The Spy, The Lover and the Husband

My wonderful father died towards the end of the covid lockdowns in London. He had had a major stroke and was bedbound, I wished we had spent more time with him before the end but as most people did they stayed away to prevent the spread.

I had organised the very best care possible for him and moved into his house to help as best I could. They had us late in life and I was their first in 1963, so I was still young enough to help where I could. Mum was in her late thirties and forties for all of us so we never knew our parents as young.

We had nurses every 6 hours to help change and wash him because he wouldn't have liked me doing it, he was a proud man.

My mum had died 15 years previous so he had lived alone from the age of 84 to 99, he almost made 100 but he had a wonderful life.

He was a young dashing R.A.F. pilot when he met mum, they had gone through so much together and when she passed it almost killed him then. But he had 4 children and 17 grandkids and 6 great grandkids who adored him and he put on that brave face for us, he was a kind man but grew very old very fast after mum had died.

I had the sad job of going through all of the old boxes in the attic to sort out his affairs, my brother and two sisters helped but they were not that good, Mary just cried constantly and Billy was hopeless. My youngest sibling Alice (named after mum) was my best friend, she was 13 years younger than me but for some reason we got on the best of all of us.

The old photo's made us reminisce of better times when we were kids, old holidays and Christmas. It took days to go through them all and I took boxes home with me because I couldn't stand to be in their empty house without them.

Over the next few weeks while sorting out the funeral and death certificates I came across a beautiful locked ornamental box about 12 x 8 inches. I had never seen it before and I searched and searched but it had no key, it felt wrong to break it open but I did it as carefully as I could. Inside I found old photo's a couple of writing books, maps, a compass and what looked like codes scribbled on notepads. There was also an envelope with a key labelled "safe" with the code on it, dad never had a safe so that was a puzzle?

There were photos of my mum when she was about 20, she was standing with man who looked like a farmer and he had his arm around her. She was lovingly looking into his eyes in others.

One of the writing books looked like a diary, it was all in my mums handwriting the other was full of names and numbers, some were people in Europe, Belgium, Holland and Italy. Mum and dad didn't know anyone there so that was another puzzle?

I put the kettle on and sat reading mum's diary, it felt like I was invading her privacy at the start but it was wonderful. I had a window into the past that she had never talked of. I was in floods of tears as I read it and it dated right back to 1939.

It was like reading pages from another world. She was nearly 18 and still just a girl but had the written the words of a forty year old, the page was dated January 17th 1939 and detailed her trip into London for the interview of her first real job.

My mum painted a picture of old London and the exciting steam train in words, she had got off at Waterloo and walked over the bridge to Whitehall. Her job was to be with the war office, (she had never spoken of any of this to me). I would have loved these old stories of her early life, why had she kept this a secret?

She got the job and started the next day, it was as a secretary to an advisor to an Admiral Hennessey. The pay was Two pounds and ten shillings per week which was a lot in those days.

The pages were all of dull days until 3rd April 1939 when an entry talked of making tea for a mystery man and the Admiral. Mum wrote of the man making her feel weak at the knees he was so handsome.

Admiral Hennessey had taken quite a shine to her over those months working in the office and he even knew her name which was more than most there.

"Alice, when we are done here will you drop whatever you are on and come back here please."

"Yes Sir."

When she knocked at his office door she was invited in and introduced to a man she was later to know as Mr. Winston Churchill the future P.M.

This was intriguing, mum and dad had never spoken of any of this, and here I am reading that my mum had met CHURCHILL!!

I couldn't turn the pages quick enough, the next dozen pages had been ripped out "FUCK!"

The next readable page was dated August 5th 1939, two months were missing. I searched through the box looking for them, I was distraught trying to find them. I came across a dainty gold chain with a wedding ring and another key attached to it hidden at the bottom of the box in a false compartment. This was getting curiouser and curiouser.

My tea had gone cold, I glanced at the living room clock I had been sitting there for three hours.

Ben came in from work at 6pm and I could not wait to tell him of my discoveries. My kids had long flew the nest so it was just me and him here now. We got mum's box out again and I spread it all on the kitchen table, we went through it together.

