Their Finest Hour and a Half by Lissa Evans

line across the centre of the room, each lying on the legs of the next like a coxless six, lay Henry’s wives. Here and there, through the layer of filth and plaster that covered them, a tiny spot of colour showed – the green lining of Anne Boleyn’s sleeve, a hint of crimson at Catherine Howard’s breast. A tiny pattering noise began, like weak applause, and, unthinkingly, Edith raised her torch towards the roof. A fine rain slanted across the beam.
    There was a shout, and the crunch of running footsteps. ‘ Off . Turn that bloody torch off.’
    â€˜Sorry.’
    â€˜I should bloody well hope you are. Anyone hurt in here?’
    â€˜I don’t think so. We were all in the basement.’
    â€˜I’ll go and check, then.’
    She stood in darkness as the warden walked away and she listened to the rain falling, to the dust turning to mud and the plaster to glue.

NEWSREEL

November 1940
    There were two viewing rooms at the Ministry of Information: the superior, with padded seats and a ventilation fan, for official screenings, and the intra-departmental, with sticky wooden benches and a pervasive smell of sweat. Catrin, in the latter, remained standing and breathed through her mouth while watching the scrap of film, stopwatch and script in hand.
    INTERIOR OFFICE
    Two women sit either side of an interview table.
    Woman 1
    Are you good with your hands?
    3 seconds
    Woman 2
    Yes
    Woman 1
    Have you ever used an electric sewing machine either at home or in a factory or workshop?
    6 seconds
    Woman 2
    No.
    Woman 1
    Do you think you could learn? 2 seconds
    Woman 2
    Yes.
    Woman 1
    Good. Because our soldiers need parachutes, and we need women who can make them.
    5 seconds
    Woman 2:
    (Smiles.)
    The scene was a two-shot, filmed over the shoulder of Woman 1, so that whereas Woman 2’s face was fully visible, only part of the back of Woman 1’s head was in view. This was known in the films division, Catrin had discovered, as a ‘salvage shot’, since Woman 1, her lips invisible, could be redubbed to say anything that would fit in the gaps between Woman 2’s replies, thus saving on the cost of shooting new footage.
    Back at her desk, Catrin underlined the words ‘Food Flash’ at the top of a piece of scrap paper, re-read the Ministry of Food guidelines she’d been sent, took out the stopwatch again and set to work on a draft.
    INTERIOR OFFICE
    Two women sit either side of an interview table.
    Woman 1
    Do your family often eat carrots?
    Woman 2
    Yes.
    Woman 1
    Did you know that the Vitamin A in carrots can improve night vision by 50 per cent?
    Woman 2
    No.
    Woman 1
    Will you eat even more of them now?
    Woman 2
    Yes.
    Woman 1
    Splendid. Because if they’re good enough for our night fighters then they’re good enough for our children.
    Woman 2
    (Smiles.)
    STOCK SHOT OF BUNCH OF CARROTS.
    V/O
    Raw or cooked, they’re healthy, nutritious and economical.
    She missed Ivy and Lynn. The So-Bee-Fee campaign was still extant – she had spotted the latest instalment in Woman’s View – but someone else was writing the captions now, and the characters’ dialogue, which she’d tried so carefully to differentiate, had become interchangeable. Bert had also become interchangeable, carelessly appearing as Lynn’s husband one month, Ivy’s the next, while the illustrations were once again spiralling away from reality: in the last one she’d seen, Ivy had been frying sausages while wearing an evening stole.
    Catrin read the Ministry of Food memorandum again. Also swedes , it said at the bottom.
    FOOD FLASH #2
    INTERIOR OFFICE
    Two women sit either side of an interview table.
    Woman 2
    Would your family like to try something new?

    Woman 2
    Yes.

    Woman 1
    Can you think of a vegetable that’s not only gaily coloured and British-grown but which won’t break the bank?
    The office door opened and one of the script-editors stuck his head