The Bletchley Riddle

“I prefer being straightforward. My older brother, Jakob, used to be straightforward. Before Willa disappeared, that is. Willa is our mother. Killed in a bomb blast, they told us. A falsity I refuse to accept. I no longer refer to her as Mother because she’s not currently here to ‘mother’ me. So it’s easier, and hurts less, to call her by her first name.”

Lizzie is much more open than her brother. This is partially because of Jakob’s top-secret work, but it’s also because she’s processed the loss of her parents differently. Lizzie’s use of short, abrupt sentences (e.g., “Willa is our mother”; “A falsity I refuse to accept”) creates a tone of business-like deduction, as though Lizzie is listing the facts of the situation and assessing them in an attempt at emotional detachment. Her admission that she cannot call Willa “mother” because she is not currently behaving like a mother to her children introduces The Ethics of Espionage, illuminating how trying to do the right thing for a broader cause can exact high costs to individual relationships.

“‘Your mother chose poorly,’ Gran never tires of telling me. ‘An old academic with a weak heart? I warned that he would die early and leave you fatherless. And of course I was right.’

‘She loved him,’ I always say.

‘Exactly. She chose poorly!’”

Everyone struggles to control their emotions in the wake of the ongoing fear and political tension, but Lizzie is receiving direct signals that she shouldn’t give into emotion whatsoever. Lizzie refuses to believe that Willa made a mistake in marrying for love, a stance that reflects her characterization as someone who tends to prioritize emotional authenticity and interpersonal bonds over broader issues or more abstract ideals.

“He spins to face me. ‘Maybe it’s best if she’s not. Did you ever think of that, Lizzie?’

A chill floods my body. How could he say such a thing? I note his expression, and that’s when I realise. My brother’s not only lying. He’s not only annoyed. He’s frightened.

Truly frightened. […]

The Germans are coming. Hitler is coming.”

This exchange conveys the emotional distance between the siblings while giving more insight into their characterization. Lizzie hasn’t yet considered that there could be a fate worse than death, as she is too consumed with her mother’s individual fate than with the wider developments of the war. Jakob, meanwhile, here reveals his deep-seated fears that the Nazis might invade England, while Lizzie’s surprise realization that he is “frightened” alerts her to the fact that, beneath his calm and secretive surface, Jakob has many anxieties and fears of his own.

“Could it be possible that I don’t really know my brother? But what is there to know? He’s a Cambridge man and belongs to the cardigan corps of mathematicians. He’s humble, witty and sometimes speaks in riddles, just to see if I’ll notice. I always notice.”

Lizzie doesn’t yet realize exactly why Jakob has grown so distant from her. This is both because of her youth and because of the unique nature of Jakob’s work, reflecting the burden of secrets. While Lizzie knows that Jakob belongs to “the cardigan corps of mathematicians,” she does not realize that this might mean he is involved with codebreaking work that he cannot divulge to her. Lizzie’s assertion, “I always notice,” creates a situation of dramatic irony, as there are actually many aspects of Jakob’s situation that Lizzie has failed to notice or understand despite her confidence with “riddles.”

“You see, I was never the sort who dreamed of running away to join the circus. Too many things to fall off at the circus. But if I’d known there was a place called the Government Code and Cypher School, I’d have begged my mum to send me.

It wasn’t what I’d have imagined as a boy: a castle on a lonely cliff, scholars in robes rushing down stone stairways with heavy books. It was better.”

Jakob is characterized as regimented, private, and solitary—he prefers a controlled environment and doesn’t like to be surprised. He loves ciphers because he enjoys the opportunity to understand and gain power over his circumstances. His claim here that the Park is even “better” than what he could have imagined speaks to The Nature of Wartime Spirit, as he is eager to serve his country even when the work is less glamorous and far more stressful than a “castle on a lonely hill” of his childhood dreams would have promised.

“We knew Germany’s military was stronger than ours. More soldiers, more planes, more bombs. But if we did our jobs, we could read their plans. Give our boys a fighting chance. That’s all I want to do. Play some small part in punching Hitler in the mouth. Save the world from the Nazis.

And get a bit of revenge for Mum while I’m at it.”

