Winter on the Mersey(18)

Kitty realised the young woman’s dilemma and instantly sought to put her at her ease. ‘Don’t worry, there’s no reason you should know,’ she said hastily. ‘Thank you for telling me. I’ll go through right now.’ She beamed at the clerk to allay any remaining nerves and the young woman’s face brightened, before she scurried back to her desk.

Kitty squared her shoulders and knocked on the old oak door separating the most senior officer from the rest of the crowd and the ever-present noise of the telephone operators.

‘Come.’

Kitty went in.

Superintendent Knowles looked up from her impressive desk, which had once graced the local bank. The deputy manager had signed up for duty with the navy even though he hadn’t needed to go, and his wife had been so upset that she could not bear to have his desk returned to their home. She had offered it to the Wrens and Superintendent Knowles had eagerly accepted. It lent the little office some dignity – and a huge amount of paperwork could be stored in its capacious drawers.

‘At ease,’ she said at once, as Kitty stood smartly before her. ‘Let’s not stand on formality, Callaghan. Kitty. Sit down and do have a biscuit.’ She pushed a beautiful rose-patterned china plate across the highly polished desktop, and Kitty was astonished to see it held a variety of biscuits such as she hadn’t seen since the beginning of the war.

‘A perk of the job,’ said Knowles.

‘Thank you very much,’ said Kitty, sitting down as instructed, and helping herself to a bourbon. If she had been slightly worried before, she was completely confused now. She had always had a good working relationship with Knowles, but nothing had ever hinted at anything closer, still less anything informal. She wondered what was coming next.

‘Oh, take two,’ said Knowles. ‘That’s the spirit. Now, Kitty, are you happy here?’

Kitty couldn’t stop her eyebrows from rising a little. ‘Well, yes. Of course,’ she said.

‘Excellent,’ said Knowles. ‘I’d expect nothing else from you. You clearly have a firm grip of your job and everything it entails, and you have also shone in your role of coaching the younger members of our unit.’

‘Thank you,’ said Kitty, still none the wiser about what was going on.

‘How do you feel about that final part of your work?’ Knowles wanted to know. ‘The training aspect, I mean?’

Kitty thought for a moment. ‘I enjoy it,’ she said. Then, ‘No, more than that, I love it. It gives me enormous pleasure to see someone come in fresh from initial training but not really knowing what to do when the pressure starts to build, and watch her change into a fully competent operator who can cope with anything. It’s more than a pleasure, it’s a privilege, ma’am.’

Knowles nodded, as if she’d anticipated nothing less. ‘That is good to know, Kitty. In fact it is exactly what I predicted you would say.’

‘Oh,’ said Kitty, at a loss for words. Predicted to whom, she wondered.

Knowles sat forward and clasped her hands on the beautiful old wooden desktop. ‘You see, Kitty, I have been asked to recommend one of my Wrens for a highly sensitive training position,’ she said. ‘It requires someone who is accurate and discreet, obviously; someone, in fact, who has immense and meticulous attention to detail. It also needs someone who can bring on others to the highest level, and to do so quickly. It is a position of great responsibility. Lives will be at stake; there can be no slip-ups.’ She paused to let her words sink in. ‘The first person I thought of was you,’ she concluded.

‘Me?’ said Kitty.

Knowles nodded gravely, all pleasant friendliness gone. ‘Yes, you, Miss Callaghan. You are one of the finest telephone operators I have worked with. Your work is impeccable, and besides that you go above and beyond what is asked of you. You work long hours and extra shifts with no complaint, you are encouraging but firm with the less experienced Wrens, and you are never, but never, known to gossip. That would be essential in this new position.’

Kitty blinked, delighted with the compliments and flattered that all her hard work had been noticed. ‘Thank you,’ she said again.

Knowles looked at her seriously. ‘So now, I need you to consider this carefully. It would require a move away from this unit.’

Kitty nodded, and a treacherous little thought formed in her head. Maybe it would be back to London. She could see more of Laura. They could go out together and she would be on hand for when Captain Cavendish went back to his ship. She could distract Laura and Laura could take her to all the places she’d known before the war …

‘I know all you girls enjoy the fresh air and less frantic pace of life here beside the sea,’ Knowles went on.

Kitty kept her face from showing her real feelings – that she would far rather be somewhere livelier with more going on.

‘I am afraid this post is in a major city,’ Knowles said, as if this was a point against it.

‘I see,’ said Kitty carefully, while trying not to build up her hopes. How good it would be to be back with Laura, if not exactly recreating the days of their training, then at least being close to someone who understood everything she’d gone through.

‘I realise it would be a disappointment to leave this beautiful countryside,’ Knowles went on, ‘and of course to be in such a city would mean being back in danger of a potential attack from the enemy. While it can never be ruled out anywhere, urban or rural, it is my duty to warn you that this place has been the target of much bombing in the past.’