The Codebreakers

by Alli Sinclair

‘Exactly.’ His tone grew in confidence. ‘So why would I want to be with someone who doesn’t respect me enough to tell the truth? I’ve always been honest.’

  ‘Have you, though, really?’ she asked.

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘What about when you were sixteen and Robert was courting Anna Fitzgerald.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And after Robert broke up with Anna you saw her in secret before Robert found you out.’

  ‘I was a teenager. I like to think I have more integrity as an adult.’

  ‘What about being honest with yourself? You knew it wasn’t working with Maude yet you chose to believe everything was fine. To be blunt, you were lying to yourself.’ She waited but he said nothing, so she pushed further. ‘Sometimes there are situations where the truth can harm.’

  ‘Like?’

  Ellie’s mind whirred into gear. ‘If you had to keep a secret that could potentially hurt others or put them in danger.’

  ‘The truth is the truth, no matter what.’

  ‘But there’s a difference between secrets and lies.’

  ‘How? Maude lied to me about wanting to fix our marriage and she secretly kept in contact with that Dutchman. See? Lies and secrets hurt. They’re exactly the same.’

  No matter what she said right now, Louis wouldn’t change his mind. Besides, this was some mighty thin ice she’d stepped onto.

  ‘Are you going to be all right?’ she asked quietly.

  Louis looked to the ceiling and groaned. ‘Sure. I always am.’ He focussed back on Ellie. ‘Beer?’

  ‘You betcha.’

  She went to the icebox and pulled out a large bottle then brought two glasses over to the table. Louis set about pouring them each a glass. He handed one over and she took a long sip. They’d both earned this today.

  Ellie eased the plane through the sky, happiness rushing through her veins. Her hands reached for the controls, her keen eyes taking in potential danger. Flying was now like breathing and when she wasn’t in the air, she was dreaming about it, counting down to the next lesson. And here she was, sitting her flight test.

  The Examiner of Airmen gave instructions and she diligently obeyed. She’d already completed two circuits, with two touch-and-goes on the airstrip and now she was on her third go-around and expected to perform a short airfield landing.

  Every nerve was on alert. She could not fail. It had taken eighteen months of scrimping and saving, studying until her eyes glazed over and sacrificing her social life to get to this point.

  She took the aircraft through a smooth series of turns, climbs and descents. Then a stall recovery. As the aircraft’s nose pitched down, she applied power and adjusted the controls, relieved to see they’d barely lost height.

  When the examiner reached across and pulled the engine to idle, she automatically trimmed the aircraft for the best glide speed, scanning for a suitable place to safely complete a practice forced landing. She spotted a field and manoeuvred to fly an approach. Her palms sweated. Self-doubt muscled in. Down to five hundred feet and the fences grew bigger. She was close to the ground. Too close?

  The examiner hit the button and re-applied power. She pitched the nose up and commenced a climb to regain altitude.

  ‘Once we’re at circuit height you can return to airfield,’ he said.

  Ellie adjusted the settings and turned the nose towards home. Her poker-faced examiner had fallen silent once more.

  Ellie guided the plane back to the runway. She checked the controls and tried to relax her body to allow for a smooth landing. The plane descended. It shook. She used less force. Smooth. Breathe. Concentrate.

  The runway.

  So close.

  The plane steadied.

  The wheels touched.

  Light as a feather.

  Home again.

  Ellie taxied to the hangar, went about her checks and exited the plane. The examiner still hadn’t said a word. Instead, he went into the office and spoke with Gerard. From Ellie’s vantage point she could see the men in deep conversation, occasionally glancing in her direction.

  She shoved her hands in her pockets and focussed on the airfield outside. Who would have thought seven years ago she would have left Longreach to work as a mechanical engineer for Qantas Empire Airways? That it would lead her to the most rewarding and excruciating job she had ever done—Central Bureau. And now, after feeling at a loss for so long, she had found something she loved and wanted to do with all her heart.

  Ellie glanced at the two men again. More talking. The suspense was killing her. She had to look away.

  ‘Miss O’Sullivan.’

