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Germany thought Enigma was unbreakable. They were wrong.
the fairy-tale union of Princess Elizabeth Alexandra Mary and her handsome Lieutenant Philip Mountbatten (formerly Prince Philip of Greece) would mark the dawn of a new age,
These have knelled your fall and ruin, but your ears were far away—English lassies rustling papers through the sodden Bletchley day!
Three girls during a war, she thought. Once the best of friends. Until D-Day, the fatal day, when they had splintered apart and become two girls who couldn’t stand the sight of each other, and one who had disappeared into a madhouse.
She lived in a house of the mad, where truth became madness and madness, truth.
I’m inside the clock now, she thought. Where everything runs backward and no one will ever believe a word I say.
Except—maybe—the two women she had betrayed, who had betrayed her, who had once been her friends.
Pl...
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Believe me.
She’d grown up fifth of six children all crammed together in this cramped flat that smelled of fried onions and regret, a toilet that had to be shared with two other families—she’d be damned if she’d ever be ashamed of it, but she’d be doubly damned if it was enough.
A good husband might have been the fastest way up the ladder toward safety and prosperity, but it wasn’t the only way. Better to live an old maid with a shiny desk and a salary
in the bank, proudly achieved through the sweat of her own efforts, than end up disappointed and old before her time thanks to long factory hours and too much childbirth.
