Maddie hummed all the way into Helston. It was that kind of day, with a
cheerful blue sky, peppered with the odd patchwork cloud. A day that
winked at her; picked up on her mood of wonder. Can there really be such
unbounded happiness, and in the middle of the misery of war?
Guilt pricked at the edges of her euphoria, but only for a second. Of
course you could be allowed happiness. And, like her friend Molly, she
would grab it with both hands. She deserved it as much as anyone else. Her
newfound bliss wasn’t ruined by logic or hampered by anything as
mundane as common sense. She had found a special man. One who made
her feel complete, and she had celebrated by joining her body with his.
They had made love, and there was no going back from that. And she didn’t
want to.
No one could tell her that what she had done was wrong, because she
knew deep in her bones that it was right. Even if her mother were to shun
her, call her a fallen woman, right then it would not have meant a jot to
Maddie Brady. She looked at her hands on the steering wheel. The same
hands as yesterday, but somehow different. New. Reinvented. Hands that
had roamed over his body. She caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror.
The same face, but with an extra dimension. And her mouth, her lips. Well,
they seemed the same, but they’d discovered his, so they would never go
back to how they were.
She was still humming when she parked the car and made her way up
the hill towards the Angel Hotel. She hoped Lizzie Retallack would be there
again. It would be good to see her. But although she was bursting to tell
someone about the miracle that had taken place in her life, Maddie knew it
was impossible. It would be foolish. She could tell no one about Rudi. He
was an escaped POW, and folk would feel it their patriotic duty to make
sure he was returned to captivity.
This time yesterday she had felt the same way. But she would not give
him up now. Not to the police or the camp guards, and if that made her a
traitor, then it was a price she was prepared to pay. She would square it with
her conscience later.
For now, there was only the wonder, the miracle of Rudi.
‘Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?’ said Lizzie. ‘A right proper job. Wasson,
maid?’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘We’ll need to teach you proper Cornish, my ’ansum. “Wasson” – I
’spect they English say “What’s on” – all fancy, like.’
‘Ah.’ Maddie laughed, finally understanding. ‘I brought your flask
back,’ she said. ‘And your basket.’
‘You enjoy the Spingo, my bird?’
‘Like you said, Lizzie. Knocked me for six.’
Lizzie chuckled. ‘You ain’t proper Cornish till you’ve had one of they.
You finish your wee holiday, my bird?’
‘Leaving first thing tomorrow morning. I wanted to bring your things
back before I go. You’ve been so kind. I won’t forget you.’
‘Same here. You take care and don’t take no chances in the blackout,
you hear?’
‘Absolutely. And thanks for everything. I’ll send you something from
London, a keepsake.’
‘That’ll be nice. One of they fancy fellas would do,’ said Lizzie, and
chuckled again. ‘Hands across the Tamar, eh? You had a pasty yet?’
‘What’s that?’ asked Maddie.
‘Can’t let you go without a pasty. No meat in them now, mind, just—’
‘—lentils,’ they both said together, and laughed.
Half an hour later, Maddie was on the road back to Gunwalloe.
Two more bottles of Spingo nestled on the seat beside her, along with
two pasties wrapped in a threadbare teacloth. Lizzie had slipped them out of
the kitchen when the cook wasn’t looking.
Maddie had been worried about her new friend getting in trouble, losing
a job she seemed to enjoy. But Lizzie had kept a straight face and tapped
her nose with a single finger. A gesture that said she knew a secret, but one
she was happy to share with Maddie.
‘Smugglers, brigands,’ said Lizzie.
‘What?’
‘Us is Cornish,’ she said, proudly. ‘There’s a bit of pirate in all of we
Cornish.’
Rudi was outside when Maddie got back. Waiting. Looking serious.
Standing propped up against the barn door as if he needed the support.
She thought of it as their barn, for no one else had come near it, had
shown any interest in the place. It was abandoned to its own devices and to
the vagaries of the wild storms that made their way from the rocky shore up
to this exposed headland.
‘You okay?’ he asked, anxiously.
‘You were worried?’ she said. ‘I’m all right.’ It was nice to have a man
worry about you.
‘You were a long time. I thought something had happened to you.’
‘I’m fine,’ she said. ‘I’m a big girl. I can look after myself.’
‘I know, but you said the pub was just down the track.’
‘I changed my mind,’ said Maddie. ‘Didn’t go to the Ship Inn – they
might get nosy. Don’t suppose they get many strangers down this way, and
Harry said the landlord’s a nasty sort.’
‘Harry. He was a gutsy little chap,’ said Rudi. He thought for a second.
‘You like children?’ he asked.
‘Never gave them too much thought,’ she said.
‘Maybe you have some of your own one day.’
‘Maybe.’
‘You wouldn’t like that?’ he asked.
‘Kids would be good,’ said Maddie. ‘If they were like young Harry, full
of fire and optimism. And with the right man, of course.’
‘Of course! And the right woman. I should like very much to have
children. And if I had a boy, I would call him Gunter.’
‘After the father you love,’ said Maddie.
‘Yes,’ said Rudi, his voice no more than a sad, hoarse whisper. He
quickly changed the subject. ‘So, where did you go?’
‘Into Helston,’ she said. ‘The large town. It’s not far.’ She pointed
vaguely.
‘Clever,’ he said. ‘What’s that?’ He pointed to the bundle she held in her
arms.
‘Lunch. Better than waiting for the fish to give themselves up.’ Maddie
laughed.