  Ellie turned to find Gerard and the examiner walking towards her. She’d already passed the theoretical a week ago and that had felt much harder than the practical. Although her nerves today meant she couldn’t rely on herself as a good judge of how she’d truly performed.

  ‘Congratulations. You’ve passed.’ The examiner held out his hand and shook hers. Gerard grinned like a proud parent.

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘It was perfect, Miss O’Sullivan.’

  Ellie couldn’t close her mouth.

  ‘I’m a pilot?’ she whispered then said a little louder, ‘I’m a pilot?’

  Both men nodded and she squealed and jumped up and down.

  ‘I’m a pilot!’ she yelled.

  ‘Yes, Miss O’Sullivan, you are now a pilot,’ said Gerard. ‘Go forth and fly.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Ellie floated on a cloud of delight. She left the airfield in a daze, clutching the paperwork that was the culmination of hard work, belief in herself and support from Louis and Mrs Hanley. She took her regular two buses and walked the last part of her journey home. The sun felt more radiant, the blue sky brighter, and the flowers and trees lusher and more fragrant. Never in her life had she felt so good.

  Her path took her close to Louis’s place and she hesitated, stopping on the corner of his street. Since Maude had left for the last time a few months ago, Ellie had barely seen him. Of course, he was busy flying to London and back and was rarely home, but the final break-up with Maude had sent him scurrying into his shell. Occasionally she’d drop around a dinner prepared by Mrs Hanley but she never stayed. The next day Louis would drop a thank-you note in Mrs Hanley’s mailbox but he never knocked on the door.

  She missed her friend greatly, but he needed to work through this alone. Just like Ellie had done when Harry had chosen not to return to Australia. Friends and family, no matter how well-intentioned they were, couldn’t relieve the grief and pain of a relationship ending. But Mrs Hanley’s scones always helped.

  Ellie smiled, wondering how many times Mrs Hanley had baked a batch of sympathy scones to help someone though a rough patch.

  She turned towards home and arrived at the house. Mrs Hanley was in the kitchen, washing bowls and cutlery.

  She turned to Ellie. ‘How did you go?’

  Ellie grinned.

  Mrs Hanley dried her hands on the tea towel and placed it on the bench. ‘You passed?’

  ‘With flying colours, pardon the pun.’

  ‘Oh, my darling girl!’ Mrs Hanley rushed over to Ellie and held her tight. ‘I am so proud of you.’

  ‘I need you to do me a favour.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Put on your glad rags. I’m taking you somewhere special.’

  ‘Oh, no, no. Save your money.’

  Ellie reached for Mrs Hanley’s hand. ‘You have always been here for me, even in my darkest moments when I haven’t been so loveable. You’ve helped my friends when they needed the love of a parent. Please let me show my gratitude.’ Mrs Hanley opened her mouth then closed it when Ellie put up her hand. ‘I am not taking no for an answer.’

  ‘Well, if you insist.’ Mrs Hanley darted down the hallway and closed her bedroom door.

  Ellie went to her room, shed her trousers and shirt and changed into a floral dress and stockings. She ran her hands over
the silk on her legs, taken back to the time when she and Kat had painted each other’s legs with make-up and drawn black lines to imitate seams. They’d laughed and hadn’t cared about what they didn’t have, they were simply grateful to have a roof over their head and food on their plate, and to be surrounded by love.

  She sat on the bed, the thick mattress dipping beneath her. An envelope toppled from the pillow.

  Ellie opened the letter and read:

  23 March 1948

  To the sister of my heart,

  Once again, as promised, I’m returning these sheets to you with my words on them. I hope you are well and embracing life. I’m happy to report things have improved immensely since I arrived here two years ago. Can you believe it’s been that long?

  Leonard is everything I could ever wish for in a man. He’s been terribly understanding and has weathered my emotional ups and downs, especially when I get so homesick. Which, I will add, is lessening as time wears on. It’s strange to think how even though the British have influenced both countries, America and Australia are poles apart. I still can’t get used to the lingo but Leonard’s fourteen-year-old sister helps me. She is such a doll and still holds my hand when we’re out and about, like she’s afraid I’ll get lost. My mother-in-law tried to make scones this week but it was an absolute disaster. I don’t think she’s ever tasted them in her life! But the fact she tried to make something to remind me of home was very thoughtful. His father still doesn’t talk much but every now and then he gives me a nod of approval. Well, I take it that way, even if I’m wrong!