Ben turned the pages through the code book and looked up saying

"Sally, this looks like weird shit! Why would your mum have these?"

"Ben look at this!"

It was a wedding certificate from 1940 tucked inside the other handbook to a man named Harry Taylor to Alice Jones, Jones was her maiden name it was my mum?

"Ben, what the fuck is all this about?"

"I think we need to take your dads house apart love. I mean floor boards, everything. It looks like your mum seems to have had a secret life!"

"Mum was married before?"

"It looks like it yes."

"She couldn't have been, I'd have known....wouldn't I?.....what do we tell the others?"

"Nothing yet Sal, let's look into it all first."

I hardly slept at all that night and straight after the school run with my grandkids I was in dads house going through it with a fine tooth comb. I was looking at anywhere that could hide anything, there was nothing plus where was this safe?

I had my torch and clambered through the attic again and I found another two filthy boxes full of paperwork hidden under a pile of insulation. Back home I dusted it all off and started my detective work, one was full of documents from a solicitors in Deptford south London. The other had more photos and documents, plus six really old passports. Four had my mother under different names one had this man Harry and the last one was my dad's, they were all ancient. There were also more pictures of this Harry.

"What the fuck was going on?"

I rang my husband at work to please come home, he couldn't but said I should try the solicitors phone number.

"Hello, Andersons Solicitors can I help you?"

"Oh hi, I wondered if I could talk to someone about Mrs Alice Johnstone's affairs. I am her daughter and I have found lots of documents sent from your office."

"Do you have a reference number there please? it should be top right of the page."

"Yes I have it its AJ16007345, is that any good?"

"Yes, give me a second and I'll get it up."

There was a long silence,

"Hello are you still there?"

"Yes, who am I talking too, did you say you are the daughter? Your name please."

"Sally, Sally Harriet Jackson."

"Can I call you Sally?....Sally, yes I have a file here under her name but it is security locked to me. Can I look into this and have someone ring you back please?"

The phone went dead before I could answer, I dialled Ben back again.

"Ben, Ben come home. Something is very wrong here!"

Two hours later as I was going through what had happened with him the phone rang,

"Mrs Sally Jackson?"

"Yes."

"Hello, I am Anthony Ashford. I work for the M.O.D. have you got five minutes?"

"What is this about?"

"It's about Alice Johnstone, your mother."

I put the phone on speaker so Ben could hear too, Mr Ashford told us about how my mum had worked for them years ago and that we should come in to have a chat.

I sat stunned for ages, my mum had lied to me all my life. I really never knew her, did my dad know she had worked for the military?

The week dragged by until our appointment with Mr Ashford in London, I still hadn't told my brother or sisters and the secret was killing me. I couldn't until I knew what was what.

Saturday morning and we were on our way down Whitehall walking towards the monument. The young lady at the desk of the building we had entered told us to sit and we would be seen soon. Another young lady came and introduced herself as Beth asking us to follow her. She led us through a large double doorway into a grand hall with dozens of doors off of it.

"Please sit here and Mr Ashford will be with you shortly, would you like tea, coffee?" She walked off through one of the endless doorways.

A distinguished man pushing a trolley with a few cups a teapot and sandwiches came by 10 minutes later,

Mr and Mrs Jackson, would you follow me please?"

He led us to another room and offered us two chairs to sit in and put the tea tray on the desk.

"Hello, I am Anthony Ashford. Pleased to meet you."

After the introductions he reached into a draw in his desk and slid over two forms at us.

"These need to be signed for before we can continue I am afraid."

"What!"

"You must sign before I am allowed to proceed, they are OSA forms. Official Secrets Act."

"Sorry, what are you going on about, we are here about my mum?"

"Yes I know."

He again slid them towards us, "Sign please, if you want answers."

Ben and myself looked at each other quizzically, "Sign it Sally." He said.

I picked up the pen and signed handing it to Ben, we slid them back to him and he looked them over tucking them into a folder.

