Chapter 11

I miss you, Os. I miss you a shocking lot, to be honest.

Philip’s handwriting was clear, no flourishes. Seeing it always made Osla’s heart thump. Shut up, heart, she scolded.

“Mrs. F’s really having a go. ” Mab was eavesdropping unashamedly downstairs, head poked into the dark landing. Beth’s first shift at Bletchley Park had been today, right after her interview, and Mrs. Finch had been twitching. Now Beth was back, not that they could hear her. Just her mother’ s insistent voice, quoting something from the Bible about For son treats father contemptuously, daughter rises up against her mother—

“Should we pop down? ” Osla looked up from the bed where she was curled rereading Philip’s old letters. “Interject various patriotic things like ‘Let your daughter work, you meddling cow, there’s a war on’? ”

“We’ll only make things worse, ” Mab said. “Mrs. F’s on Ezekiel now. ”

Gnawing her lip, Osla turned back to Philip’s salt-stained letter from May. Being transferred to the Kent when I was just getting used to the Ramillies; that was a bit of a letdown. None of the ratings here are all that keen on having royalty aboard, even third-rate royalty like me. You should have seen the eyes rolling when I first came on. Whisper is we’re off to hunt for some action soon. Don’t worry, darling girl—

He hadn’t seen any action with the Kent, but now he was being transferred again, to her sister ship—who knew where it would take him? Osla shivered. U-boat wolf packs roaming the sea, and of course he'd want to charge right into the thick. . .

“Here she comes, ” Mab whispered as Beth’s footsteps came up the stairs. Osla slid off the bed, tucking Philip’s letter into her copy of Through the Looking-Glass. When Beth appeared on the landing, Osla and Mab whisked her into their room and shut the door.

“Well? ” Osla checked Beth’s arms—no bruises, thank goodness. “Your mother can’t refuse, surely! You know, I thought it might take longer when I put your name in. Sometimes the vetting takes weeks—”

“So you did recommend me. ” Beth’s voice was flat.

“Yes. ” Osla smiled. “I thought you might need an excuse to get out of the house—”

“You thought. ” Osla had never heard Beth interrupt anyone, but she cut Osla off now. Her cheeks flared scarlet. “You know what I think? I think I wanted to be left alone. I think I want my mother not to be angry with me, or make me hold the Bible up for twenty minutes. What I don’t want is a job with strange people doing work I don’t understand. ”

“We were just as lost the first few weeks, ” Mab reassured. “You’ll get the hang of it. We were just trying to—”

“You want me to grow a spine. ” Beth’s imitation of Mab’s voice was savage. “But maybe you two should have thought that somebody like me—someone perfectly, hopelessly Fanny Price—would have been happy to stay home where she belongs. ”

She whirled out of the room. Her bedroom door banged a moment later. Mab and Osla looked at each other, stunned.

“I should have asked before I put her name up. ” Osla sank down on the bed. “I shouldn’t have stuck my nose in. ”

“You didn’t mean to—”

“—boss her about like her mother does? ”

Mab sighed.

Dear Philip, Osla thought. I have, if you will pardon the phrase, made a royal muff of things.

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