Jakob demonstrates the nature of wartime spirit here, as he is willing to fight against vast odds rather than accept defeat. He cares about others, and his efforts to help them arise through bigger, more wide-reaching actions like attempting to solve the Enigma codes. His admitting that he wants to get “revenge for Mum” as well reveals a more hidden, vulnerable side to Jakob’s character, emphasizing that he is more affected by Willa’s death than Lizzie realizes.

“‘That’s my sister. Elizabeth.’

‘What’s she doing here?’

‘I have no idea,’ I say. ‘I feel like I hardly know her.’

‘You don’t know your sister?’

‘I do. I used to. But I’ve been away at boarding school, and then university, and then here…’”

Jakob struggles to identify what specifically came between him and his sister—when, in a way, nothing did besides his own lack of communication. Jakob’s reflection, “I hardly know her” mirrors Lizzie’s own fears at this part of the novel that she does not know Jakob as well as she would wish to, either. In this way, both of the protagonists are struggling with the burden of secrets, even though they are not fully aware they have this problem in common.

“[Turing’s] a genius. People use that word as a synonym for great intelligence, but that’s not what I mean. Speak with very intelligent people and you may be impressed; you may even be amazed. But you can follow their train of thought. You can see where their ideas came from.

It’s not that way with a genius. It’s not that way with Turing.”

The inclusion of Alan Turing in The Bletchley Riddle helps settle the story in the truth of a wider historical narrative. Turing famously cracked the Enigma code, and he sometimes provides guidance to the main characters. However, the authors chose to go beyond the common story of Bletchley Park and explore other experiences, something characteristic of their approaches to historical writing. This passage also expresses what Jakob finds admirable and what he seeks to emulate himself.

“I turn to Nigel. ‘Guess we’d better start watching the sky for nuns.’

‘You shouldn’t joke, Jakob.’

‘I know.’”

Jakob and Nigel’s exchange about needing to watch the sky for German planes foreshadows the bombing that will occur at the end of the novel, initiating the Blitz. While Jakob attempts to joke calmly about the imminent threat, the seriousness of the situation emphasizes the real danger the characters are in.

“I pull my pipe from a jacket pocket. It’s actually my father’s pipe, one of the few things I’ve got of his. I’ve given up trying to light the blasted thing.”

This passage exposes how Jakob isn’t truly over the loss of his father. The pipe is an important symbol of his loss: Holding onto his father’s pipe, especially as he can’t even use it, shows how strong the bond with his father was. However, his inability to light it also shows an emotional disconnect. Whether it is the emotional openness he felt with his father or his ability to understand his dad’s perspective on life, Jakob is at a loss. As a boy who prides himself on solving problems, his inability to merely light a pipe confounds him.

“Enigma looks like a typewriter at first glance. It’s got a twenty-six-letter keyboard, but there’s no place for paper. Instead, above the keys is a lamp board: twenty-six round windows, each with a letter, arranged in the same order as the keyboard.

I press D on the keyboard. The L lights up on the lamp board. I press E, and W lights up.

‘This is all Enigma does,’ I say. ‘It’s nothing more than a clever way of turning one letter into another.’”

The Enigma machine is deceptively simple, but it becomes an important symbol of the nature of wartime spirit as Jakob’s team struggles to crack it. Discovering how the Germans are using it to communicate is hugely important to the war effort, and the daunting nature of that task makes the simplicity of the machine all the more frustrating. Jakob is trying to convey to his new team how straightforward their mission is, but this leads into a discussion of the more than a billion potential codes they would have to check at this point to discover which one the Germans are using.

“I’ve never been a crier, but I’m fighting tears. Furious tears. Fists clenched and nails biting my palms, I take a breath and try to speak slowly.

‘Willa was here. She travelled all the way to Bletchley to tell you about her trip. She seemed different, worried. And you…you didn’t think to mention that to me?!’

‘I dove into work as soon as I arrived. Days turned into weeks, and Mum didn’t come home. What should I have said?’

‘Are you really asking that?’”

This conflict highlights one of the key differences between Jakob and Lizzie: Jakob runs away from feelings and conflict, whereas Lizzie approaches it head-on. Jakob’s refusal to discuss what happened with Willa has shown how the burden of secrets has damaged their relationship. Jakob suffers because of everything he’s dealing with, but Lizzie has also been left ignorant in her search for Willa and hurt because, ultimately, Willa chose to visit Jakob and not her.