"Right, let's get to it shall we."

He took another folder from his desk marked with a red top secret on the top. It was like we had somehow strolled onto a movie set, what on earth was going on here.

He looked it over and said,

"Alice Springfield, I take it you know nothing of this?"

"Springfield? Who is Alice Springfield? My mum was Alice Johnstone."

He looked across his desk to us and spoke softly "Mrs Jackson, there is a lot you do not know about your mum, she was a hero."

He took out another object from his desk it was a tray of paperwork and ribbons, under the ribbons were ten shiny medals.

"These are yours, your mother was awarded these for services to the crown."

I sat motionless, shocked and unable to speak until muttering, "There must be some mistake?"

"No mistake I assure you, your mother Alice Springfield, later Johnstone among other names is held in the highest regard here. There is much you do not know. I know this is a shock, please drink your tea, sugar?"

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We came out of there finding my mum was a war hero, she had been a spy in WW2 and had married a Belgium national to take his name. We had an address of a private bank in Lambeth to visit on Monday with our Vault key and code that were in the box at home.

Saturday night at home was strange, you would have thought we wouldn't be able to shut up about our day but we both sat quiet most of the evening. Sunday was our day of questions, how would we tell my siblings, the answer was I couldn't. The OSA form meant it stayed with me to the grave like my mum and dad had done.

We decided sod that, once we had been to the bank and assessed the situation we would make the choice to tell or not.

Monday in the bank we were shown to the vaults and took ours from the huge wall of boxes. We were ushered to a room to open it in private, I was hesitant on opening it afraid of what I might find inside. Ben took the key from me, turned the lock and entered the code.

Inside were bank accounts and notes of all denominations and countries thousands and thousands of pounds worth, birth certificates and yet more photos. Another diary but much bigger this time plus four more notebooks.

We placed all the contents in our bags and took them home to rummage through them in the comfort of our house.

Still in great disbelief of my parents double lives we started to go through it all. The diary was far more detailed than the one I had found and it was shocking to read. My mother had been recruited three months into her time at the Whitehall offices. Her handler was simply known as John and was an acquaintance of the Admiral.

She was taken to a small airfield in Kent where she underwent very intensive training with three others, one man and two women. There were comings and goings of various dignitaries and were introduced to their pilot to take them to France. The pilot was later to became my father. All this was so overwhelming I was in floods of tears as I read it, Ben held me as we read it together.

Halfway through the diary there was a small envelope with a handwritten letter addressed (To my children.)

Ben made two strong brandy's and we sat side by side at the table to read it.

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{"To my four wonderful children, if you are reading this I assume I am no longer around. Please know you are the best things that ever happened to me, I loved you all and lived my life for you all. My life as you have now found out was not quite what you all thought, was it.

Your dad and I decided that none of you should know about our past until I had passed.

You have an extended family in Belgium that I hope one day you will meet, I have left all the details in a notepad with names and addresses." }

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"Ben, who the fuck was my mother?"

He sat dumbfounded unable to speak just staring at the letter in my hands.

*******************************************

It continued :

{"Admiral Hennessey died a while ago but his office still hold all my files for you to look through. Your father and myself did things in the war that we would rather forget so we decided to never tell any of you about our past.

He was the kindest most perfect man I could ever have wished to meet and I loved him to my last breath. You will learn things about me from my files that may contradict this but we were in times of war, we both had to do things that we would rather have not done.

I do not regret any of my time in Belgium, I loved another man for a time and had many adventures, But please believe me I never stopped loving your dad, ever.

If you find this letter before your dad has passed I hope he talks of our time before you all with kind words. Know this, that I loved all of you so much and wish I was still holding all of you in my arms.

Goodbye my babies, we will meet again. I love you. Mum XXXXX" }

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I burst into floods of tears and Ben held me tightly crying almost as much as I was. I was a wreck for the rest of the evening and Ben rang my brother and sister, bollocks to the M.O.D. they needed to know the truth. I took the week as holiday time at work much to their disapproval because of the late notice but I needed it. Monday morning after the kids had all gone to school my sisters and brother turned up.

