reasserted itself. The enemy was strong, and unpredictable, still, even though Bletchley was making progress to thwart their secrecy. She schooled her features to hide the shudder that ran up her spine.
He turned away, carrying the file and retaking his seat at the desk, and she stood to relieve some of the butterflies that had risen in her stomach.
“I’m assuming you have experience in this sort of work, which is why your superiors have sent you to me?” He flipped open the file and looked at her over the top of it. She resisted the urge to shift her weight from one leg to the other.
“Well,” she began, “if by experience you mean running the shifts of a listening station and all that that entails then yes, I have, but if you mean establishing a centre from scratch, then…” she tailed off, and his eyes held hers. She cleared her throat, “Then, no. sir.”
“So you are here under false pretences, Second Officer Heywood…” His eyes fell to the paperwork in her file, and she felt herself flush again, but this time with irritation. Insufferable man!
“I am here, sir, because my superiors sent me to be interviewed.” She jutted her chin out, standing ramrod straight, her eyes flashing with anger. “And as you have determined that I am clearly not required, I will leave you to your work. Sir.” Not waiting to be dismissed, she turned and marched to the chair, collecting her bags and heading straight to the door without a backward glance, closing it firmly.
Stopping just outside the door she leaned against the wall, closing her eyes to block out the realisation that she had just walked out on a superior officer. She exhaled sharply, gave herself a little shake and repositioned her bags over her shoulder, before heading back down the corridor the way she had come earlier with the housekeeper.
As she passed a door that had been closed earlier, but now stood open, she heard a booming voice and looked within, seeing the officer who had collected her from the station standing in front of a large desk, where a man in his early forties wearing a major’s uniform sat. Captain Denham raised an eyebrow at her, and she was irritated to think he must have noticed her discomposure, but the senior officer was talking so she had no time to dwell on this and turned to give him her attention.
“Ah, Second Officer Heywood, I presume? Welcome to Heyrick Park!” He leaned forward in his seat, smiling affably, and Charlotte stood to attention. “Major Tom Parker, at your service.” He seemed pleased with his little joke.
“Thank you, Major.” Her voice was a little stiff, but she held his gaze, resolutely avoiding looking at the smug captain who, she could see from the corner of her eye, was watching her closely.
“Down from the Chess Club, eh? I’m sure Colbourne has put you through your paces!” the major continued. Denham smirked and Charlotte bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from saying something unwise.
“Yes, sir. And we have just finished, so I was about to request transport back to the station, if that would be possible…?”
Denham looked about to volunteer but the Major did not notice, rifling through papers on his desk and saying with a lofty wave of his hand without looking up, “Petty Officer Lambe has business in town, she will be able to take you. She is around somewhere, if you will just wait for her…” He trailed off and Charlotte understood herself dismissed, so turned to leave, still avoiding looking at the Captain.
Back in the entrance hall, Charlotte decided that she would most certainly not be waiting there in the open space where people were frequently walking by, so took herself off through the heavy doors and headed to the side of the building where she dropped her bags to the floor and leaned back against the wall. A mix of mortification and anger coursed through her, and she realised her hands were trembling as she reached into her handbag for her cigarettes and fumbled to light one. Breathing out the smoke, she picked a piece of tobacco from her lips, willing herself to calm.
“Oh, there you are,” she heard an American-accented voice say, and Charlotte turned to look at the woman approaching, who was short, her skin radiant and her tightly curled hair drawn back under her naval cap. “Well, if I must…” she winked, pulling her own cigarette case from her pocket and quickly lighting up. She flung her head back as she took her first drag, exhaling a stream of smoke over their heads, which was no mean feat considering she was even shorter than Charlotte. “One for the road, eh?”
Charlotte nodded, holding her gaze, then looked away to blow smoke in the opposite direction. “Petty Officer Lambe, I’m guessing?”
“The very same,” she agreed cheerfully, “and you must be Second Officer Heywood. Here to meet our mysterious Lieutenant Colbourne.”
“Mysterious?” Charlotte tried to keep the note of intrigue out of her voice, gazing nonchalantly out over the grounds where once a lawn had no doubt been but now was a neat vegetable garden.
“Hmm, yes, he appears out of nowhere a few weeks back, a little after we arrived, with Major Parker having very little warning of his coming, with a budget to renovate the old folly on the other side of the estate for his mission - a folly which no-one else here knew existed until that point.” Charlotte turned back to watch as Lambe took another drag on her cigarette, “And he seems to know all the staff. Not the army personnel, the staff who worked here before it was requisitioned.” She gave her another wink. “So yeah, mysterious… And not unattractive, eh?”