She’d never seen a pasty before. They were like pies but shaped like an
envelope; vegetables wrapped in a pastry crust. She tried to imagine them
with meat in them. They would be sublime, but then everything was
sublime right then. The world was a wonderful place, surrounded by a rose
coloured aura. But maybe that was just her with rose-tinted glasses on – the
world had not changed.
They ate until they were full and shared one of the bottles of Cornish
beer between them. And drifted into a lazy afternoon, reaching out for each
other, both minds sharing a single thought.
Some might call it shameless, her mother included. But Maddie felt no
shame, just a sleepy sort of pleasure as this beautiful man nuzzled her hair,
breathed his man-breath into her neck. Lying here in his arms was soporific
and maybe even a little decadent. And definitely daring. But not dangerous,
certainly not dangerous, for Maddie had never felt so safe before. He made
her feel that way. He would never let anything bad happen to her. She was
certain of that.
And so they made love again. This second time even better than the first
for Maddie, because this time she felt no fear, knew exactly what to expect.
A languid slow exploration of each other’s bodies as if they could take as
much time as they wanted, as if the world had conveniently stopped and the
passage of time no longer existed.
They fell asleep afterwards and didn’t waken until late in the evening
when another wave of aircraft flew overhead. She jumped in terror and then
she felt his arms wrapped tightly around her, comforting her. Telling her
everything would be fine.
‘Are you sorry?’ asked Rudi.
‘About what?’
‘You know…’
‘About us? What we did?’ she said.
‘That and – well, not turning me over to the authorities.’
‘No regrets.’ Maddie shook her head. He was a kind, compassionate
man. Not warlike. Or a Nazi.
‘You?’
‘About making love to you?’ He smiled. ‘Never! I’ve only done that
once before,’ he admitted, sheepishly. ‘I don’t know if I’m any good at it.
But it didn’t feel like that. Not half as good as it did with you.’
She felt his hand tremble as he traced a line down from her neck into the
cleft between her breasts. Maddie put her hand on top of his, held it there.
‘Run away with me,’ he said.
‘What?’
‘Let’s run away together. We could find a place… out in the wilds.
Somewhere no one could ever find us.’
‘Wonderful,’ she said. ‘Not very practical, though. They’d find us.’ She
sighed. ‘The army is funny about stuff like that. They take deserters very
seriously.’
‘And you’d never do that,’ said Rudi. ‘I would never ask you to do that– to betray your country. I love you too much for that.’
Had she heard that right? Did this man just say he loved her? She’d
never had a man declare his love for her before. It seemed such a huge thing
to say, if it were true. And when she looked into his face, she saw in that
moment that he meant it. And of course that was wonderful. But the rational
part of her brain whispered a warning that it was impossible, that it was
crazy.
So, she didn’t say what she wanted to: that she was crazily, impossibly,
earth-shatteringly in love with him too. Even though her whole being ached
to tell him those things, she didn’t. Instead, Maddie ruffled his shaggy
blond hair and changed the subject: ‘Tell me about the white triangle on
your jacket. What’s that for?’
‘So that people know you’re a war prisoner. German prisoners – we
come in different categories. I’m one of the least dangerous. Not likely to
cause any trouble.’ He gave a short, self-deprecating snort and showed her
the palms of his hands, a gesture of submission. ‘See?’ he said. ‘Completely
harmless. And unlikely to escape.’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Maddie.
‘When you’re first captured, they give you this whole interrogation. Do
you like the Nazi Party? Do you believe in their aims? Do you think
yourself part of a master race? Would you consider it your duty to try and
escape? Ironic, really, as I answered “No” to all of those. And I didn’t want
to escape. So, they gave me a white triangle – means you’re a low-risk
prisoner. Medium-risk, with grey triangles, they go to different camps. And
the high-risk, like the Waffen-SS and the like… well, they go to some of the
bad places, and they have to wear black triangles and armbands.’
‘Oh, I never knew,’ said Maddie.
‘No reason you should.’
‘So, you didn’t want to escape?’ she asked, confused.
‘Didn’t plan on it. I was okay there. Some of the guards were fine, they
even let me run the camp newspaper, and I had good friends. I taught a
little. Started up a small group to study English.’
‘So—?’
‘I had no choice. Not when Hoffmann threatened to kill me. I can’t go
back, he’s still there.’
‘The bully? But surely there’s some complaint procedure.’ He frowned
at her and she blushed at her own stupidity, her naivety. Complaints from
prisoners? Really? Who would care? ‘Well, you’ve got no choice. You’ve
got to speak up, go back and report it. If he’s still there, running away won’t
help. That’s the coward’s way out,’ she said, surprised at the way her voice
had risen; at her own passion, her anger.
When he didn’t answer, she left him alone, going outside into the night
as the last of the German bombers flew overhead with their escort of
fighters. She didn’t think he was a coward. She didn’t know why she’d said
that for she didn’t mean it, but sometimes her mouth jumped in before her
brain had sorted everything out.
She was angry that they would have to leave each other. Had taken it
out on him when it wasn’t his fault. They’d talked about how things might
be, in a perfect world, where they could stay together and just disappear,
forget the war. Maybe even meet here again one day, in this lovely place,
when the whole damn thing was over. But would they? Both knew that real
life had a way of toppling dreams.
Maddie went out to the car and picked up the last bottle of Spingo. But
when she got back to the barn, he was fast asleep with his head turned to the
wall. She drank the beer by herself.
