The sound of Gertie throwing logs on the fire pulled Maddie from her
reverie. It catapulted her brutally from the past and her memories of Rudi,
the time they’d spent together, to the present. The day after her fortieth
birthday, sitting here in the farmhouse parlour in her beloved Cornwall.
She was cold, didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there, narrating a
story that belonged to the past. Was it real or a fantasy her mind had
conjured up? A love story that the passage of time had turned into an exotic
fiction? Maybe she had simply made him up, this handsome German, and
he was nothing more than a wish. A dream. A dashing hero whose face she
could no longer visualise. Only in dreams. He often came to her in dreams,
and then his face was perfectly clear.
She had told Gertie everything. Held nothing back. Including the
curious visit from the young man and his bizarre and impossible claim that
she was his mother.
‘So, this is it? The secret you couldn’t bear to share. Not even with your
best friend?’ Gertie’s voice held a sharp, cutting edge. And she flung the
logs angrily, sending cascades of tiny sparks flying up the chimney.
‘That’s not fair, Gert. I made you a promise. That I’d tell you about a
German I knew. And I’m keeping that promise.’
‘Oh, sure! VE night. That’s when you made that promise. And it only
took twelve bleedin’ years.’
‘C’mon, Gert. Better late than never.’
‘And don’t try that. Don’t make this into a joke. It ain’t no bleedin’
joke, Madds. Just admit it…’
‘What?’
‘You didn’t trust me with your secret. This Rudi was the love of your
life. The father of your child. You don’t think I’d have understood that?
We’re like sisters, Madds.’
‘I know. And that’s why I couldn’t tell you, not then. Didn’t want to get
you in trouble. He was an enemy. I’d been fraternising with the enemy…’
‘Sure, I get that. But the war was over. You could have told me, right
there in the park that night.’
‘No, it was too soon. I’d no idea where Rudi was, where he’d gone
when I left Gunwalloe. It could have been treason, the things I did. No way
I’d drag you into that.’
‘But it was a hell of a burden to carry by yerself. To take through the
war with you. Wondering where he was. If he was alive or dead.’ Gertie’s
voice tapered off into a whisper. ‘I know how that feels,’ she said.
And of course, she did. They had both lost men they’d loved. Pals
they’d loved. Babies they hadn’t had a chance to love.
Gertie was right: they were sisters, in more ways than one.
The fire grew cheery again, its heat comforting, leaving a pink flush on
Maddie’s cheeks. Or maybe that was the memory of Rudi.
‘I’ll get some tea,’ said Gertie. ‘We both need it.’
Tea. Good for what ails you. Maddie thought back to the WVS heroes
with their huge tea urns. Those women were right, a cup of tea never hurt.
The British answer to problems great and small. She managed a smile.
A heavy weight felt as if it had suddenly slipped from her shoulders and
maybe now, finally, she could draw a line under those years of war. They
hadn’t all been bad; some had been good. Friendships endured if you were
lucky. Hers and Gertie’s. And although they’d both been sad about friends
they’d lost, memories of Betty and the brilliant times they had all shared by
the pool in Sunnyfield and the picnics eating cold rice pudding could still
make them laugh.
‘Get that down you. It’ll warm you up,’ said Gertie, and she handed
over one of the tin mugs salvaged from their ATS kit. A souvenir. A happy
reminder of their old billet.
‘Ta.’
‘Brought you some seedy cake as well.’
‘Hummm, that’s good,’ said Maddie. ‘I love seedy cake. You made it?’
she asked.
‘Don’t sound so surprised, I can be domestic,’ said Gertie. ‘Now, we
need to talk.’
‘Thought we’d done that already,’ said Maddie.
‘This lad…’
‘What lad?’ asked Maddie, her mouth full of seedy cake.
‘You know exactly which lad. The one who’s turned up with Rudi’s
photograph.’
Maddie didn’t speak. She was still conveniently battling with a rogue
seed that had stuck between her teeth.
‘How d’you suppose he got that? And why would he say he’s your son,
Madds? Kind of odd, don’t you think?’
