Maddie wasn’t surprised when she woke up next morning and the place
beside her on the blanket was empty. Of course, he’d have left early, at first
light. Still, she was disappointed that he hadn’t said goodbye, especially
after that kiss. It had seemed real. As if he felt something special for her.
She could still remember the pressure of his mouth on hers, the electricity
that went through her when she’d responded. It was more than just a
friendly kiss. You didn’t kiss a friend like that. And she was confused by it,
conflicted – the man was an enemy, after all.
But the way he had shared the details of his home and his family with
her. Well, that hadn’t felt like an enemy. It had seemed intimate, like he
trusted her. Maddie tried to imagine where he might go, this man named
Rudi. He would stand out with his poor clothes and the white patch sewn on
his back. She’d meant to ask him about that, but it was too late now.
It was strange, but suddenly she felt herself adrift. Wasn’t sure what to
do next. What she wanted to do next. And there was this strange emptiness
in her that she had not felt before, like something of value had been
suddenly found and now was lost.
She should probably get straight back to Captain Andrews and the camp
at White Cross, but she had no heart to go tearing back there before her
temporary pass was up. And who knew what she would find. She could be
racing back to her own court-martial. But it was exactly what she should do.
Report on the escape of an enemy prisoner. Tell the guards back at the POW
camp where they should look for him. She didn’t know why she hadn’t
done it yesterday. She was a patriot. So, what had stopped her?
A strange melancholy had her in its grip. She couldn’t remember
walking down to the cove; some internal navigation seemed to be in charge
and guided her footsteps unerringly down the rugged path towards the
ocean. She didn’t question it, offered no resistance to the force that led her
to the sea and the ancient church sheltering above its shoreline. For
centuries, it had clung on tenaciously to this small strip of land and rock, its
fragile hold defiant against the elements. This humble church had survived
the constant battering of storms and the sand that tried to invade its tiny
realm.
The gate was open, so she walked on through, heading to the
churchyard. Something about looking at gravestones, imagining past lives,
seemed in keeping with her sombre mood. She’d imagined only ancient
souls buried there but was surprised that some from the local parish even
now still found their way to this peaceful last resting place: a young girl,
eight years old, yet to carve her mark on life, lay buried beneath a simple
stone. Drowned, the headstone read, taken back to the ocean that was more
her home than the land.
The unexpected hand on her shoulder made her jump. Not that Maddie
was superstitious or frightened that ghostly spectres might inhabit this
ancient place, but there had been no warning, no sound behind her as he’d
walked lightly across the grass.
‘Why aren’t you miles away?’ she asked, surprised.
Rudi Fischer held out his hands, took hers. ‘I missed you,’ he said, a
roguish look on his face. She thought of her handsome smuggler. But that
wasn’t right. He was mere fiction.
This man was real.
‘You’re crazy.’ Maddie laughed. ‘And I think you’re lying again.’
‘No,’ said Rudi. ‘No lies. Well, at least…’
‘I knew it.’ She pulled her hands away and frowned.
‘I did miss you. And I wanted to see you again, to keep your face in my
mind. I want to remember you and this beautiful ocean.’ His gaze turned to
the sea. ‘And to test my leg – it’s not so good.’
‘What’s wrong with your leg?’ asked Maddie.
‘It was broken. Your doctors were kind; they fixed it okay, but
sometimes—’
‘—you have to limp,’ she said.
‘Yes. A little pain. It needs a rest, maybe just a day to make better,’ said
Rudi. ‘It must be well for a long journey. And maybe I have to run a little.’
He shrugged philosophically.
‘Okay…’
‘You will go back?’ he asked, anxiously.
‘I have to,’ said Maddie. ‘But I have one more day of freedom. If I want
it. Then I have to drive my boss back.’
‘The important man with the fine moustache,’ he said. ‘He seems angry.
I hope he treats you good.’
Maddie shrugged. ‘Captain Andrews doesn’t have to like me. I don’t
have to like him. I take orders, he gives them – it’s the army.’
‘You like the army? Like your job?’
‘I love my job,’ she said. ‘People trust me, and I get to do things women
didn’t do before the war.’
‘So, you must keep your job. That’s important,’ said Rudi.
Maddie nodded, but looked down. ‘But maybe after this, when they find
out what I’ve done…’ she said.
‘But you’ve done nothing.’
‘I’m afraid the army won’t see it like that.’
‘The guards were slack, they didn’t search your car,’ he said. ‘The fault
is with them, not you.’
‘It won’t make a difference,’ said Maddie.
‘Then you must say nothing. Let them think I get out over the fence
behind the railway line.’
‘In other words, lie,’ she said.
He shrugged. ‘What else is there? You want to go to the sea?’ he asked
suddenly, changing the subject, throwing her off guard.
