The German Numbers Woman. Alan Sillitoe
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‘A fair amount. It’s hard not to, if you’re persistent. I’m at it all my spare time.’ The first rule in the procedure book at radio school was: ‘Intelligent cooperation between operators,’ but to share what he heard would be like leaving a hole in his body never to be closed. All he heard was his alone. To betray Judy and her friend, or the German Numbers Woman, or Vanya in Moscow, or the Flying Dutchman, or any other character culled from the network and allowed to grow and become real in his mind, wasn’t part of his wish. At the moment they were beholden to him for their secret existence. On the other hand, perhaps Richard already had them in his books, and to mention them would make no difference either to their fate or his. But he was taking no chances.
Richard sensed his reluctance. You only got what you gave, nothing more and nothing less. ‘I still have the speed to take everything, even the Italian news at twenty eight words a minute. It’s amazing how it stays with you. The Italian weather comes in pretty fast as well. It’s good practice, and keeps the brain sharp. That’s the reason I do it.’ He wondered at the red pins scattered across the Russia of Mercator’s World,
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