‘Of course, it’s bloody odd,’ said Maddie, angrily. ‘I don’t have a son;
you know that, Gert. A son would have been great. Kids would have been
great, but…’
‘And yet he’s sure you’re his mother. Odd. And the photograph. Don’t it
make you wonder how he got it? I mean, you said they took it away from
you at that awful place.’
‘They did.’
‘So, how come it turns up in the pocket of a tall, skinny lad from
Munich with acne on his face?’
‘How would I know?’
‘Well, now, that’s a real puzzle,’ said Gertie. She had that determined
look on her face. One that Maddie recognised as her friend’s dog-with-a
bone look. No way Gertie was about to give up that bone if she could help
it. It made her who she was. A determined, bloody-minded woman, and a
champion of the under-dog. A friend with true grit.
‘Yes.’
‘And we need to find the answer. So, finish your tea,’ ordered Gertie
Adams. ‘We’ll go and look for this lad. Ask him his name. And then, you
and I are going to this place in St Agnes.’
‘Rosemundy?’ gasped Maddie. ‘No. I can’t go back to Rosemundy.
Never. Not ever!’
‘Oh? You sure?’
‘Besides, it won’t even be there. Times have changed. They don’t shame
pregnant women or send them to cruel homes for unmarried mothers
anymore. We’re more civilised now.’
‘Think so?’ asked Gertie. Her expression became serious. ‘Then why
don’t we go and find out?’
They went together to the centre of Pendurran village, although Gertie
insisted on driving, claimed that Maddie still looked a bit on the peaky side.
The first place they tried was about to close for the day. It was a quiet
time of year and the Old Forge was more of a teashop than a restaurant,
locking its doors before the sun went down, leaving evening meals to the
village pub. It was an arrangement that suited both places. The Boar’s Head
didn’t sell toasted teacakes and the Forge didn’t sell beer. That way
everybody got along.
The bell tinkled as Maddie pushed open the door. Rachel, the young
waitress, moved swiftly from behind the counter, ready to head off any late
customer at the pass.
‘Oh, it’s you, Miss Madeline. We’re not serving…’
‘That’s fine, Rachel. We’ve not come for food. That young man who
was in here this morning…?’
‘The one what tried to help when you got poorly?’
‘Did he?’ asked Maddie.
‘Did he what, miss?’
‘Help.’ Maddie tried to be patient with the waitress but Rachel’s head
was more often stuffed full of useless facts about celebrities and film stars
than it was with weightier subjects like world hunger or how the universe
worked.
‘He left, Miss Madeline. Right after you came round a bit.’
‘Any idea where he went?’ asked Gertie, sharply. She didn’t have
Maddie’s patience, figured life was too short to waste any of it.
‘Maybe he went to your place. I gave him your address. Hope I did
right, miss.’ Rachel bit her lip.
‘It’s okay, Rachel. Don’t worry, we’ll find him,’ Maddie said. ‘You just
lock up and go home.’
The girl looked relieved, and Maddie headed for the front door, her
friend in her wake.
‘Not the Brain of Britain, is she?’
‘Head in the clouds,’ said Maddie, ‘but she’s a good kid.’
‘Wouldn’t have lasted five minutes in the regiment,’ said Gertie. ‘She’d
have been on jankers most of the time. They’re building kids real soft these
days.’
‘Jankers, is it?’ laughed Maddie. ‘And wasn’t it you scrubbing barrack
room floors when we first met? If anybody knows about jankers, Private
Gertrude Adams, it’s you!’
They found him in the farmhouse yard, throwing sticks for Wilma. How
happy he looked, thought Maddie. How young.
‘Maybe it’s time we had a talk,’ she told him. Not unkindly. She
couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to be unkind to this lad. It would be like
hurting a puppy. His face had an earnest, innocent look. It spoke of a lack of
guile, a naivety. But the eyes gave lie to that. They were deep-set, probing
eyes, which didn’t belong on his face. Experienced eyes that had seen too
much. Been hurt often. And their colour?
Dear God, they were the coolest blue.
They were Rudi’s eyes.
‘We can speak, then?’ he asked her. ‘I’d like that very much,’ he
continued, eagerly. ‘We’ve so much to talk about. I’ve waited years to hear
your voice.’
‘Yes,’ Maddie nodded. ‘We must speak, you and me. We need to sort
this out. Clear up the confusion.