  Chicago has become a city I adore. Ellie, you would fall in love with it, too. There’s so much interesting history but people still find it difficult to understand my accent! There are some Australian brides who live near me and we’ve started meeting regularly. It’s nice to hear the Australian accent and not have to translate things, like an Aussie biscuit is an American cookie!

  There’s one last thing I must tell you and you are the very first person to know. Well, aside from Leonard and his family. We’re expecting! Can you believe it? I’m going to be a mother! I’m scared and excited and homesick all rolled into one. I wish you were here with me, my beautiful friend, and I hope one day you get to meet my child. Or children!

  Please don’t tell Mrs Hanley just yet. I’ll write her in a day or two. I know secrets are something you hate but if you can do this for me, just this once, I’d be forever grateful.

  Anyway, I must dash as I need to lie down. This first trimester has taken a lot out of me and I haven’t been keeping my food down. Leonard swears it’s a girl. Regardless of what we’re having we know this baby is going to be loved.

  Please write soon as I want to live vicariously through you now a baby is on the way and I have to be all grown up. Have some adventures for me!

  Until next time, with all my love,

  Kat

  Ellie put down the letter. Kat’s news was absolutely brilliant. She’d make a wonderful mother and Ellie was so pleased. She didn’t mind being asked to keep quiet because this was Kat’s news to share how she wanted. However, being asked to keep another secret just reminded Ellie of the weight of the other secrets she carried around every day.

  A gentle knock at the door brought her attention back into the room.

  ‘Ellie? Are you ready?’

  ‘Yes, yes.’ She quickly fixed her lipstick in the mirror and re-pinned her hair. Ellie met Mrs Hanley on the verandah. ‘Let’s go for our fancy afternoon tea of sandwiches, cakes and—dare I say—a tipple or two?’

  Mrs Hanley laughed and covered her mouth. ‘You are a bad influence, Miss O’Sullivan.’

  ‘Glad to hear it.’

  Ellie and Mrs Hanley got off the tram on Stanley Street and walked into the Brisbane Arcade. The zigzag grey-and-white polished concrete tiles and art deco stained-glass panels welcomed them.

  ‘Last time I was here the basement was an air-raid shelter,’ said Mrs Hanley. ‘My, times have changed.’

  ‘And for the better.’ Ellie and Mrs Hanley climbed the stairs to the Rendezvous Café. She opened the door. ‘Madam.’

  ‘Why, thank you.’ The smile hadn’t left Mrs Hanley’s lips since Ellie had suggested they go out somewhere nice.

  A waiter greeted them and showed them to a table on the balcony overlooking the street. They placed their order and a small teapot for each of them arrived. Shortly after, a three-tiered plate was placed between them with an array of delicate sandwiches and beautifully crafted cakes and biscuits in pinks, yellows, greens and blues.

  ‘This is wonderful.’ Mrs Hanley took a bite of a cucumber sandwich. ‘So deliciously fresh.’

  Ellie poured her tea and took a sip. The flavours of honey and cinnamon danced across her tongue. ‘Excellent.’

  ‘Thank you so much for this.’

  Ellie reached across the table and held Mrs Hanley’s hand. ‘It’s the least I can do. You’ve always been so kind to me. I don’t know how I would have got through half the things I did without you by my side.’

  ‘My darling Ellie, you would have found a way. You’re a strong woman with a big heart.’

  ‘Sometimes I wonder about the heart,’ she said.

  Mrs Hanley dabbed her mouth with the linen serviette. ‘I have no doubt that one day you will find the right man for you. I guess we were all wrong about Harry.’

  ‘I guess.’

  ‘Did you ever send that letter to his sister?’

  ‘I sent many. Although it was a waste of time. The last one I sent was six months ago and I haven’t heard a thing. Either she didn’t pass it on or he’s chosen to ignore me.’

