Her uniform was lying on the bed. The on-duty nurse had brought it, told
her to change into it quickly. The jacket wouldn’t pull together, and Maddie
had had to pin the blouse where her bountiful bust had threatened to rip it
asunder. The skirt had always been a generous fit, but even it was struggling
to look decent.
Then Maddie was ordered out into the garden to wait – she didn’t know
why. ‘Visitors,’ was all the nurse would say. Her wallet had been returned
as well.
Visitors? But she’d not had any visitors in all the time she’d been here.
She wondered who it might be.
Morwenna, perhaps, coming from Truro? That kind woman whose
generosity of spirit was so far removed from her own mother’s. How
wonderful it would have been to have had Morwenna as her mother. How
different life might have been. More smiles, at least. More laughter. Less
money, of course. But then money didn’t matter that much, not when you
weighed it up against important things like love.
But her visitor wasn’t Morwenna. Maddie could hardly believe the
figure that made her way towards her across the path.
‘You look well,’ said Helen Worthing. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t make it
down before. I wanted to check on you, but you know the army. Paperwork
up to my armpits,’ said the CO and she smiled.
Maddie struggled up from the bench. Managed a salute, but it was silly
of course, for everything was far from normal, and she knew her uniform
looked bizarre.
‘Ma’am – what a wonderful surprise.’
‘I hoped it might be,’ Helen said. ‘Although I did tell the matron to
warn you, in case you’d be upset.’
‘No. It’s super, cheered up my day.’
‘I’m pleased. You’re really okay then? This place…?’
‘It’s fine,’ said Maddie. No point burdening her CO with the truth. Not
when Commander Worthing had been so kind and arranged it all.
‘That’s good,’ Helen said, relieved. ‘You hear stuff about places like
this, but I did some research and I was happy that this was the one for you.’
‘Thank you.’
‘I’ve brought you a little something. A few apples and a slice of cake.’
‘Ma’am! That’s very kind, ma’am.’ Maddie grinned.
‘You can take them with you to the cinema tonight.’
‘How did you know…?’
‘Matron. She tells me her girls often have little treats like that. She’s an
old-fashioned woman, but she seems decent.’
Maddie didn’t answer. What was there to say?
‘And you and the baby – you’re both fine? Any time now, Matron tells
me.’
‘Yes.’ Please God it would all be over soon, and she could get away
from this place.
‘It looks lovely,’ said Helen. ‘The garden, I mean. I guess they bring the
babies out here.’
‘When it’s a fine day,’ said Maddie, and she smiled warmly at the
woman who had helped her, had thrown her a lifeline. The smile slipped
when she saw Miss Robertson heading their way.
‘Well, you ladies seem to be having a nice visit.’ The matron nodded.
‘Miss Robertson, lovely to see you again. Your garden is beautiful
here,’ said Helen.
‘Yes, our young ladies take great pride in keeping it that way.’
‘The mothers-to-be? They work in the gardens?’ asked Helen, surprised.
‘Fresh air is good for them. And a little light work never hurt anyone,
did it now?’ The matron turned to Maddie. ‘So, you’re off to the cinema
tonight, I hear?’
‘Really? But I thought Sister Bennett said it was off-limits,’ said
Maddie.
‘Nonsense! You leave Sister to me. Go and have a good time, Madeline.
Abbott and Costello are just the right sort of medicine, you enjoy it.’
The matron left them sitting together on the bench. Two women, both in
uniform, both with different expressions on their faces. Helen was smiling.
But Maddie’s face was wreathed in confusion. Confusion that turned into
understanding. Of course. The visit to the Regal was back on and the aura
of sweetness and light that had exuded from Miss Robertson was purely for
her commanding officer’s consumption. Not that it changed anything. But a
bag of apples and a slice of cake plus Abbott and Costello later…
All in all, not a bad day.
‘Well, I should be going. Don’t want to miss the last train. Services
seem a bit patchy.’
‘It’s the war.’ They both said it together, and the two women laughed.
It was the first time Maddie had laughed in ages.
‘You get yourself well and settled with the baby. Then we need to talk,
of course,’ Helen said, suddenly serious.
‘Of course,’ said Maddie. ‘I totally understand. And I’ll come to see you
when I get back to London, if that’s all right, ma’am.’
‘That would be best. But phone first before you come. Things may be
difficult. You have my home number there still?’
‘Yes. I still have the letter. And, ma’am, thank you again for all you’ve
done.’
‘Fine. Fine. Must rush.’
And then she was gone. Maddie was left alone in the garden, wondering
what had just happened. Not really understanding why her commanding
officer had rushed off like that. Or why she had taken the trouble to travel
all the way down to Cornwall. And why she was crying.
The doctor might have pronounced her fit, but fitness was a relative thing,
she guessed. She certainly couldn’t have marched for the hours she had in
her ATS basic training, or run the miles expected of her in those first six
weeks.
Marching up the hill at Rosemundy was enough to almost finish Maddie
off. But the others had surprised her – comradeship that she hadn’t expected
– when two of the girls walked on either side, held onto her arms and
almost frog-marched her up to the cinema. For a minute it was like being
back in the old billet.
She shared her apples with the other three and they all settled down to
watch the screen. Bud Abbott and Lou Costello, two American comedians,
were acting in a silly sort of movie called In the Navy. It was an unlikely
plot, a mixture of comedy, romance and musical. She thought about Molly.
Molly would have loved it.
She laughed at the daft antics and so did the others around her,
including people on the other side of the aisle: the villagers who wanted a
night out to take them away from the hardship and worries of the war. And
this time, no one had made the four women from the home feel any
different or complained about having to share the same air as them. People
were just people when you came down to it.
Maddie laughed so much she almost cried. And suddenly, she heard a
strange popping sound, like she’d sat on something that had collapsed. And
a tiny trickle of wet ran down her leg.
She leaned into the girl next to her, a worldly girl for her seventeen
years. Young Alice had come to Rosemundy with dyed blonde hair, but it
had almost grown out now, dark brown roots forcing their way through.
Sister Bennett had called her a harlot, too. That was something both she and
Maddie had in common: the way they seemed to annoy the resident
midwife.
‘I’m embarrassed,’ whispered Maddie. ‘I’ve laughed so much that I
think I’ve peed myself.’ She felt a hot flush of shame push itself up her
neck and into her cheeks.
‘Shush! Wait… What did you say?’ the girl asked.
‘I’ve wet myself,’ she whispered again.
‘Is it a lot?’
‘Not much, I don’t think. Just a trickle. And there was a funny popping
noise like a rubber band going ping.’
‘Gawd, girl! Sounds like your waters broke.’
‘No. Can’t be,’ said Maddie, worried now. ‘Not yet. And I feel fine. Just
damp. No pain, nothing.’
‘So? Just sit there then. We ain’t going back, not till the end of the
flick.’
‘But what if I’m in labour?’ said Maddie, panicking now, feeling sick.
‘You ain’t – not yet. You said you ain’t got no pain.’
‘Yes, but I’m all wet.’
‘Worse things in life, Madds. Enjoy the flick.’
Worse things in life. And it turned out that was right: there were much
worse things.
