It was a Sunday morning and when Maddie went into the kitchen, she found
a gaggle of excited ATS girls gathered around Betty Wooten.
Betty was a kind of unofficial den mother. Some of the younger girls
went to her with their problems for she was much older than the others.
Exactly how old was hard to tell, and Betty never revealed a number.
Someplace in the forties, Maddie guessed. Her hands weren’t too lined, but
her face had deep ridges in it.
Her skin too had an odd yellow tint. At first, Maddie assumed the
woman was jaundiced, but strands of her hair were also a peculiar orange
colour. ‘Got this in the munitions factory,’ Betty had explained when she’d
seen Maddie staring. ‘Sulphur. And all those toxic chemicals we had to mix.
They called us canaries. Coloured yellow and we sang as we worked.
Sweet, eh?’
Maddie was appalled. No wonder the woman had joined the army – a
whole lot safer.
‘Okay, listen up,’ said Betty. ‘You lot’ll be amazed.’
‘We’re in the army, ain’t we? Ain’t nothing they do could amaze me,’
said one girl. She huffed cynically. Sissy was the youngest one there, but
not always the smartest.
‘Nothing to do with the army,’ said Betty. ‘They’ve re-opened the
outdoor baths up the road. We can go swimming.’
‘Terrific!’ said Maddie. She loved to swim.
‘Yep. From now on, girlies, we can strut our stuff by the pool. And they
got water slides and fountains in there.’
‘Ain’t we died and gone to heaven, then!’ said Sissy. The young girl
gave another of her cynical snorts and walked away. She wasn’t an
outdoorsy type. And the only exercise she took was of another sort, usually
with some bloke who brought her cigarettes.
But for Maddie and the rest of the Sunnyfield billet, it truly was a
miracle. Hours of laughter and innocent fun. Building friendships and fond
memories they would reminisce over in years to come. Throwing each other
in the pool.
Time away from duty was different from then on. Gertie smiled again,
the pain of separation from her new husband fading. And Maddie was
especially thrilled for she was a keen swimmer, spending hours in the pool
till she looked like a giant pickle.
Weekends were the best, especially when the sun was out. But Maddie
still swam in the rain and when the water was icy cold. Some of the others
laughed. Sissy called it kooky, swimming miles and miles to nowhere. But it
took her mind off other things. Like obsessing over Rudi and her baby.
Took the edge off the sadness. And, sometimes, she even imagined him
here beside her, laughing, joking, smiling, swimming.
One day, they would do those things together. Her intuition told her so.
As far as Maddie could see, life was like a balance sheet: good things on
one side and sometimes bad on the other. It didn’t pay to get too excited
about the good stuff, like spending time with friends and basking in the
summer sunshine by a pool, because you always seemed to pay for having
fun. The gods in their heaven threw in a liberal sprinkling of sadness as
well.
While she was plodding up and down a pool, people were being killed.
Servicemen and women and civilians, they were taking their final breath.
Of course she could do nothing to change that, so Maddie Brady came to an
agreement with her conscience – she would relish these good times without
guilt. And as soon as this hateful war was over, she would try to make
recompense. There would be people who came out of it broken and sad. She
would make it her business to help them if she could.
Many people had been kind to her, had helped her in times of need:
Gertie, Molly, Lizzie Retallack in Helston, Morwenna in a tiny railway
cottage in Truro, Ethel Ryder in St Agnes, and her old commanding officer,
Helen Worthing. She would pay their kindness forward in any way she
could. For that’s what one did with kindness: passed it on.
Life lately had been almost too perfect to be true. Their posting was
enjoyable – hard work at times, but often satisfying when there was
appreciation from the officers and even smiles from some of them. Not to
mention those fancy leftovers that Cook sometimes passed on. And the
picnics in the surrounding countryside or a swim in the pool – they were
small rays of sunshine that Maddie would hoard away and always treasure.
Count your blessings. And she did. The sorrow of the past would never
be forgotten. People had been right when they said it got less: it faded, but it
didn’t go away. The loss of her baby had been consigned to a safe place,
tucked away in the back of her mind. And although its rawness had
retreated, the dull ache would always be there. What would it be like, to
have a child? The small life she’d lost – had it been a boy or a girl? Did it
have Rudi’s beautiful eyes? And then there was the guilt. She’d run away.
Hadn’t even gone back to Rosemundy House to find out about the funeral.
Now Gertie had some news that brought it all back. Maddie was
conflicted, her feelings all over the place. On the one hand she was truly
thrilled for Gertie. Gertie who was younger than she, and already married.
And now, Gertie was pregnant – about to become a mother. And, although
that was wonderful, it reminded her of what she had missed in her own life.
No baby. No Rudi. And no one knew. She could tell none of her pals, for
what could they do, except look at her with pity in their eyes?
Women at the billet pampered Gertie, and knitted baby clothes, and
Maddie watched her friend grow bigger. Pregnant women were supposed to
bloom, and Gertie did, like a bud opening into an exotic flower. Her cheeks
filled out and she smiled a lot.
Maddie’s thoughts returned to Rudi. Would he survive? She’d tried to
tell herself that he was safe, that when the war was over, the strength of
their feelings for each other would lead him back to her side.
But what if she was wrong?