“‘Lizzie,’ whispers Jakob. ‘Do you ever get the feeling that we didn’t really know Mum?’

What on earth is he implying? ‘Of course we knew her,’ I say. ‘At least I did. I do.’”

This passage explores the ethics of espionage, as this is where Willa’s motives and the impacts of her behavior on her children become more apparent. Jakob and Lizzie are both defensive of Willa—particularly to Jarvis, who heavily implies Willa was a spy for Nazi forces—but they have no confirmation that their faith in her is justified. Their confusion and sense of loss speaks to the individual sacrifices the loved ones of spies must make.

“‘The moons of Jupiter,’ my father said. ‘Can you imagine Galileo’s reaction when he first saw them? There’s nothing there, for all of human history. He finds a new way to look—and there they are!’

My father told me the names: Io, Europa, Ganymede and one more…He died later that summer. Heart attack, very sudden. I couldn’t talk for a week. Lights flashed in my head anytime someone touched me. I didn’t realise it at the time, but I can see it now: I made up my mind never to be that shocked by anything ever again. And I mean to keep that promise. I came to Bletchley Park to work.

That’s what I was trying to say to Lizzie. It came out all wrong. I just want to work. It’s the only way I can do any good.”

This passage begins to shed light on why Jakob is so solitary and withdrawn from Lizzie, and why he refuses to consider Lizzie’s opinion that Willa is alive. He can’t take the emotional strain of having hope for his mother’s survival only to discover after all that she is actually dead. Jakob’s fascination with Jupiter and finding a new way to look at life shows that his father encouraged wonder, curiosity, and an appreciation for the world around him, yet Jakob throws himself into his work after his loss. Learning how to hope again will be a major aspect of Jakob’s character arc.

“Colin’s always so honest. I wish I could tell him about everything I’ve seen inside the Park: countless huts with different departments; the odd, clicking machines; the chalkboards littered with equations; the small slips of paper; ladies crying in the loo; men buckling from exhaustion; and couples kissing behind trees. Marion and Jakob must see it all too. But the Secrets Act prohibits us from talking about it.”

Lizzie’s growing bond with Colin is threatened by her new role as a messenger for The Colonel at Bletchley Park. The budding romance is hindered by Lizzie’s need to maintain the Official Secrets Act. Through this dilemma over the burden of secrets, Lizzie begins to better understand Jakob and Willa, who have both abandoned her, but with reason.

“It’s a week since she left. I’m glad she’s safely away from the war, but I miss her. Never thought I’d say that. The eyes, the hair, the elbows. Even the endless questions. I miss it all.

You must promise me that you will never, ever, give up on Willa. That line of hers clobbers me over and over.

But what can I do?

BRING WHAT YOU TOOK

[…]

I can read Hitler’s secret orders but can’t make heads or tails of these five words from my mum.”

This moment marks an important turning point in Jakob’s character, as he begins to miss Lizzie and realize the depth of his emotions for her. Furthermore, despite his talent for code breaking, he can’t figure out the complex situations closest to him. Fighting Hitler makes more sense to him than trying to understand the messages of his own family, reflecting how secrecy can also impact interpersonal dynamics.

“I hate that Fleetwood is ahead of me.

I hate that Bletchley could be behind me. […]

I hate that I haven’t found Willa.

I’ll manage. If need be, I’ll continue my investigation from Cleveland. I’ll set up my headquarters in Gran’s musty house on Millionaires’ Row. I’ll find a way.”

Lizzie embodies the nature of wartime spirit in her own way. While Jakob embodies the spirit by dedicating himself to codebreaking, Lizzie remains committed to valuing individual lives and seeking the truth. Just like those fighting the Nazi forces, Lizzie’s determination won’t be broken by bad odds.

“‘You can’t serve tea, Mum! Tea is being rationed.’

‘But I’ve got a supply saved. Your father and I will do without tea, but it seems unkind to ask guests to. I think of Simon. Every night I pray that some kind soul has wrapped my duck in a blanket with a hot cuppa.’ She lifts the edge of her apron to wipe her eyes. ‘Oh, good morning, Lizzie, dear. Fancy some tea?’”