‘What?’
‘The sun begins to shine. We could go to the water.’
‘Swim? But I don’t have any costume and it must be cold out there,’
said Maddie.
‘We could put our feet in,’ said Rudi.
‘Paddle, you mean. Yes, I suppose we could.’ Why not? It’s a holiday,
isn’t it? Bizarre. A paddle in the ice-cold waters of the ocean with an
escaped German prisoner of war. It would a story for the grandchildren.
And what would Molly say? She’d say Do it! of course. For if there was
one thing that her friend Molly Peters believed in, it was grabbing hold of
the moment. Shaking every ounce of pleasure from it. And Molly did that
fearlessly, took whatever opportunity came her way, enjoyed every new
sensation. And sometimes that had been dangerous, hadn’t always ended
well, but the strange thing was she had never regretted it. Regret, claimed
Molly, is only something you have when you are too frightened to try new
things.
And Maddie, who had argued that love-at-first-sight wasn’t real, a myth
for novels only, happily followed Rudi Fischer to the ocean, to put her
theory to the test.
She’d sniggered at his attempts to catch a fish. The only way they’d have
fish for lunch would be if the fish committed suicide and threw itself up
onto the rocks. But you had to admire his persistence. Which she did.
He told her more about his family, his younger brother, Werner, a
serious boy. Cannon fodder, a life carelessly thrown away at Dunkirk, Rudi
told her. She could see his frustration simmering below the surface. And his
mother. He should be there to comfort her! he said. A strong, brave woman.
Alone. Left to deal with the idiocy of war. Two sons and a husband gone.
Maddie tried to picture his mother. She could see the fierce pride he had
in his family. And the love.
He was a good man, this Rudi. She was sure of it. And her feelings for
him were growing into something deeper than friendship. Dangerous
feelings, conflicting and traitorous. They were like a runaway train, and
she’d need to find the brakes before it was too late.
‘Maybe we go back. No fish today.’ He laughed.
‘Maybe you’re a better hunter than a fisherman,’ said Maddie.
‘Oh?’
‘Rabbits.’ She shivered, looked across at the dunes, remembering the
small furry creature blown to pieces there. ‘Then again…’
An unspoken agreement took them back up the shoreline. She watched
him stoop to pick up a piece of flint. And she laughed. ‘What will you do
with it?’ she asked.
‘A keepsake,’ said Rudi.
‘A souvenir? You’re sentimental.’
‘Maybe. Would that be bad?’
‘No,’ she said.
They walked on past the jagged ribs of granite guarding the beach. Past
the tiny church with its ancient bell tower and graveyard. Along the rugged
path up to the barn. Hand in hand. It seemed natural.
Friends out for a day by the sea. Or more than friends, perhaps. But
was that really what she wanted? To go further with this man than she had
ever gone with any man before, to give away something precious of herself.
And to one of her country’s enemies.
The conflict in her head resolved itself when he led her back into the
barn and turned those bright blue eyes on her, and his smile. Both the smile
and the eyes seemed innocent to Maddie, not manipulative or contrived.
That afternoon, in a broken-down barn by the ocean, she allowed him
into her body. Welcomed him. Gave him the priceless gift of her virginity.
Her body, her choice.
It was better than she had ever imagined it could be. Maybe the fact that
he seemed shy helped her, for he asked nothing of her, didn’t take her love
but allowed her to give it freely.
He made love to her slowly, exploring every part of her body, touching
places with tender fingers, the surprise of discovery bringing small moans
from his lips.
Maddie felt the wetness of her own pleasure even before his body
entered hers, but she saw him hesitate. Didn’t he want her? Why was he
holding back? Was he asking her permission before he took this last,
irreversible step? Something there could be no return from. Something that
changed her from a virgin into a… a what? A fallen woman. That’s what her
mother called them. Loose women who had sex with a man before they
were married. But what did her mother know of joy? Of the kind of joy
Maddie felt now.
She nodded her head in agreement, and his body joined with hers,
gently at first and then with a little pain that told her she had crossed the
threshold into womanhood.
He thrust harder and faster inside her, an urgency taking hold of him,
until she thought they would both explode with it. And for a fleeting
second, she felt fear, not of him, but of what the moment meant, how it
might change her. But he seemed to sense her sudden tension, caressed her
face with his fingertips, brushed the hair away from her eyes. And then it
came, the mountain climbed, the summit reached together, a kind of rapture
she had never imagined could exist.
Maddie felt the delicious shudder rush through her. She watched his
face, his eyes, his lips, the prominent cheekbones, the tiny mole above his
left eyebrow. She imagined that his look of bliss matched her own, apart
from one thing. Something she didn’t understand.
The tear that trickled slowly from his eye.
