14. Watendlath

Though Jamie and Ada tried their best to conceal their feelings for each other, it soon became evident to the staff that their relationship had moved on from professional to personal. Dora, typically, hit the nail on the head.

‘I think you did a lot more at the Grasmere Show than watch beefy fell-runners!’ she teased, when Ada breezed on to the ante-natal ward with her big blue eyes sparkling with happiness.

Studiously avoiding eye contact, Ada concentrated on tucking in the corners of the bed she and Dora were making.

‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,’ she prevaricated.

‘If you say so,’ Dora chuckled. ‘You know what they say, it’ll all come out in the wash!’

And inevitably it did: working in such close proximity Ada and Jamie could barely tear their eyes off each other.

‘I can’t believe this has happened,’ laughing Ada exclaimed as they sneaked a cuddle at the end of Jamie’s morning surgery.

Laughing too, Jamie swept Ada’s starched nurse’s cap off her head so he could run his hands through her long, lustrous auburn hair.

‘I can’t think straight,’ he declared. ‘I open my eyes in the morning thinking of you and I go to bed in the evening only to dream of you.’ Pulling Ada close, he kissed her deeply. ‘You have completely bewitched me, Sister Dale!’

‘Oh, Jamie,’ she whispered dreamily, as she pressed her face against his white doctor’s coat. ‘I wish we were alone on the fells again.’

Excited as a boy, Jamie held Ada at arm’s length. ‘The whole of the Lake District is waiting for us!’ he declared. ‘Have you ever climbed Catbells or Scafell?’

Ada shook her head, reminding him she didn’t have a car. ‘I usually stay close to home for my fell-walking.’

‘Then I’ll take you further afield,’ he announced.

A knock on the door made them both jump sky-high; blushing, Ada sprang apart from Jamie while he straightened his hair.

‘Come in.’

Dora bustled in bearing a handful of patients’ notes, but, sensing the charged atmosphere in the room, she quickly left the notes on the desk; then, before turning to leave, she gave a knowing wink.

‘I’ll leave you to get on with important business.’

When the door closed behind Dora, Ada covered her hot face with her hands. ‘Oh, God!’ she gasped.

Taking hold of Ada’s slim waist, Jamie lifted her into the air and spun her around. ‘Stop fussing, sweetheart,’ he cried. ‘Soon everybody in Mary Vale will know that Dr Reid is courting lovely Sister Dale – and he’s the luckiest man in the world!’

As she went about her business, Ada gave up pretending when she next saw Dora. ‘All right, you guessed,’ she giggled, as they stood together swilling out dirty nappies in the sluice-room.

‘Doesn’t take Sherlock Holmes to solve that mystery,’ Dora chuckled. ‘Joking apart,’ she added earnestly, ‘I’m happy for you, lass, he’s a good man and you’re not so bad yourself. Be warned, though, no man other than St Joseph himself is ever going to be good enough to court you as far as Sister Mary Paul is concerned.’

Ada smiled fondly. ‘She is such a sweet mother-hen.’

‘And you’re her precious little chick,’ Dora reminded Ada.

Matron was thrilled when Ada confessed that she was going on a second date with handsome Dr Reid.

‘We’re all very happy for you,’ she announced.

Ada gazed at her dear friend. ‘All?’ she enquired. ‘Do all the staff know?’

Sister Ann burst out laughing. ‘Yes – and everybody in the convent too!’

Before her date with Jamie something happened that brought Ada back to earth with a sharp bump. Just as she was about to go off-duty one evening, Diana asked if she could have a word in private.

‘Of course, dear,’ Ada immediately replied. ‘Shall we sit in the garden? I’ve been cooped up on the ward all day long, and I’m in desperate need of fresh air.’

It was a lovely, late-summer evening, and, though the heat of summer still lingered, the sharpness of autumn was already in the air. Sitting side by side on a garden bench, both women watched the full moon throw a silvery bright light over the Irish Sea, now at full tide.

‘I had a letter from Harry’s friend at RAF Duxford this morning,’ Diana started.

Ada tensed as she prayed the news would be good.

‘Yes …’ she asked tensely.

‘Gordon said that his senior officer had recently managed to make contact with Harry.’

Ada gasped with relief. ‘So he’s alive,’ she cried.

A smile spread across Diana’s pale but lovely face. ‘Yes, thank God.’

She took a deep, shuddering breath as she recounted her story. ‘Only a few months ago Harry left the base for what was supposed to be a few days; we had made arrangements to marry just after he was due back.’ Her head drooped. ‘Obviously that never happened.’

Ada gave Diana’s hand a sympathetic squeeze. ‘I’m sorry, dear, it must have been hard for you.’

