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turning to page one
It’s crowded in the beer hut, even this late at night.
On one side of the room, Alan, Hugh, John, and Peter are drinking. Commiserating about their fate.
On the other side, Joan is drinking with her friend HELEN — a fellow WREN.
ON JOAN AND HELEN:
HELEN
Who’s Alan’s friend?
JOAN CLARKE
Hugh? Bit of a cad, actually.
HELEN
So my type then?
JOAN CLARKE
Here, I’ll introduce you.
HELEN
No! Lord, engaged for a fortnight
and you’ve already forgotten how to
do this? He’ll come over.
JOAN CLARKE
Are you sure?
HELEN
Yes. I smiled at him fifteen
minutes ago and haven’t looked at
him since.
ON HUGH, ALAN, JOHN, AND PETER:
Hugh is looking at the girls.
HUGH ALEXANDER
(re: Helen)
Who’s that, then?
ALAN TURING
Helen? Works with Joan in the
WREN’s hut.
PETER HILTON
You do have a point about the
little hats.
HUGH ALEXANDER
She wants me to come over.
ALAN TURING
How can you possibly know that?
HUGH ALEXANDER
She smiled at me awhile back and
hasn’t looked again since.
ON JOAN AND HELEN:
HELEN
(re: Hugh’s glances)
And... Got him.
JOAN CLARKE
Is it odd that when I was single
this game felt tedious, but now it
seems just dreadfully fun?
ON THE BOYS:
HUGH ALEXANDER
(re: Helen’s glances)
And... Brilliant. She’s in. Alan,
introduce me.
ALAN TURING
Why me?
HUGH ALEXANDER
Because there is nothing like a
friend’s engagement to make a woman
want to do something she will later
regret with the fiancé’s better-
looking chum.
Hugh drags Alan across the pub to Helen and Joan.
ON JOHN AND PETER:
JOHN CAIRNCROSS
Half crown says Alan bollockses
this up entirely.
PETER HILTON
No bet.
ON HUGH, ALAN, JOAN, AND HELEN:
HUGH ALEXANDER
(to the ladies)
Alan Turing has a theory.
JOAN CLARKE
He has many.
HUGH ALEXANDER
He believes that the regulations
against men and women working side-
by-side are sound, because such
proximity will necessarily lead to
romance.
ALAN TURING
No I don’t —
Hugh KICKS Alan, who shuts up.
HUGH ALEXANDER
— However, I disagree.
HELEN
You do?
HUGH ALEXANDER
I think that if I were working
beside a woman all day long, I
could manage to appreciate her
abilities and intellect without
needing to take her to bed.
(to Helen)
Pardon, have we met?
HELEN
I don’t recall. But let’s assume we
haven’t.
Hugh looks at Alan for an introduction: Alan is silent.
Joan picks up the slack:
JOAN CLARKE
Helen Stewart, Hugh Alexander.
HUGH ALEXANDER
So who do you agree with? Alan or
myself?
HELEN
Well, Alan, of course.
ALAN TURING
I’m flattered, but this is not
actually —
Now Joan KICKS Alan, who is still very confused.
HUGH ALEXANDER
— Rubbish.
HELEN
I work beside a man every day, and
I can’t help but have developed a
bit of a crush on him.
HUGH ALEXANDER
Well who is this man, so I can kick
his arse?
HELEN
Oh, it’s been chaste, you’ve no
need to worry. We’ve never even
met. He’s a German.
HUGH ALEXANDER
Now I really want to kill him.
ALAN TURING
How do you mean you work alongside
a German?
HELEN
Each of us intercepts messages from
a specific German radio tower. So
we’ve a counterpart on the other
side, who’s tip-tapping out the
messages. Everybody types a touch
differently; you get to know the
rhythm of your counterpart. It’s
strangely intimate. I feel as if we
know each other. Pity he has a
girlfriend... But that’s why I
disagree with you. I’m in love with
a co-worker, of sorts, even if
we’ve never met.
HUGH ALEXANDER
I’ll require another pint to tell
you why you’re wrong.
HELEN
Let’s.
Helen and Hugh walk away to the bar...
JOAN CLARKE
(to Alan)
That’s what flirting looks like. In
case you were curious.
But Alan is lost in thought...
Something is wrong...
ALAN TURING
(screaming)
HELEN!!!
Everyone in the room turns and stares at him.
Joan winces.
Helen and Hugh come back over.
HELEN
Yes, Alan?
ALAN TURING
Why do you think your German
counterpart has a girlfriend?
HELEN
Oh, it’s a stupid joke, don’t worry
about it.
ALAN TURING
Tell me.
HELEN
Each one of his messages begins
with the same five letters. C-I-L-L-
Y. So I suspect Cilly must be the
name of his amore.
ALAN TURING
That’s impossible. The Germans are
instructed to choose five letters
at random to start every message.
HELEN
Well, this bloke doesn’t.
HUGH ALEXANDER
Love’ll make a man do strange
things, I suppose. Anyhow —
ALAN TURING
— In this case, love just lost the
Germans the whole bloody war.
Alan BOLTS out of the bar —
— SPILLING BEER ALL OVER HELEN —
— Who CRIES OUT, and ANGRILY RUNS OFF —
— Leaving Hugh and Joan standing there, confused.
They share a look: What’s gotten into Alan?
Joan quickly RUNS OFF after Alan —
— Hugh follows suit —
— And John and Peter, seeing this across the room, take off after Hugh —