Billy came out with it first,

"Ok sis what's the emergency, I'm in deep shit at work for not going in today, this better be good!"

Ben took them all into the lounge with a pot of tea and biscuits, a bottle of scotch with 4 glasses for good measure.

"I'll leave you alone love, this needs to come from you."

Alice looked scared, "What is it Sally, what has happened?"

"Everyone sit down, please sit I have a few things to go over with you."

Over the next hour or two I told them the story of the past weekend, Ben came back in to a wall of noise as the questions flew back and forth. He had to read the letter as I couldn't because the tears were falling again.

We explained that we could not really legally tell them everything as we were bound to the forms we had signed, so to please, please keep this only to spouses until we knew more. We all passed the note books and diary between us reading them with open mouths.

"Mum was married?"

Mary started to cry again, "She says here that she loves this Harry man, what about my dad she has betrayed him?"

"She had another family!"

"What the fuck" came out of everyone's mouth at least 3-4 times each over the day. Everyone was in shock at the medal tray especially the O.B.E.

But the real shocker was a birth certificate of a Heidi Taylor in May 1943. Born to Harry and Alice Taylor.

Alice was the first to speak in an almost silent whisper, "We have a sister?...mum had a baby with this Harry bloke!"

All of us sat in silence, even more shocked at the prospect of another sibling.

Another round of "What the fucks!"

Our mum had gone off to war, fallen in love with another man and had his baby, was this before or after she met dad? And where is the girl now?

The night ended with tears all round and goodbyes with solemn promises to keep silent about the days happenings until my next meeting with Anthony Ashford on Thursday.

I arranged with him to get passes for me and three others on Thursday so they could come too.

Billy, Mary and Alice all had to sign the dreaded forms too to be allowed to hear and see mums files.

Mr. Ashford opened up the first file, it read.

"Alice Springfield was assigned to MI5 on May 15th 1939. For a period no less than 59 days for temporary field office duties under order of and reporting directly to Admiral A. Hennessey. She was transferred less than a week later to another division not named by order of W.C."

"Churchill?" Alice asked.

"Could be, he was the minister for war at that time." Said Mr Ashford.

We all looked at each other even more flabbergasted than we had been before if that was possible.

He continued,

"Assigned to Biggin Hill airbase to undergo field training for special ops commencing late winter 1939. Passed out with honours November 1939."

"Codename : apple. To be transported to destination 7. 23rd Nov."

The file had attached pictures of mum in a wrens uniform next to a spitfire and a pilot, it was our dad, he looked so young he must've only been 17 or 18.

"Alice was dropped by parachute into occupied Belgium 27th July 1940. Her object to infiltrate local resistance fighters and report to London."

"She jumped from a plane? She was afraid of heights!" Alice screamed.

Mr. Ashford looked amused as he continued,

"Your mother stayed there for nearly four years fighting with the resistance. She married a Harry Taylor an American-Belgian national fighting alongside her in 1941."

At this time Mr. Ashford opened another file on his desk, this one showed mum had married dad also, but this marriage was in a small chapel on Romney Marsh in Kent on August 3rd 1939.

Time for another round of "What the fucks!"

Mary's turn to chip in with "she was married twice?"

Mr. Ashford said, "Yes, it looks like once for love, the other for her country."

"So she was cheating on my dad?" Alice said.

"No." Mr. Ashford stated, "We were at war, needs must."

Again we all sat silent.

Mr. Ashford started again,

"In early 1942 she was captured and imprisoned awaiting execution, nothing was heard of her until her aided escape in the June of the same year. Alice and Harry went into hiding reporting to London as and when possible."

"In April 1943 a light aircraft was sent to bring a pregnant Alice and her husband back to Britain. It was shot down over Ostend. The pilot J. Johnstone. escaped capture."

"Dad!" we all said simultaneously.

Mr. Ashford continued

"Your father made his way to a friendly farmhouse and later made contact with the resistance. A week later I am afraid Harry was killed saving your mum from enemy soldiers."