Breaking Enigma || The Imitation Game

◈ THIRTY-SEVEN- One More Chance ◈

I spent the next morning with Allany inside Hut 11. She was wearing the same clothes has she was yesterday: a white dress with a pale pink floral pattern and a pair of brown Oxfords. Her hair was tied up because it was messy, unbrushed from the previous day.

"Why don't you go home?" I suggested. "Rest and clean yourself up."

"No, no," she insisted. "I'm fine, honestly."

Moments later, John walked in carrying a small toolbox in one hand and a cup of tea in another.

"Oh, thank you, John," Allany said, turning to smile at him.

"You're welcome, Turing, he replied, placing down the toolbox beside where she was sat, and then taking a sip of his tea.

I noticed some black smudges on John's fingers and questioned him. "Is that ink from newspaper? I thought you weren't bothered about the 'nonsense' they put in there?"

John glanced down at his hand. "Oh no, it's oil."

"Oil?"

"Yes-"

"Yes, John's helping me with Christianna," Allany cut in happily, continuing to tightening some screws on the machine with a wrench.

I was speechless for a moment. I then looked to John. "Sorry, but since when do you two help each other?"

John's cheeks had turned pink. "Kester, I think that you're forgetting that I have a degree in mathematics and fifteen years experience in engineering. I know what I'm doing. And is this enough proof that I'm not, in fact, miserable?"

"Yes. Mind-boggling proof," I smiled. "The patience you have is incredible."

"Well, you have to have more than normal if you're working with Turing," he laughed in return.

"Hey!" Allany exclaimed playfully. "Carry on like that and I'll fire you."

John saluted mockingly. "Yes, ma'am."

The morning dragged on. I read some book that I randomly picked off my shelf the last time I was home, meanwhile Allany and John seemed to be bonding over mechanics, which I found most amusing and unusual.

Christianna had been whirring for the past hour, and there was still no sign of stopping to produce what we greatly needed and desired.

Allany stood up and said, "I'm just going to stand outside for a minute. I need to stretch my legs."

"No wonder. You've been on the floor in the same position for hours," I uttered. "Why don't you just take a proper break like I suggested earlier?"

"Not possible, Kester. There's work to be done, codes to be cracked, and wars to be won."

She then left without another word and I heard John chuckle after the door closed.

"She should really write poems. What she said was better than what Wordsworth could come up with."

I laughed. "Maybe you're right, but Allany's place is here. When the war ends, it might be a possible career choice. Hey, I know some poetry. Do you think I should be a poet too?"