Charlotte snorted, “I’m not in the habit of noticing that about my superior officers…” but the blush on her cheeks rather contradicted her statement.
“Hmm, well honey, you are missing out.” She pronounced the last three syllables with delighted emphasis, grinned and then dropped the stub of her cigarette onto the gravel of the path and twisted her foot over it. “Come on, I hear you have a train to catch…”
—
Xander stared in astonishment at the closed door before finally sitting back in his chair as the sense of shock began to dissipate. She had walked out on him! He had determinedly returned to his reports when she had left the room, forcing himself to continue writing what he had started earlier that afternoon whilst he got his irritation under control. Once he had finished, he clasped his hands behind his head, steeling himself from reaching for the telephone to lift the receiver and place a trunk call to Bletchley Park, asking them what the devil they thought they were doing sending him such an insubordinate member of their ranks, when he needed someone… someone… here he faltered, what did he need?
He ran his hand through his hair once more, exhaling slowly to clear his thoughts. What exactly had muddled them he couldn’t quite put his finger on, though the first glimpse of her expressive eyes had been the start of his unmooring, he was sure of it. The curls framing her face, the tint of her lipstick highlighting her determined mouth, the pink rising on her cheeks… He should not be noticing those things, he chided himself, she was a respected member of SigInt’s renowned cypher-cracking squad and his junior officer.
His lips quirked as he remembered the sarcasm in her response to his dismissive remarks, the smile fading when he recalled her astute observations about Heyrick Park. Marred by the military, indeed, he thought wistfully. Pushing the thought from his head, he rose quickly, remembering his jacket at the last minute and shrugging it on as he made his way down the corridor.
Major Parker’s voice boomed out, so he was forced to stop outside his door, “Met that Heywood girl, Colbourne, expect you offered her the position, eh?”
Xander coughed, in lieu of an answer, and avoided his gaze. “Sir,” he said, nodding and turning to head for the front doors. With any luck, he would catch her.
Seeing no one around he headed for the stable block around the side of the house, although it had been a long while since the horses had been moved out and the unit’s motor cars, trucks and motorcycles had been moved in. One of the cadets in charge of the logbooks looked up as he approached, saying, “Do you need something, sir?”
“Yes, has anyone left to transport a guest into town?” He wanted to avoid asking directly after the junior officer who was supposed to be his responsibility that afternoon, not wishing to draw attention to the fact he did not know whether she had left or not.
The cadet raised an eyebrow, “She left with Petty Officer Lambe, sir, about ten minutes ago.”
A slight heat suffused Xander’s cheeks as he scowled at the cadet, who flushed himself at his superior’s show of displeasure and sat up a bit straighter. “I’ll need to take one of the motorcycles, then…”
“Yes, sir.” The cadet swung around in his seat and reached for the keys, handing them over with a nod. “Not quite a full tank on that one, sir, but will be fine for what you need.”
Xander grabbed his helmet and riding jacket from the peg by the door and swung his leg over the motorbike, starting the engine and immediately moving off from the stableyard in a cloud of dust. He held back on the drive, not wanting to send the gravel flying into the vegetable patches that now lined it, but once he was on the road he opened the throttle and enjoyed the satisfaction of the wind whipping past him. He couldn’t damned well fly, but this was the closest to it that he could get.
He eased off the throttle as he arrived on the outskirts of the town, weaving past parked cars on the approach to the station, including the one that Lambe had driven. He pulled up, leaning the bike into the stand and hitching his helmet on the handlebars by the straps. Noticing the American standing with Heywood on the opposite platform, he walked as nonchalantly as he could to the path over the tracks.
He watched as she leaned in, whatever remark she made making Officer Heywood laugh and then turn her head away to hide her smile. She really is beautiful, he caught himself thinking and shook his head quickly. Lambe gave her a cheery wave and headed back down the platform, passing him with a perfunctory nod. He couldn’t see her once she had passed him, of course, but he saw Heywood look over his shoulder and grin, so he imagined they had exchanged some kind of signal about him. He tried not to think about it.
“Second Officer Heywood, you didn’t wait for my decision.”
He saw her posture straighten, her chin lifting slightly as she replied, “There didn’t seem much point, sir.” She held his gaze, carefully he thought, like a poker player watching their opponent to give them a sign of their tell.
“The position is yours.” Her face blanched, momentarily, and her eyes widened. I’ve surprised her this time, then. “Assuming you still want it?”
“As I said before, I’m here on the orders of my superiors. I will serve where I’m needed.” She briefly looked to the ground, before raising her eyes to him once more, giving him the hint of a smile. “When do we start?”