  ‘Or maybe they never arrived.’

  ‘Maybe,’ she said.

  ‘What are you going to do now you have your licence?’ asked Mrs Hanley.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Mrs Hanley put down her half-eaten sandwich and gave her best motherly ‘pay attention’ look. ‘I’ve held off saying this because you were saving your money and studying so hard.’ She took a sip of tea. ‘I hope you will be with me for a little longer, but you need to get on with your life. Staying with me has become a safety net and it’s not healthy.’

  ‘Are you saying I should go back to Longreach?’

  ‘I’m not going to dictate where you should go. I just feel that you’ve shut yourself off from possibilities.’

  ‘No, I haven’t.’

  ‘Really? When was the last time you went out with your friends?’

  ‘I’ve been saving for my flight lessons and I’ve had to study and—’

  ‘You could easily do things that don’t cost money. What about a Sunday stroll along the river?’

  ‘All the women I work with have a fiancé or they’re seeing someone. I don’t want to be the third wheel.’

  ‘I am sure these couples don’t spend twenty-four hours a day in each other’s pockets. One of the greatest joys in life is spending time with girlfriends and you don’t do enough of that.’

  During the war she’d adored living and working with her Garage Girls. Being surrounded by impressive, warm and caring women had been inspirational and kept Ellie going on the tough days. Had she deliberately blocked herself from forming deep friendships like this again because it hurt too much to say goodbye? Is that why she kept Jane and the other women at Mossman’s at a distance—friendly but not best friends?

  Unsettled by this thought, Ellie grumbled, ‘Life’s not all about being social.’

  ‘No, it isn’t, and a good day’s work is excellent for the soul. However, you use it to avoid facing things.’

  ‘Like?’

  ‘Like making decisions about your future,’ said Mrs Hanley.

  Ellie wanted to lay her head on the table and groan. She’d invited Mrs Hanley for a pleasant afternoon tea and it had turned into a lecture. She might as well have invited her father.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Mrs Hanley. ‘I shouldn’t push. Anyone would think I was your mother.’
>
  ‘It’s because you care,’ Ellie said, instantly forgiving her. ‘It’s nice that you do.’

  ‘I should keep my opinions to myself, though. I guess once a mother always a mother, even when your children are no longer on this earth.’

  ‘I might not always like what you have to say but I do know it comes from the heart. And’—she rolled her eyes—‘you are usually right.’

  Mrs Hanley looked over the teacup. ‘You really are the daughter I never had.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Her heart felt heavy and a desire to speak to her own mother overcame her.

  ‘You should call them, no matter the cost.’

  ‘How did you know I was thinking about my parents?’

  Mrs Hanley raised her eyebrows. ‘We’ve known each other a long time, my dear.’ She put her cup down and nodded in the direction of a room covered by a purple velvet curtain. ‘Shall we?’

  ‘Get our tea leaves read?’ Ellie looked at the bottom of her cup where a cluster of tea leaves now sat in an odd formation. ‘Surely you don’t believe in it.’

  Mrs Hanley shrugged. ‘I take it with a grain of salt, though I can tell you that many of my friends have had their leaves read and it has been spot on.’

  ‘Lucky guesses,’ said Ellie.

  ‘Why are you afraid?’

  ‘I’m not afraid.’ Her tone was defensive.

  ‘I dare you.’

  ‘Pardon?’

  Mrs Hanley placed her palms on the table and stared Ellie down. ‘I dare you to get your tea leaves read.’

  Ellie laughed, not having seen this side of Mrs Hanley before. ‘Fine. I’ll do it.’

  ‘Good.’ She leaned back and crossed her arms. ‘You might be surprised.’

  ‘I doubt it.’ Ellie stood and took her teacup over to the room. The curtain opened and a small woman of about sixty beckoned her to enter. The room was lit by a single kerosene lamp and an array of photographs of people from last century adorned the walls.

  ‘My ancestors,’ the woman said with a thick accent. ‘They are of gitano heritage.’

  Ellie had heard the word gitano before—didn’t it mean gypsy?

  ‘You do not need to be nervous,’ the woman said. ‘Sit.’