The Hidden Women: An inspirational novel of sisterhood and strength

‘How old were you?’

He shrugged.

‘About four, perhaps? I loved that plane.’

‘Was that the one Lil brought you?’

‘I always thought my father gave it to me,’ he said. ‘But now I really think about it, I seem to remember Lil bringing it. It’s such a long time ago.’

‘Uniforms and toy planes sound to me like that was our Lil on my list,’ I said.

Dad nodded. ‘That’s what I thought.’

‘Give me a minute,’ I said.

Leaving him in the meeting room, I dashed back to my desk and found the Jack Jones file – now with all the papers back in the correct order.

‘Everything okay?’ Elly said, super-casually.

‘Dad worked with Jack Jones,’ I said, sort of truthfully. Dad had indeed done some music for the TV show Jack had starred in – though he never met the actors as a rule. ‘On that detective thing. He wanted to check something.’

Elly looked dubious but she didn’t say anything.

I took the folder back to the meeting room and showed Dad the list with Lilian Miles on it.

‘So, she flew planes?’ Dad said in awe. ‘Bloody hell.’

I nodded. ‘Amazing, right?’

‘Could you check her records?’

‘Dad,’ I said, in a warning tone.

‘There must be service records,’ he said, not put off by my frown. ‘Surely they’d help us find out if it’s her? We know her date and place of birth; it shouldn’t be hard to cross-reference.’

‘I can’t, Dad,’ I said. ‘It’s completely verboten to do our own research. I could lose my job.’

I grinned at him.

‘You could do it, or Mum. She knows about research. Though it’s expensive to subscribe to some of the databases.’

Dad shook his head. ‘Oh, Nell, you know what we’re like with computers. We just don’t have the skills,’ he said. ‘I’m not bad on the email business but anything more complicated just flummoxes me. I’m no spring chicken.’

I patted his hand reassuringly. ‘You do brilliantly,’ I lied, knowing he was right. He and Mum struggled to work their television.

‘What about if you did it outside work?’

‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘It just feels so wrong because I found the information at work. It’s not right to use company resources for personal searches. I could get into trouble.’

‘Your boss wouldn’t know, Miranda said,’ Dad pointed out.

I shrugged. ‘I can’t,’ I said again. ‘Why are you so interested?’

‘I told you, I just want to know about my family,’ Dad said. But he didn’t meet my eyes when he said it. What was he hiding?

‘There is something we can do, though,’ I said, watching him carefully.

Dad looked hopeful. ‘What?’

‘We could ask her.’

‘Ask her,’ Dad repeated, just as I’d done when Miranda suggested it.

Before I could continue, there was a knock on the door of the meeting room and Fliss stuck her head round, her long blonde hair swinging.

‘Sorry, Helena,’ she said. ‘I thought I’d booked this room?’

Guiltily, I gathered up the Jack Jones papers I’d been showing Dad and smiled. ‘Just an unplanned meeting,’ I said. ‘We’ll get out of your way.’

I went to hustle Dad out of the room, before Fliss realised I’d been mixing up work and personal stuff, but it was too late. She was looking at Dad curiously.

‘Fliss Hopkins,’ she said, holding out her hand for him to shake.

‘Robert Miles.’

She beamed at him. ‘Helena’s father?’

‘Indeed,’ said Dad giving her a dazzling smile. He was such a charmer.

‘I was just going over some Jack Jones research when Dad popped in to see if I was free for lunch,’ I said.

‘But Helena tells me she is far too busy to join me, so I will bid you farewell,’ Dad said smoothly making me wonder if he’d always been such a good liar.

‘Nice to meet you,’ said Fliss.

She stood back to let us leave the room then entered herself, leaving the door open.

‘Let me think about it,’ I said as I showed Dad to the lift, hoping Fliss hadn’t realised I had been showing Dad my Jack Jones research and that she didn’t decide to have a look at it herself. ‘I can’t search Lil’s records, not without putting my job at risk, but I’ll have a think about what else we can do.’

Dad kissed me goodbye. ‘Thanks, Helena,’ he said. ‘It means a lot to me.’

Chapter 7 (#ulink_ea0c4447-8c2f-5a25-9054-c9deeb90b746)

Lilian

September 1939

I cycled as slowly as I could through the village, wobbling on my bike because I wasn’t going fast enough to keep my balance.