In a different version of the nature of wartime spirit, Colin’s family maintains a kindness for others and a determination to support the war effort despite their personal cost—in this case, the growing likelihood that Colin’s brother, Simon, has died in a fight over the channel. Colin’s mother offers what little she has to Lizzie because, like Lizzie, she understands that love and generosity is essential to surviving their ordeal. Colin’s mother’s determination to serve tea even though it’s “rationed” also reflects the historical context of the novel, as food supplies and necessities were indeed rationed by the government during the war years.

“Another amazing chapter that won’t be in the history books. Not until the secrets of Bletchley Park can be told.”

The authors of The Bletchley Riddle both explore both famous and underacknowledged aspects of history in their books, and they touch on this directly in this line. The broad strokes of WWII history and some of the individuals who affected the war would be well known to all, but there are so many unique stories lost to history, whether because they weren’t deemed important or because secrecy required them to be lost. The burden of secrets thus means not only the relationships are strained, but that people may never receive the appreciation their due for good deeds.

“‘A necessary fiction,’ the Colonel says. ‘Trust me when I say it was time well spent. Time wriggling her way into fascist groups here in Britain. Earning the trust of Nazi sympathisers within the American government—that swine Tyler Kent, for instance.’

‘But not working with him,’ Lizzie says, turning to me. ‘I told you.’

‘You did.’”

Jakob and Lizzie finally receive confirmation that Willa is both alive and not a spy for opposing forces. It’s the truth that Lizzie has been seeking the entire story, and it’s a complete and welcome surprise for Jakob. Lizzie is eager to point out she was right—but this ultimately doesn’t override the fear and grief that Willa caused her children by pretending to be dead. The Colonel calls it a “necessary fiction,” but the burden placed on Willa’s children invokes the ethics of espionage.

“An explosion detonates nearby, shaking the basement. […] I think of the countless lives that will be lost during this one evening alone. Up to this point it’s all felt like a cerebral exercise. A warning. But suddenly, it’s all too real. Children will be orphaned, wives widowed, homes destroyed and families forever changed. And this is just the beginning. How long will the war last, and how many countries will be affected? I think of our brave young soldiers, so willing to give their lives, and boys like Colin, who are desperate to join them. And what does this feel like for the older men who experienced the first war, followed by the Depression? Is there no reprieve? The magnitude of it presses in on me, overwhelming. I’m so grateful to be with my brother.

‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper to Jakob. ‘I underestimated the importance of your work.’”

This moment marks Lizzie’s coming of age. While she has paid little attention to the wider war developments, experiencing the early bombings of the Blitz makes her realize how high the stakes are. She can now recognize how crucial the code breakers work is as well, as it could prevent the type of suffering she’s experienced from reaching more people. This marks an important moment of reconciliation between the siblings.

“Hitler’s bombers have been back every night since that first big raid two months ago. They’ve killed thousands, pounding London and other cities—Liverpool, Birmingham, Manchester, Southampton. London remains the bull’s-eye of the Blitz, as newspapers are calling it.

But if Hitler was hoping to break our spirit, to sow panic and despair, he must be sadly disappointed.

Londoners emerge at daylight, sweep the rubble from their doorways, and go about their day.”

This passage makes clear the nature of the nature of wartime spirit. Despite the odds and the horrible loss they’ve suffered, citizens are determined to have hope and maintain their country as best they can. This desire to defend and support one another is the crucial trait that helps the nation on its path to victory.

“[I]t was the biggest news of the war. I had two thoughts right away.

1. Now we have most definitely punched Hitler in the mouth.

2. I can’t tell Lizzie. But so what? It’s Lizzie. She’ll figure it out.”

Jakob shows two different forms of development here. Firstly, he calls back to an early passage where he said all he wants to do is play his part in punching Hitler in the mouth—and get revenge for his mother in the process. He can now feel some peace and closure with his actions, as he’s not only supported the war effort but also confronted his feelings about Willa and learned that she’s alive. Secondly, it shows him being more comfortable with Lizzie learning his secrets, even if he’s not the one to tell her about them. The emotional wall between them has dissolved, and he’s alright with his sister getting to know him.