Diana’s pale-blue eyes filled with unshed tears. ‘It was agony, Ada,’ she confessed. ‘The very worst thing was that nobody – none of his friends or colleagues – even mentioned his name; it was as if Harry were dead. I was left thinking, “Did I dream this?” When, in sheer desperation just before I left Duxford, I plucked up the courage to talk to one of his pals, the poor chap clamped up.’ She gave a bitter laugh as she recalled Gordon’s terrified expression when she had spoken to him in Duxford’s NAAFI. ‘At least I got to leave my forwarding details with him, which is lucky, as otherwise I would never have got the wonderful news I’m telling you now.’ Diana’s voice trailed away before she continued. ‘During one of the last conversations we had, Harry made it quite clear that he wanted me to keep our baby, but when he went missing and I was on my own I questioned my ability to bring up a child single-handed.’ Diana stared at the stars, which were starting to prick the clear navy-blue sky. ‘I was frightened, Ada. I wanted to get back to my old life, my war work, which I loved.’ She gave a guilty shudder. ‘I was even thinking of adoption, which is exactly what Harry didn’t want.’

Ada gently patted Diana’s hand. ‘Dear, you’ve had good news today – concentrate on that for now.’

‘You’re right,’ Diana agreed. ‘Who knows?’ she added wistfully. ‘Harry might even come home soon.’ She sighed. ‘Oh, just to see him again, hear his voice, touch him,’ she said with such yearning. ‘I miss him so very much.’

The thought of her growing feelings for Jamie filled Ada’s gentle heart with compassion – how would she feel if the man she was rapidly falling in love with should suddenly disappear from her life? She gave Diana a big hug. ‘We’ll all pray for Harry’s safe return.’

Diana rested her tired head against Ada’s strong shoulder. ‘I’m glad I’m here at Mary Vale,’ she said with a catch in her voice. ‘It’s such a support having you to turn to.’

‘We’ll always be here for you, Diana,’ Ada replied. ‘Now, come on,’ she added, helping her patient to her feet. ‘You’ve clearly been worrying yourself sick all day, and you need your sleep.’

After her talk with Diana, Ada felt almost guilty as she counted down the days to her next outing with Jamie; it seemed wrong to be so excited at the thought of seeing her sweetheart when so many women across the nation were missing their own loved ones. When the day dawned, Sister Mary Paul presented Ada with yet another picnic basket.

‘Mary Vale Lancashire cheese, some fruit, a bit of rationing carrot cake and hot tea to keep your strength up,’ she announced.

Touched by the old nun’s generosity, Ada gave her a grateful kiss on the cheek. ‘We’re only fell-walking, Sister, not climbing Mount Everest!’

Always one to doubt the benefits of Mother Nature, Sister Mary Paul wagged a warning finger in the air. ‘You can never take chances when you’re facing the elements – a full stomach will keep you going in the wind and the rain,’ Sister Mary Paul insisted.

‘Thank you – we’ll both be sure to enjoy it,’ Ada assured her.

Reluctant to carry a cumbersome picnic basket up the fells, Jamie managed to pack most of the food into his rucksack. ‘Off we go,’ he cried, as he started up the ignition and they bounced down the drive and out of the gate. ‘A whole day on my own with sweet Sister Dale!’

It was a hot, still-golden September day. The leaves on the trees seemed to hang suspended as if holding their breath, afraid of catching the first autumn wind that would hurl them into winter. As they drove along the A66, Ada marvelled at the colour of the surrounding fells: burned by the summer heat, they were now dark sage-green, mottled brown and deep purple, with rolling stretches of tall bracken turning dark ochre.

Chatting companionably about work and patients, they drove through Kendal, where the hills bordered the road, giving tantalizing views of higher mountains just up ahead. They both fell silent as they began the steep ascent past Helvellyn, one of the most compelling mountains in the Lake District, which rose in majestic grandeur in the clear autumn light. Thirlmere loomed dark and forbidding against sheer scree-covered crags, with bristling pines reflected in the still, brooding waters of the deep lake. After they had driven by towering Blencathra, with emerald fields and neat little farms at its base, they were suddenly within sight of Keswick, a small grey stone town lying comfortably within the sheltering circle of mountains and fells.

Ada hungrily drank in the views. Smiling at her genuine delight, Jamie took the narrow, winding Borrowdale Road that ran beside Derwentwater glittering bright blue in the morning light.

‘Pity we haven’t got time to run up Catbells and say a good morning to Mrs Tiggy-Winkle,’ he joked.

Ada’s brow crinkled into a frown. ‘Mrs Tiggy-Winkle – isn’t she a hedgehog in a children’s story?’ she enquired.

‘Indeed, she is,’ Jamie agreed. ‘And she lives on Catbells, the big fell over that way, towering over Derwentwater,’ he pointed out. ‘Sometimes you can see her scampering along the tops with her washing basket loaded with linen.’

‘Stop teasing me,’ Ada giggled.

