Although the war had moved into its sixth year, you could see the optimism
on people’s faces now. The news from the different battle fronts was
encouraging and it seemed to Maddie that it would take a heavy-duty
miracle for the Germans to turn around defeat. And they needed to be
defeated, there was no doubt of that in Maddie’s mind. Hitler was a vicious
bully. Some were calling him a power-mad maniac. Because of him,
millions of people had died, including her friends Molly and Betts. It was
his bomb that had fallen on Molly and her family. And his V-2 rocket that
had put an end to Betty’s life.
Even so, Maddie’s thoughts were sometimes conflicted. Could you
really blame the German people for Hitler’s sins, people like Rudi’s mother,
who had lost her youngest son Werner at Dunkirk and had no idea if her
husband was alive or dead? And Rudi, of course. She wished him no harm.
Things were often complicated.
She and Gertie would sometimes sit by the fire in the evening, listening
to the wireless, and if there was any cocoa left, they would raise their tin
mugs in a toast to ‘lost pals’.
Then Maddie came up with a plan. It was a daring plan. And a little
rebellious. And if it went wrong, she could end up in hot water. She was not
a natural rebel, but in the circumstances, it was the least she could do for
her very special friend, Gertie Adams.
Gertie had no mother, no father, no brothers or sisters. No husband, no
lover. And one important date was coming up for her when a family was
needed to help celebrate it. So, Maddie had decided that on 1 March she
would do something novel for Gertie to mark her twenty-first birthday.
Fortune favours the bold it’s said. And maybe luck favours them as
well. Maddie had never thought herself bold, but now it seemed that she
must be. Because events just fell into place, and her plans for Gertie’s
birthday treat worked out even better than she could ever have imagined.
Most of it was down to one wonderful American major in the United
States Army Air Force. An interesting and rather attractive man, she had
driven him in her staff car a few times now. She was on rota to drive him to
a meeting during the afternoon and then to take him to a theatre in Central
London.
She’d logged in as usual, picked up the car and then the major. But
when Maddie had tried to pin down some sort of schedule from the man,
he’d been intrigued and extracted the whole story from her.
‘So, you’ll just drive this friend of yours around in the blackout. Is that
your plan, Private Brady?’
Maddie felt herself blush under his quizzical stare. ‘Just a skeleton plan,
right now,’ she said. ‘Only an idea, not too much flesh on the bones. But not
the blackout, no. I thought perhaps while you were at your meeting, sir, I
could give her a trip out in the staff car. And then collect you later, sir
deliver you to the Playhouse…’
‘Not much of a treat for a twenty-first birthday,’ said the major. He
raised an eyebrow in amusement.
‘More than she’s expecting,’ said Maddie.
‘No, it won’t do at all,’ he said. ‘So, here’s what we’ll do. You’ll take
me to my meeting. Go and collect this pal of yours, drive her around for a
bit. And then the pair of you will accompany me to this play tonight.’
‘But I can’t do that,’ said Maddie, appalled. ‘I’m on duty.’
‘I see, young lady. So, you were prepared to steal one of the British
Army’s staff cars, but you’re not prepared to go out to the theatre when
you’re asked?’
‘I don’t think it would be right, sir. Nor proper. Going to the theatre
when I should be on duty. It’s not professional.’
‘And if I were to call it an order, instead of an invitation?’
‘I don’t know…’ said Maddie.
‘Well, I do. Plus, you’d be doing me a favour. This play tonight will
likely be the most boring thing I’ve ever had to sit through. But it’s being
put on by the American Forces Theater Unit, so it’s obligatory to attend.
Flying the flag, so to speak. The company of two fine young ladies might
ease the pain somewhat.’
Maddie could think of nothing to say.
‘And if you’re worried about reputations, Private. I promise to be on my
best behaviour. You have the word of a Southern gentleman.’
‘That’s not what I’m worried about, sir.’
‘Nothing more to say, then. Log me in on that timesheet of yours,
Private Brady, and log me out when we finish. And I won’t tell if you
don’t.
