Under a Sky on Fire - Suzanne Kelman Page 0,16

you’re the best they have down there. I’m sure you’ll do fine,’ he added, encouragingly.

Taking a document from a file, he started to ask her a number of questions. Many she’d been through in her first security check a year before. Questions such as: did she have any family that had ties to the IRA or was she affiliated with any pro-German societies, or did she have German relatives? As she answered them all, a little bemused, he looked at her attentively for each response as though checking carefully that she was telling him the truth.

Finishing the questions, he made a mark on the form and then asked her to sit at a typewriter at a small desk in the corner where he instructed her to type a letter copied from another written document. He started a stopwatch and Julia began typing. It was a straightforward letter of request, something similar to those she had to type every day. As she finished it, she rolled it out and handed it to him.

After that he tested her shorthand skills, which she was the most nervous about, because it wasn’t her greatest strength, then Mr Woodbridge asked her to add another sheet of paper to the typewriter. She did as she was told and noted that her hand was still shaking as she rolled the barrel and wedged the paper down inside. Julia wished she knew what this was about. He then dictated a letter at quite a rapid speed, but Julia kept up with ease. Transcription was one of her strengths, and her mind was able to process well ahead of her fingers, so she never really had to stop and ask him to repeat anything. He spoke for about three minutes and then stopped. As he reached his hand towards her, she rolled out the paper, and he reviewed everything for a few minutes that felt like an eternity.

She sat there, apprehensively chewing on her cheek. Nothing to keep her attention but the movement of the black Gothic hands and the thrum of the large mahogany wall clock as it ticked methodically, the faint smell of polish from the wood of the desk, and the constant buzz of the traffic outside. He finished reading, took off his glasses and beamed. ‘I think you’ll do fine,’ he said. ‘You’re definitely very fast. Mrs Hathaway was right.’ He took out a stamp and stamped the three pieces of paper and added them to a file. ‘If you could go back to Mrs Hathaway, she’ll furnish you with the details of your new assignment. Tell her you passed the test with flying colours.’

Julia acknowledged his words with a little frustration that she still didn’t know what this was all about. As she stood to leave, she was aware her whole body was trembling. At the door he called out to her.

‘Julia.’

She turned.

‘Thank you for all your hard work, I’m glad you’re on our side.’

She allowed herself a small smile.

When she got back down to her own floor, she went straight to Mrs Hathaway’s office. Most of the girls were still having their lunch and her supervisor was halfway through a sandwich when Julia knocked and entered the room. Mrs Hathaway swivelled around in her chair and beckoned to Julia when she saw who it was. ‘Come on in, Julia. How did it go?’

‘He said to tell you I passed with flying colours.’

Mrs Hathaway looked relieved. ‘I knew you wouldn’t let me down. Sit down.’ Her boss placed her sandwich down on her desk and, wiping crumbs from the corner of her lips with a tissue, she became quite animated, almost excited. ‘Julia, we’ve had a request from the top. For someone with impeccable character and with high skills to move downstairs into Mr Churchill’s war rooms. He is losing one of his main secretaries down there.’

Julia swallowed, beginning to understand what she was suggesting. Was Mrs Hathaway telling her she was going to be working with Mr Churchill himself in the war rooms? ‘It’s an honour,’ continued her supervisor, ‘and you’ll be greatly needed during the war. You should be very proud that you’ve been chosen to do this work. There’s one thing we need to consider though, Julia. This work will not be easy. You’ll work very long hours, sometimes into the evening and maybe even through the night. How is your situation at home? You have children, don’t you?’ Julia nodded. ‘Well, I think that you need to think very seriously

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