‘Mrs Tiggy-Winkle was my favourite bedtime story as a child,’ Jamie confessed. ‘Whenever Mum and Dad brought me to Keswick, I’d search Catbells and Newlands looking for a little hedgehog with a hat on.’

Stroking the thick tawny hair on the back of his head, Ada murmured, ‘You must have been the sweetest little boy.’

‘I was until I got polio, then I became a very grumpy little boy,’ Jamie confessed.

Ada’s indulgent smile faded. ‘How did you contract the disease?’

‘Apparently in the local swimming pool. I had to wear a calliper on my left leg due to muscle loss after being laid up sick in bed for weeks and weeks,’ he explained.

‘But you made a good recovery; you must have been strong and very determined.’

‘I was nursed well by my attentive mother,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Poor dear, she was half mad with worry.’

Not wishing to dwell on the subject, unless he did, Ada waited for Jamie to continue. ‘Going back to school was grim,’ he continued. ‘Children can be brutal.’

‘Did the teachers keep an eye on you?’ she asked softly.

‘To a point, but I didn’t want to come across as a softie, so I struggled on.’

‘Poor darling,’ Ada murmured with tears in her eyes.

Jamie shrugged as he took a sharp left-hand turn off the main road. ‘Like all things, it passed.’

They made slow progress up the steep track that led to a narrow stone bridge: they’d had to pull over into passing places to allow a farm tractor and a cart wagon loaded with hay to get through. After parking the old Rover behind some farm buildings, Jamie helped Ada out of the car, then, holding her hand, he led her across the fields to the tiny hamlet of Watendlath. Ada caught her breath at the sight of an ancient grey-slate farmhouse that faced on to a small tarn nestling in the heart of the mountains.

‘Perfect place for a picnic!’ Jamie announced.

Taking a blanket from his rucksack, Jamie placed it close to the tarn, in which wild trout rose, then flipped back into the still waters with a loud plop. Smiling with pleasure, Ada made herself comfortable – but when she looked up Jamie was holding an old Kodak camera in his hands.

‘Smile, darling,’ he cried.

Blushing and feeling extremely self-conscious, Ada protested. ‘Not now – I must look such a mess.’

Lifting her wonderful hair so it caught the breeze and floated prettily around her radiant face, Jamie took the shot, then settled on the blanket beside Ada, who cuddled up close to him.

‘Thank you for bringing me here,’ she whispered in his ear.

‘I plan to take you to all my favourite places, where I can kiss you all day, watched only by sheep and a few red squirrels,’ Jamie whispered, as he lay back and pulled her into his arms.

For several minutes they lay in complete stillness, listening to little waves breaking in the shallows and the plaintive cry of ewes on the hillside; then, after giving Ada a final squeeze, Jamie sat up and started to unpack the picnic from his rucksack.

‘I’m starving!’ he declared.

Sister Mary Paul’s sandwiches were delicious: tangy, crumbly Lancashire cheese combined with Zelda’s delicious plump, ripe tomatoes were followed by flaky Eccles cakes and hot tea from Thermos flasks.

‘I’m too full to move!’ Ada groaned, as she lay flat out on the blanket and gazed up at the azure-blue sky.

‘If only we could stay here forever,’ Jamie sighed, snuggling up beside her. ‘Sweetest Ada, you’re bewitching me.’

Jamie’s hands swept over the length of her long, slender body. ‘God, you’re gorgeous.’

Responding to his delicate touch, Ada pressed herself against his strong chest, slipping her hand inside his shirt. With the top buttons undone, she could feel the warmth of his skin and the steady beat of his heart. Nuzzling the soft, golden hair growing on his chest, she breathed in the smell of him, a heady combination of soap, antiseptic and sunshine. Locked in each other’s arms, they lost track of time until a sheep dog barking from the nearby barn startled them.

‘Lucky that happened,’ Jamie chuckled. ‘I was on the point of losing myself entirely.’

‘Oh, Jamie,’ Ada sighed, as she held him close. ‘I can’t remember a day when I’ve ever been so happy.’

Driving back in the cool of the evening with one arm around Ada’s shoulder and the other on the steering wheel, Jamie gazed up at the glittering bright stars illuminating the fells they drove by. The day had been made up of all the things he treasured most: sunlight and stars, Watendlath, Derwentwater, Catbells and the beautiful woman by his side he was fast falling madly in love with.

‘Could life get any better than this?’ he thought with a contented sigh.

A dark-red fox flashing across the road caused Jamie to brake sharply. ‘It was only a fox,’ he told himself.

But the bubble of happiness that had cocooned him all day through was gone. Jamie shuddered as if somebody had walked over his grave. Little did he know that it would be months before he would spend another day such as this, on the mountaintops with his beloved, and, by then, he would have witnessed things that would change his life forever.